Back at the Forest

Ivorie walked away from the cottage, she marched on a steady pace, not minding the heavy satchel and makeshift bag full of peaches and apples. She paused every ten paces. Her load was getting heavier by the step.

But for some reason, she knew that, in her life in Ostarii, that this wasn't the most difficult time that she had. She hummed a song under her breath. It was a song that she had memorized back on earth. Take my breath away. The familiar song managed to calm her down.

She wiped her wet brow with her sleeve.

She made camp and marveled at the larger, much darker forest ahead. Her small fire illuminated her surroundings. It looked prehistoric even, as if at any moment, dinosaurs would come rushing out. A cool breeze rushed through, and Ivorie felt her hackles rise. She could hear whispers coming from the other forest.

"Come here granddaughter, the most beautiful child." She knew that voice.

"Why did you leave us, mama?" Was that Eliza, her daughter? Another wind passed through the forest.

She squinted her eyes. Were there people inside the forest?

"Hey honey, I bought take out." Was that Allan, her dearly departed husband?

Ivorie was at a loss, she didn't know what to do. She put her hands to her ears, and started singing "Take My Breath Away" at the top of her lungs. She tried to remember the movie the song came from, the pilot. It could be a trap. She knew that those people didn't even belong in this world.

The air felt heavy and oppressive. Like right before a storm.

"Why don't you kill yourself again here, Emily? Just be the coward that you are." The whispers grew louder, that was her Allan's voice, right? Ivorie launched on singing the Beatles, "Yellow Submarine," in an effort to drown out the voices. The absurd lyrics distracted her.

She had to run. Run as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

She had no choice.

She would come back to the camp for her things, when it was daylight.

Still covering her ears, she bolted back into the forest where she came from.

She took off her hands off her ears, making sure she had run a safe distance away, a painful stitch was running up her side from running too quick and too fast. She took deep breaths which seemed to burn her lungs, and steadied herself against a tree trunk. Her calves hurt. In the sky, the twin moons seemed to mock her with their constancy.

How on earth was she going to cross to the next kingdom, when she had to cross an enchanted lying forest? She lay on the leafy ground, in the distance she could still see her campfire. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

She woke to the sound of hoofbeats. She turned in panic and hid behind a tree trunk. There were masked, and caped people rummaging through the campfire. It wasn't even bright yet. The sun wasn't up in the horizon. She sighed in despair. If they took her belongings, she would have no food, nor no means to make a fire. Thankfully, they didn't. She saw the masked, gloved and caped riders gallop towards a carriage. Their horses were huge. She waited for the sounds to fade away before she slowly made her way back to the camp fire.

What she would do for a horse right now.

She sneaked back into the campfire and gathered her things. She sighed at the sight of some fruit trampled on by the huge horses' hooves. The horses were smokey grey and looked like draft horses. The riders looked like mere children atop them.

She was scavenging for the undamaged fruit when she heard someone clearing it's throat.

"Excuse me."

She looked around and saw a hawk on a nearby branch. It had tilted it's head, it was a beautiful raptor, about the size of a rooster, all brown and white in the early dawn. Ivorie had never seen a hawk up close, even when she was Emily.

"Oh, hello," She panicked, and thought that perhaps the hawk would reveal her location. Her hand froze while picking up unbruised apples.

"No need to worry miss. I won't tell." The voice seemed inappropriate for the owner. For some reason, she trusted the bird. It sounded like voice coming from a lounge singer. It looked reliable, not like Alixtair the cat. Ivorie looked around, hesitant to say anything. She finally opened her mouth, in a tense whisper.

"I don't know what crime I committed. Why are they looking for me? I saw a wanted poster with my picture in the cottage."

"Aren't you curious enough to find out?" The hawk replied.

"No, do you know a way around that forest? "she pointed to the dark, whispering woods.

"Ah the Poison Tongue Woods? It's good you didn't listen to the whispers. Demons live there." The hawk said casually.

"They either kill the mortals who end up being seduced by the whispers, or keep them as blood slaves."

The hawk continued as she was met with Ivorie's inquiring gaze.

"They keep them chained up against cave walls and keep them barely alive to drain their blood. We tried to stop the horrible practice, but even the soldiers couldn't resist the lies. The sun never hits the ground in those ancient woods. There's an old animal path that you can follow, it skirts the forest. You better find something to stuff your ears first. The demons don't dare to leave the forest. If you can resist, you'll be safe."

"How..how do they know what to say?"

"That's for a magician to answer. If I were you, I'd just turn myself in, it'll be snowing in a couple of weeks And any prison, is much better than sleeping rough out in the cold."

Ivorie shuddered at the hawk's words.

"I want to be free."

The hawk seemed to shrug at Ivorie's words, as if to say "I told you so." and launched herself into the morning sky.

+++++

THE ONE YEAR BRIDE

The following day, it was almost noon when she reached the pastureland. Ivorie had woken up at the break of dawn, knocked on several doors, arranged for her roof to be mended, bought some extra plates and an unblemished pitcher. She also had hired out two neighboring teenagers to mend the fence. She also purchased several bolts of fine linen and thick yarn. Several cords of firewood, a couple of sacks of well-milled flour for her neighbors. She even managed to get a horse. A whitish pink gelding. She had to pay extra to make sure that the steed she had purchased was broken in. She led the sheep at a leisurely canter atop her horse. She planned to go down the nearest lowland town on the last day of the week, Sisterday and buy some more clothes for her grandmother and herself.

Piers was waiting for her at the grazing pasture. He sat by the base of the boulder, basking in the sun. He brightened up, upon seeing her. He half jogged towards her. His hands held out to catch hers. Like a child who had patiently waited for a friend.

"What took you so long, Ivorie? I've fallen asleep waiting for you." Ivorie blushed.

The sheep milled around them, taking their time to graze.

"Thanks to the coins you gave me, I had some repairs done to my home. I arranged for workers. Just neighbors of mine looking for work. It's just me and my grandma. But of course, I want to be dry when the rains come."

Ivorie noticed a large hamper, an unusual one, made of wicker and leather. It lay on the ground. It was enormous, the size of a mid-sized sheep.

"I bought lunch." Piers excitedly exclaimed, opening the large woven basket.

"We have two kinds of ham, some roasted hen, and a couple of loaves of bread, I didn't know what you liked so I had wheat and sourdough. There's some bottles of wine, nothing fancy, just what the cook could spare. There's grapes and cherries from the south." Ivorie nearly cried at the mention of grapes and cherries. She had never tasted them before. She eagerly popped a cherry in her mouth, it tasted like sunshine and the sweetest nectar. She took her time, counting the chews to make it last as long as she could. She did the same with the grapes, to her they tasted like promises fulfilled and the tiniest touch of tart.

They sat atop the boulder. It was the perfect day for a picnic, and little did Ivorie know, this was one of the few days that Piers would keep close to his heart for the rest of his life.

"You're hardly eating, milord, are you alright?" Ivorie asked, in between chewing.

"I'm fine. I had an Ornerian cow before coming here." She nodded. She wondered how dragon metabolism worked. It must take an enormous amount of energy to fly. Piers was fascinated at how she ate. At the gusto she tore the bread with her hands.

Everyone at court was obsessed with etiquette. The ladies were always on some diet or another. She burped heartily and muttered.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry milord."

She was wearing the dull brown and green peasant wear that the people of the Western waste were fond of. Brown pants and new leather sandals. A green blouse with cut away sleeves for practicality, plain rough linen. It was more of camouflage, clothing designed to fit in the surroundings.

Piers bit his lower lip to keep from chuckling out loud. No high-ranking female noble would be caught burping in his presence.

"Thank you so much for the food. I'll remember this meal for the rest of my life. Can I bring some to my grandmother, please?"

"Let me help you bring it home if you like. It would be such a bother to carry back to the castle."

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from anything important?" Ivorie asked softly.

"But don't you get it, my dear, to me you are important." He replied in his husky voice, his throat often burnt by fire.

"Tell me more about your grandmother, Ivorie."

Ivorie paused and took a swig of wine from a wooden goblet.

"She was born and raised here. She was my mother's mother. All my other grandparents have moved on to the sky realm. She was a weaver and clothes maker before her eyes went bad. We still have a loom at home. Some say she looked much like me when she was younger. "

"She must have been as extraordinarily beautiful, like you."

Ivorie blushed, shook her head, and looked down at her lap.

"I do apologize if I make you uncomfortable, it's not every day that I meet someone beautiful and hard working, not to mention brave like yourself. Tell me, Ivorie. What would it take for you to come with me to the capital?" Ivorie gulped and looked away. Her throat felt incredibly parched. She reached for her dried animal bladder for some water, which lay right beside where Piers was sitting. He gently grabbed her hand and kissed the work worn knuckles gently. His lips felt warm, like freshly baked bread. He took her hand and gently caressed it with his left hand, his skin felt warm and supple, like lizard skin. He had maroon nails.

"My grandmother. Others have offered me marriage, but they could not, no would not , take my dear sweet grandma Zaphira with me. I can't--" the thought of leaving her grandmother quickly brought Ivorie to tears.

"I can't leave her."

"Hush, beloved, I'll take you with me even if it means bringing the entire town of yours to the castle." He gently reached for her cheek and drew her in. Ivorie half closed her eyes and let him kiss her. He tasted of woodsmoke and high skies. He embraced her and she held him close, he then leant in, he took a deep breath first, leaning in the crook of her neck, as if trying to inhale the very essence of her. He then whispered tenderly in her ear.

"I spent so much of my life, not believing in love, but the minute I saw you, I knew. I can't wait for the rest of my life. Take me and the life I can give you, Ivorie Rayanne."