When We Were Eternal | ONC 2021

Chapter Three

3. Curiosity Killed the Cat

A potent stream of words that Vel could've used to describe the wildwoods babbled in her mind.

Hot. Sticky. Damp.

She didn't like it.

She didn't like the way the trees, hanging heavy with curtains of lichen, sprang up around her like monsters of bark and branch. She didn't like how the canopy was so thick, she could only make out shards of twilit sky above her head. She didn't like the way her feet sank in the soft earth below her. She didn't like the fact that her only source of light was the protection charm hanging around her neck.

There was something off about these wildwoods.

It made her skin crawl.

"Just admit it Amaran," Vel said when, at last, she couldn't take the sound of twigs snapping underfoot, "we're lost." 

Amaran slowed his eager trod forward so he and Vel could walk shoulder-to-shoulder. "We're not lost." He assured hesitantly, his eyes darting from corner to eerie corner. "We're just—er..."

Vel folded her arms against her chest, shaking off the chills rippling against her spine.

She cleared her throat and raised a brow. "Lost?"

Amaran drew in a sharp breath from his nose. He replied after a moment of silence, "fine, Vel. You win. We're lost. Happy?" 

"How can I possibly be happy when we're lost?" It came out harsher than she intended.

Amaran threw his hands up in resignation. They'd been dredging around in the wildwoods for almost half an hour now, with about as much sense of direction as a mole above ground. Every tree and shrub looked the same.

No human had ever gotten the chance to map out the wildwoods before. The elves wouldn't dare let them after what had last transpired when humans crossed over into their territory. It only made walking around in the open for any pair of eyes to see all the more daunting.

But, tonight was a night of peace. A night of truce. No one would dare spill blood under the blue moon, lest they risk the wrath of the chesii, the vindictive spirits of the night. Even elves had to be superstitious—right?

Picking her way through a tangle of vines, Vel couldn't help but think of how imbecilic Amaran's plan really was, and how she was the biggest imbecile of them all for letting herself get caught up in it. She'd always known his morbid curiosity would get them both killed one day.

She just never imagined that today would be that day.

Vel's mind ran around in circles. What if Amaran's father woke up? What if the elves cut them down before they could get the chance to run? What if her mother found out she was breaking capital offenses?

The moment anyone in town got ear of the fact Neela's daughter was a criminal, they'd stop buying her charms.  They'd brand her family as ngejat. Cursed. The thought of being thrown out onto the streets, left to fend for herself and comb through garbage scraps like a dog made her stomach churn.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," She groaned, already tasting the bile on her tongue.

Grinding to a halt, Amaran shushed her.

"You're seriously going to shush me when I just—" The rest of her words slipped out of her mouth alongside the Festival treats she'd gorged herself on.

She felt truly sorry for the bush she was emptying her bowels into.

"Do you hear that?" Amaran asked in a hushed voice, his head turning to and fro. A shaking hand stifled the light of the protection charm at his neck.