Chapter 6
-The Existence of a Deep Forest and What Lives In It-
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Time: ??:??
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I blink once, twice, thrice, and slowly, my senses start to return. The numbness I feel in my body slowly begins to give way to an old and familiar feeling: pain, the worst kind. Like the gnawing pain in my shoulders, writhing like worms and festering like maggots. I'm lying face up in the middle of a forest, in a bed of broken branches and crushed grass, reminiscing slowly but surely about all that had happened. I must have gone through the foliage and lost consciousness due to the pain because there lies a pool of dry blood that still warms my clothes underneath me. I can't tell how much time has passed due to the little sunlight that reaches me, making the dark part of the forest I was in look a lot brighter in comparison, so instead of waiting around for some help that won't come, I try rising to my feet.
It hurts; my body fires up in pain like someone had repeatedly beat me up with a sledgehammer and then impaled my legs. My best is not enough, but I manage to at least get back to my feet, having to hold on to my tongue so I don't scream, or worse, cry in dismay. From the backpack safely resting on my body, the one thing I tried to protect at all costs jumps off a small opening on the zipper, revealing itself unscathed by the whole thing, staring at my face in what looks like a quick study of my state, and then finding its way up to my shoulder.
"Hey-" My throat hurts, and a hot liquid quickly climbs my gullet in a warning I'm about to vomit, so obeying my body without any other option, I lean my good shoulder on a nearby tree and allow the disgusting puke to flow out, only to find in the place of half-digested food the one thing my body needs to keep on going and has limited supply: blood. Strangely, after letting it all out, the feeling that I'm at my worst possible, lessens, to the point that I feel I can, maybe, walk. "It's good to see you're okay." I complete my failed attempt, my voice coming out beaten up and breathless as I constantly need to sharply intake air.
The mouse squeaks at me before suddenly climbing down my clothes and running further into the forest, in a single moment disappearing from view. I find myself so weak that I don't manage to gather enough strength to react on time; I only watch it run away to god-knows-where. My hands, though, moved by a frequent feeling that comes to me in bad situations, travel toward the bottom of my backpack, tightly grasping the only thing that could manage to help me now. A cigarette tightly held in between two fingers and a lighter in the other—something that was hidden in the side pocket of my backpack for a good reason—to avoid returning to my bad habit of running away.
Before I can light it up, the sound of something being dragged on the grass calls my attention, stealing my eyes from the forming flames of the lighter. A long stick seemingly moves towards my feet by magic—that is, until the tail of the hard-working creature behind the act comes into full view. After using all its strength to drag the object to me, the small creature rests its head atop the item and chirps tiredly, now sounding just like I am now.
It takes a moment for me to react as I come back to my senses, finding my body betraying my own promise, so instead of putting the cigarettes back in my backpack, I throw them at the ground and use my trembling feet to smash them again and again, until all that is left is too broken to be of use, with the lighter going back to my bag, where it should be left to be forgotten like an old, bad memory.
I attempt to smile at the creature as I kneel down with some difficulty to pick up the branch it brought me. Now, looking up close, it's perfect to be used as a walking stick; the fact that it fetched me the thing manages to surprise me more than the creature's understanding of my need. In the process of taking it in my hands, I too gently cup the mouse in and let it take the so-deserved rest on my shoulder, where it lies lazily and grateful, still scared at all that happened, but, just like me, trying just a bit more.
Testing the stick against the firm ground, I determine that it'll probably last long enough so I can find a way back, but pushing it too much can make it break midway. Painful, unbalanced steps are all I can muster in the state I find myself, slowly guiding my body forward without a true direction; the silence and lack of events allow me to analyze my damages to know if I broke anything, with the results coming as unsurprising at this point. My legs still carry the cuts from before; only now are they revealed as not so deep as they felt at the time; my left shoulder is at a breaking point, barely being able to perform as my right one is less damaged, only aching slightly from the fall; as my back holds the worst, it hurts like hell, and it makes sense; this was the part that most sustained the damages in the whole way to the ground.
"You know, it would be a great time to transform into a prince with healing magic. No pressure, though." Jokingly, I comment to my companion, finding it looking at me not entirely amused for all I can tell—something that isn't reliable at all as I may be projecting some personality in it. "Relax, it's just a joke... sort of."
The distance I travel becomes impossible to keep track of when, most of the time, my body begs me to stop for a quick rest or my legs almost give up in a, until now, failed attempt to make me look stupid in front of the creature. At least, all the pain and suffering seem to pay off as my eyes spot from behind some bushes, something resembling a house. The cabin, as it's revealed further by my approach, looks abandoned; vines grow on the sides of its firm wooden walls, reaching its body on the stable surface provided by the inclined rooftop, where it blooms to life with flowers and moss. It looks small, having the size of what you would expect from an abandoned place in the woods.
It's not exactly good news, because if I had followed the right path, I should instead be finding the small river of the village or one of its houses, so in reality, this finding only furthers the bad feeling I've been having for a while now that I'm actually delving deeper into the forest instead of out of it. I guess at this time all I can exercise is that quote about not looking at a gifted horse's teeth or whatever.
The sigh I let out drains all of my remaining energies. I manage to get to the cabin's door, but just the slight thought that maybe I can rest kills off my adrenaline, putting me in motion towards hitting my face against the door—something my body complies with. Timely, the door opens, and I watch as a shadow, clearly surprised by what's happening, reacts fast and moves to hold me. I feel the safety of someone's embrace easing my fall, the words of a confused person ringing in my ears who refuses to decipher them, and soon after, the figure's hands firming as they get under one of my shoulders and start to guide me to the insides of the cabin.
There isn't much to be done in the current situation, so I let the unknown person take me to a simple-looking living room. As we reach the place, I'm lowered until all I can experience is the homely feeling only a good sofa can provide.
"Stay," A harsh, commanding voice rings, ordering me as I try looking around. "Keep an eye on her while I get something; do you know if there are any herbs left?" As she starts talking with someone else, I force myself to at least sit up straight so I can stay more comfortable and, too, have a view of the two people in this living room. One bark echoes as a response to her question. "Good, I'll get the remedy ready now."
The woman steps further away, which leaves me with no other option but to look around. A fireplace stays some steps in front of me, smelling of recently burned wood; to my left, a clear vision of the forest outside, not interesting by the fact there are just more of the trees I've been fighting off to navigate; to my right, the door I entered and two beds that were placed next to each other to serve as one. I start to move so I can have a look at the direction that woman has gone, directly behind me, only to be stopped by a sudden woof, successfully stealing my attention towards the one making the sound.
A dog with a long face and covered in a wavy white, blanket-looking coat with hints of golden stares directly at my face with its curious eyes, sitting on the floor like a guard watching my every movement but still maintaining a friendly pose. A curious thing is to see white daisies growing from their fluff, sharing space with the moss and grass that, too, cover the dog's body, especially its tail, which is made mostly out of grass.
The time I spend studying the dog's curious appearance is enough for the woman to return with a cup that holds a bluish liquid. "Drink."
"What is it?" I ask in my weak voice.
"A special tea; it will help you recover." She grabs my hand forcefully and places the cup in it. "Now drink."
Obeying her order, I raise the cup to my lips and tilt the container, feeling the sweet, fruity flavor descend my throat and settle on my stomach. As I lean to place the cup on the coffee table directly in front of me, it's easy to notice my movement becomes a little less stiff and somewhat pain-free.
"It won't close the wounds completely; you'll still need to let your body heal naturally, but for the moment, that will allow you to move and talk."
"Uhm, thank you-"
The woman shakes her head and loudly places her feet atop the coffee table as she settles herself comfortably on the armchair. "Don't thank me; just tell me what exactly you're doing in this forest and why you look like someone ran you over with a tractor."
"I..." Before the words can come out of my mouth, I stop to analyze whether I should tell the truth or not. On the one hand, she helped me, but on the other, she can be a bad person; witches that live in cabins in the forests are not exactly to be trusted, according to my knowledge of movies. Even if I doubt this claim, from what I can tell, her dog is the same as Ayla's lizard, a summons of a witch, and even if that makes little sense, I'm more inclined to trust someone who has a cute dog rather than a snake as a pet.
My thoughts are in vain as the white-haired woman leans closer to me, making her long ponytail get over her shoulder as she gives me a good look at her washed-out blue eyes, which look serious and not up for any bullshit. "I want the truth; I am not in the mood to hear made-up stories."
There isn't much to do but sigh and nod my head. "All right, I think first I should introduce myself. My name is Noma; I'm Lady Milesian's apprentice."
"Oh, so you're the brat that everyone is talking about; continue."
"Well, I wanted to help her out with anything I could and found information about a creature in the forest that I think she was after." Using my hand, I get the diary out of my backpack, and with the other, I cup the little prince and bring it out of its hiding place between my hair strands.
The woman only takes the diary from my hand, studying for a good two seconds or so before moving her eyes to the words at the bottom of the page. "I see now, you're an idiot for thinking you could brave the deep forest alone." She sighs and closes the diary before throwing it back in my hand. Her words are harsh, but something in her eyes shows a hint of something else as her gaze falls on the creature in my palm. "Yet, here you are. Holding in your hands a creature that no one else would want to tame."
"Wait," I tilt my head, curious at her words. "Why is that?"
"It is simple, kid, in this world we live in, there is only a handful of witches and mages that care for wild magical beasts; and why, you'll probably ask judging by the face you're making right now." She points it out with a tired expression and rubs the bridge of her nose. "The answer being that nowadays, this type of knowledge is not worth the risk it brings; most prefer to spend their time in the discovery of new spells or the deciphering of old ones lost to time and translation from the safety of their homes." Her hands move to her pants pocket, where she takes out a cigarette. "One reason more my classroom are empty nowadays; you mind?" I shake my head and watch as she lights up one and takes a long drag of the smokes, holding on to them for a moment before blowing them out.
I stop to think about her words, as one thing she said sticks with me. "You teach about magical beasts?"
"Yes, my mother used to research about them as well, so I just took over when she stopped."
A little too excited, I grab my sketchbook from my backpack and hand it open to her. "I've been studying about them; Milesian commented that I seem to have an affinity with them." As she starts looking at my drawings, I keep talking. "You know, their existence is very interesting, especially for someone who, until some days ago, didn't even think their existence was possible."
"I understand what you mean; I too didn't learn about all of this until I was fifteen, just ten years ago." She closes my sketchbook and hands it back to me, still with a serious face but somewhat more friendly-looking. "One thing, you still didn't tell me how you ended up as harmed as you were."
"Yeah, sorry. The thing is, when I found prince and talked to it, a wolf made of black liquid came after me, the same thing that tried to kill me when I first arrived. After running away from it when the creature started to talk creepily, using a copy of my voice, I ended up on a cliff and had to face a choice: run into the forest and lose myself, or try sliding down the cliff's side and use a tree's foliage to lessen my fall. I think you could tell which one I chose and that my plan failed miserably."
"I think I know about the creature you're talking about: the lost hunter."
"I remember Milesian calling it that too."
"Yes, there isn't much anyone knows about it, but once they find a target, they will keep on coming after them every time they lose themselves, so next time don't go out exploring alone." The woman pulls a phone from her back pocket and checks the time. "It's getting late," She rises to her feet and gestures for me to get up. "Come on, I'll take you back to Milesian before she thinks you're dead, or worse, comes to bother me."
Now able to walk, I follow the woman as she leaves the cabin with the dog, who, instead of following her, stays by my side to make sure I accompany them.
On our way, I learn that I wasn't so far from the village's river; I only needed to turn right at some point as its path goes down the dark forest towards somewhere. We follow up the river and, within minutes, find ourselves at the feet of the village, where some people walk around and park their cars after a day's work. I shield my eyes from the sun, allowing them some seconds to readjust, and in the end, I find it almost switching shifts with the moon.
Stolen story; please report.
We walk in silence the whole way, which gives me some time to have a better look at the woman. Her gray tank top leaves her muscular arms on full display, something that I notice everywhere in her; even if she holds a slim-like build, she is quite muscular. She walks in a manner similar to what you would find a military person doing, rhythmically, making sure her boots hit the ground in the correct pattern.
The woman notices me looking and finishes her cigarette; the amount of smoke that leaves her lips creates a cloud that lasts only a second, hiding her eyes from view. At that moment, I change my focus to the dog near my leg so I don't look like a creep for staring too long and, in the process, notice the dog walking tiredly, like an old housedog would after so much time without going out for a walk, and yet, it ports itself as gracefully as it can—something that makes me unable to not attempt to pet them.
With one hand, I reach for the dog's head courageously and gently scratch the side of their face, finding it losing some of its composure as they let their tongue out and breathe happily. Their reaction is enough to make me smile too, and it seems my action calls the attention of the witch.
"Hades is not one to be friendly with everyone, but it seems he likes you." She forcefully adjusts the speed of her walk so, that instead of walking ahead of us, she's with us. "I didn't tell you my name, did I?"
I shake my head, and the woman nods to herself. "You can call me G-"
"GREY." From the distance, a voice screams; at a quick glance at the path ahead, I spot Ayla's iconic witch hat. She waves at us as Milesian stands beside her, just like a statue, without holding a real expression on her raven skull face, only locking her eyes on my form as she spots me. As we approach further, Ayla steps closer to the woman who brought me here, whose name I'll assume is Grey from Ayla's calling out. "Sweetie, it's good to see you again."
I watch as Grey has to look down at the witch because of their height difference. "It's good to see you too, Mom."
"What happened? Why is Noma with you?" Ayla asks, stepping away only so she can look at my shame-filled face.
"She ended up at my cabin's door, half alive, after falling off a cliff because of a lost hunter that chased her down." Grey snitches without mercy, something I can't even get mad at knowing I truly did something bad. "I gave her the blue herb tea; she'll be fine after a good rest."
Hearing the story, I can't even focus on Ayla's reaction as Milesian makes her approach towards me; the lack of expression on her face is something that makes this just so much harder and even a bit scary. The shadow of her hand as she raises it up makes me instinctively shield myself, as one memory, in particular, is triggered in my head. To my surprise, I'm taken off my feet and, in an action that is starting to become too familiar, am held in her arms.
"You're okay?" Milesian asks emotionlessly, getting her face so close to mine that it is impossible to hold back a blush. Even if some days ago I would run at the sight of a skull-faced demon lady, I now find myself even blushing as she stares at me so dearly with her glowing eyes. All I can muster in response is a nod, as I fear my voice will fail me at the moment. "Then let us get back home."
Milesian's attention travels to the mother and daughter. "If you still wish, I can ask Loa to make you and your daughter some tea."
"Oh, well, I am one that always accepts a good tea," Ayla comments with a smile before it is washed away by Grey pulling her shoulder.
"I think you two already had enough adventure for a day; go home; I'll take my mother back to her shop," Grey says, without leaving space for a debate, something that makes Ayla pout like a child; it becomes hard to say who is the mother. "Before you go, just take this." The witch hands me a card that she takes out of the cigarette box she has. "It has my number in it. Next year, I'll try to get enough students to form my classroom, so if you find yourself interested in developing your knowledge, call me, and I'll make a recommendation letter to my boss."
As I take the card, I can hear Milesian's disapproval breath, even if for a single second, almost unnoticeable. "Thank you for the help today and this."
"Don't mention it. Just do me a favor and don't go jumping any cliffs again; and unless important, don't come to my doorstep." After she lets that be clear, she whistles for Hades to follow her and starts walking towards the train station with Ayla, who waves us goodbye.
No words leave Milesian after that; she just carries me back to the library. I feel relieved that she doesn't appear angry at what I did, and perhaps she'll be happy that I got the little prince in the end, or at least I hope so, or else all I did was for naught. It takes only a minute for us to reach the safety of the library, and another for her to enter and puts me on my feet.
"I believe a talk about today's incident is in need," she says as she places herself on her armchair. "Don't you think?"
"Yes, I think so too." I walk to the coffee table and sit on its edge, so Milesian and I aren't far apart. "Look, I know that what I did was risky and dumb, but I swear I did it for a good reason."
"If that is true, then please enlighten me with your reasoning."
"About what John said, I understand that taking me in brought you only problems until now, so I wanted to be of use, to repay your kindness in any way I could." I take Ayla's diary out of my backpack and hand it to her. "Then I found your note in here and knew what I had to do." From my shoulder, I once again offer the prince my palm and show her that I did it. "All the pain was worth it; I did succeed."
"Noma, come here." She taps her lap, a clear gesture for me to sit in it—something I reluctantly do. Once done, she guides my hand to the coffee table, where the little prince climbs down and starts to explore what it can do. "There is nothing in this world that is worth putting your life or health in danger; you need to understand that if something you did required any kind of retribution, I would have told you."
"but-" I try reasoning, only to be stopped by Milesian's cane tapping the floor.
"No buts, you made a bad choice, guided by the darkness settled on your shoulders. What transpired with John is over; your worry about that is not in need. What I need is for you to stay safe, to continue feeding your curiosity about this world, but never to go over your limits to prove to me or anyone else that you are pulling your own weight." Milesian places her skull face on my shoulder so she can have a look at my face. The feeling is strange; it weighs somewhat, and the texture of the bone is unpleasant, yet somehow it is comforting. "I believe you staying here instead of going with me was a bad choice, both mine and yours, so next time you'll stay beside me."
She takes the diary for a moment and points at her words. "Your actions, although dangerous and reckless, were of help in the end, so for that I thank you; just don't confuse these words of mine with my approval of your actions in any way."
I place my hand on the page of the diary and turn my head to look directly at Milesian. "Why did you need it for?"
"It was to be a gift. I conducted my own studies about this creature's magical proprieties and learned that it can be a conduit for those who aren't blessed by magic, people like Loa." The feeling of her glove pressing against my hand makes me react. She runs her fingertip along the path of my index finger to my wrist. "In your veins and in mine, magical energy flows freely like a river; some have it dormant, some awaken it prematurely, but only beings who were created by nature can hold or produce this energy, and Loa, who was created by my own hands, is an outsider of this rule. I wished to make her hard work less heavy on her shoulders; that was the reason behind my interest in the creature. Unfortunately, my appearance is not one that many find pleasant, so to tame or befriend anything is hard to manage on my own."
Her words are emotionless, yet I resonate with them; my bad habit of projecting takes me over, and my body makes a move instinctively. Arms throw around her shoulder as I move in her lap, burying my face in her neck and trying to envelop her cold form with some warmth. The hug, even if one-sided, as Milesian only stays frozen like a statue, is easy to find solace in, at least for me.
I end the hug and gaze at Milesian's face, still finding no real reaction or anything there, but instead of feeling down by it, I place a smile on my lips and talk softly. "You want to give Loa her gift, then?"
"In a moment, for now, I only wish to stay like this. Consider it a way to make up for the worry you caused me today."
I can't help but let out a laugh. "Sure thing," Even if I don't think these words of hers were for this reason, they manage to clear some of the fog in my head; this is a better way to repay her than falling from a cliff, that's for sure.
It is only after a good five minutes that we end up going to the kitchen so we can find Loa; on the way there, I notice the little prince curiously following us without me needing to put it on my shoulder this time. Now in the kitchen, the sound of utensils being used can be heard clearly. Loa stands near the stove, preparing some kind of good-smelling stew.
"Loa," Milesian calls the maid, who turns toward us with a, at first, relieved expression that soon turns to a frown once her eyes fall on me. "We are back."
Crossing her arms, the silver lady approaches me and, in a moment, loses her composure as she studies my wounds. Quickly, she urges me to sit down and moves toward the kitchen counter, where a medical kit rests, seemingly prepared beforehand by her. After grabbing it and turning back to me, she starts to wet a piece of cotton with alcohol to clean my wounds. Of course, I groan as the alcohol burns in my wounds, making me stay at the edge of the wooden chair to hold on to my tongue and swallow a curse.
Her eyes concentrate on the task so much that she appears to enter a trance where words don't reach her anymore, but as proven by the little prince, her eyes are very observant still. For a moment, she changes her gaze to the creature, who stares at her curiously, a look she shares with the mouse.
"It is a gift for you," Milesian comments, standing by my side and putting a hand on my shoulder. "I was supposed to tame it last winter. Unfortunately, though, I was not able to do it, so in her quest to do something for me, Noma ended up doing something for us both. Now you should, in theory, be able to utilize the naturally produced magical energy of the creature to help you with tasks around the house, as you, in return, shall provide food and protection to it if it comes to accepting you as its master."
Loa's eyes travel around, from Milesian to me, and then to the creature once more, where she takes from the table beside us a piece of bread, making the prince, enticed by the possible treat, climb from my legs to my arm so it can find itself on the furniture. She slowly and carefully lays the piece of bread in front of the creature, who at first sniffs it and observes the silver maid, still unsure if she's a threat or not. But when its search ends, it slowly approaches the treat and starts to eat it.
There is a certain sparkle in Loa's eyes when it happens; it glows a shade of orange so strongly that I fear it would change colors. One thing that only now calls my attention in her uniform is that some parts of it are made of metal, like the leather boots she wears that are strapped with metal, like armor from medieval times, or the metal gauntlets that climb their way to her armpit, proudly displaying the two spikes that reach her shoulder area. The reason I notice them now is because they too, like her eyes, glow like something inside has heated up, resembling an item just fresh from a blacksmith's furnace. Actually, I can even feel the heat coming from her, warming the environment.
The creature, after eating the treat fully, lowers its head, mimicking a bow, an act that seems to firm up the acceptance. "It has accepted you; good work, Loa." Milesian comments, and the maid, with a small, polite smile on her face, attempts to hug me, only to be stopped by Milesian, who grabs her hand and pulls her up a bit, almost to her feet. "Loa, cool down first, or else you'll burn her."
Loa stops, widening her eyes for a moment before closing them, taking in deep breaths as the colors in the metal parts of her uniform subside until the heat coming from her almost dies out. To help the process, Milesian touches her armor parts and waits until it cools down, not caring if she'll get burned; one thing that I learn by observing is that she apparently can't be burned, or at least it seems by how she can touch the maid and be fine.
Time passes, and once Milesian gives Loa the green lights, the maid rushes to hug me; her embrace is so tight that I start to feel my wounds again, so much so that it too resurfaces the tiredness the tea was pushing away from my system. My eyes dive into the darkness as I let out one final painful groan and pass out from exhaustion.
Time: 21:30
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Slowly, I open my eyes. It feels like time passed when I closed my eyes. From behind my bed, the circular window of the attic only shines with moonlight, giving me a hint as to what hour it must be. With a groan, I sit up on the bed and feel a weight pulling some of the blanket that was atop me. It takes about five blinks to focus my eyes on the shadowed figure seated on the edge of my bed; the white hair of the silver maid flows as a sudden wind coming from the half-open window blows past her. At my movement, she turns her head to face me, those glowing orange eyes in the dark enough to scare anyone, but strangely, not me at this moment, as I notice they hold some guilt.
"I passed out, I presume," To my words, Loa nods her head. "Yeah, I figured. After everything that happened, that was bound to happen, I guess."
My eyes travel to a weak steam rising from an item in Loa's hands; she secures a bowl with some of the stew she was making before this happened. Noticing that, I tilt my head. "Is that for me?"
Quickly, the maid nods her head and hands me the bowl, only rising up to turn on a bedside lamp nearby before sitting back down again.
"Thank you," I try taking the spoon from the bowl, finding my body too weak to do it. Loa, as if expecting it, gently takes the spoon for me and gathers some of the food in it, bringing it to my lips with the intention of feeding me. There is not many options in my state; I'm still beaten up and super hungry, so without looking away, I accept her help.
Everything after that passed by like a movie with missing scenes; she fed me, urged me to go back to sleep, and stayed with me till she was sure I was out like a light.
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