The Bride Rite: Sea of Trees

The Forest

I trudged my way out to the shed in the backyard, the cold wind biting at my cheeks and turning them a rosy shade of pink. I pulled my scarf up, no longer strangling me, or maybe it was? Mama had knitted it for me last Winter Solstice. I'd loved it, so soft and vibrant, the hues of a robin's egg blue. Papa had purchased the blue dye from a traveling merchant who'd passed through Asura the previous spring. Mama had secretly worked on the scarf for months, carefully weaving in delicate white patterns reminiscent of our beloved Snowcrest Mountains.

The sentiment had recently been tainted though, it wasn't on goodwill. She thought it would catch me a husband, it brought out the blue in my eyes, the shininess of my autumnal hair. The dye was expensive, showcasing the nice dowery Papa had gifted me. I knew Mama had done it to catch the Mayor's attention, he was far older than me but recently widowed. It would have made me Mercy's Mother-in-Law, ironically.

I wondered if my scarf had captured Aeron's attention as well? Did it draw him in? I think it was too easy to blame the scarf. If his words about liking me for as long as he said he did was any indication he'd had his eyes on me for far longer than that.

"You liked that didn't you Gingy? Liked my touches? I can give you more...."

I bit my lip as I tried to shake the memories of Harvest Festival from my mind and push forward, the snowshoes crunching over the top layer of fresh packed snow. I thought he'd just been drunk then, as he pushed me between him and the hay barrel, that he would come to his senses. He didn't, and if something didn't happen he'd be able to do whatever he wanted to me. It had been bad enough when he'd shoved me against the hay, his knee forcing my legs open, one arm forcing my wrists over my head as his other grasped my breast painfully, twisting like a screw. He kept his mouth to mine so I couldn't scream, and honestly, if Christian hadn't found us there- I didn't want to think of the horrors that would have happened.

I swallowed hard, finally reaching the shed, I pushed on the creaky door and stepped inside, greeted by the familiar scent of wood and chicken feed. It was warmer in here away from the breeze that blew upon the structure with a vengeance. I groaned, my breath coming out as a white puff as I grabbed the rope for the sled and the axe from the hook.

I placed the large wood-cutting axe onto my family's sled before grasping the thick rope through my mittens, and hauling it out onto the waiting snow. Normally I would be excited to go into the woods, I loved it there. We'd go for picnics in the spring, swimming in the summer, acorn hunting in the fall... When winters were lean, my father would go hunting for deer with some of his friends at the small cabin lodge we shared with five other families. Growing up we'd made a day out of it, playing hide and seek behind pines while our fathers hunted close by. Now, we'd only go two or three days out of the year due to how busy we were. Plus, who didn't want egg and onion soup every single week? Maybe the sarcasm was a little much.

The back of our house was close to the forest edge, I only had to slip past a few small cabins as I went, thankful that I was not on the other side of the village and would have to circle it. Aeron lived across from us on the other side of the square, so moving from cabin to cabin as if on a casual stroll was easy, and he didn't see me. Thank the Gods. The woods beckoned, their towering trees forming a natural canopy above me as I moved towards the hidden path, like town it was blanketed in snow, the only low points under the trees themselves. It's what helped me find the path, it was just a small trail free from the growth of trees that cut through the forest. Sometimes there would be rocks that would signal direction or which way to turn but those were scarce and few between. Not many people went north towards the mountains. We were the last village before the range, and it was a dangerous journey to the other side of the mountain range, there were villages on that side as well but they speckled the coast and were usually reached by boat instead of cutting through. Anyone who tried had a tendency of not making it to their destination.