Vivian
I stood in the clearing that—in a matter of a few days—had become less clear.
Six garden beds, about three feet long each, were filled with dirt.
There was a pile of logs by the tree line that Theo had yet to make use of.
The wood that Theo had begun working on was squeezed into the alcove to keep dry and allow him to carve beside the fire after dark.
He might’ve slept like a rock that first night, but I wasn’t sure I’d seen him sleep for more than an hour at a time since.
He was constantly working on the homestead.
“When we get back I’ll start the cabin,” Theo declared from behind me. I jumped, thinking he was still carving away at what would be a door across the field.
“You know you’re allowed to rest, right?” I grimaced sheepishly. Filling the garden beds with dirt hardly felt like pulling my weight compared to his work.
“I’m very well rested,” he lied.
“We’ll see about that after a day of walking.” Surely, he’d burn out trekking the mountain, even if we were on the downward slope. He had to have limits.
Theo stepped past me, his bag—once filled with tools—now carried our backup clothing, wood for Ida’s fireplace, and three times the amount of water and berries I could ever hope to tote myself.
“You doubt my stamina?” he prodded.
“I would never,” I teased, playfully crinkling my nose at him.
A genuine smile cracked the generically pleasant expression constantly plastered on his face. The default a constant mix of “say hi to me, I won’t bite” and “if you make me bite, I’ll do it hard”.
“Do you want to say goodbye to your beast?” he asked.
My “beast” was rubbing against our ankles and purring.
He’d decided Theo was his new best friend, probably because the man had started carrying small pieces of dried meat in his pocket to gift periodically.
He was going to make my cat chunky if he kept sneaking him jerky when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
Greedy little Nurghle pawed at his shin, eyes locked on those very pockets.
“Come here buddy.” I scooped the fluff ball up and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Guard the field and don’t eat all your food at once.” We had set out a pile of scraps and berries that were more than enough to keep him full in our absence.
Setting off into the woods was familiar, but it felt lighter than in the past—and not just because I wasn’t carrying the literal bag.
I had company. And that company was helping me go to town for the first time.
I’m actually going to be able to help Ida re-stash her cabin.
This was a total game changer, and I didn’t have to do it alone.
“Soooo what should I expect from town?” I asked, watching my footing as we trotted down the steep hill. The rain hadn’t started for the day, so the ground was firmer and easier to navigate.
“Has Ida told you about the species of Trebianna?” he asked.
“Seven, right?” The details were fuzzy, but I knew to be ready for variations on claws, fangs, horns, scales, and fur. I wasn’t worried. My Pyran and Quadmos introductions hadn’t felt so scary, other than being in awe how big Theo was.
“Right. And you, are a…” He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. This was a test.
“I’m a Pyran; what a strange question.” I played along.
“And where are you from, Miss Pyran?”
“Kelarium.”
“And you’re in town because…?”
“I’m here with a friend who’s looking for a rare blue-purple pigment for his paints. He should be here any moment.” Classic anti-kidnapping tactic: making sure people didn’t think I was alone and unaccounted for. Basic street smarts.
“And you remember you have a weapon strapped to your thigh?”
How could I forget? It was pokey. “Yes, Theo. I will stab anyone who fucks with me.” I tried not to roll my eyes and instead smiled patiently.
“Atta girl.” A large hand cupped the top of my head and rustled my hair.
I peered up at my traveling companion between the massive knuckles splayed over my forehead.
His shirt wasn’t much more than a piece of loose fabric covering his inner chest and back.
My eyes followed the road map of his scars and tattoos and found a new crater-like pit just below his collarbone.
My dad had one just like it on his shoulder. A gunshot wound.
“So, what do you do when you aren’t paying your imaginary debts?” I asked, my eyes returning to the path to avoid staring at the injury. Now that I’d noticed it, it was hard to unsee.
“I bartend.”
Welp. That doesn’t explain anything. “Anything else? Hobbies?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Owning my own pub takes up most of my time. I mean, I occasionally hike, but you knew that already.”
Trying to get to the bottom of his scars wasn’t happening, but the small talk was still pleasant. I only had one summer to learn about Theo, and he didn’t slow down enough to chat in my field. This man was on a mission to get this homestead built pronto.
Today, there was nothing to do but walk and yap.
“Mmmm a pub,” I hummed dreamily. “What I wouldn’t give for a drink that isn’t water or tea.
Booze? Be still my heart. I would do all sorts of unholy things for a beer.
” My cheeks warmed as I laughed. It wasn’t until the words left my mouth that I realized that may sound a little suggestive, given he had just identified himself as a professional brewski-provider.
He must’ve not picked up on the solicitation, his expression remained stone-pleasant and locked on the trail. “Have you tried making juice out of the berries?”
“Juice would require access to sugar. Otherwise, it’s just infused water or tea.”
“Sugar?”
“Oh.” I occasionally had these moments with Ida, places where our very similar worlds didn’t overlap. “A sweet powder.”
“Gotcha.” He nodded. “We use ceelee here. I’ll get you some in town.”
“Ugh, that would be soooo appreciated.” My head fell back while I let out a yearning groan.
Up ahead was a grove of teal-barked trees, distinct from the towering pines that made up most of the forest.
The interconnected branches formed a massive canopy—practically a roofed pavilion.
Tiny white flowers intermixed with the blue-green leaves.
These special orchards were scattered across the mountain, one sat not far outside of my field.
At night it glowed turquoise through the darkness of the forest, tempting me to explore.
Of course, I couldn’t investigate at night, no matter how enticing the luminescence was.
Those groves were said to house large nocturnal predators, best left feared and avoided—especially since the crystals didn’t work on them.
According to Ida, the protective jars of herbs and blood did work, but I hadn’t decided where I’d get the blood to make my own.
I wasn’t about to weaken her protective border by borrowing one in the name of pretty-glow curiosity.
In the daytime starlight, this particular network of low-branched trees was little more than a landmark indicating we were halfway to Ida’s cabin.
Sometimes I passed it, sometimes I walked through.
I hadn’t worn any trails into the forest yet, so I was always taking a slightly different route.
It was fun to explore when the path worked out—even without the glow, the mix of deep teals, blues, whites, and taupe-gray was beautiful.
I’d once asked Ida if the mushrooms growing along the bases of the trees were edible, but she didn’t know.
I could vividly remember the look of horror on her face when I mentioned I’d walked through those trees.
Turns out the fear of the grove creatures was deeply ingrained in the local culture, and I’d violated a long-held superstition by bringing it up—much less walking through one.
Of course, the taboo only made me more curious about the alluring turquoise glow and what lived within it.
“What’s with all the demons around here?” I asked casually, the topic on my mind.
I didn’t think Theo would bat an eye at the conversation since he wasn’t from around here, although I’d avoid specifying the night creatures to be safe.
“Demons?”
“The dead things that live in the forest. Are they demons? Ghosts? Some kind of fucked up forest fairies?”
“They’re simply wild beasts. Nothing supernatural or inherently evil to my knowledge.”
A hyena-like cackle in the distance disagreed on cue.
“How do people explain the weird clouds floating around their skeleton? Or the life sucking thing? It kind of feels like it has to be maaaagic,” I sang contemplatively.
He hummed, the corner of his mouth pulling into a soft, amused smile. “Can you explain how your heart beats?”
“I think it’s… muscle?”
“And what causes your muscle to contract?”
“I—I don’t know. But someone else definitely knows,” I stumbled over my words, a little surprised to realize I didn’t know that answer. “I dropped out of high school to work, Theo. That’s not a fair question.”
“What do you think people believed about the heart before they figured it out? That the soul was magic and made it pump?”
“Point received,” I chuckled. Somebody apparently isn’t into conspiracy theories.
“Don’t get me wrong, obviously magic exists.
Shit, I’m walking through the woods with a literal goddess…
But I’m not sure these beasts are ‘magic’ as much as they are something we can’t explain yet.
They can be killed like any other living thing.
Even Silvates, popular ‘dead’—” he used all four hands to make air quotes, “—pets originally from the south are alive in their own ways. It’s just different. ”
“Is it a southern thing? The death and bones and stuff?” I waved my hand through the air, gesturing at nothing in particular.
“Pretty much, yes. The southern tip of the Western Continent is mostly in that category.”
“What’s the rest of the continent like?”
He snorted out a laugh. “Fleshier.”
An unexpected cackle escaped me. “Nice.”
“Sorry I can’t say more about it. I don’t have much education in biology. It’s not my specialty.”