Chapter 2 — **Chapter 2**
Seris
SPRING HAD FINALLY COME—LIFE anew, the endless cold rising to a spark of warmth once again.
“Another one gone, look—there!”
I nodded, gazing down at the little faerie as she spoke, her long, sage fingers pointing across the sea of spring’s evening dew at yet another tree in Felgren Forest that had not survived the winter.
“At least we found only six today, far fewer than yesterday, and they don’t all bear the mark of death.”
I tugged at the sleeves of my dress, a sudden chill creeping over me. “In a way, Maelis, they do. Imagine losing all that nurtures your soul. Wouldn’t a piece of you die too? Wouldn’t it change you forever?”
The tiny faerie bowed her head, her fluttering wings holding her aloft. Maelis had been overjoyed at spring’s return, but all I could see was nature trying to forget its own scars.
I wouldn’t forget the brutal winter. It had been long and merciless. Too many ancient trees of Felgren had fallen, their spirits trapped in the silence of death, as the fae elders whispered. I wondered, as we walked back to the Fortress, if the forest would ever heal.
I hoped so.
“Hurry, Seris, or the forest will weave us into its dreams!” Maelis tugged at my dress, her voice lilting with fae whimsy. She zipped ahead, her wings a blur of iridescence in the waning sun, a glint that could ensnare the eye and bewitch the soul.
That’s one talent faeries wield effortlessly. Their beauty and enigmatic smiles mask tricks and games. Maelis was different, though. She had been my companion here for... I couldn’t recall how long. Time slipped through my grasp like mist, perhaps a lingering effect of some forgotten magic or pain. She stood no taller than my knee, yet she was the truest friend, always guiding me through Felgren and back to the Fortress when my thoughts drifted. I stumbled over a root, lost again in half-formed musings—except when it came to the forest. Even in that dreadful winter, I felt Felgren straining to endure, clinging to its essence until sweet spring could breathe life into it once more. The leaves of the swaying trees gleamed viridian in the orange glow of the sun. Birds sang. Spring had come. I closed my eyes, feeling the forest’s spirit embrace me, its magic pulsing through ancient roots as I trod its earthen floor.
I inhaled deeply, easing an unnamed ache, if only for a moment.
We traveled back in silence, likely both attuned to the music of life around us. Maelis spent much of her time in the Fortress with me, but I knew her fae heart belonged in Felgren with her kin.
We took a new path, and I stepped carefully over moss-laden logs, tiptoeing around unfurling ferns, their leaves greeting us. My white, gauzy dress trailed behind as I ducked under a fallen tree. Reaching for balance, my hand brushed something smooth and hard amid the coarse, mossy bark. I stepped back, searching for the oddity. Tucked into the wood—whether forced or placed with care, I couldn’t tell—was something unnatural.
I glanced ahead to see Maelis far in the lead, her wings flickering in the distance, though a fleeting frown crossed her face as she noticed my delay. I couldn’t leave this mystery behind. I pried at the withering bark, freeing an oval stone. Smooth and imperfect, it bore black lines like tree roots etched across its green surface. I traced them with trembling fingers.
As I cradled it in my palm, its chill bit into my skin, sharp as winter’s memory. My pulse raced, as if the forest itself breathed through me. A bond formed—a whisper of a forgotten promise stirring in my chest, both foreign and achingly familiar. A sharp clarity pierced my mind for an instant, and I wondered how I could have ever forgotten—
“Seris!” Maelis called from ahead. “Keep moving, or we’ll be caught in twilight’s snare!”
A warning I’d heard before, but I quickly pocketed the stone and hurried on.
I didn’t tell Maelis of my find as I caught up to her frenzied wings. I wasn’t sure why, but if this stone was a gift from Felgren, I wanted it mine alone. Could I trust even Maelis with this? At least until I understood its weight.
We wove through Felgren’s embrace, the Fortress looming ever closer like a shadow over spring’s light. My heart grew heavy, mirroring the oppressive stone ahead. Dark and brooding, it seemed the source of winter’s cold cruelty, a stark contrast to the living forest. Yet now, with spring’s return, nature pushed back. I noticed creeping ivy winding around the stone staircase, desperate to reclaim what was lost. With a tingle of power warming my fingertips, I urged the ivy onward, feeling Felgren’s will in my own, twisting further toward the Fortress’s ancient walls.
We slipped through a smaller door into the bustling kitchen. The oven’s warmth welcomed me as I snagged a fresh biscuit from the cook’s tray, devouring it in three bites. The cook caught my eye and gave a knowing nod, her gruff silence a familiar acceptance of my quiet presence here.
The Fortress thrummed with unusual energy today, new faces and old rushing through the halls. The new channelers, fresh from their villages, bound by ancient pacts after their Offerings, must be the cause—an urgency tied to some looming ritual, I sensed. The Baron cared little for who did his bidding, so long as it was swift.
He sought something relentlessly, and I steered clear of his path as much as I could. I dreaded his sharp gaze, though I was free to wander Felgren and the Fortress, fed well, kept company by Maelis, and slept in a warm bed with a fire crackling low each night. All Baron Rethan demanded was this daily meeting, perhaps to ensure I wasn’t straying or stirring trouble. I was part of his domain, his responsibility—whether he welcomed it or not.
“How are you today, Seris?”
Always his first question, barely sincere.
He offered a small grin as I shut the door to his study, standing at his massive oak desk, sorting papers, flipping through books, and scribbling notes.
I studied the top of his head as he bent, black hair tied back with a green silk ribbon that complemented his warm, sandy skin.
He glanced up when I didn’t reply, his obsidian eyes piercing mine.
“I am well, thank you.”
He straightened to his full height, barely taller than me, though I stood tall for a woman. “Tell me about your day, Seris,” he muttered, resuming his work.
“Maelis and I walked through Felgren,” I began as always, but an impulse pushed me further. “It’s alive with spring’s light. The leaves waved in the breeze, and crocuses bloom in fields of purple and white. You should see—”
I stopped, realizing I’d stepped closer than usual, my boots silent on the woven floral rug. My nearness startled him; he dropped his papers and quill beside the ink pot. Up close, his features were handsome, though not strikingly so, and he seemed near my age. His jaw tightened as his gaze flickered over me, his expression unreadable.
He sank into his black leather chair, rubbing his mouth as he spoke with deliberate care. “Did Felgren whisper any secrets to you today, Seris?”
His words carried a hidden weight, and my hands itched to clutch the stone in my pocket. I averted my gaze, steadying my breath.
“Nothing, Baron,” I lied, my fingers curling into a fist at my side.
His dark eyes narrowed, watching me closely. It felt like hours passed as we stood, locked in silence—two souls who spoke daily yet said nothing. I knew little of him, only that he brought me here as he did others, consumed by his search. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if the stone weighing my pocket was his quarry. But I nearly scoffed aloud at the thought of mighty Baron Rethan chasing a pebble from a dead tree.
“Baron Rethan, the new channelers await,” interrupted Pompeii, the Baron’s Overseer.
A heavy sigh filled the room as the Baron stood, turning to the floor-to-ceiling window behind him. Sunlight streamed into his study, unhindered unlike elsewhere in the Fortress, catching his sharp features and furrowed brow.
“You may go, Seris. Be careful what Felgren hides from you.”
His cryptic dismissal lingered as I backed away, unable to tear my eyes from his brooding form. Pompeii held the door, gesturing toward the dining hall with a weak smile that never reached his eyes.
“Please, Seris, eat. You look worn from your wanderings.”
The Baron’s gaze clung to me as I fled toward the dining hall, my stomach growling for more than a biscuit. In the entryway, the new channelers huddled in green formal garb, faces weary and nervous. I offered a quick smile and wave, a fleeting wish to ask their names, to hear voices from beyond these walls, tugging at me before I hurried on.
I filled my plate in the dining hall and rushed to my room in the tallest tower. Maelis would join me tonight, filling my head with sunshine before I drifted into the quiet stillness of slumber.
