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A short while later...

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Hah?

It's actually already evening? I was only kidding myself before...

Thankfully, the trees don't seem to grow near the roots' entry points, so I can look over and see a clear impression of the fold so far off in the distance... It's a shame it's so faint from here; the slight amount of dirt in the air is enough to obscure anything with enough distance.

Cupping the roof of my vision, I allowed my eyes to adjust to the delicate lilac light trickling down onto the leaves of the numerous trees not too far away.

My eyes adjusted slowly, and I lowered my gaze.

There was a thin but large mist surrounding our vantage point, with the rich light cutting through those millions of tiny droplets of water and diffusing into several similar shades.

The most visible cool-red threaded its way through the shallow atmousphere. It was as if music lingered in the air like some optical apperition; its weaving, like expressions of resonant notes within a melody.

Those strings of light seemed wrought with highs and lows, but that symphonic cohesion—the memory of that performance—faltered and faded into aberrate obscurity as the light neared and touched the ground.

I'm not sure what's invoking this feeling...

Unlike Rena, I can hear it, and I can't find it within myself to let go of the sorrow melded into the air here.

Is this just my imagination? Is my title based more in belief than anything?

I carefully descended the steps one by one, letting my ears pass through the mist as I went.

There's... a quiet desperation.

A longing so great it hurt itself.

A simmering rage.

My feet planted themselves on the earthy ground. I didn't lower my face to hear any further because there was nothing; only loss decorated the forest floor.

What is this sense I'm getting? It's not nearly as direct as it normally is.

I watched as our breaths disrupted the silent symphony and stopped for a moment.

"Do you feel that?"

I asked mindlessly.

"Feel what?"

We paused a little longer.

"It's Nothing."

I continued through the faint mist, now paying it little attention.

We walked beneath the trees, and I found a gap that could serve as an easy path through.

The terrain is pretty flat now, and most of the foliage is rather shallow... Maybe it's trodden on fairly often; it's also green, so we must be nearing the village that Rena mentioned.

The thread is thick... and becoming ever so more vertical, so we're getting extremely close now.

I looked down.

Rena's been somewhat quiet, but not how she usually is; there's a strange vibe to her movements, like she has an itch she can't scratch or something.

I found myself turning away as if to say nothing, but...

No, I'll ask this time.

"What's wrong?"

Her grip on my armour slightly stiffened at the sudden question.

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Am I being too nosy? Why am I finding this awkward?

She'd paused and didn't say anything for some time—we just continued to walk calmly through the quiet forest; for some reason, this calmed me.

If only these random streams of light would stop blinding me from time to time...

"Are you going to leave me as well..?"

It was my turn to tense up now, but I quickly relaxed in the hope that she wouldn't notice.

She probably noticed.

I let out a sigh and tried to speak as delicately but honestly as possible.

"I'm not sure how long I have... but I'll stay with you near to the end; you've shown me you're more than capable as well."

...

She didn't reply to me—not immediately, not after a while.

The doctrine was only half-true here—staying in this body is not an option for me... and meeting her as myself...

It makes me anxious. As if she'd believe me after that reaction she had, as if she'd believe her 'saviour' who she's looking up to, is someone younger than her... It's ridiculous; I can feel how ridiculous that is.

Would it even be good for her to know?

A part of me just wants to bury it in the sand.

Hah... This really is awkward; it's not what I was expecting, yet it also makes sense.

She still hasn't responded... What can I say?

...

"So... who else stayed with you in the past."

Maybe this will help her clarify some things to herself; well, that, and I'm curious.

She sucked in a short breath, and I continued to carefully listen from the side, not pressuring her with my gaze.

"Enea... she..."

Oh, did Rena choose her own name? The intonation is quite similar, but maybe I'm reading too much into it.

"She was forced to look after me when I was dropped off—apparently from the capitol. They didn't want me... neither did she."

Her voice gradually became more monotone as she spoke; this story wasn't a happy one for her.

I gave some mildly acknowledging utterances, showing I was listening intently but also pushing her to continue.

However, she paused, and I tilted my head slightly.

A pained expression of realisation had crossed Rena's face.

"She was only my age now..."

There was a sudden, newfound empathy in her tone, and she smiled slightly.

"She would just give me whatever she could find to eat. She would never really talk to me or help me... she would only ever train."

She took a breath and collected her thoughts.

"When I got older, she stopped feeding me since she noticed I'd learned some magic on my own; even so, I would always follow behind her. She wanted nothing to do with me, but at least she didn't look at me with those eyes."

...

"She was always angry, but it felt like love compared to their apathy."

I listened quietly.

There was this abrupt maturity in her voice that somewhat resonated with me.

Sometimes I feel myself analysing things in the same way... but why she does is more clear than with me.

I sighed after taking in the story so far.

She's been through a lot.

"I was always pushed away since all I would do was interrupt her focus... But, one day, I asked if I could join in, and the way she looked at me changed."

...

"For the first time, someone smiled at me... It was the best moment of my life."

Her grip on my armour tightened even more, and she took a few shaky breaths, clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

I wish I could empathise more... but Demons don't seem to go through any of that--we're given a lot of information when we evolve--or maybe not being childish is a me thing... That kind of upsets me, actually.

But I'm not sure how to comfort her... I can only really listen to her story sincerely.

"She... actually started speaking to me and would talk about her ideas for different styles and techniques; it was like she was talking to herself most of the time, but I would patiently listen to every word. All I needed were those occasional looks she gave me... they made me feel so- real. Like I was actually a part of her world."

I stopped, and Rena stepped in front of me.

I crouched lower to the ground to meet her gaze as she turned in surprise.

Gently, I placed my hand on he shoulder and looked into her emotionally filled eyes--any words she had left fled her.

"You're stronger than I am..."

To live like that, with no perspective on the world. Those small things were probably everything to her at the time.

Her story made me feel a lot of things—things I can't describe—things I can't put into words. I feel like I have a lot to say to her, but lack the ability to say it.

How frustrating.

I simply can't relate to what she's been through, but I want to... and maybe that matters on its own..

She seemed to take it in and seemed at a loss, so I stood back up and changed the topic.

"We're here, by the way."

She turned back around and looked past, through the last rows of trees.

There was well-trodden dirt, but, more obviously, there were tightly packed clusters of buildings not too far into the distance.

After exchanging a brief acknowledgement, we continued onward.

It looks like a weight has been lifted off her... If only a little.

I looked back to the village, taking in its details.

It seems each grouping of housing is focused in five or so points... But I might not be able to see all of them. I'd like to think it's a pentagon or something equally attractive, but it's totally irregular, designed only with convenience in mind, so they built it around nature, keeping some of the useful vegetation and using it a natural barrier to partition small fields.

Each cluster of homes was on the outskirts, with some larger, slightly more impressive structures centred in the collective centre.

The centre was mostly worn dirt, with a gradient of grass as you approached the home clusters.

We pushed through the treeline, and my feet pressed into the dry dirt below. It was grainy, like sand but less fine.

The dry smell of smoke entered my nose, and I looked up to see several surprisingly clear streams of smoke rising from each home cluster, including the more important looking centre.

It seems like a fairly obvious design: those on the outside collect resources, perhaps process some of them in some way, and then the centre actually constructs something useful from it.

What a simple life...