Episode 107 Alone
Alone
“Cerian?” Arisanna whispers as she grips the doorframe and searches the forest for some sign of him. It’s as if he vanished.
“Cerian!” She calls louder this time, but there’s still no response, other than his heart pounding to match her own.
He didn’t wake without her, did he? She wouldn’t still be in the heartlanding if he had, though. They’re supposed to be together here.
Unless this isn’t the heartlanding. What if it’s a regular dream?
It sure didn’t feel like a dream as he ran his hands along her sides a few minutes ago.
But then dreams often seem real until you wake.
Either way, he’s gone, and the thought of venturing into the forest without him turns her knuckles white as she clutches the train.
No one could possibly expect her to get off without him. And to what end? He’s not standing there waiting for her. At least not as far as she can see.
What if the doorway is some sort of portal to another place? And all she needs to do to find him is step through it?
But what if it isn’t? And what if the train disappears as soon as she steps off?
Her words from their last excursion in the heartlanding return to her, and she winces.
I’d follow you anywhere, Cerian Westaria.
Did she mean it?
She calls his name again, but there’s still no response.
This is either the heartlanding being an awful, awful...entity.
Or it’s a nightmare.
At least nightmares eventually end. And so do nights in the heartlanding.
Maybe she’ll just wait it out.
Slowly, she releases her grip on the train and steps backward. One step. Two steps. Then she hurries to the nearest row of seats and drops to the cushion, keeping her eyes on the open doorway the whole time.
She’ll just wait here for him to return. Or for her to wake up. That seems safest.
But where did he go? And why?
Cerian’s hand closes around empty air as soon as his feet hit the ground, and he spins around, but both Arisanna and the train are gone.
And their forest by the lake has been replaced by something much more sinister. The wind whistles through branches overhead that loom black against a midnight blue sky. They’re rough and jagged, and they feel wrong. Not like the trees in his familiar woods.
These trees are not benevolent. If a tree can be benevolent, that is. He never thought so before, but a chill creeps up his spine at the coldness of this forest.
Hopefully, Arisanna isn’t somewhere in these woods. She’d be terrified, especially alone.
“Arisanna!” he calls, but a growl of thunder is the only response.
Her heart races to match his own, and the urge to panic fills him, not for his well-being but for hers.
“I wish to be with Arisanna.”
He searches the forest in every direction, but nothing has changed. He’s still here without her.
If only he had life magic to search these cursed woods for her, but he doesn’t.
Would his heart lead him to her? Is she even somewhere he can find from here?
He creates a golden light in his palm, which adds to the ominous shadows, but they’re just shadows. A trick of the light.
And none of this is real. It’s just the heartlanding. Isn’t it? The last time he had an unsettling dream, it was about Elowyn, but it didn’t feel like the heartlanding that time. It was all wrong.
This felt like the heartlanding until he stepped off the train.
So what is the heartlanding trying to teach them tonight?
Perhaps they’re supposed to learn to find each other. To search for each other when the world around them is crumbling.
But where is he even supposed to start? The only sense he has of her is her pounding heart. It’s calmed slightly as he’s stood here contemplating their situation. At least she seems to be somewhere safe and not somewhere in peril.
Closing his eyes, he focuses on the beating of their hearts. His pulse is accelerated, but it’s her heart driving his increased heart rate more than his own. Perhaps if he calms her, she’ll sense his presence and know he’s searching for her.
He slows and steadies his breath. In and out. Over and over. Eventually, her heart rate returns to something closer to normal.
Wherever she is, she doesn’t seem to be terrified. Not by her surroundings, at least.
Which probably means one thing.
She didn’t follow him off the train.
He can’t really blame her.
Where is the train, though? Can he reach it from here?
Cerian stands with his light extended as he studies the forest again.
He’ll find her. If she can be found, he’ll find her.
With his magic, he reaches into the soil at his feet to create a field of daisies in case he needs to find this spot again. The magic fights him, making it far more difficult than it should be to pull the white flowers from the ground, and when he manages it, they look small and spindly.
It’s good enough for what he needs, though.
Taking a deep breath, he steps warily into the surrounding forest, each foot placed carefully as he keeps his fire magic at the ready, since these woods don’t seem to answer well to his plant magic.
He draws out more pathetic flowers as he goes, but it’s draining. He’ll need food soon at this rate. Does he dare eat anything in these woods?
Perhaps the heartlanding will give him something.
“I wish for an apple.” He holds out his hand, and the heartlanding is kind enough to grant his request, but he stumbles backward, throwing the moldy, worm-filled fruit into the darkness.
Whistling wind. He won’t be eating anything here.
He’ll have to stop using his plant magic.
With a sigh, he turns. This isn’t working, anyway. She’s not this way. He can sense it in his chest in ways he can’t explain. There’s no how or why to it. He just feels it.
He’s going the wrong way.
At least his flower patches mark the path back, though they’re hard to see even with his light. Most of the flowers have wilted in the moments since he created them.
When Arisanna’s heart suddenly speeds up, he stills. Fears about her safety and well-being grip him, and he sprints toward the original daisy patch he grew.
“Arisanna!” he cries, though he doesn’t really expect her to answer.
And he keeps running.
As Arisanna sits on the train, a soothing sensation fills her chest, drawing Cerian’s heart rate back to normal and pulling hers along with it. Is he doing that? Reaching out to her through their heartbinding?
It’s a comforting thought, especially since it means he must be safe, wherever he is. And he’s thinking about her, reaching out to her.
While she hides on the train.
She didn’t even try to find him. What’s wrong with her?
Once again, her words about following him haunt her.
She definitely didn’t follow him. She was too busy being terrified.
And now she’s alone.
It’s not too late, is it? She could still follow him.
Mustering her courage, she approaches the door again.
It just looks like their forest lake. It’s fine.
She gazes over the familiar scene as she clutches the train.
It’s not nearly as comforting as clinging to Cerian.
Her heart races as she contemplates leaving the train. He must sense it. What is he thinking? Is he worried about her? Is he all right?
She’ll never find out if she stays here.
Images of him standing at the door of their honeymoon suite fill her. If he can be brave when he’s afraid, so can she.
“I’d follow you anywhere, Cerian Westaria.”
Her hand trembles as she loosens her hold on the train.
“Please be there,” she whispers.
His heart pitches into its own frenzy to match hers, making her freeze in the doorway. Is he all right? Why didn’t she follow him right away?
Before she can talk herself out of it again, she takes one step and another until her foot hovers midway between the last stair and the forest floor.
Then she steps off the train.
Instead of the soft soil she expected, she lands in a sad patch of wilted, decaying daisies she can only see in flashes of lightning. When she looks up, terror fills her as thunder makes her jump, and more lightning illuminates jagged, crooked, broken limbs looming overhead.
This isn’t their forest. It’s dark and evil, and she flails for the train, but it’s gone.
And so is Cerian.
She struggles to breathe as panic seizes her. A scream lodges in her throat, but she can’t seem to make a sound, even to call his name.
He’s here. Somewhere. She can sense him, like a tightness in her chest. And his own heart is racing, but she can barely feel it over the blood pounding in her ears and through her veins.
Wind rustles through the trees behind her, and she spins, a chill racing down her spine. There’s nothing but more terrifying trees in every direction, and she sinks onto the patch of daisies, hugging her knees to her chest.
Why did she get off the train?