Chapter 3

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It was as if the snow was never there in the first place. 

Apparently, there were warm breezes all throughout the night, so the snow melted at record rates. By the time Dimentio woke up, the only thing that remained were a few puddles. Seasons seemed to shift in reverse, going from winter to fall. 

Dimentio decided to go outside early that morning. The ground had been frosted over, giving the grass a sparkling glow. He didn't quite understand how the snow could have possibly all melted, yet somehow leave behind that morning layer of frost. 

Some things in life were too complicated to understand, he supposed. There was probably an explanation somewhere, but he didn't particularly feel like finding it. 

He decided to take a walk in the forest instead. He didn't plan on going too far since his legs were still sore but wanted to take the opportunity to explore before the snow came back and made walking difficult again. 

The woods weren't scary when he was with the rest of his team. In fact, the way the trees reached down to him had made him feel like he was walking through a tunnel on a golden path toward a happy place. Now that he was alone, he was starting to feel a little differently. The empty branches were reaching toward him and the wind moved like whispers through the dead shrubs surrounding him.

It wasn't all that frightening, though. He was able to put himself back at ease as his attention shifted to the slightly cloudy sky. The sunlight behind each fluffy white cotton ball up there made them glow. It looked like someone used chalk to draw a golden outline around them. The leaves below him were practically molded to the forest floor, smooth and damp after being crushed by the water and weight of the snow, so they didn't make the faint crunching sound he expected them to as he walked over them. He hadn't noticed the day before, but brown vines hung from each of the trees, like swings. 

It felt like something he would have noticed, but when he looked back through his memories he couldn't see them. 

"Lovely, isn't it?" Count Bleck asked.

"Yes," Dimentio muttered, reaching out toward one of the vines and carefully pushing, making it swing slowly back and forth. He wasn't surprised by Count Bleck's sudden arrival. This seemed like exactly the kind of place the count would go during his own personal time. Yes, the count spent a lot of time working with his team, but he also liked to find calming places to reflect. 

There was silence after that, but it wasn't awkward. One of Dimentio's favorite things about his boss was that while he was good at maintaining a conversation, he was even better at maintaining a comfortable silence. It was something very few people were great at. Sometimes, people would talk and talk just because they feared the silence, but Dimentio enjoyed the quiet. 

The two walked side by side, enjoying the peace that came with the moment. The tranquility was almost overwhelming, like he was being suffocated by it. 

"These remind me of my childhood," Count Bleck breathed, reaching his hand out to the vines as he walked. Dimentio noticed him smiling slightly as each one slipped from his grasp while he continued to walk. "My house was on a hill. There was a big oak tree with large vines growing from it. My father and I made a swing from it. Until that broke. After that, we simply found some rope and made our own swing."

"You made a swing?" Dimentio asked.

"Well, my father did. I wasn't exactly crafty," he laughed. "I tried helping, but was probably just in the way."

The two continued walking as Count Bleck pointed toward different landmarks surrounding them. "When I was about six, I'd jump around on rocks like that one. Until I fell one day. It stung for a few weeks. But the good kind of stinging, you know? My dad helped patch me up. Even now whenever anything starts to sting, I think back to those times."

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