The Kindreds, Volume 1

The Eleventh, Pt. 5

.  .  .

The following day, they continued their journey, stopping at sun-high to drink from a stream alongside birds the size of a thumb. Some of the creatures, it seemed, were not so afraid of the filly. The water was cool and the ground was soft, and Sada didn't want to leave. But she knew she must, and one look from the caelicorn was enough to tell her that her new friend would not allow her to give up even if she was nearly ready to herself. And so she forced herself to go on. Looking for herbs and trying to identify the plants she came across helped to keep her mind off the rapidly growing idea that she would never escape this forest.

Though she was beginning to think that she had entered a new forest. Now I have two to escape from.

The woods had changed as they'd walked that day, and the change was so abrupt and so drastic, she felt almost as though they had crossed some sort of border. The flat carpet of moss had shifted from dark green and orange to a lively green, and it shared its territory with thick clover and grass, all constantly covered in dew. It was softer beneath her feet than any rug she'd walked on, maybe softer even than her bed. Flowers brought color to the greenery, speckled throughout the forest's flooring, and the leaves of the trees, which were of every kind.

Before, the trees had all been of one species, those tall brown ones. Now, she saw pines, weeping willows, eucalyptus, and cherry trees all growing together; beside them were white dogwoods and flowering plums, purple jacarandas, and crepe myrtles. There were trees with dark bark, trees with pale bark, and trees with red bark. Some of them grew the needles of evergreens, others leaves of varying shades of green, yellow, and red. Some seemed to wear only crowns of flowers, of white and pink, blue and purple. And weaving throughout them all was a fine, soft mist. It reflected the sunlight to cast rainbows everywhere: on the trees, the clusters of flowers and ferns; against Sarana's wings, and on Sada's skin.

As they walked, following tendrils of mist that sometimes wrapped gently around her wrist and tugged her or poked her lightly in the side, they came across many a spring. They were small enough to hop over, and didn't disturb their journey, but they were frequent enough that she and Sarana could stop to drink whenever they wished. The water was cool and sweet, just as the air was. The whole forest smelled of life and growing things, and of flowers and nectar.

There was also fruit. There had been bushels of berries in the forest of orange and red, but here it seemed that almost every other tree bore colorful berries or apples. She saw many trees bearing wild plums, apples, and pears, and peaches with skin shimmering like a Pixie's wings. The undergrowth was scarce, but growing in the spacious gaps between the tree trunks were bushes of elderberries, pink cherries, and small, translucent berries that whispered a melody when she drew close. Wrapped around the big humps of roots were silver, thornless vines. Upon Sada's first few investigations, they appeared to bear no fruit. Then one night as she searched for a hollow to rest in, she'd laid down to sleep beside one such plant. Growing on its vines were ripe, pale grapes glowing faintly.

An hour or two after their break for water, Lady Blue had disappeared into the thick clumps of shadows decorating the forest. Sada hadn't seen her for quite some time, but she hardly noticed. All she could think of as of late were stories of her mother, for some reason. Not the ones of her people in the north, but of the Duchess herself. Governess Brown had said the Duchess Solares had pale skin like the original settlers, now so rare in the east. It was told that her hair was light as sand, and her eyes were blue like the Duke's. But where his were dark, hers were the light to match them. Or combat them.

Now, as if on cue, the filly's bright blue muzzle poked out from around a tree.

Blue, everything is blue! Sada thought. She smiled with cracked lips, giggling somewhat deliriously to herself. It had been far too long since she'd eaten, and water was not scarce but she found that she often forgot to drink it, or simply did not want to stop walking to do so. As had happened earlier that morning, she did not want to get up to continue walking if she did. When she did stop at puddles and streams, she could not drink too much of it at once or her stomach would be twisted in cramps for the next hour.