A Princess Summoning

A Princess Summoning: Snow Song

A Princess Summoning chapter 4

            Mary, with Ben and Dillon in tow, had been traveling for a week now surrounded by dark pine trees. She didn’t bother to look back and stop the kids from yelling at each other- “I told you that I didn’t dig that hole. You were just stupid enough to fall into it!”- but instead continued her long strides along the uneven dirt path and just hoped the boys were following closely behind.

            Really, what have I gotten myself into? Mary thought, grinding her teeth. First Benjamin decided to tag along. Fine, Mary thought. But I don’t see why I have to watch over- She peeked from the corner of her eye when Ben yelled out Mary’s name. Dillon was holding Ben up from the little boy’s shirt collar, grinning enthusiastically, as Ben struggled to get free. Mary sighed and picked up her pace.

            Mary looked around, a slight chill making her way through her body. It had been a long time since she had first arrived at Nightingale village, and she forgot how the forest would make strange noises. Bursts of howl and screeching would suddenly stop as if to test the nerves of travelers before fading into the gray darkness. And the fact that the tree branches were tightly packed together, that the few ray of light that did shine through only cast the shadows of the skinny branches hanging overhead.

            “Are we there yet?” Ben said. Mary sighed. That was the fifth time he had asked that question, Dillon starting the trend a day after they had departed Nightingale. “Are we Priestess?”

            Mary smiled down at Ben who held onto her hand. He looked up with eyes wide. “We’re not out of the bowl yet. Would probably take another day or so until we reach another village.”

            “I don’t see why our ancestors decided to make our village on the very bottom and center of the bowl. Why couldn’t we have it closer to the edge? Where everyone else is? I’m getting tired of walking all this hill,” Dillon complained, the dragging of his feet loud and clumsy. Ben laughed.

            “Don’t be so rude,” Mary said. “Believe it or not, but Nightingale used to be on top of a hill, until the demons stomped on it. It wasn’t your ancestors’ fault that the geography reversed itself.”

            “I never believed that story,” Dillon said. He took Ben’s other hand and together with Mary, swung Ben over the pothole on the ground. Ben landed lightly on his feet and smiled. “How did all these trees come from then? If the demons stomped on the hill to the point that it became a bowl.”

            Mary sighed. “Cycle of life? Come on. It happened ages ago. It was bound to grow again.”

            Dillon shrugged. “I still think we should have moved our village closer to the others. That way we wouldn’t have been so isolated.”

            Ben blinked, shaking his head. He squeezed Mary’s hand. “I don’t think we were isolated,” he muttered. “We weren’t, were we Priestess?”

            Mary squeezed his hand back. “No we weren’t. Dillon is just exaggerating.”

            Ben nodded his head. “Nightingale was so big. With so many people, of course we weren’t lonely.”

            Dillon scoffed, but didn’t say anything further. Good, Mary thought. He would probably say something stupid.

            After a few hours, Mary found herself helping Ben onto Dillon’s back. Ben rubbed his eyes, protesting weakly that he could still walk, but Mary hushed him.