And The Forest Whispers

11

Shion's ears rang as he drifted back into the world. The gray stars at the corner of his sight disappeared, giving way to the beautiful wooden slats stretched across the ceiling. The soft purple glow of the flower charm―Shion's flower charm, taken from his cabin by Nezumi's hands―glittered against the walls. He'd pulled most of the warmth and strength from it in his sleep, and the glow was dim and weak.

          Shion nestled into the comfort of the mattress. He'd been curled beneath the heavy coverlet for far longer than he would have liked, drifting in and out of consciousness above a wave of exhaustion and illness. The strength from the flower charms had worked the worst of the toxins out of his system, leaving nothing but a weak sensation of pain in the tips of Shion's fingers and toes.

          He squinted in pain as he eased himself into an upright position. The muscles in his spine ached. He felt as if he were still waking up, moving through a vast ocean made of syrup. The throbbing at the back of his head faded as he pulled himself from the bed, but something was off. He'd never lost this much time before. He'd slept far longer than he'd intended, but he'd never unconscious for days.

          Despite the memories of the events that led him to spend days laid up in bed, Shion felt weightless and warm. Peace swept over him, the first real sense of calm he'd felt since that fateful night when Nezumi had stumbled into his cabin, blood spilling from the slice in his shoulder.

          He couldn't tell what time of day it was. For all he knew, it could have been the middle of the night, the moon rising high above his head and spreading a soft silver glow across the snow. The room he slept in had no windows, but Shion didn't feel concerned by their lack of presence.

          Shion swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. His bare toes brushed the wooden floor, warm and comfortable and kept well-maintained by the magic that'd radiated from the drained charm. Shion sighed sleepily and pushed himself off the bed, the fabric rustling beneath him as the coverlet fell away from him.

          It was only now that Shion realized he wasn't wearing the same tunic and slacks he'd been wearing when he went to church the day he'd been poisoned. He'd been dressed in a comfortable, loose white tunic and a pair of slacks that clung to his hips without the assistance of a belt. The tunic was just a bit too long for him, the hem brushing the tops of his thighs and hanging around his collar bone.

          Shion crossed the room and shouldered the door open. He peered out into the cabin.

          Like the room he'd been sleeping within, the rest of the cabin was crafted of strong wooden slabs and completely without windows. There was only a single room beyond, a step down from the bedroom.

          Unlike the room Shion had been sleeping in, however, the room beyond was heavily decorated with crystals and dishes crafted of polished wood and stone. Charms hung from the walls in a rainbow assortment of colors, crafted of flowers Shion had never seen before and jagged crystal shards held together by firm thread. Radiant scents tickled Shion's nose as he stepped out of the room and into the den of magic.

          Tendrils of magic brushed against his skin, lulling him into a sense of security while he wandered through the room to admire the charms. A little fire pit sat in the far corner, surrounded by two plush chairs draped with pretty blankets woven from soft fabric. Dying embers flickered in the pit, a clear sign that someone had been there not too long ago. Shion could feel the lingering echo of another person inside the cabin---they'd disappeared some time ago, leaving Shion alone in the cabin as a clear sign that they trusted him not to harm them when they eventually wandered back home. Or as a challenge.