Chapter One
I step outside my front door and take a deep breath.
I love the smell from my front porch.
The smell that always brings a smile to my face and makes me feel at home.
That deep, earthy smell that you can only find in the forest. Like a mixture of wood, soil, leaves, and oh-so-incredibly clean.
The freshest air you can get.
It’s a little chilly, but the sun is warm. Typical weather for a cloudless spring morning, when it isn’t even quite seven yet.
Still, I’m quite comfortable in my oversized sweater and leggings. The coffee cup in my hands is warming me up. Knowing the caffeine inside will help to jump-start my day, I take a sip and smile.
Damn, I make good coffee.
I’m barefoot, but that’s no surprise. I hate wearing shoes. They always feel too confining. I can’t connect to the world around me in shoes. Even the ones that I find to be incredibly cute and can’t stop myself from buying off the internet still feel like a cage. Shoes stop me from feeling the energy of…
Well, never mind.
I don’t get to feel the energy of anything anymore.
But that is fine. I made my choice, and I will stand by it. There is no point in dwelling on that.
The choice I made has kept me safe for the last three years and I won’t take that for granted.
Besides, it’s not like there is anything I can do to change it.
Although… I hadn’t considered that maybe I could…
No.
No, no, no.
This has to stop.
Everything is fine, and the world is a better place with me apart from it. I’m safe, and so is everyone else. That is what matters most.
The world doesn’t care if I feel like a part of me is missing.
The world is better without it, so I have to be too.
Yeah. I’ll just keep telling myself that.
I take a deep breath and turn around to head back into the house.
Just looking at it puts a smile on my face. The structure was built by my very own hands. From its gray/green wooden exterior to its purplish wood door, everything had been created by yours truly. I even made a tea stain from evergreens for the exterior and a juice stain from these purple berries I found for the door.
I’m still not sure if those berries were poisonous. They might have been huckleberries, but the inside color seemed a lot darker, and…
Wait a second…
My brain is seriously running away from me today.
Dragging my gaze away from the door, and from the maybe poisonous–but definitely pretty– berry stain, I walk inside to rinse out my now empty mug.
The inside of my house is a little homier than the subdued reflection of the outside.
I have a main room, which contains my kitchen and living room. Fitted with copper fixtures, simple appliances that run on either solar energy or are simply hand-powered, and furniture in varying shades of dark wood, green, and pops of eggplant purple.
Then in the back of the house, I have my bedroom and bathroom, separated by a short narrow hallway, all of which contains the same color palette.
While the front door is the only one for the entire house–who needs privacy when you never have house guests–but I had allowed myself the indulgence of two nice-sized windows. One in the kitchen, allowing me to look out at the garden while washing dishes or cooking, and the other in the living room.
I had put together many reclaimed wood projects before, as a hobby in my former life, but I had never tackled anything on this scale before.
All things considered, I think I did a pretty damn good job.
Even if that opinion was biased.
These two untrained hands of mine built all 397 square feet of my living space. It’s… well cozy would be a polite description but to be honest, it’s very tiny.
That is ok though, because it’s plenty of space for me and Orpheus.
Orpheus, or “Ori”, as I call him, is my fami–
I mean…
Ori is my friend .
Actually, he is my best friend and the most loyal one I could ever ask for.
Even if he is incredibly mouthy for a raven. And I don’t mean that weird gurgly croak that other ravens offer as their traditional form of speech.
No. Ori is…well, special. Our conversations are never one-sided.
Well, at least not on his side.
He is also surprisingly absent this morning.
Which is strange, because the little turd is always badgering me to switch out my coffee for tea.
Now, I like tea, don’t get me wrong. It’s great for different ailments, or as a relaxer and tranquilizer.
But to help you wake up?
Yeah, no thanks.
Seriously, how is a cup of leaf bath supposed to give me the kick in the ass I need to start my day? I just can’t wrap my head around that idea.
I’m not sure why he developed this obsession with my coffee, but a day has never gone by that he didn’t give me his unflattering opinion of my “wake-up juice.”
I tried to make the switch once, just as an experiment.
It was the worst 30 minutes of my 30 years in existence.
I felt like that princess in human fairytales. You know, the one who lost her shoe and fell asleep… err… something like that. Anyways, I thought I was turning into a zombie, but after I quickly made a cup of coffee, and took that first giant sip the world felt right again.
Since then, whenever Ori started up about the tea vs. coffee war, I would just sip and nod. He would prattle on about it, then my cup would be empty, I would drink the tea he insisted on, and then we would go about our day.
It’s this fun little routine we have developed since we moved here.
Except today, he is nowhere to be seen.
“Ori,” I call into the house while shutting the door behind me.
No answer.
I walk to the sink and rinse out my cup, leaving it to be washed later. I turn around and lean back against the counter.
Looking around the main room, I’m preparing to entice a response out of my absent friend. And being such good friends means that I know just what buttons to push and get a response from him.
“Ori, I enjoyed a lovely cup of coffee this morning,” I call out, my voice echoing through the small, clearly empty house. Still, I press on. “In fact, I’m so full from my coffee, I just don’t think there is any way at all I could possibly drink anything else. I guess I will just have to have tea tomorrow.”
I wait, but again there is no response.
I would be lying if I didn’t say that the silence was a little bit unnerving.
You try spending three years living alone with the world’s biggest motormouth of a raven and see if you don’t find the silence just a bit worrisome.
Where did that bird wander off to?
Since the steady rain from last week had finally let up, he knew we would have a lot of work to catch up on today.
Subconsciously, I start to bite the inside of my cheek. It’s a terrible nervous habit that I developed, but can’t seem to kick.
Oh well, it could be worse I suppose.
At least I don’t bite my nails or something.
Just the thought of that clicking against your teeth sound makes me shudder and pulls me out of my own thoughts, as I push off the counter and head towards the hallway.
Since I know I will have to put on my hiking boots and venture out to chop some wood today, I go to my bedroom and snag a pair of socks.
Looking around for Ori on my way back through the house, I deflate a little when I come up with nothing.
Honestly, it is a small house after all, and doesn’t require much searching, so calling out should have been enough to locate him if he were here.
Besides, Ori has never been one for tricks, or childish games of hiding.
So where the heck is he?
I find my comfiest pair of wooly socks and take them with me. Grabbing my hiking boots from beside the front door, I make my way out, closing the door firmly behind me.
I stand there and wait for just a moment until I hear the distinct suction sound the door always makes when the house is aware that no one is in it. That sound means that my secondary wards are working and securely in place. The house is protected and safe from any uninvited guests.
In fact, the entire house is covered in a ward that acts as a magickal deterrent. It makes anyone who happens to look in its direction uncomfortable and want to walk away, very quickly.
However to even get that close, would also mean that someone would have to get through my first, outer ward.
That ward encompasses nearly 50 acres and is centered in a forest that is not overly popular, even among the most seasoned hikers. Unless you are an average woodland creature, getting through it is impossible.
I gave up so much of myself to make sure that it stays that way.
Some of the most vital bits of myself in fact.
Bits that I ache for every day.
Pulling my mind, yet again , from things I do not need to be dwelling on right now, I focus my attention back on my absent friend.
Where the absolute fuck is Ori?
I sit down on my front porch and pull on my socks and boots. His absence is making me incredibly uncomfortable.
Frowning at nothing, I call out again. Louder this time so that my voice might carry further.
“Ori, where are you?”
I wait, and yet… nothing.
He had mentioned that he felt I wasn’t taking his advice seriously since we moved out here.
Surely this isn’t some kind of temper tantrum, right?
I contemplate this as I finish lacing up my boots and try to recall some of our previous conversations.
He had been pushing the topic of my coffee addiction a little harder than usual lately. But… since he was always harping on my coffee consumption, that can’t be what’s wrong.
We had briefly talked about my mother, but that is always such a painful subject for us both. He had loved her as much as I did, and we are still raw over her absence in our life. So since we both share that pain, surely that isn’t the issue either.
We had also talked about the garden and even made a list of the things we wanted to grow this year. It was nearly time to get the area prepared and the seeds started. I did turn down his demand that we grow corn, just like every previous year, but that can’t be it… right?
No. Ori understood why corn just wasn’t worth the effort. Even if he did love it so.
Oh! Maybe he had just decided to hunt for breakfast this morning instead?
That must be where he is.
He probably just wanted to take a little time for himself, stretch his wings, and enjoy a meal that I would not be interested in sharing.
Or observing.
Memories of him ripping flesh off tiny bones have me shuddering.
Letting myself accept that solution as truth, as I step off the porch and make my way down the front path.
Stopping by the cordwood I started for this winter, I snatch up my glorified excuse of a hatchet and set off to the west. I had already covered most of my eastern property area over the last several months, so I need to expand my search in a different direction for my firewood.
I scavenge my wood from fallen limbs and branches. Even the wood I used to build my home was made from scraps off the forest floor. I could never cut down a live tree. Just the mere thought of doing that makes my heart ache.
Ori had said once, that feeling was probably due to the fact that my mother was a powerful halfling witch.
We are taught as children that witches never cut down trees or ate meat. Doing either of those things would make a witch sick for days and possibly even months, severely muddling their magic for a while. Depending on the severity of the ‘offense,’ it was rumored that a witch’s magick could be permanently tampered or lessened.
Punishments from the Gods for harming, when we were a people of healing.
Cue the point that there is something seriously freaky about yours truly.
See, I’m not sure if the whole thing with trees is true for me, but I felt so horrible just thinking about it, that I never had any interest in testing that theory.
But meat?
Well… that has never been an issue for me.
In fact, my mother had actually even insisted that one of my meals a day include meat, and while she never prepared it herself, she taught me how to make some of the yummiest dishes from a very young age.
My mother…
Just thinking of her brings a sad smile to my face.
Even after three years, I can still see her so clearly.
While the past can be painful, I am grateful for these memories.
Allowing myself to even get lost a little in my thoughts of her…
Elswyth Grimshaw was a beautiful, and fierce, force of nature.
Ellie, as everyone called her, had long, curly, dark brown hair that was left to run wild around her soft, round face. Sometimes she would try to get it out of her way by tucking a few strands behind her subtly-tipped elven ears. But that never lasted long. She would just laugh and say how it was “a wild beast that would never be tamed.”
Her lips were the perfect shade of blushing rose, but had never been touched by cosmetics. And she always had the corners of them pulled up into a dazzling smile. One that made you instantly smile back, but also told you that she was clearly up to something.
Her eyes were this deep shade of twinkling sapphire blue, before fading out into a bright turquoise around the edges that always seemed to glow. Like pools of cool water that pulled you into their endless depths.
I remember sitting in her lap as a child and getting lost in those big, beautiful eyes while she sang me to sleep. Her melodic voice was instantly calming, like a soothing balm to my soul.
My mother was an ethereal beauty, and no one in this world would ever compare.
Even though I am her daughter, and share some similar physical traits, I lack her spark, and my appearance is more subdued.
My hair is the same color, with the same wild curls, but I always keep it pulled back in a long braid, preferring to keep it more… in place and basically just out of my fucking face.
However, I also don’t have to worry myself about using that wild mane to keep dainty ears hidden that hint at an elven parentage.
We both share the same light complexion to our skin tone, even though neither of us has ever suffered a sunburn. And while she remained fairly blemish-free, I do have a smattering of freckles and a few random birthmarks and scars.
Ellie’s soft feminine figure was replaced by my curvier stature, and although she walked with this confident glide that seemed to demand awe, I tended to trip over the air.
Regularly.
My eyes are also very different from hers, being a deep golden yellow.
Yes, yellow.
Strange, I know.
No, my father was not a reptile–that I am aware of anyways.
Kidding!
Mother said that unique shade of yellow inspired my name, Forsythia, but everyone calls me Sythia. And for some strange reason, my people always seem a bit uncomfortable when they see my eyes.
Although, that reaction is probably just because of all the weird and awkward shit that seems to come spewing out of my mouth at any given awkward moment.
I didn’t have any friends as a child.
There were plenty of children my age in the neighborhood, but they always seemed to shy away from me. They were never outright cruel, but it was more that they preferred to play in areas where I was not.
It never bothered me much.
Thanks to my overactive imagination and a handful of invisible friends, I never truly felt the absence of the other children.
And yes, I am aware of how pitiful and crazy that sounds.
But back then?
Back then, it was just how things were. And I was a happy kid, so I guess it all worked out.
Mother said that the other children kept their distance because I was special, and my magic was powerful. People always feared what they didn’t understand.
She also said that I didn’t need any friends because I would always have her and Ori.
She was wonderful like that.
Possibly a bit crazy, but definitely wonderful.
My mother was a hero, even if most of the world would never know it.
She sacrificed herself to save us all.
To save me .
Taking a walk down memory lane must have made my feet stop walking in the physical world at some point since I haven’t made it very far away from the house.
I’m seriously distracted today and it is starting to make me feel a little on edge.
I shake my head and crack my neck from side to side. Trying to give myself a minute to re-center and attempt to focus on where I was supposed to be heading.
Where was that again?
Right, I’m heading to the westward edge to collect firewood.
I try to take a step forward, but I seem to be stuck.
I know I’m supposed to walk forward, but my feet want me to turn off in a different direction.
It feels as if I can’t move in any other direction.
I keep trying, but my feet remain planted firmly where they are.
The last time something like this happened, my magick was calling me to something important.
But I don’t have my magick.
Struggling for a bit and getting nowhere fast, I force myself to stop moving and take a deep breath to calm myself.
I suppose it probably would be smart to see where I’m being pulled.
So I let go and allow my feet to lead me south.
I have only been walking for about a mile, when the tug becomes stronger and much more intense, making me think this situation is much more urgent than I had originally thought
After checking to make sure that my hatchet is secured in my belt, I begin a light jog.
Three miles into my jog and I have to stop for a minute.
To be brutally honest, I might be a teensy bit out of shape.
Ok, maybe a lot out of shape.
In my defense, I haven’t needed to keep up with my running regimen since we moved out here.
The terrain and obstacles make long-distance running a very illogical workout.
While I’m struggling to get my winded breathing to level out, I hear a noise.
There was a screech , then the sound of branches breaking, followed by a loud “ thud .”
It sort of sounds like something very heavy has just fallen out of a tree.
Most likely a fallen branch or a–
Pained whimpering stops my thoughts from going any further.
Well, shit…