And The Forest Whispers

12

Shion sighed as gentle ruffles of cold wind whipped through his hair. He blinked into the morning light, his eyes still sensitive from days spent in complete darkness. He looked around the forest with wide eyes, taking in the sight of the little town that spread out around him.

          Beautiful huts crafted of strong, dark wood squatted in haphazard rows along a makeshift dirt road. Tiny shacks and boots were draped in vibrant fabric, shielding them from the worst of the bright sunlight. It barely felt like winter at all as Shion shuffled along beside Nezumi, the ends of his cloak dragging along the snow. Nezumi had snagged it from the Elder's cabin, informing Shion that it would be far warmer than the flimsy robe he'd taken off the hook.

          There weren't many folks on the street, but Shion could hear them indoors, chatting to one another and laughing at jokes only a handful of them understood. Shion turned and admired the structures, the stream of smoke rising from one where he suspected a strong fire raged in a stone hearth. The scents of pastries and fresh meat wafted through the streets like an expensive perfume, and Shion breathed them in as deeply as he could.

          A vibrant red bird perched on a tree branch, staring down at Shion with beady blue eyes. A large white spot bloomed on its chest, which puffed out as it realized Shion was watching it. It trilled and flapped its tiny wings before soaring into the dark forest looming behind it―an area Shion hadn't ventured, so thick and dark that he wondered how anyone could see through it at all. Though the sun rose high above it, no light penetrated the thick copse of trees, and Shion felt a sudden sense of dread lance through his stomach.

          Nezumi stepped beside him, seemingly indifferent to the imposing forest looming at his side. "It's not too far now," he said, drifting his hand through the air. His heavy black cloak fluttered in the faint breeze, but he kept his hood down even though a faint bit of color tinted his nose and cheeks.

          "Where are we going?" Shion inquired.

          "My cabin."

          Shion's shoulders tightened at the prospect of it. He shouldn't have been as embarrassed as he was. Nezumi had seen his cabin―had fallen asleep in his bed, arm thrown across Shion's chest and hips pinned to the mattress beneath his own. It shouldn't have felt as intimate as it did, heading to see the place that Nezumi called home. Even so, Shion couldn't fight the shivers that bolted through his stomach as he thought about what kind of cabin Nezumi lived in, what furniture would be there and what stories he could tell from its presence.

          Shion's shoes crunched across the snow and gravel. Beneath the layer of white, he could see sharp stones and little bits of crystal he thought might have been scattered about on purpose. He couldn't feel magic radiating from them, but that didn't mean much. Perhaps the charms had been used once before, and after their magic wore away, they'd been left to supply ambiance.

          He trotted to keep up with Nezumi. His legs were a bit longer, and Shion huffed a little with exertion as he pushed himself to keep up with his pace. Nezumi, for his part, slowed down just a bit when he noticed Shion struggling. He made a face, as if he were a bit annoyed, but if he was, he kept silent about it.

          "It's so beautiful," Shion said, admiring the village. The buildings were huddled together in a close, intimate way, a community rather than the uniform rows Kronos seemed to think were appropriate. Warmth radiated from each cabin, not just in the magical sense, but in a metaphoric way. Shion could sense the happiness surging from the folks who called this place home.

          "Not what you were expecting, I take it?" Nezumi asked.

          "Not at all. I've only―" Shion pursed his lips, suddenly embarrassed.