song of the forest ♪ [OLD VERSION]

ꏂ꒐ꍌꁝ꓄

ρ͢σ͢ѵ͢:
ꋬꇙ꒐ꁴꋬ

I sat on the ground next to Riven for a moment, catching my breath and running through what had happened that day in my head. We were moving again. Riven was awake. We were fine. Riven's hand was healing. We were well on the road to the Fetters– a chain of cities that would hopefully shelter us on our way to the Sanctum. We were fine.

The fire shot along the wood I'd gathered– I'd made sure to gather types of wood that I remembered to be flammable. My limited knowledge of the woods around here came from shining dew-covered midnights when I ran wild with friends, exploring and learning the whole way. There was something haunting about being here again, being able to feel the texture of coilgrass on my skin instead of running my fingers over rough, faded parchment drawings in the confinement of the Misura's hall.

I shook myself out of my reverie and pulled what was left of Bill's freebie box from my backpack and tossed two chunks of unidentifiable excess meat (Bill's scraps were always the best) on two of the rocks I'd circled up to make a firepit. "Riven." He shook himself out of his own stupor. "We're heading for the Fetters. It should take us all tomorrow to get through the Blind City. The next day we can get through the rest of the Fetters– none of the other cities are as big as The Blind City."

Riven looked at me like I was crazy. "...What?"

"The Fetters is a chain of cities– hence "fetters"– that we need to pass through to get to the Thicket." I said, putting a little extra emphasis on The Thicket, hoping to drill into Riven's head that he was doing nothing close to turning himself into the Fai Widow.

He frowned. "B-"

"Nope. We're going to the Thicket Sanctum, and then we'll figure out the Fai situation. Rationally. No recklessly turning yourself in, kay?"

He didn't answer. I bit my lip and flipped over a chunk of sizzling meat. "Do you know how to set up a tent?" I said, pivoting the subject.

Riven heaved himself to his feet. "Yeah. Why?"

"There's one in my bag. In the little-" I gestured vaguely. "Thing. The canvas. Magic. I don't know, just find it." I turned back to the fire, my face heating. I heard Riven rifle around in the backpack for a second.

"Is this it? Because it seems kind of small-" he finally said.

"Magic." I said simply, trying to forcibly sink my own simple explanation into my mind. I didn't want to think about the price that had gone into a simple magic tent or the fact that I'd stolen it from the Misura. "You should be able to just-" I made a swishing motion with my arms.

Minutes later, there was a tent set up and the meat was significantly more well done. It almost felt like I was a kid again, until Riven sat down beside me and I was reminded that I was older now. I would never get those starlit fantasies drenched in moonlight and dreams again. It was over, and I needed to block it out. "We leave at sunrise." I said, attempting to pivot my reminiscence to explanation, something I was skilled in. But I was also skilled at reliving those nights of heightened emotion and what had seemed like free magic. My first bite of meat brought all that back in a rush of vivid colors and flashes.

"Yeah." Riven let out a breath. "No sleep for me."

"You're going to sleep. In about ten minutes. And you're going to change," I added pointedly. "I mean it. No dying on my watch."

Riven looked away. "Okay," he mumbled.

"Look, I'm sorry. But I need you to take care of yourself. Okay?" I said softly. Then I realized how sappy it sounded. "If you die, it would be bad for the mission."