The Sky Belongs to Her

The Mountain , The Town and the Forrests

I let out an ecstatic scream, finally touching the cold cliff-side air once more. Born and raised as a "proper lady" meant to tend only my brother is quite a disturbing notion. The sky is where I should belong. The wind shifted, a wave of black strands smacked my eye, completely knocking the living daylights out of me. I would say it knocked the "wind" out of me if I were not for the fact that I was alone, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. Slowly, I shifted to face the breeze's currents and my hair rode along the air.  I could feel the frigid wind, brushing past my face, it reminded me of a hand caressing and cupping my cheeks. I could see the town directly underneath me, the protruding cliff hung over the town which shrouded the town in darkness everyday at noon. The villa in which I lived in rests only slightly below the tip of the mountain, I honestly couldn't call it our  villa.                                                                                         

The scenery was splendid, I admired the view while traversing down the slope , my dress was practically touching the ground. Though I would usually be scolded, I was alone so I tied my dress into a rope-like knot so it hung close to knees, it was similar in length of the Forrest-men's kilts. I could see the village, the shade finally approaching closer while the cold wind was scattering. No longer could I see the beautiful flowers of the mountain, now I saw the great oaks of the forest they all seemed to bow down and move aside from me, bending to me. It gave me a smile, even the thought of dominance over another is quite alluring. My fantasies are quite odd. A border of the sun's view and the forest's carpet of shadows stood in front of me, I was reluctant to take a step, but I enjoyed the sun more than I did the shade. I could see the town lying farther down the path. Everything about the town is tempting me: its bustling carts drew me in, the flower's ahead tempted me, and my hungry stomach made the prospect of town further more enticing.

The path was cool. Shade stretched along this section of the path and stopped at the entrance of the village. I somehow felt safer stepping out of the shade... No matter. I was supposed to be at the inn at exactly noon. I am many things, and being punctual is one of them.  Suddenly, a large hand gripped me on the shoulder, causing me to jolt in panic.

"Miss Leonard , how's the lord doing?" I exhaled, relaxing. It was the town bard Jonathan , his demeanor was unusual in comparison to his often jocular tone of voice.

"He is well, good day?"

"No madam , I've had little business down at the inn. The travelers prefer staying inside their caravans." He had a look of worry, and I felt pity for him yet I couldn't help him. I'm powerless.

"I can only give you my best regards." I couldn't bring myself to look him in his eyes , his sorrowful blue eyes stabbed me.

He grunted, his eyes avoiding me. Come on, don't blame me... "I give you my warm regards as well." His mockery wounded me, resent clearly present . Resent directed towards me.

My life had to pummel the idea into me, to constantly remind myself of the fact that I am but a higher class of servants, unable to truly do anything of relevancy. The young bard brushed past me, his eyes still avoiding me.

"Sorry madam." The grim expression did not quite fit the charming joker's face. It was like a joke, told many times over and losing its giggles and laughter to follow.

My adventurous mood was in pieces , I felt like running back to my cliff and curling up to feel the wind's cool touch. Yet, I had to keep my word. For what reason the Forrest Men would ask for a servant is beyond my understanding, although it was an extraordinary privilege to even speak to the Forrest Men. I should consider myself lucky. If I really am lucky I might even be recruited by them.

The inn was filled with the sound of clanging mugs, a familiar sound to all ears belonging to the town. The Forrest Men (or a Forresti) rarely return to town. If only briefly, the return of a Forresti was notable for celebration! Excitement, anticipation, hype and exhilaration. Who could have possibly returned this time? Just as I was about to push open the doors and find out for myself, the doors suddenly swung open - a hairy arm reached for my neck. I was being dragged across the inn . Most of the villagers were here except the ones currently working. Although the grip around my neck was firm, I could not sense any malice from my kidnapper. This hairy arm...the kilt and this torn-up plaid leather armor... it was a Forresti! 

The Forresti held me against his chest , swaying from side to side. Oh, a dance! The inn was filled with notes and echoes of the lutes and violins. Men and women were circling around the hall, most eyes were drawn to the Forresti rather than their own partners. The fire illuminated him so there was an orange-tint to his skin. The air around us felt lighter, as a Forrest-like atmosphere filled the hall. Lovely. Somewhere in the crowd of people, a high-pitched voice shouted, "dance!" to the Forresti.

"Salutations, madam," a familiar voice greeted me. I was close to identifying the voice until its owner yanked me over. My back rested in his arm, the man's grey eyes locked with mine.

"Quite the abrupt welcoming for me."

"Quite." His accent, unmistakably from the Riverside Regions. His voice was deep but soothing, along with his sophisticated accent. It fit well with his Forresti title. I was starting to recall again. With another sudden jerk, I was plopped back up, beginning to sway to the music once more.

"What brought you back to the town? Forrest life is not a bore, is it?"

"Of course not. I've come back to revisit my past, simply put."

With a sudden twist of his arm, he held me by the stomach with my back against his plaid shirt. His nose was close to my head, I was flustered. He can dance with some real flair!

"You smell lovely, like the flowers of winter"

"Have we met prior?"

"I-" The man looked away , a frown flashing on his face for a mere second. "I reckon it be when I was on patrol, madam."

It felt like it meant more, as if we weren't just passerby acquaintances.

"Perhaps somewhere on the mountains," he smiled through his beard, his words sounded like of concern it had an anxious tone. Do I look unhappy?

Once the music stopped, the man let go of me while staring down at me. Those unique eyes, who is he? My eyes scanned him, analyzing every inch of his face in hopes that I would understand this nostalgic feeling he brought upon me. Those metallic-grey eyes , they remind me of-

"Are you fairing well, madame?" The Forresti abruptly spoke, breaking my chain of thoughts. Damn the divines!

After a long moment of silence, his palm slowly grasped mine, lightly prying open each finger. I felt a cold object touch my hand as he pulled away, releasing me and walking away. The soothing pine-smell from him disappeared and the smell of wine quickly overpowered my nose.

Who was he?