"Why are you following me?" Isla asked while she watched her step. The spirit had a nagging presence, even without sight, she felt the pull.
"I'm bored."
She rolled her eyes. "So you plan to bother me." Isla pivoted, facing the spirit.
"Yes!" She swayed from side to side with glee.
She smirked, the sight reminded her of Leef. "Do what you want." She turned back, heading down the mountain.
From the aerial view, she saw the silverish hues of the transition points rippling above. The forest color morphed from a rich azure to stark grey. She now could grasp the enormity of the first ring and what a bleak mess awaited them. The miasma had shadowed her understanding.
"Looks nice doesn't it," the spirit said peeking around her side.
Isla stopped, glancing at the child's figure. "Are you reading my thoughts?"
"Don't worry, sugar. I can only read the thoughts on the surface. You don't have many do you?"
Isla glared at her declaration but kept her mouth shut. What an annoying brat.
"Hey, hey, what's annoying is the Witch. She lectures non-stop. I guess it's my fault though for only accepting women. So much nagging. You'd think I was a child that needed parental guidance," she huffed.
The spirit dashed ahead, skipping down the steps, her dress swinging in tune. Right, not a child.
Isla paused her thoughts, rewinding the spirit's words. "Why only women?"
She stopped her descent and stared with an unfocused gaze. "The first rebelling Seraphines knew they couldn't proclaim independence without an advantage over the Gods. So they devised a program within their people to converge strong bloodlines. They believed merging families with strong souls producing a wealth of aura could eventually procure a child capable of manipulating the Gods. A woman was the best counter against the King of Gods, someone generally a male."
Aura size was based on birth. How else did one explain the difference between Castions, Centurions, Seraphines and Gods? Still, manipulating the characteristics of the soul was laughable at best. "Impossible."
The spirit giggled. "Funny, isn't it? A strong aura requires a pure bloodline and developing it. In most cases, the weaker potential could trump the gifted. Sadly, the program never succeeded. Instead, they solved the problem with help from an outsider. Well, a Seraphine not by blood. Your mother."
Again, information about her mother surfaced. "What was she?"
"I don't know. Her soul changed colors. I never saw anything like it before. At times a Castion and other times a God. Maybe a butterfly? That's cool. Cool, right?" She grinned before returning to her skip down the stairs.
Isla's brow tightened. What just happened?
Isla watched her wavy locks bounce with each step. An occasional gust of wind twirled them, but by some otherworldly effect, they returned to their exact position and style. The hair drew her attention to the spirit's entire visage. Her petite frame entranced the eyes with a golden shimmer surrounding her. Arcadia's spirit, how could she keep form? Or rather, how did she gain form?
"Your name?"
She twisted her hair and her gaze avoided Isla's. "I don't have one. Never did. Why?"
Isla hesitated but continued her pursuit. "If you're planning to follow me, you'll need a name."
She glanced back, her eyes ablaze. Yet, the spirit shrugged her shoulders and played the excitement down. "Not my problem."
Isla sighed."Fine. Ahni."
The straight-lined mouth withholding her emotions wilted, but from death, blossomed a wonderful smile as a replacement. "Oh! Love it."
Isla grinned at her child-like reaction. An ancient being could still experience fear. What an odd sight.
Their talk quieted as they approached the mountain base, the view expanding. Isla scoured the land, her gaze entrapped by the detailed outline of Varnis. His back rested against a tree. Her eyes widened, the shock overpowering. He waited. Was Layla right about his thirst for money, or did his values surmount the greed?
"Who's that?" Ahni asked, tugging her cloak and pointing at Varnis.
"My guide."
Varnis cocked his head and stood as they neared. He situated his lance, propping the metal on his shoulder. "Who are you?" Varnis questioned, his gaze glued to Ahni.
She giggled but answered. "Ahni."
His scrutiny flickered between Ahni and her. She thought his furrowing brow and narrowed eyes foretold his confusion, but the complexity of his expression differed. He suppressed the desire to question the peculiarities of Ahni's presence. But his hesitation claimed he knew the knowledge held danger and he chose the safer route of ignorance.
"Let's go," he ground out, his voice hard. She observed the taunt jaw muscles before he turned away.
Why was he mad? She thought his aloof attitude would hold. Yet, his control suffered since last night.
They trekked through the forest with Arcadia's spirit. Isla watched her facial nuances alter from mouth gaping to frown as she peered around. Did she not come outside much?
Ahni winked then spoke into Isla's mind. "I have a habit of sleeping for a long time. That's when things change. Like a breath anew, right?"
Isla quieted her thoughts. She conceded the world's freshness and enjoyment. Who knew when the spirit would next abandon this sight for sleep. Ahni embodied this world, but her life existed for all, much akin to a ruler. With her freedom restricted and controlled, a connection existed between Ahni and herself. They resembled each other.
They reached the cave and Varnis barked his orders. "We're leaving. Gather your stuff. Ham help Wolfe."
Slate exited the cave, his cloak disarrayed and displaying the bandages covering his dressed torso. His face lacked color and he grimaced. When their gazes collided, he glared. The insignificant act made her chuckle.
"Who's the girl?" Slate fussed.
Ahni hid behind Isla's leg. Her small grip holding onto the cloak. "I'm not telling a scary man," she retorted and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Ignore the girl, Slate. Let's get the hell out of this forest," Varnis shouted before leading the way.
Slate growled, but swung himself around, his back rigid. "If the trek back is worse, I blame the God," he mumbled before stomping after Varnis.
Ahni grinned her direction, her cheeks burning red. "He's special," she whispered.
"More than special, I'd say an idiot."
They continued their slow journey back and Isla held her concentration. The fightback would be harder. The monsters would smell blood and charge their group. She waited, her fingers itching to wield her blade. When would they attack?
Yet, time garnered no change. No monsters howled their warcry, barreling at them. Instead, a silence blanketed the forest, eerie and uncomfortable. Where were they?
Isla scanned the forest and searched the darkened hideaways. Her senses strained, her expectations high.
Ahni used their connection and spoke, "Honey, you don't have to worry a smidgen. The forest is our friend."
Isla paused mid-stride, returning her intrusion a retort. "Stop talking like that."
"What! How rude. I learned from different people how to talk."
"Yeah, it shows."
Ahni pouted, ending their conversation. She dodged Isla's gaze, hers attuned to the forest.
Still, Ahni addressed her concerns. The forest had not changed, rather they acquired a deterrence. One powerful enough to suppress the ferocious and hungry beasts parading these woods. Yet, her body remained taut and ready, nothing subdued alertness.
Slate broke the silence as they returned to the first ring. "Why's this easy?"
"Maybe the forest likes us now," Ham said.
"Doubtful. More like it's plotting."
"A forest, plotting? You're overthinking this," Wolfe added with heaving coughs between his words.
"Just be thankful," Varnis said while glancing over his shoulder at his crew. "Things can always be worse."
Isla examined the forest floor, watching for roots. She waited, half expecting their whip-like nature to burst from below. But each step further confirmed Ahni's explanation, the Madwood calmed its carnivorous nature.
Their pathway brought them back to the initial transition point. Walking through, the forest smog lifted and the haze burdening her body ended. Her vision cleared and the air lost the musty forest aroma.
"Go on, Ham," Varnis said and turned, staring at Isla. "I expect the payment on my desk by tomorrow, Princess. If not I'll visit your sister myself."
"I'm sure you will. Have fun with that," Isla retorted.
He scowled, but returned no complaint and stalked after his comrades
"So, now what?" Ahni asked, perking up beside her.
"Rest then off to see the Witch."