Children of the Forest

Chapter Seven

A/N: Hey, it's been a while. No idea if anyone is still reading this, but it's almost over. The next chapter will be the last.

***

I burst into the clearing frantically, gasping wildly for air. Adair cocked his head to the side pleasantly, missing my frenzied state.

"Hello," He greeted.

"There are going to be trespassers in this forest very soon, Adair!" I blurted, grasping his arm and urging him to his feet. "They're trying to find you!"

"So what? I showed you in your dream that they can't find us. We're fine." He responded nonchalantly, wiping his palms on his immaculate obsidian pants.

"You what?" I nearly shouted. When he didn't reply, my mind proceeded, glazing over this in its alarmed state. "Nevermind that – those are innocent officers coming here, technically because of me!" When he rose his eyebrows, catching my half truth, I added, "Oh, don't be a glaikit! Is there any way you could stop the forest from slaughtering them?"

"I could try. But – " He added, noting how I deflated in relief. "We have to actually wait for them."

And so we did.

"I'm sorry," Adair mumbled softly after I explained every detail of what happened after school. "What's even worse about betrayal is that it all begins with what appears to be a mutual trust, a mutual bond. Then, they take advantage and everything comes crashing down around you in one destructive, irreparable heap."

I couldn't have agreed more.

Time slipped through our fingers like grains of sand or diaphanous water. One hour passed, two. Adair showed me century old trees and taught me how to feed a doe without having it flee in terror. Three hours passed. We crept nearer to town, watching for any guard searching parties. I spied Frazer pacing frantically, twin droplets of water streaking his cheeks. The melancholy sky cast a grey lens over Enrith. Esther trudged over to Frazer on her skinny, petite legs, calling over to him in concern. They conversed. Esther glanced over at the trees fearfully.

Four hours passed. Adair Mentioned stories of his old life, stories of fishing and bedtimes stories. He told me that the forest liked me, which is why it let me find Adair. He told me that I illuminated his days with an ethereal, heavenly light with silvery cheeks, smiling self-consciously. He asked me to dance with him as the sun yawned and began dripping into the ground drowsily, hidden by a gauzy mercury veil, casting dull, grey shadows across our sleepy town.

Five hours passed, six. In our state of euphoria, he asked me if I trusted him, and I said I did. He asked me if I adored Coille Mallaichte, and I repeated my previous answer. He asked me if I loved him, and after a moment, I whispered that I did. He echoed my answer, a new bright flame flaring to life in his glowing lavender eyes, both ephemeral and inexorable at the exact same time.

The second the large bell tower announced that seven hours had passed, a group of guards gathered at the edge of the trees, the soft din of their prayers echoing throughout the pines. Standing behind a sycamore, Adair blew out a tired breath. He'd been subdued for the past hour.

A small congregation of portentous ravens cawed over the trees, momentarily shrouding us in darkness as they passed over the moon, which was a sharp smirk in the sky, deadly in the pool of black surrounding it, a scythe with a serrated edge. Chilled, I turned back to Adair, watching his pallid arms rise as the guards stepped into the forest. His face was stark against the shadowy darkness behind him, emphasizing the oddly inscrutable expression he wore, I shook myself of my suspicions as he trailed after the garuds; they wouldn't be able to see us, Adair had informed me earlier, because the forest was making us invisible to human eyes. "Thank you, Adair." I said quietly, grateful. When he turned to look at me, his face was devoid of emotion, his eyes dilated and hollow. He truly looked like a bodach: a spectre, a ghost.

"Adair..."

He thrust his hand towards the guards and clenched his fist. The instant eldritch scream that tore out of their vocal cords echoed throughout the nightmarish trees, ringing in my ears. Their bodies jerked in the roots, mutilated by the branches; blood dripped from their ears, spilled from their eyes, as black, nefarious twigs branched out of their mouths, spurting with ruby flowers and bloodied leaves.

Death coated my tongue; Murder stroked a dripping knife down my spine; Dread carressed my face with thin fingers.

Through the wails ripping through the air -- some of which were my own -- I heard a familiar sonorous voice coursing out of Adair's mouth, chanting:

"Trapped inside this wooden cage,

Obscured by darkness and filled with rage,

Snatched from your destined path,

Trust too easily and face its wrath.

Jealous of those with hearts that beat.

Pulsing veins and unrot meat?

Steal their trust, carve out their love,

They are useless, a murdered dove.

Sit atop your throne of thorns,

Wear your crown and do not mourn.

Phantom of the woods, king of the trees,

Once a child of the forest,

Now a child set free."

The bellowing shrieks of agony ceased as all of the guards were successfully mutilated beyond recognition. Adair turned to me, his eyes still vacant and limpid. Behind him, I notice two other figures encaged within the elongated arms of an ashy tree, less drenched in crimson blood. He steps back mechanically, as if controlled by an invisible force, allowing me full view of the scene behind him. Ensconced within spindly roots were two bodies, distinctly familiar. It was his body, alongside mine.

"You and I are children of the forest," He said, his voice still not his own. "But you have freed me. You will be trapped in this forest for seven years now, to endure the isolation and loneliness that I endured. You will kill those who dare to trespass. Your desolation will clear you of your humanity. The forest will allow someone in after seven years, and you must gain their love and trust for you to be released. You will first appear as a dream, and can give them dreams."

I was crying violently, then, quaking with sobs.

Adair blinked, his eyes clearing, but only regarded me dispassionately. He laughed a little, glancing at the clearing where we spent so much time together. All of the talks on betrayal, all of the talks on trust. How ironic.

"Tha mi nam phaise den choille," he said in Scottish Gaelic. Somehow I knew exactly what he was saying. Fluently.

I am a child of the forest.

"A-nis tha mi saor,"

Now I am free.