The Untold Forest

by Elisa Menz

  He hastened away from her, and Maeve felt brave enough to peep. The sight of his magnificent naked body disappearing in the thick, leaving behind a trail of water, flustered her beyond reason.

  After she somehow dressed and ran back to the cabin, she slipped through the entrance, hoping to reach her room unnoticed. Unfortunately—leaning leisurely by her door—a wide-grinning Finn seemed to expect her. “My dearest sister. Bring your blushing, little bottom to the kitchen, and help me with lunch.”

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  GIFTS AND SURPRISES

  Regn

  The cheerful atmosphere in the kitchen did nothing to lift his spirits. Regn didn’t want to mull over it, but his mind betrayed him once more, and he spiraled down the self-pity hole. The thought kept him up the entire night and still had him engulfed in misery.

  Maeve wrapped in Hakken’s scent.

  The day before, he saw her return from her bath and immediately sensed the change. Brooding about what might have transpired between the two of them had his mood swinging from seething resentment to dreary hopelessness.

  But he kept reminding himself he was not angry at her. His heartache was not her doing, nor Hakken. Only he was to blame. Maeve has no idea how I feel. How will she choose between the two of us if I don’t show her what she means to me? The problem was plain as day, but the solution mortified him.

  I must tell her! He decided.

  His newfound determination faltered as soon as she walked into the kitchen, yawning and blinking away the remnants of sleep. She squinted at the bright room, and as soon as her blue eyes fell on him, she smiled. “Good morning, Regn.”

  It was an undeniable fact that her smile had the power to uplift him and confuse him beyond help. Regn racked his brains to find an ingenious or teasing retort. Perhaps mention how cute she looked that morning. But his mouth remained as dry as his wit.

  “Good morning, dear brother!” Maeve ran past him, waving her arms before hugging her brother.

  Finn wrapped an arm around her shoulders while balancing a bowl of food in his other hand, placing a loud kiss on her temple. “I’m so glad you joined us, little sister. Now, be a helpful mushroom and make some tea.”

  While Regn stood befuddled, Maeve bounced into the kitchen to pour boiling water over that tea they were so fond of. Ystävä came from the garden, carrying a basket brimming with fresh fruit.

  “Hello, Ystävä. How delicious!” She met him halfway, taking the basket from him and kissing his cheek.

  “One of the many perks of being the Warlock. You get presents from all over the Forest.” The elf turned to him. “Hakken left early this morning to hunt down something for you two to eat. I’m afraid we are not too keen on meat around here.”

  Of course, Hakken went out to hunt. Most likely, he would return with enough food to feed a small village. Bitter, Regn scanned the room, and the cheerful bustle felt foreign. He shuffled into a corner, wallowing in his misery. The day had just begun, and he couldn’t manage a simple greeting for Maeve. He didn’t catch her breakfast.

  Did anyone need him there?

  Would she care if he left?

  His appetite gone, leaving the cabin to sulk under a lonely tree sounded like the best course of action. Dejected, he went for the door when a light tap on his shoulder made him turn. Maeve stood right by his side, holding her clenched fist in front of him.

  “Regn, you need to try this.” Her smile shone as gentle as ever, and her cheerful gaze softened his mood. Did she intend to feed him? Did she care about him enough to want him to be part of something she enjoyed? A little ray of hope tugged his heart.

  Smiling, he leaned forward; his eyes fixed on her. Gods, she is so beautiful! The details of her face enthralled him. The freckles, the tiny scar on her jaw. The perfect wrinkles around her eyes when her smile widened, catching him off guard. She opened her hand and blew with force, sending the white powder straight to his face.

  Blinking his now powdered eyelashes, he sputtered the flour on his mouth while Maeve danced away, victorious.

  “Revenge is mine!” she cheered.

  The room filled with laughter, both Warlock’s and his own. Maeve didn’t stop celebrating while Regn cleaned his face with a damp cloth Ystävä handed him. Only then he walked to her and wrapped her in his arms. She hugged him back, chuckling. “Silly girl,” he said.

  “You are silly.”

  “I know.”

  The hug lasted a tad longer than necessary, but he was too happy to care. Even when the door opened once more, and Hakken arrived with his catch, giving him a spine-chilling murderous glare, he wouldn’t let go of her.

  Hakken

  Would things get awkward between Maeve and him if he killed Regn? The smug look on the boy’s face when he caught him clinging to Maeve was enough to make him snarl. Not wanting to upset her, Hakken feigned composure and let them be. Breakfast rewarded his patience since Maeve couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, and he relished in the sight of her blushing cheeks.

  A warm tingle crawled down his spine as the memories of the previous afternoon swarmed in his mind. It took every ounce of restraint for him to walk away from the pond, but he wanted their moment to be perfect.

  It didn’t mean he didn’t crave to touch her. They had slept apart the last few nights, and he missed her warm body in his arms.

  The Warlocks needed to continue their studies, and meanwhile, there wasn’t much for him to do. This might be the perfect time to take Maeve on a walk, away from everyone else. Only the two of them, resting under the sun, frolicking in the grass.

  He could finally kiss her.

  “You need to practice if you expect to help free them.” Ystävä’s voice snapped him into focus. The elf spoke to Maeve while biting the tip of his thumb and grimacing with concern. “So far, you are our only hope to free the mountain half-breeds and everyone else taken by this dust. So, until we find any other way to face this, you need to strengthen your abilities.”

  Maeve nodded. “Would you train me? Or Finn?”

  “No, I’m afraid neither of us is suitable to guide you, and we need to focus on our research. I would recommend you meet with the Tree once more and work with its energy,” the elf replied.

  “That is a fine idea,” Finn said. “The Tree has assisted you before, and it helped you unleash your power. I say you won’t find a better training partner.” Maeve followed Ystävä outside to begin her work. Hakken’s eager gaze trailed behind her. Damn luck! Discouraging turn of events, but necessary.

  So, what would he do all day? Perhaps Regn would be up for some brawling. To practice, of course. He’d love to knock some teeth out of him. “Perfect!” Finn stood in front of them, rubbing his hands and grinning like a madman. “Do any of you know what day is today?”

  Both Regn and he were at a loss.

  “Today, my dear fellows, is little Maeve’s birthday. And I don’t know about you, but I have the perfect gift for her.”

  Maeve

  There were no words to describe the gratifying feeling.

  The Tree had been a wonderful teacher. It taught her to discern a vast range of emotions, shielding her own not to be swept into the turmoil. Clearly, Maeve would have to work hard to master her new ability, but she focused on the primordial task. To channel her strength to lead forth one strong notion. Free will.

  After a frugal lunch Ystävä brought her, she carried on an entire afternoon, until the slow weight of exhaustion took over her mind and limbs. Maeve had never experienced this contentment before. She worked hard to achieve something only she could do, and all her efforts were appreciated. Thinking about what was at stake made her tense, but the confidence the others placed in her gave Maeve confidence. She felt trustworthy.

  When the sun hid behind the tree line, the roots dancing around her buried on the ground, not before showering her with fragrant flower petals as a goodbye. The delicate golden flowers she had helped sprout. Maeve took a deep breath, enjoying the refres
hing scent tickling her nostrils before heading back to the cabin.

  Shivering under the cool air of the approaching night, the prospect of a warm fire and a hearty meal was alluring. The enthusiastic voices of everyone else inside made her smile as she opened the door.

  A blast of colorful flowers hit her right in the nose, almost hiding a bouncing Finn in front of her. “Happy birthday, Maeve!”

  Her stunned face covered in petals must have looked hilarious because they were all terrible at hiding their laughter. “My birthday? Are you sure?” she asked, allowing Finn to guide her to the seat of honor.

  “Of course, you would forget. Luckily, your brother is the brightest.” Her mouth watered at the sight of the generous table, filled with delicious treats; roasted meats and vegetables, exotic desserts, and an ample assortment of drinks. The floating lights in the room made the colorful feast shine, looking sinfully inviting.

  “Are we going to eat all this?” She doubted even Hakken’s appetite could compete with the bountiful meal.

  “You can nibble this apple.” Finn handed her a sumptuous red apple. “I’ll manage with everything else.”

  “Stand back, you glutton!” Ystävä playfully shoved him to the side, filling a plate with delicacies and offering it to Maeve with a radiant smile. “For you, princess.”

  They enjoyed a peaceful and lively meal, forgetting about the dangers and trials lying ahead for a while. As the party advanced, Maeve couldn’t help to think this was the first time since Finn’s disappearance she celebrated her birthday in such grandeur.

  But the surprises for the night had just begun.

  When she felt she couldn’t take another bite, each one of her friends vanished for an instant. Ystävä was the first to emerge from the shadows. “This is for you, Maeve. The Caterpillar Queen gave me the silk.” He handed her a beautiful white gown with golden leaves embroidered around the hem. “I sewed this myself, I hope you can wear it someday.”

  It was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, and she could only stare at Ystävä in wonder. “Oh, thank you! This is gorgeous, you are so talented!” She hugged the elf, who seemed flattered by the compliment.

  Right after his master, Finn presented her with a small book. The cover was made of a soft velvety green material, adorned with silver carvings. “These are some folklore stories from the elves. A gift from one of the previous Warlock. You can find mention of an old human settlement here and... since you always liked stories, I thought you might want to start your own bookshelf.”

  Her eyes stung as the memories of her mother’s stories before bedtime came back. “Finn... are you sure you want to give me this?”

  “Of course!” Finn struggled with his tears as well. “I’m sure someday you will read them to your children.”

  Both siblings fell into a tight hug, only to be interrupted by Regn, clearing his throat. “I...” He blushed furiously. “I only just found out about your birthday, so...” He clutched something behind his back. “I hope you like this. I made it today.”

  He handed her a wooden figurine, a rough carving of a hummingbird. The work was far from flawless, but the detail and care she spotted in the tiny bird were touching. And she sensed how much Regn wanted her to like his gift. Regn’s tender and shuffled emotions were more than she could handle, and soon, a few tears escaped her eyes. He panicked. “If you find it that awful, you can hand it back! I’ll give you raw fish or—!”

  Before he had the chance to scurry away, she jumped into his arms. “You silly, I love this! It’s perfect.”

  The slight tremor in his arms dwindled while he hugged her. Before stepping away, Regn rewarded her with a grateful smile.

  She then turned to Hakken, and Maeve couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. Much had happened in the last few days, and their relationship was entirely different from their good-natured friendship back at the village. Their attraction was undeniable.

  Did she love him?

  “I’m afraid my gift to you is back in the village.” He as well held something behind his back. “I didn’t want to be the only one not giving you a present.” He produced—almost reluctantly—a delicate flower crown. Maeve took the garland, smelling the wildflowers and herbs, and admiring the careful handwork. A simple gift, and yet so meaningful. The image of rough, manly Hakken picking flowers and knitting a crown for her made her smile.

  “Thank you.” There she was, crying again. “It’s beautiful.” She placed it over her head, and Hakken beamed at her.

  As everyone relaxed back to their seats, going for a second round of food, an acute pang of urgency called on her. Someone roamed outside the cabin. Placing her many gifts on the table, Maeve headed for the entrance, and everyone’s eyes followed her.

  A breeze crept in through the parted door, and Maeve shivered as she stepped into the night. The Warlocks and the half-breeds joined her, and four jaws dropped in unison. Stomping on the grass, showered by starlight, a magnificent stag gave them the most mesmerizing stare. “I am glad to meet you again on such a mirthful occasion, young Maeve.”

  “Ancient Hua,” she bowed.

  “I’m terribly sorry to cut your celebration short, but I must speak to my sister.”

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE TORMENTED LEADER

  Dröm

  Standing on a slope, his eyes glistened lost in the distance, and partially blinded in caverns, the colorful sight of trees had always been a distant and captivating treat.

  Before the war, where his father and so many others found their untimely deaths, he used to roam under the green canopy, enjoying the fresh breeze and the briskness of the creatures scurrying around him. As a child, he dreamed of leaving the caves behind and traveling the Forest, visiting other tribes, and learning many things.

  He almost smiled, remembering those days.

  Eleven years ago, soon after his coming of age, his father—chief of their tribe—denounced the river and valley tribes as enemies to be eradicated. The news came as a shock to everyone in the village. They maintained little contact with the other half-breed tribes, but their meager relations had always been cordial.

  Every single elder conveyed their disagreement, but his father seemed deaf to reason. Dröm even tried to speak with him alone, only to be slapped in the face. Know your place, boy. He scolded him. Dröm might have reached adulthood, but his father never failed to make him feel like a child.

  After weeks of arguing, the elders didn’t seem to be close to convincing his chief to abandon this madness. Word spread about their leader losing his mind. Dröm could only witness with concern how his father’s ruling failed hopelessly. But then, the unimaginable happened.

  The chief summoned each family’s elders, matriarchs, and patriarchs to the deepest cavern in the mountain. A place reserved only as a shelter in case of a foreign invasion. The younglings stayed behind under Dröm’s charge.

  Long hours passed. His father left him with strict instructions of not letting anyone down where they held the meeting. The night turned into a new day, but still, no signs of the village elders.

  When they emerged, noon had long passed. A long line of men and women left the thick darkness of the caves, their faces devoid of all emotion.

  His father climbed out the last. When he reached the highest spot in the chamber, he turned to his people, and an awful presentiment chilled Dröm’s blood. No more questions, no more dissent against his father’s will.

  “We are at war,” the chief declared. And the brutality of those days scarred Dröm for life.

  He always blamed himself for not being strong enough to stop his father. Never in his life he felt as useless as when he failed to save him. He held him when he passed from this world. A short moment of lucidity when his old man stared at him, panicked, not knowing what was happening around him.

  The memory haunted him ever since. After the carnage, it was Dröm’s responsibility to lead his people. He vowed to look after the survivors, promising his f
ather’s spirit and himself to raise his tribe from ruin. Dröm dreamt of the time they would be at peace and rejoin the world. He yearned for the other tribe’s forgiveness.

  Eleven years of hiding and struggling to gain a new sense of harmony rewarded his people’s hard work. He knew in his heart; the time had come. But the ghosts of the past weakened his resolve.

  He never understood the true reason for his father’s war.

  Dröm feared to lead his people out into the world and put them in a place of vulnerability, only to be crushed by uncertainty. He needed to discover why his father waged war. Looking for answers, he went down to the abandoned cavern.

  He only took a small torch since his eyes were used to the darkness, and he didn’t expect to stay long.

  The shadows on the massive gallery grew long as he advanced, the echo of his footsteps and the crackle of the fire breaking the silence. Dröm reached the center of the gallery, taking a deep breath.

  “Father.”

  If he hoped to find any answers, he soon realized he wouldn’t find them in darkness. The eerie quietness of the deep let him know once again, he stood on his own. Only he would carry the responsibility to keep his people safe.

  He should go back to his people and give them the good news. They would try to reach the other tribes and make amends. Dröm repeated himself; he needed to be cautious and rational, but he couldn’t help to be excited, and a brief smile crept to his lips. He turned to head for the exit, but his legs wouldn’t respond.

  The sudden stiffness caused him to trip and drop the torch, leaving him in complete darkness. He tugged and forced every muscle to move, to no avail. “What is this?” Despite himself, he panicked. “Help!” Dröm knew he was too far for anyone to hear, but the weird sensation crawled up his body. When his arms and chest constricted, he lost all sense of control and screamed his lungs out.

  After a terrifying moment, his screams stopped, and the cave fell into silence.