And The Forest Whispers

9

The trip into Kronos the following morning was cold and lonely. Shion huddled down into his cloak, reveling in the warmth it offered. The dry runes he'd traced into the fabric kept his body heat trapped within, even when the winds ruffled the cloak and threatened to tear it from his shoulders.

          Outside the barrier of warmth Shion had crafted for himself, the morning world was cold. Shion's boots punched through the snow, his legs submerging up to his knees. The snow clung to his trousers, clumping in the backs of his knees and accompanying him the mile and a half distance to the center of the village.

          Shion had no affinity for winter magic―he'd never attempted it, as the winds were too wild to contain with his paltry skills―but he managed to slice his way through the harsh gusts of wind and trudge his way toward the church.

          He'd set out just before sunrise, plunging into the darkness and locking the door to his cabin behind him. Some part of his soul considered leaving the door unlocked on the off-chance Nezumi happened by when he was out, but Shion immediately thought better of it. He locked the door and dropped his key into his pocket. If Nezumi did happen to stop by, Shion doubted he would let himself into a witch's house.

          Shion hadn't bothered with breakfast that morning. His stomach felt oddly empty, but the thought of putting food inside it made him nauseous. The church services would provide him with plenty of food to get to dinner time. The priest would give each of them a cup of wine―to signify the blood spilled in the name of the sacred ones―and cheese would be paired with it.

          The streets of Kronos were empty. Shion suspected they would be. In the snowy months, women stayed indoors unless the church compelled them outside. The hunters didn't go outside on a sacred day, and the villagers were either already arriving at the church or preparing to head over from the security and warmth of their cabins.

          The wind whipped through the quiet village, stoppered by the buildings lancing their way into its path. Shion kept his hood drawn up, the tip of his nose stinging from where the frost brushed it. If not for the warmth radiating from the dry wards in his clothing, Shion knew that snowflakes would pepper on his eyelashes, turning them from a deep brown to a gentle white. Sometimes Shion wondered what he would look like with white hair. He thought it might make him look older―but it would definitely prove to the villagers that he was a witch.

          They already suspected him even though his hair and eyes were the same dark brown as many of the other villagers'. How would they view him if his hair were to turn white?

          Shion saw the church rising in the center of the town. Unlike the rest of the village, the church was crafted entirely of stone. It was stronger than the cabins compiling Kronos, meant to withstand even the most devastating of storms. The heavy wooden door, etched with figures from the sacred scriptures, greeted him as he finally reached his destination.

          He pushed the door open―chuckling to himself as the 'wards' meant to keep away witches refused to shove him outside―and ducked inside.

          A steady rumble of noise penetrated the room. It rattled through Shion's bones, and he realized quickly that it was coming from the conglomerate of villagers gathered inside, perched in the wooden pews. A few of them glared at Shion as he walked inside, but thankfully he didn't seem to be a major source of attention this morning.

          The voices of the crowd rumbled as Shion picked out a spot to sit. He settled down on the edge of a pew close to the back. If he sat too close to the door, the villagers might think it suspicious. But if he sat too close to them, he'd spend the entire service being glared at and whispered about. Shion knew it would happen regardless of where he sat, but it was one thing to subject himself to it directly. He settled down, pulling his hood down and letting it settle around his shoulders.