Inferno [Incomplete]

4] Twilight Falling

The forest is quiet tonight. It's rare for the trees to be so still, so silent. All the birds have tucked themselves away, safe from the chilled air blowing in from the east. The Festival of Falling is in a few hours, but I've been told rain does not stop it. Somehow, the idea of dancing and singing in a small village during a storm has a great allure.

Ryifi, Tivy, and another faun called Illyia have come to the treehouse to 'prepare' Jasper and I. Apparently, fae (and their partners) have to have their hair done a certain way. So here I am, on my bedroom balcony, with a faun putting leaves and flowers in my hair.

"Can you feel it?" I ask softly, breaking the long comfortable silence.

Her fingers pause in a small braid, a flower stem neatly folded in. "Feel what?"

I gesture to the treeline, where the shadow of night has begun to fall. "The forest. How it breathes. Can you hear it?"

She does not respond, not immediately, and when her voice hits the air, it is laced with sadness. "Not the way you can."

My shoulders drop a little, and I don't say anything more. Jasper is getting much the same treatment as me in the living room from Tivy and Illyia - Ryifi's sister in law. She's quite different from the mother standing beside her. With jet black hair and soft blue eyes, the gentle exterior does not fool me. I can feel the rippling magic surrounding her.

Outside the treehouse, nothing moves, despite the cold wind. One bird softly chirps, a blackbird. The solitary song penetrates the whole forest, seemingly frozen in time. Either it is eagerly awaiting the celebrations or something is wrong.

Ryifi senses my discomfort, but mistakes it for nerves. "You needn't worry, Lady Jordan. My people are very welcoming, and have a great love for you allowing us to remain here. They will not blink an eye at your presence."

I only nod in response, focused on listening to the woods around us. Something shifts, on edge, nearby. The presence is familiar now, and it only raises more hair on my neck to have it disquietened. But I can do nothing until I am alone, or at least out of earshot from the others.

"There! Done," Ryifi says happily, her hooves thudding off the wooden floor. "Take a look."

Twisting my fingers, two mirrors leave the dresser and bob over on a cloud of purple. They rotate around my head and I look admiringly at her handiwork. Despite my hair still not having returned to the length it was a year ago, she has woven deep green leaves into small braids, two large ones curling from the back to my ears. In the middle there is a large purple blossom, and around it, also hanging in braids framing my face, are snowdrop flowers. On the opposite pattern from them, meeting in the middle, are ones I don't have a name for, but they are a rich, beautiful gold.

"Woah...thank you, Ryifi," I say, trying to pinpoint what the style reminds me of, "it looks like..."

"A crown," she finishes, grinning at me in the reflection.

My lips lift from their flat line, a bright smile in the mirror. The truth, though, is that the image of a crown makes my stomach squirm. I'm no queen, no leader. My blood has given me power and a name, but it takes more than that to be a figurehead. Who would follow me?

"Let's see how Jasper looks," Ryifi says excitedly, urging me up, "Illyia is amazing with this."

"I'll be there in a moment, I want to put some perfume on," I say, delicately touching the leaves in my hair.

"Okay."

She goes through to the living room, sparking up a conversation. I lean on the wooden railing, my smile becoming more genuine as memories come back. Heat twists my gut, making me turn my head to face the woods. Now is not the time to be thinking of that.