A muted forest. The quiet trees listened closely, and bushes stilled, the wind was calm, no animals stirred. The only sound came from the muffled footsteps of two lone creatures trudging through their environment. Quietly attempting to refrain from disrupting spring's domain, Aislene and Fiadh walked distantly further along an unseen path. Aislene was following feebly behind. Now that they were on even terms, she found it difficult to accept the current situation's absurdity. Wearing a literal leaf, Aislene did her best to remain mature and dignified but failed to hide her embarrassment. Fiadh didn't seem bothered by her lack of coverage, but more so the reaction it evoked from Aislene. Calm expressions over colorful faces would induce amusement to any comprehending creature presently observing. Though there was very little noise, detecting an ant wouldn't be unthinkable. Aislene felt the urgency to ask the repressed questions she never could've before enlisting Fiadh's help. Still, she held back her rising curiosity because of the uncomfortable tension in the air and Fiadh's previous reluctance to giving answers. So she resigned to a silent odyssey through the chilly forest. Why was it so so quiet? Where were they going? What now? When can we eat? What time was it? Where were we? When can we rest? With nothing else to think of but her inquiries, she sighed annoyedly. Aislene began to hum softly, the usual lullaby she'd always think of when bored strummed through the soundless air and into the listening ears of Fiadh. Not showing open interest, Aislene felt heard by her. Like singing to an audience for the first time without warning. With Fiadh paying attention to her humming, anxiety descended with attempts to stifle her. Despite her apprehension to continuing, Aislene persisted if not for Fiadh's entertainment but her soothing comfort she found in hearing the familiar notes. Her mother would sing the ballad whenever she was doing something. Cooking, cleaning, relaxing, and very often during snowy blizzards brought about by winter. Up and down went her tone, note after note, repeating smoothly without stopping or stuttering. Nostalgia hit her like a train. Memories that she loved sprung forth, eliciting sorrow for what once was. Of course, she felt happy thinking about her odd, eccentric, yet welcoming maternal figure. Being ruthlessly scrubbed head to toe in baths, being hand-fed with a spoon all through winter and spring, listening to sweet lullaby humming her to sleep at night, warm, gentle arms wrapped around her like a cocoon. She missed those days of indulgence and healing, but along with her mom, they, too, had passed. So lost in her thoughts, Aislene hadn't realized how loudly her song became. She was nearly buzzing like a cicada, her unchecked volume peeving all listeners in their forest homes. Realizing this for the first time, Aislene abruptly ceased. Plunging the world back into silence, she felt embarrassed at her aloof ignorance. "You didn't have to stop. It was quite enthralling, in my opinion." Fiadh remarked suddenly. Her back still facing Aislene, she didn't flinch in the slightest despite the eyes locked on her. "My mother taught used to sing it to me when I was young," Aislene replied. Her heart stung for a moment at the mention, but she hid the sadness in her eyes by looking at the ground. "What was she like?" Aislene didn't know how to sum up that woman in less than days worth of discussion. She was kind but strict, never going easy on Aislene. Days of constant reading and writing, history lessons, advanced literature, mathematics, and science. Biology, music, art, physical health, psychology, geography, and ethics. All common knowledge in society engraved in her soul from the day she started eating again. Aislene remembered the day she was taught to do chores for the first time. Initially thinking they were fun, she quickly changed her mind after just a few days of hard work. "Her name was Erika. Erika Clairivayl." Saying her name felt odd and unnatural. There were few times she'd ever said it, but she never forgot. "She would sing to me every night before bed, even when I was sixteen. Her voice was sweet yet stern. Like she was melodically telling me the notes." Fiadh listened respectfully, never speaking or interrupting Aislene as she went on to explain her childhood. "She sounds like a wonderful lady." Fiadh made a few polite comments during brief pauses in between Aislene's sentences. "She was." They remain silent for a few moments before Aislene changes the subject to something she'd been asking herself repeatedly. "Why'd you save me?" Fiadh waited silently for an answer to come to mind. When she was finally ready to answer, she spoke. "I don't know. That's the most mysterious thing about you. I planned on killing you from the moment I saw you crawl ashore from the lake. But I didn't. I also thought about it when I watched you sleep the first night here. I eventually decided that you'd die on your own, and I wouldn't have to do any work. When I saw the bear dragging you off to its cave, I thought I had nothing to worry about. But you survived, and it made me curious. So I intervened when the Bear Monkey caught your scent. I wanted to kill you." She stopped briefly but soon resumed. "But every time I looked at you, I felt an odd desire, likened to protectiveness. I can only describe it as an urge to eat or sleep. It confused me. I reconsidered letting you die. So I took you to that place." Aislene frowned in confusion. What place was she talking about? She couldn't remember going somewhere, but her experiences and troubles felt hollow. Something was missing in her mind, but pinpointing it felt impossible. "It seems you had attracted a wraith when we went in. If I couldn't kill you, then that thing surely would've. But you beat its test. At that point, I'd given up on your death and decided to trap you. I'm sure you can remember how the rest went down." Aislene immediately had questions but stopped herself. An explanation would come, but she wanted to hear the rest of the story. Walking on, she listened as Fiadh's life unraveled.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.