The air was overwhelmingly heavy for the next three days. Everything seemed to become evermore stagnant as the whole village put in efforts day in and day out to find the missing little boy. The aura within Arlarue’s home was by far the darkest it had ever been, for the sobs of her mother could be heard each night as she sat near the common area window, like the haunting wails of a ghost echoing faintly through the otherwise quiet village. Arlarue sat next to her mother on the worn couch, rubbing her back as she stared almost catatonically out the window into the darkness. Her mother’s hair was disheveled, face swollen and red with tears that had not stopped since the night of the festival. She barely even had any more tears to cry now.

“Mother, please…” Arlarue spoke lowly, tracing her hand over her mother’s back, feeling her spine beneath her fingertips. “You need to eat, to rest. Please, let me help you,” she would plead, watching her mother’s blank expression for any sign of emotion.

Her mother turned her head ever so slightly to look at her daughter for a moment before returning her gaze to the darkness outside. Not even the fireflies were twinkling tonight. “How can I eat when my baby is out there starving? How could I sleep knowing he’s out there all alone? Scared to death?” she asked, a tear falling down her cheek, her voice quivering as she spoke. Arlarue nearly began to cry again at her words, though she forced her tears back as she bit her bottom lip, holding out that strong facade for the sake of her mother.

“I know, Mother,” she began, searching for the right string of words to convince her mother to accept her offer to help, “but your spine is protruding. Your hair needs brushed. You have had nothing but a mere few slices of bread. I can’t – we can’t lose you, too.” She laid her head on her shoulder, wrapping her arm around her mother’s torso. “Please let me take care of you.”

She averted her gaze downward and took in a deep breath before giving Arlarue a small nod. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely able to utter the word. The noticeable bags under her eyes evidenced just how exhausted she had been.

Arlarue stood up from the couch, placing her hands on her mother to help her stand. “Up we go. Slowly, now,” she instructed, aiding her mother in standing to her feet, which she did so shakily. “Can we get into the tub? I will help you wash up. Afterward, I will prepare a small meal for you. Sound good?” she asked, taking baby steps at her mother’s side toward the restroom. She would give another small nod in response before the two turned into the restroom. Arlarue made brief eye contact with her father, who peeked his head out from around the corner, watching them, and she gave him a weary smile before closing the door behind her.

Arlarue drew up a warm bath, lighting a lavender-scented wax her father brought back from the city. The relaxing scent swirled through the warm room, and for the first time in days, the air wasn’t so heavy. She placed a hand on her mother’s forehead, shielding it, and dumped the warm water over her head as she reached for the bar of soap. As she lathered the bar on the washcloth, her mother let out a quiet chuckle. A smile tugged at the corner of Arlarue’s lips, “What’re you giggling about?”

She ran her fingers through her mother’s hair as she began to speak. “This brings memories of when I bathed you as a child. My fingers always seemed to get tangled in your curly hair,” she breathed, gently wading her fingers through the bath water. “Now look at you, my daughter, taking care of me.”

Arlarue tenderly rinsed the soap suds out of her mother’s chestnut brown hair, running her soft hands over her head. “No matter how many times I wash your hair or prepare you a meal, it would never make up for how you’ve cared for me throughout my life,” she replied, now beginning to suds up the washcloth to clean her body. “I could never repay you and Father for taking me in after my biological parents passed. Had it not been for you, who knows where I’d be now, if alive at all,” she explained. “There are not many families who are willing to adopt an orphaned half-elf.”

After Arlarue washed her back, her mother took the cloth from her and lathered the rest of her body up. “Your father and I tried to conceive a child for a long time. Years and years. It was fruitless and we were settling into the idea that we may never be parents, that was until we heard word of an infant half-elf whose parents had been killed near the city,” she recalled, scooping handfuls of water over her body to rinse herself off. “A little girl, brown eyes akin to your father’s, and a head full of curly blonde hair. It was simply meant to be. Per the travelers who brought you to us that warm spring morning, you cried and cried nearly the whole journey to Wispwater. But when I took you into my arms for the first time, you were calm. Calm, as if nothing bad had ever happened to you.”

Arlarue smiled softly, listening to her mother’s smooth voice as she spoke. She rinsed off the remainder of suds on her body before turning to look at her daughter. “Thank you for washing me up, Rue.”

She would reach and grab a towel for her mother, handing it to her as she stood from the tub. She wrapped it around her body, ringing out her hair before stepping out onto the woven mat in front of the tub. She looked down at Arlarue, just a few inches taller than her, and ran her hand over her daughter’s head, gently bringing her lips to her forehead. “I love you, my sweet Rue.”

She grinned, leaning her head forward to receive her mother’s kiss. “I love you, too. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she replied softly as she made her way out into the hallway, gently closing the restroom door behind her.

Arlarue’s delicate steps could be heard down the hall as she entered the kitchen, opening a worn cabinet filled with various spices, berries, and condiments. She would pull out a small jar of creamy peanut butter, another delicacy her father delivered from the Capital, and a pouch full of sunberries that Saith had gathered just days prior. She held the small, soft sunberries in the palm of her hand for a moment, gazing down at them melancholically, before reorienting herself to reality and beginning to prepare her mother’s meal. As she grabbed two slices of bread from the pantry, heavy footfalls emanated from down the hallway as her father rounded the corner into the kitchen.

“How’s she doin’?” her father questioned, leaning against the countertop near his daughter. Arlarue slathered a dollop of peanut butter on one slice, biting the inside of her cheek before responding. “She’s bathed now,” she responded monotonically, grabbing a handful of sunberries and beginning to carefully slice them in half. Her father was quiet for a minute or so before opening his mouth, as though ready to say something, before Arlarue interrupted.

“I’m leaving at dawn to continue the search,” she stated, breaking the heavy silence. She began laying the halved sunberries in perfect, orderly rows alongside the peanut butter sandwich. “Since the night Saith disappeared, I’ve been tending to Mother and nearly tearing the whole village apart in search of him. I have yet to search the woods, which is where I’m certain he must be,” she declared, filling up a wooden cup with water and scooping up the platter she had prepared. She met her father’s eyes at once. “I allowed him to go and gather one last bundle, from which he never returned. If anyone is going to scour the Firefly Woods, it should be me.”

Her father’s chest rose with a deep breath as he looked down at her sympathetically. “Rue, you know the woods are dangerous. If you were to go, how would you protect yourself?” he inquired with a subtle shake of his head, “We don’t know what’s out there now. We don’t know who, or what, took Saith. I can’t lose my only daughter, too.”

Arlarue furrowed her brow and pursed her lips ever so slightly in frustration. “Father, I will be fine. I’m leaving in daylight, and I plan on returning in daylight. I’ll survey the forest on horseback, so if anything were to go awry I could simply flee,” she reassured him confidently, her voice strong with determination. She strode toward the hallway before turning back to look at her father, whose arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he returned her gaze. “If anyone knows how to find Saith, it’s me. I will find him.”

She walked down the narrow hallway, finding the bathroom now empty. She ascended the staircase and approached her parents’ bedroom, a thin strip of candlelight from the bedroom peeking through the slightly open door. She would knock softly before hearing her mother’s voice, “Come in.”

She gingerly opened the door and stepped into the room, flashing a cheesy smile and gesturing toward the plate in her hand. “Made you a peanut butter sandwich with some sunberries,” she said quietly. Her mother sat upright on the side of her bed, damp hair pulled over her shoulder, her long nightgown donned. Arlarue sat next to her mother on the bed, handing the meal over to her. She smiled weakly at her daughter as she took the plate into her hands.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Thank you, Rue,” her mother said before biting into the sandwich. She then closed her eyes as a corner of her lips turned up into a half smile, a small “mmm” escaping her lips. “I never thought peanut butter and bread could taste so good,” she chuckled before taking another bite. Arlarue’s smile faded as she watched her mother’s hands tremble with weakness. Her mother didn’t seem to notice.

She placed a hand on her mother’s back. “We’re gonna find him,” she assured her, rubbing her thumb in circles on her mother’s nightgown. She nodded, picking up a few sunberries and popping them into her mouth. “Mm, these are so sweet,” she commented, picking up some more and offering them to Arlarue. She hesitantly took one half from the few in her hand and popped it into her mouth, just enough to please her mother without taking too much from the food she desperately needed. She nodded. “Saith picked them on our way back from the trading post. He’s always had a good gatherer’s eye,” she replied, handing the cup of water in her other hand over. “Drink. You’re surely dehydrated.”

She took the cup from her daughter’s hold and lifted it to her lips, nearly downing its entirety in one go. “I thank you again, sweetheart. I’m going to turn in for the night. You should, too,” she suggested. Arlarue preemptively took the empty plate and cup back so as not to burden her mother with them. She looked over her shoulder before exiting the bedroom. “Goodnight. Love you,” she smiled warmly. As she closed the door, she heard her mother respond, “I love you, too.”

With a sigh of relief that her mother was feeling a bit better, she stepped down the staircase to return the dishes to the sink. Just as she entered the kitchen, the front door opened and in stepped her father. Arlarue looked a bit puzzled as she placed the dishes in the sink. “Where’d you go? I didn’t even hear you leave,” she inquired, running the tap over the dishes briefly. The tall, burly man’s footsteps fell heavy as ever as he strode toward her, holding something in his hand.

“Just outside to the workshed. Rue, I want to give this to you,” he said, attempting to gather her attention. Her ears perked with interest and she turned around to face him. He held out a hunting knife sheathed in a dark brown scabbard, roughly a foot in length, its handle delicately carved out of wood. At its base, the name “Eldrin” was carved into it. Arlarue carefully took the knife from her father’s hands, tracing her finger over the carved name curiously. A fine layer of dust had settled atop the leather sheath. “This was my first hunting knife, given to me by your grandpa,” he explained, his voice low to not disturb his wife upstairs. “If you’re goin’ to venture deep into the wood, you oughta have something to protect yourself. I never thought I’d need to give you a weapon such as this one just to go into the forest, but it’s become apparent that you may need it.”

She gently slid the knife out of its sheath, observing the curvature and shine of its blade. She admired it for a moment before sheathing it once more and looking up to her father. “Thank you for this,” she gratefully responded, holding her new possession close to her chest. “I hope I don’t have to use it,” she chuckled, “but I’ll take good care of it.”

Her father smirked and placed a hefty hand on her head, ruffling her hair like a child. She furrowed her brows and playfully swatted his hand away.

“Go get some rest, kiddo, you’re gonna need it,” he spoke as he turned to head toward the stairs. “I’ll see you in the morn before you go.”

Arlarue nodded contentedly. “Night, Dad.”

———————————————

The forest was quieter than normal the next day when Arlarue set out on her search for Saith. There was a noticeable lack of deer bolting across the trail before her, the birds weren’t singing like they used to. The air was considerably cooler and crisper as autumn further approached, and the most prevalent sound in the Firefly Woods was seemingly the crunching of fallen leaves beneath the hooves of Arlarue’s steed as they ventured forth. Arlarue was on high alert as she followed the familiar dirt trail that she and Saith had walked just a week prior, her big brown eyes continuously scanning her immediate surroundings, her curly blonde locks pulled back so she could better hear. She searched for something, anything, that would tip her off to her brother’s whereabouts. Hours had passed as she rode slowly and carefully down the trail with not a single clue to be found. She directed her gaze through the thick treetops to observe the location of the sun, which was now closer to the west end of the sky. She huffed in frustration, for she had been out since dawn and made little progress, if any at all.

It was as her attention was fixated on the skies that Cookie, her trustworthy horse, slowed her pace and gave a low nicker, as though she noticed something of significance. Arlarue diverted her attention to the general direction in which her horse gazed–into the thick brush off the safety of the main trail. As she squinted her eyes for a better look, Cookie came to a complete, unwarranted halt, her ears erect and forward-facing toward the dense forest. The young woman gave her steed a reassuring pat as she studied the woods, swallowing nervously as that unpleasant feeling returned to her gut. The wind then gusted through the brush, whistling eerily, and revealed a very subtle game trail through the thick of the forest trailing westward, as though it had recently been walked. Fallen autumn leaves were flattened in the direction of the path, further confirming her suspicions. It was narrow and overgrown, but she was sure the two of them could squeeze through. She clicked her tongue and gave her horse’s sides a gentle squeeze at once. After a moment of hesitation, Cookie stepped forward, beginning their descent down the ominous path.

The overgrowth of plant life became ever more apparent as they walked on. Arlarue regularly ducked below thick branches hanging over their path, her legs repeatedly scraping against twigs and bushes on either side of her. Cookie seemed uneasy, taking the brunt of scrapes and cuts from traveling through the brush. As the two continued on, Arlarue noticed that the sounds of wildlife had completely ceased, leaving only an uncanny silence lingering stagnantly in the air. About 100 feet ahead stood an old tree on a small hill with thick roots dispersing into the surrounding grounds. As Arlarue studied the tall timber, approaching it cautiously, Cookie snorted and shook her head, ears pinned back with fear. She hesitated as Arlarue urged her forth with a squeeze of her legs, further enunciating her reluctance to continue on.

“Hey, easy now,” she reassured the mare, furrowing her brow as she gave her a consoling pat on the neck, which gave the steed the courage to approach. The game trail seemed to come to an end before the great tree, or so Arlarue observed. She placed a hand over the sheathed hunting knife on her hip that her father gifted her the previous night before swinging her legs over the back of her horse and dismounting swiftly. She gripped her steed’s reins with clammy palms and looped them around a nearby branch. She then grabbed the unlit lantern hanging from the saddlebag, slung her backpack over her shoulders, and gave Cookie another pat before turning toward her destination.

The woods were getting darker now as the sun continued descending in the western skies. The shadows between the brush were evermore prevalent. She carefully walked toward the old tree, leaves crunching beneath her boots. She had a puzzled look on her face as her eyes trailed from the end of the path and up the lengths of the trunk–it looked like a normal tree to her. Thin vines fell from its heights, tangling themselves in the tree’s roots. The wind whistled through the forest once more, sending the leaves and grass dancing in its gust. However, Arlarue further knit her brows together as she noticed something off. The vines directly in front of her at the base of the tree did not sway with the wind’s movement. In fact, they didn’t seem to move at all.

“What the hell..?” she questioned as she lifted a hand delicately, hesitantly, toward the vines. She retracted her hand for a brief moment before reaching for the vine, but she did not feel it beneath her fingertips. Her hand had fazed through the greenery, the tips of her fingers disappearing within the tree itself. She gasped sharply and drew her hand back, clutching it to her chest, eyes widened in both shock and fear. The abrupt, fearful squeal of Cookie a few paces behind her snapped her back to reality. She took in a shaky breath and bit her tongue as she neared the ghostly tree.

She extended her arm as a precautionary measure, and sure enough it disappeared into what looked like a solid trunk. Goosebumps immediately traveled up her right arm, the one that had now gone through the tree, and she felt a cold, unnerving sensation follow. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a step forward, that icy feeling encompassing her body as she passed through the illusion.

The sound of her boots thudding against hard ground echoed ominously and she opened her eyes to determine just where she had ended up. She found herself standing in the narrow opening of a cave. There seemed to be a rocky, haphazard path descending into the depths of the cavern. The air became significantly heavier. As she peered into the darkness, she observed a faint, dancing light quite a ways down casting shadows along the walls of the uncharted cave. She turned around at once to face the direction she had just come from to see a wavering, distorted film before her. She could see the forest through the tinted mask of the illusion, and she could see Cookie standing alert where she left her, her stare at the old tree unbroken.

“A facade…” she breathed, scanning the distorted specter curiously, “but why? Who could’ve cast this spell?” She turned back to the cavern and crouched down to retrieve a matchbox from her backpack. She struck the match, its sizzling flame providing a miniscule amount of heat, and lit her handheld lantern.

Her heart beat strong within the confines of her chest as she surveyed the dangerous path before her.

“God, Saith, please be okay.”

She put on her bravest face, breathed the heavy air deep into her lungs, and began her descent into the deep unknown.