And The Forest Whispers

3

The sun had risen to the middle of the sky by the time Shion returned to his cabin.

          Dirt sat beneath his nails, a testament to the success of his harvest. His chest buzzed with a mixture of warmth and excitement as he thought about the bounty of charms he could weave with the flowers and moss he'd gathered.

          The world around him bled with bright greens and pale browns as Shion stepped into the protective comfort of his garden and closed the tiny gate behind him. He didn't bother to latch it; it didn't matter. He never worried about intruders; his charms warded off greedy fingers and mouths, and the rumors about his witchcraft kept the villagers of Kronos away.

          Shion swept into his cabin and clicked the heavy door shut behind him. It was like striding into a new world—the air beyond the security of his cabin was crisp and cool with the approach of winter, but in the charm-infused comfort of Shion's home, the scents of spring lingered eternally. He smiled up at the little bees that flitted away from the delicate blossoms and into their hive.

          He removed his cloak and hung it from the small hook on the back of his door. Shion clapped his hands together, eager to get started on his charms.

          When winter came, the world beyond would be blanketed in thick snow, and Shion would have to keep his windows blocked with massive curtains. The several villagers brave enough to venture outside in the frigid cold were a risk to his way of life; if the wrong set of eyes happened to peer through his window and spot the spring flowers and warmth beyond, Shion's reputation as a witch would gain validity.

          He'd survived several winters in Kronos without getting caught. Even so, Shion knew better than to let his guard down. He'd been dragged to the church too many times to feel completely safe.

          A single slip-up could cost him his life.

          He took a calming breath. There would be plenty of time to worry about the other villagers and their possible punishments later. For now, he had a hefty amount of work ahead of him.

          Shion set to work weaving the flower stalks and moss into charms to keep the warmth within his home. His fingers worked swiftly, shaping the smooth, delicate stalks into loops that interlocked. The tiny buds added splashes of color—blues and dark purples and whites—among the sea of green and brown, and the soft blossoms would add tiny snippets of spring warmth to the air within his cabin once he hung them on the walls and suspended them in the windows.

          It was easy work, in a sense, but time-consuming. Each charm held only a small amount of power. To warm his cabin for the duration of winter, without needing to light a fire for anything other than cooking, Shion would need to weave enough charms to completely decorate the walls of the cabin. The stray sunlight that hit the blossoms would react to the combination of natural elements, touched with hints of Shion's magic, and release their energy.

          For a couple of the charms, Shion would add an additional touch of magic to grant them luminescence. When the sun went down and the world plunged into darkness, a peppering of the blossoms would light up, lighting Shion's cabin up enough for him to see comfortably.

          The gentle lights made it easy enough to sleep. As if they sensed when Shion slept and relaxed, the lights would dim just enough to cast a pretty glow of whites and blues across the wooden furniture. He supposed it made sense—Shion's magic wove into the flowers, therefore connecting him to their light.

          The charms would survive through winter, and then Shion would have to let them go. The energy sources weren't eternal. Shion could only suspend the decaying process, but not halt it entirely. During the first days of spring, Shion gathered the weakened charms, brought them to the middle of the forest, and unwound them, whispering his thanks and releasing the magic as he did so. He chose not to drop the clumps in the middle of the forests still bound, worried that someone would find the charms and recognize them for what they were.