A Forest of Secrets

Chapter 8

They'd been on the road a couple of weeks, close to a month, but she felt like they hadn't moved at all: every single tree looked the same, every rock, every piece of moss identical to the next. She spent most of the time walking silently with Alaric-- she was too tired to talk anymore-- while Gerard and Laurentius scouted ahead. Alaric would comment on something once in a while, distracting her from her swollen blistered feet. Laurentius had offered to heal her, but she didn't want magic near her body: she'd cope. 

The mage still hadn't earned her trust, as much as he tried to be friendly- she did laugh when he teased Alaric mercilessly, even if she tried not to. Laurentius thought making fun of his apparent clumsiness was hilarious, he often asked out loud "how did that man ever become an Onturian?." He would often thank the heavens for having Gerard as their guide, in a very theatrical way, raising his hands to the air, faking tears of joy. The mage liked to say they'd be doomed with Alaric in charge, they'd probably end up in the lair of a bear or a bog tiger. The idea of being eaten by a bog tiger was very unsettling, even hypothetically: she could feel those big yellow teeth the size of her head ripping through her flesh, just by hearing their name. She was also relieved to have Gerard in charge, what would they do without him? Die, that's what.  At least she could read maps and could-- albeit, not very well-- navigate using the position of the sun and the stars: if anything happened to Gerard, they'd die but at least they wouldn't get lost. Not much.

That night she woke up from a nightmare –she had a strange feeling in her chest, like she had forgotten something important. She didn't remember what the dream was about, she could only feel it. She didn't know how long she had been sleeping, and she didn't own one of those magical time-teller gizmos alchemists sold in the cities. She didn't even know how to read them anyways, never needed to. 

She popped her head out of the tent, saw the stars above, shining around the two moons in the sky: the biggest one was full and yellow, the little one was pinkish and missing a small round piece. She knew what that meant: the beginning of the cold weather season. She shivered just to think about it. Grandmother taught her how to count the phases of the moons, she said it was important to know. Alchemists and mages had more sophisticated ways to tell, but it all came back to the night sky. She wondered where Grandmother was now, how she was doing- she was fine, of course she was, that old woman was tough like a bear.

Gerard was sitting by the fire, moving the embers with the pommel of his sword. Alaric snored loudly under his makeshift tent, probably dreaming of a warm bed. She gingerly stepped out of her tent, trying not to make too much noise. Where was Laurentius? Probably perched on a tree, sleeping in bird form.

"Couldn't sleep, lady Jocasta?" Gerard noticed her without even turning around. 

"Please, do not, under any circumstance, call me lady again," she chuckled quietly. Alaric tossed and mumbled something in his sleep.

"Noted," he smiled warmly, then added a couple of branches to the fire. It lit up, brighter and warmer. She sat on a log, then placed her hands near the kindle, enjoying the warmth on her cold fingers. She realized she hadn't been alone with Gerard since... ever. She shifted on her log uncomfortably. Gerard looked at her with a bit of amusement and concern, like a father would "Are you cold, kid? The nights are getting worse, winter is around the corner."

"I'm a little cold, I didn't exactly have time to pack a heavy cape, but I think Grandmother must have packed something... I've looked inside out those stupid bottomless backpacks, no such luck yet. If there's something it's probably lost in all the junk," she looked at her bare feet.  I left my boots inside the tent, but the fire is warming me up enough," without a word, he lent her his cape. It was soft and heavy, warm. He looked like he wouldn't take it back, so she didn't even try. She thanked him, politely. Something about Gerard made her feel like home, he was warm and familiar, like a father-- or what she thought a father would be like. She didn't remember hers... her head started to hurt. She winced.