Chapter 36 #3
Andrik swallows loudly, “She’s a Múrvenkae,” he says softly. “But she chose you, so you get to choose her name.” (Sacred snowbee.)
“Can I move her so I can see what she looks like?”
“Yes, carefully, her wings are fragile; they carry special healing powers.”
I gently cup her in my hand and cradle her in my palms. Her wings are translucent; they look like pressed ice crystals, patterned with frost-ferns that shimmer when she breathes.
Her body is round, almost cartoonishly so. She looks like a snow-puff with feet and twitching antennae.
Her little body pulses gently with bioluminescent light, a pulse of soft lavender and mint.
She is absolutely adorable and impossibly light, as if she’s made more of magic than of bone.
“Do you want a name?” I say as I stroke in between her eyes. She nuzzles into my touch.
“Hmmm,” I think. “How about Bimby Button?”
Andrik blinks slowly, then his lips twitch, and a smile breaks across his face. It hits me like sunlight through the trees, melting the chill of the forest and warming me from the inside out.
Andrik-
Bimby Button.
I sway a little, breath caught somewhere between my chest and throat. I haven't heard a Múrvenkae chirp like that in over five hundred years.
I watch, awestruck, as the little glowing snow-bee imprints on Lumi.
She lifts her hand to coax Bimby onto her finger, speaking softly, like one would to a child. There’s no fear in her, only curiosity and wonder.
My knees nearly give out. I can feel the earth humming beneath my feet, a slight tremor. The forest is waking.
“You know,” I murmur, “it’s unheard of for animals in the Rhavari forest to imprint on a mate before the bond is fulfilled. I’ve never known this to happen.” I pause, letting the truth settle. “Just another way you defy fate, Lumi.”
I can barely hear over the pounding in my ears as I watch her whisper to the same Múrvenkae that comforted me as a boy.
Back then, her light was the only thing that kept the crushing silence at bay.
Seeing that same glow reflected in Lumi’s eyes, the two halves of my life—the lonely child and the desperate man—finally seem to meet in a collision that leaves me breathless.
She’s chosen you,” I say again, but it comes out broken this time, barely reaching Lumi’s ears. Bimby glows brighter in response.
I want to fall forward and bury my face in her lap while I beg the trees to seal the world around us—before anything else can take her from me.
“She’ll stay close to you now,” I murmur. “Her kind doesn’t stray once they've imprinted. She’s part of you now. “
She turns slightly, a crease forming between her brows. “That’s... good? Right?”
I nod, though the word feels laughably small. “It’s more than good, Lumi. It’s numinous.”
If the Múrvenkae felt her soul strongly enough to bond, it means the other soboe?ns won’t be far behind. (Soul-bonded guardians.)
The forest isn’t just accepting her as my mate; it’s actively trying to protect her by giving her the strongest guardian, before the bond is even satisfied.
“We should keep going,” I say gently. “There are more who’ll want to see you.”
She hesitates, one finger still tracing Bimby’s glowing body. “Will they all be this cute? Because I don’t do sharks, Andrik.”
I choke back a laugh.
“There’s only one way to find out, Sael?n.”
We head deeper into the grove. Bit by bit, the path narrows until snow thins into a lacework of frost and roots. The light filters through the canopy from silver to something more intense... more alive.
Gold ripples through the air like it’s breathed between the trees themselves.
The hum in the air grows louder, but it’s no longer answering to me; it’s rearranging itself around her.
Lumi steps carefully, every tiny footstep deliberate so she doesn’t trip. Bimby rests in the hollow of her collarbone, glowing faintly like a living locket. It’s a lavender beacon that marks her as the heart of this wood. I find myself following that light like a man lost at sea.
I stay half a step behind, watching the way her shoulders tense, then relax, but mostly, I listen as the woods whisper while she passes through its land.
She stumbles on a root, and a jolt of panic flares through me—a phantom ache shoots through my own ankles, as if our nerves are starting to braid together.
She rights herself with a quiet curse, brushing her hands down her thighs as if the forest offended her.
If she only knew how much it already loved her.
I pause when I feel a ripple in the air. She spins fast, her instincts sharper than they were even a week ago.
A low snort rings through the air, followed by the heavy crunch of hooves galloping over frost.
A Vaernorith steps into the clearing. (Sacred reindeer.)
His antlers catch the golden light, massive and gnarled, with a faint glow at the tips. His thick silver fur is dappled with white flecks that shine with a luminous radiance. His hooves steam softly in the snow, leaving no prints.
His soft amber eyes fixate on Lumi, like distant stars blinking through fog.
She doesn’t speak. Just watches, frozen, as he lowers his head to her.
His antlers dip to the ground in quiet reverence; the weight of the forest’s history bows with him.
He drops a small bundle at her feet. I may be the King of this ward, but in this moment, I am simply a spectator at my own throne.
She doesn’t hesitate to press her fingers into the velvet fur of his cheek like she’s done it a thousand times before.
Slowly, he lifts his head, his tongue slips out, broad and gentle, and he gives the side of her cheek a single lick—his blessing.
A stunned giggle escapes her. “You licked me.”
He huffs low and nudges his gift closer to her boots. She kneels and picks them up, the frostdrop berries glow in her palm like captured tears. When she looks at me, the gold light of the grove makes her eyes look like honey set on fire.
“They’re frostdrop berries,” I explain. “A delicacy in the forest. Sweet at first, then a sudden burst of citrus. Vaernoriths feed them to their young.”
I pause, voice tight.
“He’s claiming you as family.”
She throws her arms around his neck, and he chuffs again, clearly pleased by her acceptance.
“Do I name him too?” she asks without letting go.
“Yes. Every creature in the Ring of Witness will be yours to name.”
She presses her forehead to his and whispers, “Thank you, Mallow. I consider you my family now too... God knows I could use one.”
I watch her embrace him, a creature that could trample a battalion, and I realize that while I’m busy boarding her in to keep her safe, the forest is simply opening its arms.