My boots sunk ever so slightly into the grass as I walked up to the next tree in the orchard. One large branch heavy with still green lychees lay splattered on the ground, small flecks of mud clinging to the leaves. The tree's trunk bore a large scar of pale timber, one thin strip of bark connecting the fallen limb to the tree. I clicked my tongue at the damage. Pushing the branches away from my face I stepped close to the tree and lay my hand against the trunk.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and drew my magic from my centre at my heart and pulled it through the magic circles that were embroidered up the sleeve of my shirt. I guided the magic towards the tree, watching the threads of green light dance in my mind and weave together with the tree's own dark green light. The light in the tree pulsed gently, showing the flow of life within. A similar pulse of light came from the broken branch, albeit slower than the rest of the tree.
Good, I can still fix it.
I opened my eyes and gestured towards the branch, my magic following my movement. The sound of creaking timber reached my ears and the taste of green-ness filled my mouth. The branch shifted and bent upwards to its place on the trunk. Wood and bark knitted back together as the branch settled in and lifted away from the grass and mud, the tree groaning as it took on the weight from its lost limb. In moments it was done, exposed wed mud in furrows beneath the branch the only clue it had ever parted ways from the trunk. The pulsing green threads in the branch had joined back into the light of the tree, keeping a steady rhythm.
I tucked an errant strand of hair that had escaped my braid behind my ear and looked down the line of trees that rustled in the light breeze. I could see more branches torn from their homes laying on the ground further ahead.
More work to be done.
"Rowan," The deep voice that belonged to my father called. I turned and saw him stepping over a puddle of water as he looked up at the branch I had just repaired.
There was more grey in his short brown hair this spring, the faint hint of stubble over his cheeks and deep lines in his weathered skin around his eyes and mouth lending him a tired look. As he reached me, he plucked a leaf out of my hair and flicked it to the ground.
"How do you have leaves on you every time I see you? At this point we may as well plant you with the rest of the trees." He grinned at me as I snorted and rolled my eyes.
"Sure Da, but then you'd be lost without my amazing wisdom and guidance," I retorted.
Da chuckled, lifting the end of my braid and flicking it into my face. Some of the wavy brown hair tickled at my nose and I swatted it away.
"More likely that I'll finally get some peace and quiet without you and your brother constantly bickering."
I huffed with exaggerated indignation. "We don't bicker. We discuss." I tried and failed to dodge his hand as he grabbed my head and tousled my hair, pulling yet more hair loose.
"You discuss?" he laughed. "What kind of discussion was it last night when you two were deciding whether apples would eat other apples if they suddenly became sentient?"
I smacked his hands away and skipped out of reach. "Obviously an important one," I replied as I attempted to smooth my hair back down. "And I still maintain that apples eating other apples is cannibalism. Damn, I'm gonna have to re-braid this." With a grimace I undid my hair tie and set about untangling my hair before braiding it back while Da laughed at me.
Still smiling, he looked up at the freshly repaired tree and studied it a moment. "Nice work here," he said, inclining his head towards the branch. "Just make sure not to use too much magic on these trees. They'll become dependant on it and won't be able to survive without the magic if we're not careful."
"Yes Da, I know," I told him, tossing my newly braided hair over my shoulder where it thumped against the small of my back. "I do listen to some of the things you tell me."
Da gave me a a pat on the back. "Good. That's why you're my favourite daughter."
"Da, I'm your only daughter."
We started moving down the orchard, heading to the next damaged tree. Small puddles splashed underfoot as we walked, the sounds of bird calls filling the air. Just faintly I could hear the wind chimes mum had hanging at the house. The next tree had two branches hanging listlessly from its canopy, leaves brushing along the grass.
"Alright," Da clapped his hands together and glanced down the tree line. "You take care of this one and I'll..."
"Oi Da!" Mason's voice cut through the trees as my brother came jogging towards us, his floppy sandy brown hair bouncing as he did.
"Ah! My favourite son!" Da looked at Mason and put his hands on his hips, creasing the faded once-blue shirt that was neatly tucked into his pants. "What do ya want?"
Mason slowed to a stop in front of us, cheeks flushed from his run and hazel eyes that matched Da's sparkling.
"There's a messenger from the Wall," he puffed, swiping sweat away from his eyes. "The storm caused some damage last night, they need it repaired today."
Da groaned, scraping his hands through his hair as his thick eyebrows knitted together. "I repaired that damned thing just two days ago," he sighed, rubbing his neck.
Mason gave a lopsided shrug. "Well apparently a big chunk of its fallen down. They have the guard watching the hole, but they want it fixed up today," he said. "I can go handle it if you'd like." His eyes looked a little too wide, one of his fingers tapping rapidly against his leg.
"You just wanna go flirt with Grace," I scoffed, kicking at his feet while he danced out of reach. "Leave the poor woman alone twinkle toes, shes way outta your league."
"What would you know squirt," Mason retorted, picking up a stick and throwing it at me. "Grace is smitten with my masculine charm. Any day now she'll fall into my arms and finally confess..." He had one hand on his chest, the other held dramatically in the air.
"Yeah, she'll confess how much she wants to punch you in your stupid face," I interrupted him, once again kicking at his feet. Mason easily dodged and opened his mouth to shoot back.
"Enough, both of you," Da waved his hand in the air. "I'll go and fix it. At least then I'll get away from the pair of you." He pointed to Mason. "Mason, you help your sister fix the rest of the lychee trees." Da then nodded to me. "And Rowan, you get back to work. Don't make a mess, either of you."
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"Yes Da," Mason and I replied in sync. Mason had sidled up to me while Da spoke, and gave me a flick to the side of my head. I swung a slap at him. Da shook his head and walked towards the house. "Don't forget to tell mum where you're going!" I called after him. Da lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
Mason and I got to work repairing the lychee trees, reattaching the broken limbs and righting the few toppled trees. We finished the last one as the sky transitioned from bright blue to the orange and purples of sunset. We continued our bickering as we trudged through the trees towards home, tossing an occasional fallen green lychee at each other. As we walked out of the orchard, home came into view a short distance away.
The small stone building with whitewashed walls was stained with the colours of sunset. Wooden shutters had been propped open to catch the breeze, and warm yellow light spilled out from within. A large fig tree wrapped around one end of the house, magically grown by Da long ago to form extra rooms and a second story containing our bedrooms. The dark green leaves swayed as brightly coloured birds flew into its branches with loud shrieks to roost for the night. The smell of cooking meat and garlic wafted on the wind. Mum's wooden wind chimes hung next to the cheery yellow door and tinkled gently. A short pathway of packed dirt was lined by small colourful flowers that led the way to the door.
"Mother! We're hooome!" Mason called as we stepped through the door and removed our boots.
The entrance of the house held a mud room, with coats hanging from hooks in the walls and discarded shoes lined neatly along the floor. As I stepped into the house proper, the dirt floor of the entrance changed to cold stone under my feet. The old portion of the house had been opened into one room, a u-shaped kitchen taking up one half of the space and a timber table and chairs sitting atop a well worn rug in the other half. A door to my right led to the tree section that held the bathroom and bedrooms.
Mum was by the stove, steam rising from the pot she was stirring. A stained apron was tied securely over her pale yellow dress, and her blonde hair tied back into a neat bun. Mason bounded up to her, arms outstretched in an exaggerated manner for a hug. He stopped short when mum held up a hand.
"Uh-uh, not so fast. Why do you smell like manure?" mum's nose was crinkled as she put her other hand on her hip.
Mason gave her a lopsided grin, arms still held out in front of him. "Da had me fertilise the field this morning," he told her. He made to take a step forwards but was swatted away.
"Go and wash up," mum retorted, corners of her mouth lifting slightly. "I'll not have you stinking up my kitchen."
Mason darted forward, planting a kiss on mum's forehead and prancing away as she halfheartedly shooed him. I walked over to the stove, peering into the bubbling pot as Mason went through the door to the tree house section.
"Would you like some help?" I asked, taking the spoon leaning against the side of the pot and scooping some of the stew into my mouth.
Ah! Hot hot hot!
I breathed through my mouth to cool the food while mum shook her head at me.
"Go get some rosemary out of the garden for me," mum said. She plucked the spoon from my hands and waved me away from the stove. "Then you can set the table and wash up once your brother is done. You don't smell much better than he does."
I went out the back door that stood next to the kitchen and into the garden. A low barrier of willow rods wove together to create a living fence. Small white and yellow flowers followed the line of the fence, bobbing in the breeze as the first of the night's fireflies danced over them. My eyes strained to see in the deepening purple of night. Mum's herb garden was laid out neatly, bushes of basil, mint, thyme and others grouped together. It was a point of pride to mum that it had been grown entirely without magic. Da, Mason and I were under strict instructions to not touch it.
I found the rosemary bush and snapped off a couple of sprigs before stepping back into the warm light of the kitchen. Once I handed the rosemary to mum, I went about setting the table until Mason came out of the bathroom. I quickly went to the bathroom myself, washing the days grime off with cold water. After getting dressed in loose, comfortable shirt and pants, I went back to the kitchen to find Da had come home. Dark circles under his eyes dragged at his face, but his smile was still bright when he saw me.
"Da!" I greeted him cheerfully. "How was the Wall repair?"
"Tedious," Da told me after giving me a quick kiss on top of my head. "The damned thing had crumbled in the same places it had the last three times I repaired it." Da sat at his usual chair at the dining table, groaning as he lowered himself down. Mum came over and set the pot of still steaming stew in the centre of the table, Mason close behind with a few small loaves of bread.
"Is it possible a demon has been attacking the Wall?" I asked, sitting in my own chair.
Mason snorted, sitting next to me. "Demons don't attack anything that ain't human," he said as he picked up a loaf of bread and tore it in half before handing me a piece. "More likely this old fart here just missed something."
Da shot Mason a look, which only made Mason grin more broadly. As we ate, the conversation turned to last night's storm and the farm. Once dinner was done, Mason and I helped clean up before heading towards our rooms on the second floor of the tree. Da's voice stopped us before we went through the door.
"If the Wall crumbles again I want you two to come with me to look over it. Gods willing, we'll find the cause and fix it so it stops happening."
Mason and I agreed, then went upstairs to sleep.
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I jolted upright with a start, cold sweat sliding down my neck and stomach roiling in knots. Hazy images of hovering figures and barely heard whispers faded as I lent my head against my hands and drew in deep, slow breaths. My open window showed the stars still twinkling in the sky. A three quarter moon gave the leaves of our tree a silvery glow.
It's gonna take me ages to get back to sleep.
With a sigh, I swung my legs out of the bed and stood, the smooth bark floor warm underfoot. I padded out of my room, down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab a drink of water. I started slightly when I entered the kitchen to find Mason sitting at the table. He looked up at me as I entered, the flickering orange flame from the small oil lamp throwing his face into a medley of light and shadow. His arms rested on the table, idly spinning a cup in his hands.
"What are you doing up?" I asked him, moving to the counter where a ceramic urn filled with water sat. Picking up a cup left next to it, I scooped some water out.
"Couldn't sleep," he replied with a grimace. "Had some odd dreams that I couldn't shake." Mason sat back in his chair and raked his hands through his hair. He looked so much like Da when he did that.
I sat in the chair opposite him and sipped my water. "Me too," I told him, and he grunted in reply.
We both sat in silence for some time, only occasionally sipping on our water. Once I had emptied my cup, I sighed and pushed my chair back to stand.
"I suppose I had better..."
Mason grabbed my shoulder, shoving me down to the cold stone floor with a thud. "Get down!" he yelled, thumping to the ground with me and covering my head with his upper body.
Red light flashed across the room and hit the wall behind Mason with a whump. The red splattered apart, dropping to the floor and skittering along with a hiss until it sputtered out. I lifted my head to ask what that was, but stopped short. Mason was staring towards the open kitchen window, face sickly pale and eyes wide. I looked up in the same direction. It was there.
One long, thin arm ending in jagged claws reached through the window and onto the bench top. Deep furrows were carved into the timber. Its skin was dry and black, red light glowing through where it had cracked apart. Its bald head held two deep sunken eyes that glowed a dark infected red. Its mouth was no more than a gash across its face, and as it opened unnaturally wide black lines of saliva dripped from it. A low rattling hiss came from its throat, the sound of bones vibrating on stone. It lifted its other claw, fire forming in a ball over its palm.
My stomach was falling, and ice felt like it was crawling up my back.
Demon.