Curselock

Chapter 98: Forest

Under the guise of a trickster moon, the dungeon transformed into a mystical wonderland. Tall trees stood against the dark night, highlighted from above like performers on a stage. The trees, naturally random as they were, acted as guardian statues protecting the final depths of the boy’s journey.

It was only through an unassuming cellar door behind King Everald’s massive throne that the group entered what could only be described as the next task. First was the ice fields, then the Ice Castle, and now a twilight forest thick with glowing mushrooms and flickering fireflies.

It was Gelo and Jude who led the pack, the cub and young human dozens of steps ahead of Leland, Glenny, and Floe. They conversed quietly, Jude speaking jokes and words of encouragement to the saddened Gelo.

Yet none of the boys could keep up with their conversations when they entered the enchanted forest. The deeper they walked, the more magical the night became. Through the leaves and branches, illusionary pockets of mana danced. Some were dim, others as bright as a lantern, either way, the forest was alive and profound.

They wandered along the snow blanketed moss covered ground, a simple pathway leading away from the exit into the castle. They passed the occasional mundane animal, rabbits, squirrels, speckled white doves, especially as they skirted around a babbling brook. The group stopped and watched a circle of fist-sized toads hop in and out of the water, each croaking in anticipation of the wispy mana overhead.

All at once, the forest went silent, everything ceased, everything stilled. The fireflies went dim, the toads stopped their song, the gentle wind ended its assault on the leaves and branches. Then, like it wished to keep its secret, the moon disappeared from the sky, taking the darkness along with it. A heartbeat later, a glistening sun took its place.

The fireflies took their cue, ending their strobing lightshow with a much needed nap. The Glowing mushrooms slowly fanned out, soaking in all the light they could. The birds, squirrels, and rabbits ran to their families, bringing back their nightly harvests. Worms, nuts, and berries respectively. Finally, the toads moved on, the colorful mana drifting between the trees having disappeared with the moon.

In the mana’s place, however, was the occasional fairy. They were about the size of a hummingbird, yet didn’t steal nectar from flowers. They hovered within the leaves or around the mushrooms, tending to the forest like miniature gardeners attempting to prune their home in line with some bizarre standard.

The boys couldn’t figure it out. The fairies buzzed around the foliage with an agenda, one that looked like nothing more than random. The closest one carved into the bark of one of the tall trees, scratching away the layers until the tree looked broken and battered. It then meandered over to a set of weeds growing from the water’s edge, yanking only the widest blades before returning to the tree. It then smeared the weeds into the mangled portion of the tree. Finally, like a child painting a wall, the fairy snickered to itself, wandering off to create more mischief.

“Pests,” Floe muttered to herself. “Always tearing up my den. No matter how many times I remove them, they just reset a night later.”

The mother bear let out a low, disconcerted growl. Mana and magic blossomed through the snow-covered dirt, taking hold of the white powder like a magnet to metal shaving. Floe then flicked her front paw, sending all of the snow in the forest up. The snow around her daughter and the boys flumed up like confetti while the snow around each and every fairy shot up like a cannon blast.

Through the beauty and wonderment of a sudden deluge of delicate flakes, muted cries of death sounded. When the first of the snow returned to the ground, the fairies were all dead, returning the forest to a proper state. The boys hardly noticed, the snow playing tricks on their minds. They didn’t mind the cold, they didn’t mind the knowing thoughts in the back of their heads.

They were happy to lose themselves in the soft rolling mounds of white that piled on their feet. Seeing a landscape transform almost instantly from night to day was one thing, seeing that landscape instantly recreate itself in a swirl of magic and awe-inspiring power was something else entirely. The world was beautiful, it was deep, it was extensive, it wasn’t all monsters, mayhem, and murder.

Shoutwell, the Onryos, Frostford, poachers, everything came back to the boys. Being an adventurer was a difficult life. It was dangerous, hard, and trying. Yet, in this moment, surrounded by sleeting magic and in the company of two mythical creatures, it was all worth it.

Helping those in need was always worth it to the boys. They protected those they could even if the situation was dire and deadly. While those they saved would be thankful for their work, at the end of the day, their faces blurred as time passed. Sure, there would always be those that stuck in their minds, but here, in a magical forest, the true memories formed.

Those of life, of the slow times between the battles and heartache. They were a reminder that the boys were human. It was fine to take it slow sometimes. It was fine to breathe, to simply watch the world snow for a bit.

Their lives were dangerous, but the beautiful memories got them through it.

“Gelo,” Jude whispered. “I’m sorry about your father. Would you tell me about him?”

The cub, tears still in her eyes, turned to her best-human friend. She didn’t want to talk about her father, yet the words spilled from her snout like water from a waterfall. She rattled on and on about small things they would do together. How she would try to stop him from snoring when she was really tired. That he loved watching the fairies destroy the forest even if Mother hated it.

In the end, even Floe was listening to Gelo speak. She never interrupted, she never changed the facts. She just listened and took Gelo’s words to heart. As much as their short time in the forest had created a memory for the boys, it had created an equally powerful one for the two intelligent bears.

As her reminiscing ended, Gelo was oddly thankful that she was able to speak about her Father again. Her memories of him were hard to think about, but they sure felt good to recount.

Sadly, the moment was cut short as a guttural growl befell the forest. Trees shook their excess snow, losing the powder with the occasional green leaf. The fauna ran at the sound, ducking into their hidey holes, taking off to higher branches, or swimming deep into the nooks and crannies of the stream.

Of the group, only Gelo froze with fear.

The boys, however, adopted fighting stances. Jude took his battle axe from his hand tattoo, Glenny forged two long crimson blades that flouted slightly at the tips, and Leland set his grimoire out and open. Floe, meanwhile, breathed deeply.

Then, the ground began to rumble in a slowly speeding up rhythmic pattern. Soon the whole forest shuddered under the weight of distant steps, only for the dull galloping to boom against the silence. Trees began to fall with the sound, cracking under the unrelenting force that barreled toward the group.

“Father…” Gelo whimpered as Floe stepped forward.

The bear in question stormed through the maze of trees, finally allowing itself to be seen. Gelo’s father looked remarkably like her mother, besides a few slight details. While her mother’s fur was fully incorporated with ice, her father’s was only frosted over. Her back neck and back were level and even while his were humped and enlarged. He only saw red while she looked on with sorrow and guilt.

The snow around Gelo’s father flickered slightly, turning off blue. The flakes rose slightly, then, without any recourse or ceremony, Gelo’s father was gone.

Glenny, who had the best eyesight out of the group besides Floe, briefly saw a streak of red before the snow shifted again. He blinked, finding only white and blue. Reeling back slightly, he looked to the others, finding pensive expressions. If the others saw the blood, they didn’t mention it, so he didn’t either.

Silence reigned supreme in the forest as everyone came to terms with what just happened. Slowly the mundane animals exited safety and resumed their lives. The boys looked at Gelo, who was staring off in the distance quivering slightly. Jude sat with her, petting her clean fur with slow soft swipes.

Eventually Floe exhaled and said, “Gelo, my love, how about you show our friends our den?”

Gelo perked up at the question before slowly nodding. She trudged through the snow and trees, leading the group. Day turned to night about an hour into their walk, bringing forth plenty of pockets of mana and glinting fireflies. Another hour later, night turned to day, bringing back the fairies which Floe promptly dispatched.

All in all, the day night cycle repeated three more times before the group arrived at a great sloped hill.

“Welcome to our home,” Gelo said, never stopping her stride as she walked into the darkness of a cave.

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