The Lonely Ones

Chapter Five: The White Tree

Six Years Later

Artemis doesn't fear the Grim Woods. He belongs there. He wanders as a ghost among the dense forest shaded by old branches that creak when the wind blows through. If one listens, they may hear the trees telling tales of all they've seen. The creeks shimmer clearer than polished glass, glimmering rocks below like jewels waiting to be worn on an elegant lady's neck.

Elk with horns wider than Artemis is tall stalk through the trees. Their eyes gleam black against tan fur. He has never had the heart to kill them, finding that the moss growing on their backs and vines twisting in their antlers are symbols of an ancient beast that commands respect. And there are others like them, foxes made wholly of bark and leaves or birds as big as a grown man with wings of golden fire. The forest is ancient, but only after traveling them has Artemis truly understood how old.

Ima warned him of beasts within the woods that he could never stand against. What those may be, he isn't entirely sure, and he's grateful to not have learned. There have been times where he felt it; something ancient and dark waiting to awake. Mounds encircled by waist high stones with runes carved into them rest here or there throughout the forest. When a breeze runs by, it chills him to his core. Ima's words come to mind again; maybe there are dragons sleeping under hills, breathing warmth that keeps the woods forever green.

He doesn't plan to test the theory.

But there is one place that Artemis wishes to explore, even while knowing the danger. A white tree that rests as far as he's ever traveled into the Grim Woods. It sits alone, surrounded by evergreens, small but eerily beautiful with silvery bark and leaves a pale blue. Should one rest their hand against the bark, they'll find that it's as cold as ice, and yet the grass still grows and the leaves are full. The roots twist into the earth, spreading like veins through the land. Beneath the tree, there's a narrow opening leading to a shadowy tunnel. Artemis has never done more than stick his head in, fearful of what may rest below.

Where does it lead? What secrets do the Grim Woods hold? He asks, but doubts he'll ever know.

Although the Grim Woods remain a threat, even to Artemis and his enchantment, he always gazes back longingly when he leaves. When day breaks, he will return to the forest, to the solitude that has become a part of him over the last six years. He takes his kills wrapped on a sled to the center of town where he has a small shop. The shop sits slanted against the rest. Tan brick stone with a brown roof and shutters hanging on rusted hinges. There, he skins and preserves the meats, selling what he doesn't take for himself.

Artemis' shop is the most popular in town, even if it only opens in the late afternoon or early evening, even if most of the townsfolk are suspicious and a little fearful of the owner. Travelers are less fearful, unaware of Artemis' gift. Many believe he is a skilled hunter only. They step into the shop, purchase what they need for the road, then leave. He makes quite the coin, even with having to pay taxes to the king for hunting on his lands. The Grim Woods aren't his lands, but Artemis wouldn't dare argue.

"Good afternoon, Artie!" Maggie calls, one of few that treat Artemis with the same kindness that she gives to others. She hops into the hut with a basket, beaming brightly until he hums in response. She brushes a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "You, uh, you've made some great catches today. Well, I guess you always do. I hope you haven't run into any trouble, though. There's word that more travelers have gone missing from the Jolly Road than usual these last few weeks."

"Probably because the red caps are patrolling the road. They'll move on soon enough."

"You've seen them?"

"Mhm." Artemis slices into the coat of a fox, skinning it with freakish precision. Maggie gags, turning her back. She struggles not to think of what the sounds entail.