Beyond the Mist and Trees

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Humans, by nature, could be very impetuous. It was one of their many flaws. Their persistence, however, was one for debate. For many, it saved them. For others, it caused them their demise. But for the woman with short hair and her friends, it might just cost them their souls.

They were planning something—I knew that now. Since that night three days ago, they had been spending time together more than they should. And if I put into consideration the countless times they had been in trouble together, I could easily assume that they were up to no good.

I saw them grow up. In fact, I grew up with them. Perhaps I was older by a year or two, but I was undoubtedly far ahead in maturity. They still played like children, got into trouble for petty things, and they still thought they could get away with anything. But I must admit that they had always been far better entertainers than the traveling circus of fairies and elves of the forest.

For years, I witnessed them plan for things I could not understand. I would wait for days until they executed those plans. And almost always, I would find humor in their failures, the trouble they caused, and most of all, how they always survived the consequences.

But it was different now. I knew they were planning something that involved the mist and the chosen bride for the Snow King. The two young men would nonchalantly observe the village men who patrolled their side of the mist wearing their funny masks.

I would not care if they got caught by the men. As the Guardian of the Mist, my concerns were far greater. I cared about the fire they brought near the mist. I cared about it getting into the mist. But most of all—and I'm not even exaggerating—I cared about what the mist would do to them.

I was the Guardian of the Mist for a reason and it was not so no human could enter it. I was guarding it so it did not hurt anyone. And yes, sadly, including the humans.

As the only trained guardian, I was the only who one could control the mist's wrath. Without me, it could grow and consume anything in its path. Just like hatred.

But it is hatred, I thought as I silently watched the woman and her two friends slowly walking near the edge of the border, quite confident they were unseen. They had by now learned the patrol schedule.

Beside me, Ivy yawned. She was too young to stay up all night to watch the mist with me, and far too young to awaken her ability to control it. For now, I just let her stay and watch like I did when I was her age. Otto would silently hold the mist together so it did not spread back into the forest, and outward into the human village.

"Tell me the story again, brother," Ivy said, leaning against the trunk of the tree.

"What story?"

"The mist," she said, lifting her mask slightly upward.

I pulled it lower, giving her a silent warning for breaking the one rule she kept forgetting: no taking off the mask.

The heaviness in my midriff swelled, and I lifted a finger to remind the mist that I was in control. It relaxed, withdrawing into a thin, clear wall. I felt the invisible force that connected me to it relax as well.

"Brother," Ivy prodded, pushing away from the trunk to kneel beside me, reaching for my shoulder-length hair. If Chiara practiced her skills on Ivy, my sister practiced hers on mine. Her little fingers worked on a thin braid, then tugged when I refused to speak.

I sighed and droned out the story I had told her too many times before. "A long time ago, the forest lived amongst the humans. The Snow Queen opened the castle to everyone. She made friends with all kinds of creatures, including the humans whom she adored the most. Food was bountiful and—"