The Open Sky: Eternal Forest Saga - Book 3

Chapter 20

 The Grove was truly a blessing bigger than the Open Sky could have imagined. It was just the right mix of seclusion and fortification. The space was also big enough for the entire movement to live comfortably. There was a water source nearby as well. It was the perfect place to hide from the world.

Of course, this didn't mean they let down their guard. A watch was set at multiple points on the mountain at all times. Sentries were stationed at the narrow crevice that led into the valley. Those at the posts stayed on high alert, but for the most part, the rest of the fugitive movement relaxed for the first time in ages. Tents and fire pits were erected larger and with hardier materials, a clear sign they no longer foresaw the need to pick up and leave at a moment's notice.

High up on the cliff face, Orchid sat against a tree and peered over the edge to the Savage Lands below. She'd never been this high in the mountains before and seeing the endless stretch of treetops was surreal. Orchid knew the Lady's forest was endless, but to be so high and see the foliage go on forever was humbling.

A cursory glance to her right allowed her to look upon her fellow Open Sky devotees in their fledgling camp. Though the vantage was unfamiliar, the feeling wasn't. The Open Sky mostly consisted of Harmonious from the desolated village of Faith-haven. Before the Balisekts marched, Orchid had settled into a position somewhere between the Harmonious humans and her fellow Elves in nearby Moon-hollow. She was alone on the divide between two worlds, two cultures; free to come and go in both but not feeling like she belonged in either.

She'd been in her position since before dawn, and the sun's high resting place in the sky indicated it was time to swap with her relief. Sure enough, it was only moments later that she heard footsteps coming up the side of the mountain. As the new watch was set, Orchid made her way back to the camp below. The further she descended the mountain, the more sounds she heard from camp. People chattered, kids played, at least one was even playing a small, string instrument. As she approached, she noticed the green handprint still on the shoulders of many. She looked at her palm, which still bore a stain from the ink used to give the marks. Orchid wished that ink would never wash away. She never wanted to forget the Shimmer-sehr where she was allowed to bestow the Lady's blessing.

She reached the bottom of the hill, where the outermost structures had been erected. Here she turned and made her way towards the entrance to the grove. She'd set her tent further from the rest, just as she had back at the old camp. Though the Open Sky had accepted her, she couldn't shake the feeling that she belonged on the outskirts. It was where she'd been most of her life, and thus where she felt the most comfortable.

Crossing the empty field in the western part of the valley, near the entrance, she saw Sunrise with his back to her. He was standing meditatively, moving his hands slowly with palms open. It wasn't hard to see what he was doing. Sunrise spent every day trying to get his magic back. Orchid had watched this same routine from a distance many times already. At the old camp, she'd wanted to try and help but always felt shy around him, so she kept her distance. Now, whenever she was close to him, his hurtful words from the march to the Grove haunted her memories.

She started to move on, but Sunrise jerked his hand again for another failed spell attempt, and the shoulder on his robe shifted to reveal part of the green mark. It gave her pause. He didn't have to take part in the ceremony. There was no doubt he'd had his reservations about it, but he received the mark from her anyway. Sunrise had tried to push past what he thought he knew and grow as a person. Maybe she could try to forgive him.

"Hey," she called out. Her voice was weak and unsure.

Sunrise stopped and turned. She could see the exasperation on his face from yet another day filled with failure. "Hey," he replied just as unsurely. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come up."