And The Forest Whispers

15

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Nezumi asked. He crouched beside Shion on the ground. The sun had long since set, a blur of pink splashing across the sky and breaking apart the dark indigo. Diamond stars peppered the expanse, the moon nowhere in sight.

          A perfect night for magic, the Elder had said as he positioned himself on a strange wooden board to be carted down to the bonfire. He'd gone down well before Nezumi brought Shion to the ritual to prepare for the ritual.

          "Yes," Shion said, nodding once. A heavy green cloak hung around his shoulders. During the afternoon, the blond witch, Tana, that Nezumi had assisted delivered it to Nezumi's cabin.

          For your ritual, she'd said, giving Shion a welcoming smile that made his heart melt. Even though he hadn't begun his rituals, the witches in the Mao village were eager to welcome him. He'd received plenty of smiles and nods as Nezumi guided him down to the bonfire, a large heap of split logs that loomed as Shion approached.

          Shion tried hard to ignore the anxiety that gnawed at the edge of his stomach. He hadn't slept well last night. After Nezumi arrived to bring him back to their shared cabin—Nezumi had moved Shion into his cabin without asking, but Shion wasn't complaining—they'd walked together in silence. Shion's fingers trembled.

          And then, halfway to the cabin, Nezumi's hand crept out and took hold of Shion's. You look cold, he'd said, and when Shion glanced over at him, it was too dark to see the splash of color on his face.

          Thank you, Shion had replied, squeezing Nezumi's hand back.

          Nezumi hadn't left him throughout the evening. He'd lingered at Shion's side, fussing about like a mother hen. Shion found it endearing.

          But sitting in front of the unlit bonfire now, Shion felt nothing but anxiety twisting through him. His gaze flickered over to the Elder, sitting on the ground on the opposite side of the bonfire. Surrounding him, several men and women dressed in dark, fur-lined cloaks hovered in a semi-circle around the circle, chatting amongst themselves. A woman with short hair laughed at something a man looming beside her whispered.

          A tall man with long, glossy black hair scowled at the Elder's side. The Elder, for his part, looked calm, a mug of something hot and herbal in his hand. Shion could smell it from the place where he sat, the cloak protecting him from the cold snow spread out beneath him.

          Nezumi sat beside Shion, his shoulder brushing against Shion's. The Elder had informed Shion that he would participate in the ritual alone, but he hadn't mentioned anything about Nezumi not being allowed to stay at his side. Shion was grateful for his presence. Though he would endure whatever the ritual entailed on his own, knowing that Nezumi was sitting beside him and would continue to do so throughout the process quelled some of the nerves.

          "Whatever happens," Nezumi murmured, and Shion's skin prickled at the feeling of his warm breath against his cheek. "Just remember that I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

          Shion nodded. Sweat dripped down his temples despite the winter chill. His eyes flickered to the Elder as he handed his mug to the man looming at his side. He cracked his fingers, and as he lifted his palms into the air, the assembly of men and women surrounding the site of the bonfire went silent.

          "Welcome, my friends," he announced, the cool winter wind carrying his voice high above them. "We gather today to observe the arrival of a new witch." He tipped his head toward Shion, whose shoulders shot to his ears. "There have always been those who are born with natural ties to magic. Beyond the walls of our village, those who internalize this magic are scorned, feared, and, oftentimes, slaughtered for embracing their truth."