The Untold Forest

by Elisa Menz

  The smile on her face grew wider. Grateful for the Tree’s kindness and love, Maeve realized that she—insignificant as she might be—could return the same sentiment to the Tree.

  That was the energy she wanted to send its way, so she shaped it in her mind.

  Her palms glowed, and the tingling intensified. The sapling shivered, and little by little, it grew taller, branches reaching high. After doubling Maeve’s height, its branches bent over, reaching back and loosely wrapping around her.

  “Are you watching this?” Finn’s eyes were about to pop, while Ystävä’s jaw hung unceremoniously. Regn struggled between running to her side and marveling at the sight.

  The branches grew thick, and Maeve was now sitting in one of them, pressing her palms against the bark. The new tree swayed her while growing steadily, and when it finally reached its full height, it filled with luscious green leaves.

  The glade went silent since everyone was too amazed to speak. Maeve beamed at them, comfortably perched on the branch. “How did I do?”

  Ystävä was the first one to react. “Well, you are as talented as your brother, but your type of magic is completely different.” He approached her. “I’ve never heard or witnessed this kind of reaction. It was like the Tree was trying to hug you, to be honest.”

  Maeve pressed her forehead and palms against the bark once more. She closed her eyes, filled with gratitude. It was a wonderful experience. Under her touch, the new branches trembled before sprouting hundreds of golden flowers. Both Warlocks gasped, taken aback.

  “Is that even possible?” Finn ran to his master.

  “No... I mean, I guess, but...” Ystävä was dumbfounded. “The Tree has never sprouted flowers before.”

  They were delicate and fragrant. Unique. Maeve marveled at their beauty, and she turned to Ystävä. “What does this mean?”

  “The only thing I can tell you, little one is that you are beyond special.” Was she? Maybe Ystävä was exaggerating. Maeve thought she knew herself. A strong-headed and hardworking girl, but nothing truly remarkable. People liked her, and she was proud of the life she had led. A simple life.

  What could be so extraordinary about her?

  She couldn't believe it.

  But then she raised her eyes, looking a bit farther, and the thought of being someone special felt less outlandish. Because Hakken was standing on a root, and the marveled look in his eyes made her feel like the most wonderful person in the world.

  CHAPTER XXV

  LOVE AND WAR

  Flyg

  She was frazzled. Her legs throbbed after an entire day of hunting and preparing meals for the warriors, and the muscles in her arms ached by the effort of carrying so much food deep into the mountain.

  The young boys in the village—those too weak to fight—and a handful of elders worked in the forges, crafting knives and swords to be used in battle; all of them on the brink of passing out of exhaustion.

  But their chieftain commanded them to work day and night to prepare for the upcoming war.

  She couldn't believe they were at war once again—her memories of the last one blurred. So many years had passed, and she was but a child when she lost her parents in the first war.

  Flyg never understood why they were supposed to fight, and all the death and despair the carnage brought felt futile. They had gained nothing. Their people were slaughtered, shunned by their kind in the aftermath.

  Eleven years later, the younglings who survived healed the wounds from the past. They build a community once more. They were on their own, no other half-breed tribe had dealings with them, and they couldn’t blame them. After all, their parents had started a war out of nowhere.

  She at least didn’t recall any meaningful reason.

  Chief Dröm was a young man at the time, and when the last chief—his father—died in battle, he led his people to the best of his ability, fleeing to the mountains and thus ending the bloodshed.

  He was the kindest man she knew. She grew up admiring him, how hardworking he was, how selfless and caring. Dröm protected and cherished every orphan in the village when he himself had lost his father.

  The years shaped him into a wonderful leader, and he gained his people’s loyalty and trust. Somehow, through those years, Flyg’s admiration had turned into love.

  “Flyg! Stop daydreaming and take these to the warriors. We have enough work as it is!” The scrawny woman handed her a basket full of roasted chunks of meat, shoving her towards the passage in the cave. She wanted to be upset about her rudeness, but as she regarded her stagger back to the bonfires, Flyg realized the woman was just tired.

  Her once the peaceful community was breaking apart.

  When chief Dröm had announced they were going to take their revenge on the river and valley tribes, no one could believe their ears.

  Some dissent pushed back against their leader’s decision, but one by one, each warrior that climbed down the cave to the training halls, stopped protesting. They became numb, angry, violent; strangers to their own families.

  Flyg realized—like so many others—something was not right. But speaking with Dröm had become impossible. He was always training and stopped all contact with anyone but his warriors.

  She witnessed him doing unthinkable things, killing huge, ferocious creatures with his bare hands, healing fast from awful wounds.

  And the red dust.

  The dust terrified her; it terrified everyone. But Dröm had stated it was a gift from the gods and a sign of their forthcoming victory.

  “That is no gift,” she whispered to the darkness while walking down the narrow corridor. The awful stench attacked her nostrils as soon as she came close enough to the training halls, and the never-ending ruckus echoed through the caves.

  The men were fighting. What stupid and unnecessary training. They were already strong, but it was like they needed to break and hurt. Most young men were fitting, but a few others had not resisted the punishing training. When the first man died, Dröm didn’t bat an eye.

  The warriors approached her and took the meat while she walked among them in silence. They were always famished these days, and she was worrying about hunting too much. Game in the mountains was never abundant, but it was harder to catch enough prey for everyone these days. Everyone else ate roots and scraps of meat.

  She hid the last couple of pieces, hoping to find Dröm and at least have the chance to go near him. Her friend Leende blocked her path before she could go any farther.

  “Meat,” he grunted, making Flyg scowl.

  “Go away. I’ve run out.” Leende was an attractive man, and Flyg liked him because he was an easy-going guy. He had a birthmark on his chin, shaped like a water drop, so he always said he must have been a water djinn in a past life. Flyg never failed to reply; he resembled a swamp toad more.

  But her friend was no longer the same after starting training with Dröm. His eyes showed no recognition, and his smile was gone. “You have meat,” he sniffed the air over her basket. “Hand it now.” He was aggressive too.

  Flyg sighed. “This is for Dröm. You don’t want to take the food from our chief, do you?”

  Something shifted in his eyes, and he reluctantly backed away.

  “Do you know where I can find him?” Some warriors still answered simple questions, so she tried her luck. When Leende pointed to the back of the hall, she ran away, leaving him behind.

  While the great hall bustled with activity, smaller caves remained empty in the walls; dark, damp, and silent.

  There was no one in sight, and she ducked under sharp rocks to go deeper into the gloom. The yelling became a distant murmur and Flyg strained her ears, hearing someone whispering in the dark.

  In a small cavern engulfed in darkness, Dröm sat on the ground, his face buried in his hands while slight tremors made him quiver. Dirt and scars covered his broad back.

  Flyg froze.

  She couldn’t tell if Dröm had sensed her, but she dared not move. Why was hi
s leader looking so pained? The wonderful man Dröm once was, had been reduced to a quivering mess. What was happening to him?

  He let out an agonizing whimper, and the painful sound was more than she could withstand. She placed down the basket and kneeled in front of him, reaching hesitantly for his hands. “Chief...? What is wrong? Are you hurt?” Dröm didn’t acknowledge her presence, buried deep in his pain.

  “D-Dröm...?” Her fingertips brushed lightly on his arm, and this seemed to shake him. His eyes were red and tearful, and his terrified gaze caused Flyg to gasp.

  “Flyg...” His hoarse voice stuttered as he frantically searched for her face. “So dark... why...? Where am I?”

  She was certain now something dangerous happened to her people. She had never seen Dröm so distraught, and Flyg rubbed his arms, trying to soothe his dread.

  “Please tell me what is wrong, Dröm. I want to help you.”

  “Hurt... it hurts everywhere.” He sank his fingers on his tangled hair. “My head feels about to burst.”

  The tremors intensified, and Flyg feared for his sanity. Tears rolled down his face and broke her heart.

  “Please... wait here! I’ll bring the healer, and she will make you feel better.” She tried to stand, but Dröm’s strong arms surrounded her in a tight hug. He pleaded in panic. “Don’t leave me, Flyg, don’t leave me! I can’t stand the darkness anymore!”

  He buried his face in her neck, taking deep, calming breaths. Despite her fears, Flyg relished this moment. She had dreamt about his arms around her, and there, sitting on his lap, she snuggled closer to him and gently stroked his back with soft hands.

  Dröm let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, kid. It’s nice to have you around.”

  Kid. Damn it! Did he think of her as a child? She pulled away from him, enough to glare at his face. The tears still reddened his eyes, but he no longer appeared as tormented as before.

  She frowned. “You don’t realize, do you?”

  “What...? What do you mean ki—”

  “Oh, don’t you dare!” She cut him short and slammed her lips into his, tangling her arms around his neck. A clumsy and rushed kiss, but it was all she managed with such short notice. If she was going to make a fool out of herself, she would at least make an amazing memory out of it.

  His lips were warm and rough, and not even the taste of blood would convince her this was not exactly as wonderful as she had imagined it. Her original fierceness was slowly turning into a deep, loving kiss, and when Dröm’s hands caressed her back, Flyg melted in his arms.

  The sudden heat on her cheeks made her panic and Flyg resisted breaking the kiss to avoid his gaze. But breathing was becoming necessary. They broke apart, both gasping for air. He gazed at her with wonder and smiled with mischief. “Well, Flyg—”

  “Oh shut up, shut up, shut up!” The whole situation was now extremely embarrassing, and she hid her blushing cheeks behind her hands, bowing her head. Dröm chuckled before lifting her chin and resting his forehead on hers. “Don’t hide from me. Not after you let me taste you.”

  Her heart fluttered when he once again wrapped his arms around her, leaving soft kisses on her lips. She would look after him. Now that he finally listened, she would be able to make him understand this war was pointless; they didn’t need to fight and die. She would work hard by his side to ensure their tribe flourished.

  His embrace was tight and warm, but then Flyg sensed a slight tremor shaking his arms. Her eyes snapped open, and in the dim light of the cave, she watched the delicate strands of red dust creeping over Dröm’s body into her own.

  She tried to shake him, but Dröm was petrified. His hug turned into a painful grip. “Dröm! Please stop. You are hurting me!” His face remained hidden, and she struggled when the red dust crawled past her neck. “Dröm! Help me, please!”

  She thrashed and screamed, but Dröm only clutched her tighter. She could see his face now, an emotionless mask, crushing the life out of her. Before the tears clouded her eyes, darkness and silence came.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  TO FRIENDS, OLD AND NEW

  Regn

  “This is remarkable!” The solemn Ystävä vanished; he now twiddled with the hem of his cape, as excited as Finn. Both the snarky human and the grumpy elf had been buzzing around Maeve for a while, studying her newfound magical powers and trying to comprehend why the Tree had reacted the way it did.

  Regn barely understood a word, and the elf wouldn’t stop talking. “Your magic seems to be as intuitive as your brother’s, but it’s much more emotional.”

  “What do you mean, what kind of magic does Finn have?” Maeve looked beautiful. She had always been beautiful, but after whatever exchange she had with the Tree, she was glowing.

  Hakken noticed it too. Kniv joined the Warlocks, but Hakken kept his distance while staring at her like a lovesick fool.

  Regn frowned. So what if you brought her to the Forest? That doesn’t mean Maeve is yours. His angry thoughts took him by surprise, but he didn’t shy from them.

  Perhaps Hakken took care of Maeve, but he had saved her life at least twice! Way more impressive. Right? And they were friends now. Just that morning, he had explained he no longer wanted to kill her, so, yeah! They were definitely friends!

  Regn grumbled while listening to the elf explaining how the skinny human guy had a talent for discovering hidden meanings and revolutionary interpretations of ancient textbooks and lore. His magic intensified and materialized his natural talent.

  “Your brother has a knack for knowledge. His intuition allows him to see things trivial to others, and thanks to it, he can develop new theories. After years of training, he was able to conceive a new method to combine different magical archetypes to help establish unique spells.” The elf kept babbling until Regn’s head began to spin.

  “You better stop Ystävä, you are going to confuse everyone, and you are making me blush.” Maeve’s brother seemed like a nice guy. Clever and annoying, but nice.

  “So... you are saying little Maeve can perform spells?” Kniv was intrigued.

  “Not yet, no. She should study and train for years. Besides, as I mentioned before, her magic is different.”

  “Let me show you.” Finn took his sister’s hands. “What do you sense when you touch someone?”

  Maeve let out a sigh, concentrating. After a few seconds, her face lit up with a radiant smile, and Regn couldn’t help but fluster at the myriad of inappropriate thoughts that crossed his mind.

  “I guess... these feelings... those are yours, right?” She asked hesitantly. “I experience what goes through your heart. It’s very clear, but I can tell these are not my emotions.”

  “Tell me.” Finn encouraged her.

  “I... you are happy here. You love what you do. You are so excited about everything you learn and everyone you meet. And you hate housework.” Both siblings chuckled at this. “You see me, and you are elated, but... my presence brought you pain as well. Mother and father...”

  After a fleeting pause, Finn smiled before kissing his sister’s knuckles. His eyes turned watery, but he nodded to Maeve to continue. “You adore Ystävä. You admire him so much, and...” Another smile. Regn would surely die. “You... you are a little worried about burning something.”

  “Oh shit, the oven! I’ll be right back.” Finn let go of her and sprinted towards the cabin, making Ystävä roll his eyes.

  “By the Ancients... that boy.” He stood in front of Maeve once more. “Let us try something else. Now, I want you to try to alter my emotions instead of sensing them.”

  Is this possible? Nevermind. If Maeve touches me, she will know how I feel? Regn gaped in mild horror when Maeve touched Ystävä’s cheek, and after a few seconds, the elf laughed uncontrollably.

  “How did you do that?” Kniv asked, looking more and more impressed by the second.

  “I’m not sure. I remembered a stupid thing Finn once did and how funny it was, and like with the Tree, I tried to share the em
otion through my hand.” The elf regained his composure after a few more giggles. “I think that covers the basics of your powers. Your magic manifests as the ability to sense and transmit emotions. You should be careful, though.”

  “Why?”

  “If you don’t master it, every time you touch someone, you will learn their dark little secrets. Sometimes, emotions are more treacherous than thoughts.” The elf gave her a meaningful look. “You don’t want that, trust me.”

  He turned to the others. “Right! I’m famished. We should all rest for now. I brought those fruit pies for you, Maeve, but your brother is a bottomless pit of gluttony.”

  While walking back to the cabin, Regn struggled between his eagerness to be closer to Maeve and the fear of her discovering his feelings.

  Hakken

  He secured his bundle while Maeve enveloped her brother in a hug. Clearly, they weren’t ready to be apart so soon, but after a great deal of investigating and arguing, neither Finn nor Ystävä could tell for certain what this red dust was. They needed to leave and find a way to put their hands on that dust so the Warlocks could analyze it.

  Maeve chose to go with them, and he couldn’t be happier. After the amazing discovery she had made about her magical powers the day before, Hakken kept a close eye on her and realized she was somehow different.

  She held an air of confidence and serenity. He wasn’t sure how her magic worked, but everyone gravitated around Maeve now, basking in the pleasing aura flowing from her.

  “We will see each other soon, so no crying, little mushroom.”

  Hakken smiled at this, seeing that Finn was about to burst into tears himself. Maeve smiled warmly at her brother and moved to tell her goodbyes to the elf who offered her a hand.

  “Don’t be silly. You are family now.” She threw her arms around his waist, eliciting a rare smile from him. Hakken heard her whisper. “He loves you, you know. You have nothing to worry about.” The elf flushed, and his eyes softened a little.