The Weight of the World

Chapter 5: Viridian

By the time he'd reached the edge of the forest, Viridian had gotten soaked through and his clothes had begun to cling to him like a second layer of skin. The air felt heavy with the loitering scent of the damp woodland and despite everything, Viridian took a moment to sit down against a log. The elf stared out to the blurry outline of Mauve, hazy streams of smoke trailing from the shadows he recognised as houses. Water seeped through his cloak but he was much too hurt to care.

The rain had awakened the trees, and with each droplet that fell on the leafy branches, Viridian heard the forest's softly beating heart. He tilted his head back, letting the water cascade onto his face as if it would wash away the day's troubles. Yet his shoulder felt so sore and he wondered why it hurt to blink.

Slightly wincing, he shut his eyes, letting rivulets of azure trace down to his neck like tears he so dearly yearned to cry. He wanted to scream but strangely laughter slipped his lips. It was as if the rain drove him mad, and Viridian longed to leap up and dance in it. But his body wouldn't move so instead his mind wandered to the past. He pictured himself where it felt like yesterday; spinning in warm summer showers with his mother.

Opening his eyes, Viridian could almost see her- his mother's face like a creature of delight amidst the storm. He stood up suddenly, an excited heart hammering against his ribs. The ghostly visage almost beckoned him, and with false hope, the elf chased it through the trees. Water pounded onto his head blurring his vision, but still he ran after the fallacious burning glow. Viridian caught up out of breath and flung his arms around it, but as he fell to his knees he realised there was nothing there.

Viridian threw himself back to lie on the moss, breathing heavily with each shimmering droplet which fell on his face. His whole body ached but wasn't it all worth it to experience moments like these? He cursed that odd posh boy- yet he hadn't been so wrong. Viridian would've punched himself too. He sighed wearily to the clouds, wishing to them he could stay there endlessly.

He was battered and shivering, but the rain had made him feel so alive.

***

Viridian would have been lying if he'd said there hadn't been only one thing on his mind since his interaction with Ochre. His mother. He'd tried to brush it off like he usually did- try to forget the reason he'd gotten into so many fights at school since it'd happened. After all, how was it fair that somebody who was dead could still be responsible for so much of the anger Viridian felt? So, after quite a moment of internal debating, the elf had decided it would only do to pay a visit to the cemetery.

He trudged down each one of Mauve's gloomy roads, the ambience just as miserable as the weather. It wasn't raining as heavily as back in the forest, still the streets were mostly deserted and only the odd nymph or druid wandered about in a rush to get indoors. Viridian sighed, rather content that that meant he probably wouldn't have any unexpected run-ins with anybody he knew. Though he'd talked about making plans before the holidays, he had simply not found either the time or reason just yet.

Somewhat distracted, Viridian found himself stopping at a low fence with a looming gate at its centre. Its silvery paint shone with the rain where it wasn't rusted, the corroded grey covered in weedy branches strangling each metal bar. He huffed and pushed it open, a dreadful screech escaping the aged hinges. The entrance to the graveyard was crowded with trees, their unkempt branches brushing the ground in the wind.

He walked past tombs which were drowned with flowers or buried amongst picture frames and letters. Viridian kept his head down, all too familiar with each grassy bend and corner. He finally stood still, metres away from an ebony-black headstone almost hidden underneath the weeping arms of a willow tree. Upon the grave lay a withered bouquet of marigolds, and Viridian was filled with slight guilt at not having brought any roses to replace them.