The Forest King

Chapter Two

  T W O

   It began to rain heavily, Grace's chin titled to the darkened sky as she soaks up every drop. Her smile wider than she thought possible, a pure bliss flowing through her. When she looks back, his jade eyes are watching in complete marvel at the woman standing before him. She smiles bashfully, twisting the small ring on her left thumb and she looks down. He takes a step forward, placing his fingers beneath her chin lifting her face to meet his. 

     "You know," Paul's words were softer now - closer, "you can't stay here forever." 

     Disappointment flooded Grace's chest nearly drowning her as she came to the understanding that he was right. They needed to get back to the car and head home soon. With the rain, no doubt the bonfire would be cancelled and surely they were parking some drunkard in with the vehicle. "Fine, but I'm not driving back in the rain," she conceded. 

     A sad smile came over him as Paul ever so carefully caressed her cheek with his thumb, "Grace, you need to wake up now. You need to come home." Confusion came first: they had come together, wouldn't they leave together as well? This wasn't a dream, the bonfire was real, and the walk into the woods was real, and the fall... the fall. 

      Grace woke with a start, Paul's whisper fresh in her mind repeating over and over that she needs to come home. First, she needs to figure out where she is. She pushes herself to sit upright, her neck stiff from a nights rest on an unfamiliar bed, the scent from last night knocking against her as she is reminded that she was brought here by a man. A man with blood red hair who striking resembles an Angel under the pale moonlight.  A man who came from the trees and scooped her up like it was nothing. If only he were here now to tell her what was going on and how to get home; back to her mother and back to Paul. A desire that's present even in her dreams. 

     There's a soft knock against the wood of the door before it pushes open slowly to reveal the unfamiliar head of a woman. Her long platinum hair pours down her shoulder. Grace is speechless at her natural beauty. Her high cheekbones and welcoming sapphire eyes scanned the room before meeting Grace's stare. 

     "Oh, good, you're awake!" Her voice was one of the most beautiful sounds Grace had ever heard, its emotional and lifting tone sent chills across her shoulders. She stood upright, stepping further into the room as she gaged Grace's reaction. "You must be starving. We have meal set and ready if you'd like to join. I can explain everything to you once you're settled in."

     Grace liked the prospect of getting information, hoping that someone, perhaps this woman, can tell her how to exactly to get home. Although wary, she simply nods standing to follow the graceful woman out and down a narrow flight of wooden stairs. She walked at a comfortable pace, seeming at ease with the world and every situation, her porcelain complexion more noticeable on her bare feet than her sculpted face. It was an odd thing, her delicate yet unearthed way of being as if she was sprout from the grounds at birth. In a way Grace enjoyed the sheer difference the woman possessed - even her voice was different and still bore no accent. Who thought it possible to not have an accent?

     They walked on, out of the tree-like home and into an almost meadow. Grace's eyes inspected every inch of the space lined by grand trees and a fully padded woods. Like jumping into a magical fairy landscape, everything seems still in perfection. A quietness ran deep through each blade of grass ensuring peace; a warming setup smack dab in the middle. A makeshift fire pit larger than the one at the bonfire the previous night enclosed by large half-trunks of differing trees. And just like that, Grace is reminded that by following this woman she will, in-turn, get answers of how she can get back to everything she fell from. They continued past and diagonal from the firepit until they reached an enormous treehouse with it's double doors wide open. Inside, there was a soft bustle of voices all unfamiliar to Grace.