Chapter 2-Finlay.

The sounds of triumph still echoing in their ears, Lilly and Finlay began the task of packing up their gear. Their breath misted in the cool air of the Dahoogen Forest, their faces flushed from the rush of their recent victory over the Hopwoods, who were gathering their gear, surprisingly maintaining good cheer amongst themselves.

As they dismantled their equipment, they were discussing key moments from the game.

"Did you have to blow that pea at Harwood with such force?" Finlay asked, his voice filled with reproach. "You almost made him fall out of the tree!"

"Well, it wasn’t deliberate. I really hate it when I hurt someone. I get overexcited and lose focus.”

Finlay laughed, “it’s ok, you’re allowed to misjudge a projectile every now and then… at least that's what my mother has always taught me.”

Lilly laughed.

Eventually, they reached the spot where Lilly had left her barrow-cart and the two goats, Pickle and Nutmeg. The goats, now no longer required for transport, seemed content to nibble on the lush green grass.

Untying the goats from the barrow-cart, Lilly decided to pull the cart herself. The simple wooden contraption, just today, a vehicle for a thrilling journey, now carried their gear home.

As they exited the forest, the goats trotted alongside the cart, their bleats harmonizing with the rustling of leaves and the chirping of distant birds. Finlay walked next to Lilly, their shadows shrinking as the morning progressed..

"Thorburn was really clutching his bottom when you struck him with that pea bullet!" Finlay chuckled, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Was it really necessary to be so harsh?"

"I lost focus for a second. Aah why was that?” She asked rhetorically, scratching her chin, pretending to be a wise old sage. “Oh yes, I remember now… Someone mistook a poor raspberry bush for a Hopwood harvester, yes, that’s it! Yes, that’s what it was! “ Lilly shot back, her eyes sparkling. "Next time, get your eyes checked, cousin!"

"You seriously thought a raspberry bush was one of the Hopwood harvesters?" Lilly burst out laughing, her hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. "I can't believe you're the spotter on our team!"

Finlay rolled his eyes, a grin spreading across his face, "Well, at least I don't talk to the birds! Who does that? 'Oh, hello Mr. Finch, could you kindly guide my blowgun?'"

Lilly stopped abruptly, turning to face him, her eyes wide with surprise. "What are you talking about, Finlay?" she asked, her voice full of confusion. "I don't talk to the birds!"

Finlay raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "Oh, really? Then how do you explain how you knew exactly where to aim, when to shoot, or when to move to avoid being hit? It seemed like you had eyes all over the forest."

Lilly’s eyes widened further, and her heart pounded in her chest. She had thought her secret was safe, known only to her mother. Yet, here was Finlay, detailing everything with such certainty. "It's not...I mean...I don't...it just looks like that!" she stammered, desperately trying to deflect. "I'm just good with animals. Anybody might think that if they watched closely."

Finlay laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Lilly, it's okay. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. In fact, it's incredibly cool”.

"But, how did you...?" she trailed off, still in shock.

Finlay looked at her and sighed, "Your mother, my Aunt. You know her. You might have met her once or twice. She told me. But don't worry, I never mentioned it to anyone else. Not even to dad or mom. Your secret is safe with me."

"Oh, and you might want to think about getting some new spectacles too while you're up there chatting with the birds."

Feigning indignation, Lilly folded her arms across her chest, "Well, maybe you should get your hearing checked. It was you who didn’t hear the bell and almost lost us the game!”

"Hey, I was busy saving your pea shot, remember?" he retorted, his tone playful, "And it's not my fault your bird friends didn't give you a heads-up."

"And don’t start about your supposed 'heroic warning to Barry.' You were just scared that Harwood would cry if I hit him!" Lilly snapped back, jabbing her finger 6 inches from Finlay’s chest.

Lilly huffed as she continued, "You could've warned me, you know! About that tree branch that nearly smacked me in the face."

Finlay glanced at her, a small smirk on his face. "Oh, please, like you couldn't have asked your feathered friends."

"Oh, so now you're mocking me!" Lilly snapped, her cheeks heating up.

"I'm just saying," he replied, his tone patronizing, "You're the one with the feathered secret service."

"Well, at least I contribute! All you do is stand there and yell out play orders like a drunk with a wobbling ale gut and waving a half eaten chop in the air. Even a stupid squirrel could do that!" she shot back.

Finlay's smirk vanished, and he scowled at her. "I'll have you know that spotting is a difficult job. And besides, I fix things. Remember who keeps your bike running!"

"At least I don't get grease on everything I touch," Lilly retorted, "and don't forget who feeds your pet cat when you forget!”

"Like I ever asked for your help!" Finlay exclaimed, his voice tinged with annoyance. "And you're one to talk! You bring half the forest home in your hair!"

"That's better than smelling like oil and old newspapers!” She pushed her right hand forwards, and waggled her pointed index finger at her cousin, wriggling to and fro, “Maybe you got that thing with the old news-rags from your mother.” she said, hands now on her hips. “I see how it works now. Yes yes. I got it: She spends two weeks researching the jaw muscles of pregnant Red-bellied frogs, and the history of the design and creation of sewerage pipes, all memorized as a weapon just to bore law abiding innocent children to death!” She paused to scowl, and jabbed her right index finger into the air between them, slowly rocking, like a tiny head nodding back and forth, “ It all makes sense now.” she said in a slow pretend-reflective voice. “Then she gives those disgusting used papers to you, to rub all over your body, so you can attract the flies!“. She stood triumphantly with her hands on her hips, her head slightly rocked back in a short lived victory pose.

"Oh, and smelling like bird droppings is better?" he countered, his cheeks reddening with rage..

"Just because your mother is smart like a professor, that doesnt give you the right to be a prize winning figgle- wig!” She yelled, with a single furious leap into the air, landing with a soft thud. Without pausing, she continued, shaking her right hand frantically in front of Finlays face. “Ugh! You're such a figgle-wig!”, she exclaimed, now throwing her hands up in anger.

"And you're a nertle-breath!" he shouted back, his arms firmly planted on his hips, his cheeks reddening even more.”you're the nertliest, of all nertles in nertle land, who is the winner of The World Nertle Breath competition, and prays to the Nertle god,” he paused trying to think of a way to complete the curse. Lilly continued for him, “ to give nertle gods the power to bestow nertle breath to the nertles of the known world, past , present and future… And beyond.” Lilly finished with a wide smile. “ Yes.Thank you. And double tha …. ”

He stopped mid sentence as laughter took over, rendering him mute, his body locked in a trembling embrace, he leaned forwards, his hands on his bent knees, he tried to gather himself, only to loose control again. Eventually, he was able to gather himself, “How did you think of bringing something as ridiculous as flies into the fight? That was freaking brilliant!,” he continued, “Remind me not to fight or debate you ever…. You're too quick for me!”

He stepped a little closer to her, and lazily draped his arm over her shoulder.

“I yield. I yield.” he said companionably, removing his arm. “You win! Once you said the word ‘flies’, it was game over. There’s no coming back from there.” Still chuckling, he put his hands in his pockets and continued his walk home.

Finally, after a moment of silence, now caught up, walking side by side and pulling the box cart behind her, Lilly said, "You know, you're not so bad for a walking oil spill." She couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips.

They laughed together, their argument forgotten as they continued their journey.

"Did you know," Finlay suddenly said after a minute of companiable silence, mimicking his mother's tone, "that a group of jellyfish is called a smeklehop?"

Lilly could not help herself, “Did you know," she said, imitating Finlay, "that some humans can't distinguish between raspberry bushes and humans? Well mainly the half blind, lower breed ones, like me, Finlay Wallace!” Lilly countered.

He burst out laughing, his eyes sparkling with life, his face creased with mirth. “ Yes, yes…. well said. As the ‘lord of the flies’, remember, I’ve already yielded to you Lilly Sommerset.”

They were laughing as they caught sight of Finlay’s house, a familiar concluding punctuation mark in their short trip home.

Instead of stables and vegetable patches, their garden was dominated by a large shed filled with the incessant humming and rhythmic thumping of a printing press. The remaining open space was littered with miscellaneous equipment amidst a few solitary trees.

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Finlay and Lilly stopped outside, Findlays house sitting on the other side of the same street as Lilly’s, the address being 12 Ridge Way.

“Do you want to come over later, and help me round up the chickens for the new enclosure your father built?” asked Lilly.

“I’ll think about it.” laughed Finlay. “Maybe.”

The cousin’s parted ways, their task done for the day, gaining a perch in the second round of the Oak Badger heats.

———-

One day, 5 years ago, Finlay’s father, Rufus had returned to Maple Ridge with an old printing press in tow. This massive contraption, with its labyrinth of metal gears, levers, and rollers, was hitched to a cart, drawn by a sturdy horse. With a spark in his eyes, Rufus had claimed that this machine would revolutionize their lives forever. His wife, Sara, a cautious woman by nature, was skeptical, yet despite her doubts, she watched in astonishment as Rufus's prediction came true.

With the birth of 'The Maple Observer', their lives did change. The newspaper began to amass a readership that extended well beyond the borders of their small hamlet. Rufus was in his element, navigating the complex mechanics of the printing press, with ink-stained fingers and a constant hum of the press serving as the backdrop to their lives.

At first, Finlay's involvement was minimal. He held a tool while Rufus made repairs, or he positioned and held a mirror to light up part of the machine more shrouded in darkness. He watched closely as the older man deftly maneuvered around the machine, oiling gears and adjusting rollers. But then, something unexpected happened - Finlay began to understand the machine. He could almost feel its pulse, anticipate its needs, and before long, he found himself making suggestions that left even Rufus surprised.

The printing press was not merely a machine to Finlay; it was a living, breathing entity that he could communicate with. Just as his cousin Lilly could understand and respond to the subtle cues of the animals she interacted with, Finlay found himself attuned to the mechanical world. He could sense when a gear was out of alignment, feel the tension in a lever that was about to give way, hear the slight change in rhythm that indicated an impending jam.

Over time, Finlay's ability to 'read the machine' grew. He was no longer just the son assisting his father; he had become a virtuoso of the printing press. Word of his mechanical aptitude spread, and it wasn't long before he found himself assisting others in the hamlet. He fixed bicycles, designed an ingenious device to water overheating thatched roofs, and even created a contraption to monitor and control the food intake of animals.

Finlay had a unique affinity for these machines, understanding their inner workings in a way that others found bewildering. To an observer, it would appear that any device with a moving part would respond to his touch and care, almost as if it could recognize his understanding. To Finlay, it felt like a form of mechanical love, a bond as real and tangible as any human relationship. And in this world of gears and levers, he found a sense of purpose and a place where he truly belonged.

———-

As the Oak Badger trials took a hiatus for two weeks during the school holidays, Finlay found himself on a unique assignment for the 'Maple Observer'. These travelling jobs, he would always bring Lilly with him. The newspaper work was a welcome change of pace for him, providing a counterpoint to the fast-paced thrills and adrenaline rush of the games. The beauty of it was that no two days were the same, and every story brought a new adventure. This particular assignment, however, was to prove more unusual and exciting than most.

An anonymous note had found its way into Rufus's letterbox. It spoke of an intriguing phenomenon happening beyond the southern border of the Dahoogen forest, near the secluded walls of Kingstown and the Lupine woods. A new river was supposedly forming, a remarkable natural occurrence that would undoubtedly make a captivating story for the newspaper's readership.

Kingstown, situated a fair distance away from Maple Ridge, was a place shrouded in mystery. Established 250 years ago after the expulsion of Wudric the 3rd, the sector had grown into its own independent shire, technically a different country. It was enclosed by towering walls, with the only point of access being a solid iron gate, rarely opened except for occasional trade or diplomatic purposes.

Kingstown had evolved its own unique identity over the centuries, with distinct rulers, laws, currency, and culture. The residents, descendants of Wudric's family, supporters and staff had become known as the "Wuds" . Their relations with the people of Hawks-Landing and the surrounding areas were strained at best, with each society viewing the other with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

With the tantalizing prospect of exploring this new river and possibly getting a rare glimpse of the elusive Kingstown, Finlay and Lilly set off on their adventure. For the cousins, these outings were about more than just gathering information for the newspaper. They were an opportunity to explore, to learn, and most importantly, to satisfy their mutual love for adventure.

Sara, Finlay's mother, and Ruth, Lilly’s mother would later give form to their findings, weaving the raw data into compelling stories. They were essentially, the entire editorial and writing staff of ‘the observer’, and in reality, were the backbone of the enterprise. But for now, the mystery of the newborn river awaited them, somewhere out there in the vast expanse of the Dahoogen forest.

———

As Finlay and Lilly ventured into the anticipated location, their senses were greeted with a sight far beyond any earthly phenomenon they had ever imagined. Skyward, fountains of water seemed to burst forth directly from the fabric of the sky itself, painting a spectacle that was as mesmerizing as it was baffling.

Unlike the familiar downward drizzle of a rain shower, the water spewed horizontally, in random fine jets that maintained its shape for hundreds of metres, a display that reminded Lilly of fantastical stories from the bedtime tales her mother used to narrate, featuring magic sprinklers decorating the gardens of celestial beings. Over a course of time, the water had accumulated at a singular ground location, etching a path through the verdant fields. This water trail deepened and steadily poured its contents into a tributary of the Willow Bark River.

The birth of this new river in itself was a sight to behold, yet it was the skyward sprinklers that had captivated the attention of the cousins. They strolled around the vicinity, their youthful curiosity aflame, scanning their surroundings for any hints that could shed light on this strange spectacle

—————-

Lilly and Finlay strolled along a dirt path, their footsteps accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves under their feet. The path stretched ahead, leading them away from the original site of the sprinklers and into a world of enchantment. On their right, the grand walls of Kingstown stood tall, an imposing reminder of the secret city. To their left, a small hill rose, adorned with vibrant greenery and mysterious allure marking the start of the Lupine woods. Straight ahead, the path disappeared into the Southern border of the Dahoogen forest.

From the main route, they veered left into a new path marked by a wooden sign with the words “Lupine Woods”. After they cleared the first hillock, they paused to look beyond, towards the west. The landscape unfolded before them like a story waiting to be discovered. Dams and small lakes dotted the countryside, their serene waters reflecting the surrounding beauty. Wooden bridges arched gracefully over the glistening streams, inviting the cousins to cross into new realms of exploration. Trees of various species—majestic oaks, slender birches, towering pines—created a canopy overhead, casting dappled shadows on the path below.

The air was alive with the symphony of nature. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their melodious songs filling the air. Squirrels scurried along tree trunks, their fluffy tails flicking playfully. The occasional glimpse of a timid deer or a mischievous fox added to the magic of their journey.

As they ventured further, they came across remnants of the past. Discarded wagon wheels lay abandoned, half-buried in the earth, whispering tales of long-forgotten travels. An aged house, abandoned, its timeworn walls standing as a testament to years gone by, stood in solemn solitude, its secrets hidden within its decaying facade.

As they walked, Lilly broke the silence asking Finlay, “Why do they call these the lupine woods do you think?” He paused to think, “ At a guess, once upon a time these woods had no houses, or paths. It was just grassland and trees, probably with wolves roaming around, barking and howling at travellers and their carts, then they eventually cleared the wolves, and farms came into the area, and the never updated the name.”

“Wolves don’t bark. They howl.” she said.

“Are you sure?” he questioned. “I reckon some bark every now and then.”

“Maybe. I’ve never heard of a barking wolf though.”

“I have.” he said confidently. “I'm pretty sure I have.”

She looked at Finlay, puzzled, and returned her gaze to the path.

Finlay looked back, with a very faint smirk on his lips.

The landscape seemed to shift, revealing the quirks and oddities that made this region unique. Unusual rock formations emerged from the earth, their intricate patterns resembling ancient symbols waiting to be deciphered. Curious wildflowers, vibrant in hues of purple and yellow, peeked out from between the grass, their delicate petals reaching towards the sun.

Dwellings, scattered along the path, added a touch of human presence to the natural wonders. Each home seemed to hold a story of its own—a craftsman's workshop, a cozy cottage with smoke billowing from the chimney, a garden teeming with colorful blooms and aromatic herbs. The inhabitants, tucked away in their peaceful abodes, went about their daily lives, unaware of the extraordinary adventure unfolding just beyond their doorstep.

Lilly and Finlay soaked in the beauty of their surroundings, their senses captivated by the sights, sounds, and scents of this enchanting landscape. With every step, they felt a deep connection to the land and the mysteries it held.

Lilly glanced up at the sky, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "I can't help but wonder, Finlay, what could those sprinklers be? It's unlike anything I've ever seen before. Do you think it's some kind of advanced technology, or perhaps a natural occurrence we're not aware of?"

As they explored, Lilly's eyes sparkled with wonder. "Hey, Finlay, do you think these sprinklers are actually secret portals to another world? Like, what if we step into one and find ourselves in a land filled with candy canes and flying animals?"

Finlay chuckled, shaking his head. "How can they be portals? Look how high up in the air they are? How would you get up there anyway? …and even if you did, I don’t see a door to walk through, but, if it were true, it would be flippin’ amazing Lilly, but I think there's a more logical explanation. Maybe these sprinklers are like nature's way of watering the sky. You know, it rains up there, meaning all the water comes down here. Perhaps that leaves the sky too dry, and it needs water as well.”

Lilly's brows furrowed as she crossed her arms. "But the water from the jets also comes down, anyway, that’s way too boring, Finlay! I think it's a secret fountain of life that makes everything around it turn into a magical wonderland. Can you imagine having a sip and suddenly growing fairy wings?"

Finlay rolled his eyes playfully. "Oh, come on, Lilly. Fairy wings? That's a bit too fantastical, even for me. I'm leaning more towards the theory that these sprinklers are part of an ancient mystical ritual to awaken sleeping forest spirits. Imagine if we could actually communicate with them!"

Lilly huffed, crossing her arms tightly. "You always have to be so serious, Finlay. Can't you just let your imagination run wild for once?"

Finlay's lips curved into a mischievous grin. "And you're always getting carried away with your crazy ideas, Lilly. Sometimes, you need to ground yourself in reality."

As they continued to explore the Woods, their voices echoed through the trees, merging with the sounds of nature. With each step, they delved deeper into the mysteries surrounding the sprinklers and the secrets that awaited them in the heart of this magical realm.

“Hey look Fin!” cried Lilly, pointing past a copse of trees.

There lay a small lake, nestled between the grassland slopes, bedecked with scattered pine trees looking if they were trying to walk up the incline, but had become stuck a long time ago.

As Lilly and Finlay cautiously approached the waters of the lake, they noticed a small, weathered boat nestled among the reeds. It appeared almost otherworldly, as if plucked from the pages of a fantastical tale. Intrigued, they stepped closer, their hearts pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Without warning, the boat seemed to come alive, shivering with a restrained excitement that beckoned them forward. As if under a spell, Lilly and Finlay exchanged an incredulous glance before mustering the courage to climb aboard. The moment their feet touched the boat's deck, a gentle current stirred beneath the boat, propelling them forward with an otherworldly force.

Eyes wide with wonder, the cousins watched in awe as the surroundings transformed around them. The landscape of the Lupine woods faded into a distant mirage, replaced by the ethereal beauty of a hidden tunnel. The walls glowed with a soft luminescence that draped the cousins in a hypnotic warmth.

As the boat glided through the tunnel's depths, a sense of anticipation filled the air. Their journey seemed guided by an unseen hand, as if an invisible god, or giant had his finger on the boat, gently steering it forwards..

The tunnel led Lilly and Finlay into a cavern shrouded in the same soft yellow glow that had no focus, the distant sounds of echoing water drops reverberated through the air. As they cautiously stepped out of the boat onto a small sandy beach, their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit space, revealing the expanse before them. The cave stretched out, its dimensions: around 200 feet in depth, 150 feet wide, and reaching up to a towering height of 100 feet.Veils of moss and ferns clung to the rock surfaces, adding a touch of life to the otherwise ancient stone. The floor was adorned with a carpet of soft sand, leading towards a beach cove where the water path from the tunnel ended.

Standing on the beach, his presence commanding, was a man. A very old one. . His weathered face carried the weight of years, but his eyes sparkled with a wisdom that transcended time. Dressed in worn robes, he exuded an aura of ancient knowledge and resilience.

As Lilly and Finlay approached, he welcomed them with a warm smile. "Welcome, young travelers," he greeted, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "I am Seraphis.” He glanced down at a pocket watch in his hand, and snapped it shut, “Your arrival is accurate to the second!” he chuckled.

.