A Forest On Fire

A Monster

Lydia did not touch the steaming cup of tea that sat in front of her, prettily perched atop a cracked floral saucer. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest; her leg was bouncing anxiously, sending vibrations that made the tea cup rattle gently. Torvald's walking stick rested against the table; the lantern that was affixed to it had been put out, shrouding the room in semi-darkness. The only thing that gave off light was the fire that relentlessly blazed underneath a cauldron of wax. The smell had grown so strong she could taste the sickeningly synthetic, dull flavor of it. It blocked the mélange of other scents that twirled and danced with each other in the air around her- the smell of wet wood, the smell of tea, the smell of fire, the smell of blood.

The blood was her own, of course. She was the only one who had been injured in their flight, but it was a sacrifice she had given countless times before and would continue to give in the future until she had no blood left. It was a strange feeling, being so willing to give yourself up to others like she was. Lydia had never felt it before. It was not some sort of noble abdication that she dug up from the raw core of her heart for the simple action of saving a life. It was more selfish than that, more complex. She did not care for the lives she saved while they fled, neither those of her companions nor the ones of her pursuers.

Since the day she told Elliot about their bond, Lydia had eyes for only one life: Elliot's. She cared only for Elliot, lived only for Elliot. She saved others' lives because she knew that Elliot would think her better for it; if not that, then because Elliot would despair at their deaths. That is the sole reason. If Elliot did not exist, those Lydia knew today may perhaps have been long buried, mourned, and forgotten. She was not bothered by the lack of recognition for her acts; she knew it was not normal to think this way, but she was a monster, after all, was she not? Perhaps it was time to finally live up to what they called her. She was a monster.

 If it had not been obvious already, Torvald had rescued the obstructionists. They had entered quickly. Eliseo introduced himself to Torvald with something like a coalescence of vehemence and vacillation. In total, they had stayed a measly three minutes, and, when they exited, three days had passed. To the hunters, they had vanished. The pursued had no doubt that the hunters stuck around in the forest and were even now keeping a look out for any signs of them. Still, Lydia demanded an answer from Eliseo, who accepted the questions and answered to the best of his ability.

"Eliseo, was it?" She began. "Who are you?"

"Lydia-"

"No!" She shouted at Merlin. "Do you not think we deserve answers?"

"Who are you?" Lydia repeated. "A hunter? What?"

"I am a hunter, Madame, but I do not hunt."

"What?"

"My- how do you say- my objective," Eliseo finally got the word, "my objective is simply to better understand creatures like you. I do not kill them. I learn about them."

"Yes, to then give to hunters so that they may better find ways to kill us. Is that it?"

"Of course not. I do not pass my knowledge on to hunters."

"Nonsense! How did Émile know what I was? He did not know before. Someone must have told him. You were there."

"It was not me, Madame, and that is the truth. For neither did I know you were a kuollaan. It caught me by surprise just as much as it did you by his knowledge of it."

Lydia remembered his whispered exclamation at Émile's revelation. "Suppose I believe you. Why did you help us?"

"It is what I do. I do not kill. On the contrary, I save. In order to join Émile in Fluie, I posed as a high-ranking officer sent from Spain to study the new creature he discovered- this would be you- and surprisingly easily was I allowed in. It was not completely a lie, except for the fact that I am not an officer nor do I work for a division of hunters."