The Land Set Aflame

Chapter 62: The Childhood Friends

With moods freshly somber again, the group continued grimly into the tainted Forest of Mellesh. The smoke and pallor grew thicker, filling the air and their lungs with an uncomfortably cold burning sensation.

Svenden could barely maintain his sense of direction in all this gloom. He just kept walking, reasoning that Myndrith wanted them to find her, so she would make sure they got there. Of course, he knew to expect another trap or set of guardian monsters along the way, so his bow was ready at all times and his eyes were keenly searching the area.

Before they knew it, the darkness had become absolute, and even Kithana's flames weren't casting light much further than a couple paces ahead of them.

"Stay close," he said to the rest of the group, even though they were clearly already doing that. After all, he was essentially the team's de facto leader, and it was the leader's job to say things, even when the team already knew them.

Of course, some things were harder to say than others. His mind kept coming back to the things he couldn't bring himself to say to Callyndia. Like, how could he ever trust her? He couldn't even trust himself.

But he suddenly heard a gasp beside him, and he instinctively stopped to look back. "What is it?" he asked.

"Nothing," Callyndia said, "I thought I saw something. That's all."

He nodded. "We're all expecting some magical trickery, right?" he asked, "We all know Myndrith is going to try something like that on us, so be ready for it."

He could see a very faint, purplish glow coming from Leofric's eyes, signalling that the scholar was scanning the darkness for magic. Svenden knew he would be seeing a lot of it, because he could feel it crawling against his own skin.

Svenden turned back to the front, and nearly gasped when he saw a figure standing a few paces ahead of them. It was a young woman with long, brown hair and big, dark eyes.

"Myndrith?" Callyndia said from behind him.

Svenden looked briefly back at Callyndia, and when he turned back again, the figure of the young woman was gone.

"What was that?" he asked, "More magic?"

"It was Myndrith," Callyndia said as she stepped forward to examine the place where the young woman had been standing, "When she was younger. An illusion, I'm sure. But it means she must be close."

She looked out into the darkness. "Myndrith?" she called out, "I know you're here. We don't want to fight: come out and talk to us."

Another apparition appeared out of the darkness, this one showing two young girls carving a message into a large rock and giggling. One of the girls was undoubtedly Callyndia, with her bright red hair and that unmistakable smile. The other was Myndrith.

Svenden couldn't help himself: he craned his neck to see if he could determine what message they were scrawling. He was disappointed to see that it was written in fairy script, and he couldn't read it.

The apparition faded again.

"Was that some sort of answer, Myndrith?" Callyndia asked, "I remember those days, too." She laughed nostalgically. "You were my best friend."

A voice came out of the darkness, ubiquitous, yet also quiet and unassuming. "Of course I was," Myndrith said coldly, "Your mother made sure of that, didn't she?"

Svenden studied Callyndia's face for a moment, watching as confusion crawled its away across her expression. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Dryads don't usually have childhoods, Callyndia," she said, "You know this. They usually spring fully grown from the kallaw. But I was a little girl, just like you. Just like Alloria Rosa's precious daughter."

Another apparition emerged, this time of the same little brown-haired girl, this time stepping out of a circle of vibrant vegetation — a kallaw — and examining her arms and face in wonder.

"We've talked about this," Callyndia said, "You came directly from the Spirit World, and I came from a fairy's womb. We were both born weird, and we were meant to be friends, to grow up together."

"You mean, I was meant to be a friend for you," Myndrith corrected her, "You don't know what it was like, growing up in this forest by myself while you spent most of your time in the courts with all your human friends and your family."

"You were friends with lots of other dryads and twillies," Callyndia said, "You weren't alone!"

Apparitions of twillies and dryads faded into being around them, and the young Myndrith watched them from a distance, sad and alone.

"Dryads don't know how to deal with children!" Myndrith replied, "And twillies are hardly stimulating company! I was alone, Callyndia. You were my only friend. And you were gone most of the time."

"I had responsibilities!" Callyndia replied, "It's not my fault! If I'd had my way, I would have spent all my time in Mellesh. But, I'm as much human as I am nymph! I had to be in both worlds!"

More images came by, of Myndrith sitting alone on the rocks at the Quarro Creek crossing, or standing in tall grasses and looking on mournfully as Callyndia rode off on horseback, waving over her shoulder.

There was a little twinge of that ember in Svenden's heart again, like it was growing again. Looking at Callyndia's face, he could see the anguish written there. But he didn't have to see it: he could feel it in the throbbing ember in his heart.

"If we were meant to be friends for each other, we should have been together all the time," Myndrith said, "But, if I was simply there for your benefit... well, my loneliness didn't matter, did it?"

"Myndrith!" Callyndia said sadly, "I... I don't know what you want to me say! I'm sorry, I... I clearly didn't take your feelings into account, but... it wasn't my choice! I didn't— I couldn't..." She sighed in frustration.

Svenden stepped forward and reached out a hand to touch Callyndia's shoulder, to comfort her. She looked back and smiled a sad smile at him, reaching up with her own hand and laying it on top of his.

"I bet you wouldn't have abandoned him the way you abandoned me!" Myndrith said, her voice suddenly sounding loud and venomous, "You would have chosen him over me!"

Svenden thought about protesting that claim, but he quickly thought better of it: the last thing Callyndia needed to hear was two people she cared about fighting over whom she'd treated worse.

And now, watching how the drama was playing out on Callyndia's face and in her mind, all Svenden felt was guilt. He turned around to speak up, but was suddenly met by a searing pain in the small of his back, as wicked talons dug in out of nowhere.