Chapter 7 #2
Reluctantly, I pulled away from him without so much as a murmur of thanks, afraid that if I opened my mouth I might say something infinitely more dangerous, such as asking him not to let go.
Instead, I tightened my grip upon the map, my compass not only through the forest, but through the increasingly strange events comprising the journey.
Silence settled around us once more as we continued along the winding trail.
The forest had grown denser here. Ancient pines towered overhead, their rain-darkened trunks disappearing into drifting ribbons of mist. Moss draped fallen logs like emerald velvet, while tiny rivulets of rainwater trickled down exposed roots, disappearing into the undergrowth below.
The world felt hushed beneath the overcast sky, wrapped in silver and green.
Ordinarily I preferred such silence. Yet Gabe’s presence transformed it into something entirely different.
Ever since my parents’ passing, I had grown accustomed to solitude. Grandmother offered her companionship and loving home, but over the years the warmth between us had gradually been tempered by illness, responsibilities, and the growing emptiness left behind by the emotions my magic claimed.
Yet somehow Gabe’s presence awakened something I thought had vanished long ago—a feeling that lingered in the steady rhythm of his footsteps beside mine, the occasional sound of his breathing drifting through the quiet, and the simple knowledge that if I glanced over my shoulder, I would find him there.
A companion, a word I had almost forgotten existed.
A new desire stirred within me to fill the silence I had once treasured.
Conversation had always seemed so pointless before, most exchanges little more than words spoken to occupy empty space.
A map didn’t change a landscape—it merely recorded it, preserving a place I likely would never visit again, allowing me to understand it more deeply before it disappeared.
The journey was what gave it meaning. Perhaps people worked the same way.
Could getting to know someone matter even if I would eventually have to say goodbye?
The thought lingered as I stole another glance towards Gabe, as though he might somehow possess the answer.
Though his attention remained fixed on the trail ahead, he continued sneaking occasional glances in my direction.
After several failed attempts to speak, he seemed to finally gather his courage and cleared his throat.
“There are some wonderful leaves in this forest.”
My eyebrow lifted. Of all the conversation topics I had overheard during the courtship outings that frequently occurred within my bakery, this was not one I had encountered before.
Gabe seemed oblivious to my surprise and continued, now that he’d successfully broken the silence.
He pointed towards a nearby tree, his eyes alight with interest. “Those are silver aspens. Their leaves always appear to be dancing, even when there isn’t any wind.
I sometimes imagine they’re trying to whisper secrets to one another. ”
I glanced upward. The leaves quivered softly beneath the rain, caught in a gentle breeze. Despite myself, my lips curved upwards.
Encouraged, he pointed towards a patch of broad leaves growing near a fallen log. “And those are marsh bells, the leaves you were standing beside the day we met.”
I looked over in surprise. “You remembered?”
He bashfully nodded. The simple admission warmed something inside me.
Gabe continued identifying plants as we walked.
Some he knew from his own travels, while others he recalled from books he’d read in the libraries scattered across the kingdom.
He spoke of golden maple leaves that turned almost crimson before winter, medicinal herbs he had seen growing near mountain streams, and a rare flower that only bloomed after lightning storms.
The more he talked, the more animated he became. The shy awkwardness never fully disappeared, but his voice grew steadier whenever he discussed the natural world. I found myself listening less to the facts themselves and more to the quiet enthusiasm hidden beneath them.
As we continued deeper into the forest, the landscape gradually began to change.
The towering pines thinned slightly, allowing more light to filter through the mist. Patches of luminous green moss appeared along the stones bordering the path, glowing faintly despite the overcast afternoon.
Small white flowers turned their faces upward as we passed, their petals slowly unfurling despite the rain.
A strange breeze whispered through the trees. For a fleeting moment, I could have sworn the forest itself was watching us. The sensation vanished as quickly as it came.
Yet when I glanced down at the map, I noticed the symbols marking the raspberry grove seemed almost brighter than before. And somewhere ahead, beyond the veil of mist and rain, I thought I caught the first glimpse of crimson berries gleaming amongst the thorns.
The rain softened to a fine silver mist just as the path began to widen.
The dense forest gradually opened into a hidden hollow tucked between the trees.
Ivy climbed the surrounding trunks in twisting emerald spirals, draping the ancient oaks in living lace.
Mist drifted low across the ground while shafts of late afternoon sunlight finally began piercing the overcast sky, turning the lingering moisture into a shimmering veil of gold and silver.
My fingers itched to sketch the details into a map, though at the same time I didn’t want to do anything to disturb the beauty of this moment of simply observing with my companion.
The clearing felt untouched, as though the forest had hidden it away long ago, awaiting our arrival.
I stepped through the leafy archway formed by two towering oaks standing like sentries at the entrance, as though guarding whatever treasure lay protected beyond.
Beyond them, rainwater pooled and reflected silvery light across the hollow.
Wild raspberry brambles grew between the trees, their crimson berries glowing faintly amongst the soft greens of the forest floor.
I immediately spotted the briarthorn berries, hints of crimson poking up through the leafy green clustered near the base of an ancient tree. Yet I made no move towards them.
Something about the journey felt unfinished. Though the purpose of our excursion had been to gather raspberries, I found myself strangely reluctant to reach our destination. An odd realization considering I had originally hoped Gabe would stay behind.
I deliberately turned my attention elsewhere, as if by pretending not to see the berries I could extend our outing a bit longer.
Unfortunately, Gabe proved significantly more observant despite his lack of directional skills.
He slowly surveyed the clearing before his gaze landed directly upon the berry patch.
He squinted through the sheen of mist and his entire expression brightened.
“Are those the briarthorn berries?”
I followed his gaze and reluctantly nodded.
He crossed the clearing in a few purposeful strides, and after a moment’s hesitation, I slowly followed.
We knelt side by side upon the damp grass.
Gabe carefully brushed aside several broad leaves concealing them from view, his touch lingering upon one with obvious interest before he shifted his attention to the fruit itself.
They should have been perfectly ripe, but despite being in season, their color was a faint crimson, almost pale.
Gabe frowned. “They don’t appear ready to be picked.
” His concern deepened as he examined them.
“Does that mean we can’t make the tart?” By the crease in his forehead, this thought clearly troubled him.
“Magical ingredients can be temperamental,” I explained, gently shifting leaves in hopes of finding riper berries. “Many require very specific conditions before they reveal their full enchantment.”
Though my tone remained calm, unease stirred beneath my composure as I studied the berries. Something was wrong.
“What are the conditions for these?” he asked.
“They must be gathered at dusk,” I recited.
He waited. When I offered nothing more, his frown deepened.
“That’s all?” At my nod, his confusion mirrored my own.
“But we’ve already fulfilled those conditions.
” As though seeking confirmation, he glanced upward; the sky’s overcast had begun transforming, streaked with brushstrokes of rose and gold dusk that glistened off the rain still drifting softly through the clearing.
Every condition appeared to have been fulfilled, and yet the berries remained untouched by magic.
I nibbled my lower lip, considering the riddle.
I leaned closer to better examine the fruit.
They possessed the unmistakable shimmer of enchanted ingredients, confirming them as true briarthorn berries.
Experimentally, I reached towards one, but my fingers stopped inches away. An invisible barrier blocked my touch, magic that prevented me from harvesting the berries until I fulfilled the missing condition. Gradually the memory of Grandmother’s voice surfaced.
“These particular berries respond best to harmonious emotions. Magic is always stronger when gathered in companionship.”
At the time I had dismissed the advice as little more than a transparent attempt at matchmaking. Now I wasn’t so certain. Her desperate desire for me to find companionship couldn’t dismiss her experience as a baker of magical ingredients.
“Did you figure something out?” Gabe voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I glanced up questioningly. “Why do you think that?”
His expression softened slightly. “Your expression is usually impassive, making it easy to notice each subtle shift. You appear to have experienced an epiphany.” At my extended silence, his ears reddened. “Am I mistaken?”