blinked, each movement of his eyes growing slower. A few seconds later he was asleep again. And still, through the remaining hours of the night, Emma watched.
5: The sounds of the forest
A bright morning sun greeted Jim as he woke from his restless sleep. The fire’s glow was low, merely embers surrounded by smoldering ash and charcoal. And the girl, Emma, was gone.
Jim rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t blame her for leaving. A person traversing the forest obviously had a destination in mind. It was only natural for her to be on her way the moment the dangers of the night were banished.
Jim got to his feet, stretching dramatically as he prepared to leave his comfortable shelter. He took inventory of his weapons, patting at hidden places in his cloak and shirt where knives lay unseen. Everything seemed in order. Emma hadn’t robbed him in his sleep. A lifetime ago he would have offered a prayer of thanks for this good fortune. But now, he shrugged off the welcome happenstance and exited through the boulders.
A vibrant world stretched in every direction. A lush maze of trees and bushes helped conceal the little shelter from peering strangers. That was exactly why Jim had built it here, years ago. The walls were strong, good for protection against the elements, and the foliage was thick, good for protection against the living. It was one of the many pieces of paradise that had kept him safe through the long winters.
“Oh, you’re up.” A voice sang from Jim’s left. He turned slowly, recognizing the melodic tones from his brief conversation the night before.
Emma stood near an outcropping of trees. She was holding her cloak like a basket between her outstretched arms. A smile threatened the corner of her mouth. She’s not sure if she made the right choice by staying. Jim offered a smile at the cautious look, attempting to ease her inner quarrels into a sense of delight.
The girl walked forward, a pleasant expression now radiating from her face. “I was hoping to have a rabbit or two for breakfast this morning. But,” she gestured at her cloak, “this will have to do.” She opened her arms revealing the contents she held: a handful of black berries, wild mushrooms, and one crisp apple.
The duo sat, sharing the crunchy berries and earthy mushrooms. Emma threw the apple into the air and, in a swift motion, sliced it in half with her rapier. She caught the halves and handed one to Jim, a boastful quiet speaking for her while they ate.
“I need to thank you.” Emma broke their silent, happy eating. “You could have killed me yesterday or left me to die in the night. But….” She stared intently at the ground, drawing circles in the dirt with her boot. “Thanks.”
Jim nodded. He understood the confusing circumstance that brought them here. It was always peculiar acts that made enemies turn into allies.
“How is your arm?” Jim asked. The bandage he had placed around her was peeking out from under her shirt collar.
Emma rubbed at her shoulder. “Barely more than a scratch, really.” Her smile faltered. “I suppose I’m lucky, because most Heroes wouldn’t have left me an arm to bandage.”
The truth of the statement made everything still. Emma’s words rippled through the world, hushing the wind and halting the trembling trees. Most Heroes saw humans as a necessary nuisance, mere stones to be trampled on by the boots of their betters. It wasn’t uncommon for a Hero to cut a man down for less reason than a squinted look.
Jim’s thoughts wandered into the forest, thinking back to that perfect place with its perfect people. A place he had called home through his childhood. Home, until She shattered the facade. Her eyes were green too, emeralds in a sea of gold.
Emma tapped Jim’s shoulder, waking him from his daylight memory. “Did you hear me?” Jim’s face remained blank in expression. “I said, it’s time I get moving. There are only a few good hours of light left.”
“Right.” Jim stood, shaking the dullness from his mind that he often got when reminiscing.
“I suppose you’ll be heading back to Paradise?” Emma’s eyes brightened at the name of the Hero city.
Every human wondered at what majesties lay hidden inside the ancient city of the Heroes. Jim had heard all the rumors: there was no hint of disease, fields of fresh fruits stretched beyond what the eye could imagine, every person who drank from the Ever-Flowing Fountain gained life eternal. So many wonderful stories, so many disappointing realities.
“No.” The firmness in Jim’s voice erased the childlike wonder from Emma’s eyes.
“So, where will you go?”
"Salix.” Jim replied.
“Salix?" Emma paused, looking suddenly shy and uncertain. "Could…could I travel with you? Just for a time? I've got a camp in the West; their waiting for me and…well, I'm already late." She stared again at the circles she had drawn in the dirt. "Traveling with a Hero is sure to be faster than going alone."
Jim thought. It would be nice to have someone who could watch his back while he slept in the punishing forest. Plus, he felt partially responsible for Emma’s safety. If she were to be killed due to her injured arm Jim would carry the blame wholeheartedly.
So, seeing his choice mingle with guilty responsibility, Jim said, “Alright.”
The pair finished their portioned breakfast, packed their few loose belongings, and began their journey through the woods.
▫ ▫ ▫ ▫ ▫ ▫ ▫ ▫
Emma spoke of the destination. She had friends waiting for her near the edge of the forest. Apparently, she had lost track of time, and a good amount of coin, at a tavern in the city of Snow and decided to make up the time by cutting through the ancient woodland.
The way she spoke of her party made Jim think of family. Each of them had history and sacrifice that resulted in a tight knot of emotion, strong enough to withstand ages and arguments. They were in no way related, but that didn’t stop the group from gathering together each month for drinks and songs.
Emma assured Jim that he would be welcome to stay until the festivities ended. They would all part ways, each going to a different corner of the Protected Lands. But, once the month came to an end, they would gather again and speak of the ever-interesting lives they all sought.
When Jim asked where Emma intended to travel, she shrugged her shoulders and watched as the treetops swayed. She stayed silent for a while, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, before saying, “Wherever Life wants me.”
Jim closed his eyes, listening as the wind rustled leaves and soared through the vast forest. It sounded different here. In the cities the wind always carried a hint of dread and disdain. But here, it sang of relief and joy. It sang of touching the highest clouds and playing on the limbs of towering trees. It sang of freedom.
Jim had been listening to the wind his entire life. Its song was too beautiful for him to ignore. He had followed it over a wall and through a deserted plain. He had shivered on the snow-covered peaks of the Eastern Mountains and swam through the Life-Giving Lakes, searching for dragons and other fairytale creatures – all just to follow the direction that the wind had whispered as it flew past his listening ears.
They walked in silence for a while. Neither
