CHAPTER 11: THE GRAY FOREST

Even though they were making progress toward the Gray Forest, Malia was stuck circling around the same stagnant concerns.

There was no doubt she had believed Gorken’s encouraging words, but she couldn’t stop feeling sick. Every now and then she would smell Sven and Avah’s blood, as if her hands were still soaked in it. She couldn’t bring herself to talk with her companions like nothing had happened, and yet she knew her somber mood was weighting all of them down. Her throat mercilessly choked any attempts to start a conversation before they could manifest. Instead of walking next to Gorken, leading the march, she found herself trailing behind; and each time she noticed it, she tried to pretend everything was normal. She wished for an escape from her spiraling discomfort, but there was no outrunning her chest.

“Malia, I wanted to ask you something.” Gorken’s voice seized her.

“What is it?”

“The magic your brother used was different from-”

“He’s not my brother!” She raised her voice instantly, indignation preventing her from filtering her reaction. And then came the regret; as if being a gloomy presence wasn’t enough, now she was also hostile and on edge. They should dump me in the river and get rid of the nuisance.

“I’m sorry.” Gorken apologized sincerely, “I assumed he spoke the truth.”

“I’m the one who should apologize...” she lowered her gaze, “He has always addressed me as his little sister, ever since we were little, but Cain is not my brother. He’s my uncle’s son.”

“Why does he do that then?”

“No one ever said it out loud, but I think I know why. My uncle wanted me to get used to the idea that the one who would succeed him to the throne would be Cain, not me. I guess that’s why they wanted me to think of him as my older brother.” Malia paused, “Anyway, you wanted to ask about his magic, right?”

 “Yes.” Gorken admitted, “The writing on his hand and the barrier protecting him were like nothing I had seen before.”

“That’s because Cain uses spells.” Malia began, eager to focus on anything other than her mental cage, “In my case I control magic using my will on the spot. When you use spells it’s like…” She peered at the plants, searching for an easy way to put it, “You could compare spells to language. Just as a language helps us grasp ideas by binding them with words, spells give a determined form to willpower. It would be too hard for the mind to conceive certain tasks from scratch without the help of spells. You could think of them as a step by step guide for the user.”

Gorken brought a hand to his chin, “Then why do you do it differently? Normally immortal magicians fight from a safe distance, unlike your hand to hand combat style. ”

“Well…” a long lecture about the advantages of flexible combat tactics and the shortcomings of relying on pre-established, limited spells ran its course inside Malia’s head. She had many logical justifications for choosing her magic, and for listening to her master’s advice regarding it. But what she ended up saying was the simple, embarrassing truth, “…Back when I started training I wanted to be strong like you. You were a capable kid, grabbing knifes and stopping punches… I wanted to be like that. All I wanted was to learn how to fight.” She broke eye contact with Gorken, “Of course, as you witnessed, controlling magic without a spell as a medium can be a problem when you’re emotionally unstable.”

“…I see.” Gorken said. It was rare to see him anything other than composed, but he seemed almost flustered.

Subsequent hours of travel brought them to the outskirts of the Gray Forest. “What should we do now?” Aldous stared upward at the distant tree crowns, “The map doesn’t specify where Kadem’s lair is. Should we explore the forest by sections?”

“That’ll take a long time.” Gorken replied, “We should look for hints of Kadem’s residence… Footprints, cut off trees, zones with edible plants… A life always leaves trails.”

“We shouldn’t sleep in the Gray Forest.” Bayard warned, “Rose always says that those who die lost, stay lost after death. Ghosts might be lurking.”

“Yeah, sure, she also says children who misbehave go bald.” Aldous laughed.

“Exactly.” Malia joined him with a forced giggle, “There’s no need to be afraid of ghosts. Only the living can produce magical energy, after all, so there’s no way they exist.”

Her human friends stared at her silently, already aware of what she had done a lousy job at concealing. To Malia’s relief, Hedera changed the course of the conversation when she talked, “If what you want is to find something in the forest, we can always ask the trees.”

“Ask the trees?” Aldous repeated dubiously, “Since when do trees talk?”

“They don’t, simpleton.” Hedera replied, “But that doesn’t mean they can’t tell us. Licorice, help me out.” The twins held hands and kneeled to caress the roots of a nearby tree, closing their eyes. They stayed motionless for a while, their harmonized breathing compelling the rest of the group to remain equally frozen.

“Strange,” Hedera broke the stillness, “The trees don’t know about anyone living in the forest…”

“However,” Licorice continued, “There’s a place in the woods the trees know nothing about. It’s as if that part of the forest wasn’t even there. It’s quite odd.”

“Then that’s where we will go.” Gorken concluded, “I know little about it, but only magic could do something like making a part of a forest disappear. And we are looking for a witch.” Then he peeked at Hedera and Licorice, “Can you guide us?”

“Yes, we can.” The two voices confirmed.

“How have the tables turned.” Hedera crossed her arms proudly, “Now you’re the ones who need us. You should be grateful we tagged along!”

Ignoring Hedera, Aldous questioned Licorice, “But how could you get that information from the trees?”

“Even with our powers sealed, we’re still demons of the earth. We remain sisters to the forest’s creatures, including the trees and the other plants. It’s only natural we can understand them.”

“But you can’t communicate with fallen demons, right?” Aldous reflected, “How come even though you’re demons you can understand creatures and beings that are not?”

“…How should we know?” Hedera shrugged anxiously, but no one pressed her about it.

They traversed the Gray Forest, stepping deeper and deeper into it. The robust trees restrained the light from reaching the ground, so the terrain before them became darker the more they advanced. Slowly, the vague creeping sensation of being watched came closer to resembling a reality. It was as if the forest had a will of its own, its immaterial eyeballs fixed obsessively on them. In the midst of that shakily founded trepidation, Malia heard a creaking noise behind her. In thoughtless response, she swiftly turned and landed a heavy kick on the source of the noise: a tree.

“Hey!” Hedera was outraged, “Why did you attack that poor tree?”

“I thought I heard something…” Malia excused herself, her face pale.

“It was probably some animal,” Aldous assured her, “we’re in the woods after all. A fallen demon would be more noticeable, and we haven’t encountered any in a while. We must be far from their usual territories.”

“But what if there’s… something there?” she insisted.

“Something?” Aldous raised a teasing eyebrow, “Like what?”

“A squirrel?” Bayard offered.

“Mountain lions are dangerous,” Gorken said, “they tend to show up in forests like this one.”

“That’s not what I mean…”

“What then?” the redhead was struggling to keep the smirk off his face.

Malia was forced to accept defeat, “…A ghost.”

Aldous tried and spectacularly failed to contain his laughter.

“I’m serious!” Malia objected, offended by Aldous’ mockery, “What if they’re real in this place? If Kadem could be here, why not spirits? What would be scarier than a presence you can’t punch nor kick? We’d be helpless against one!”

Aldous’ snickering didn’t relent, and instead grew with every word Malia spoke. “I’m sorry, really,” he managed to sneak a few words into his chuckles, “I don’t know why I find it so funny.”

Malia frowned, frustrated, unable to understand what Aldous found so hilarious. Gorken determined it was time to intervene, “Malia, I get it. But if we assume we can’t touch a ghost, that means they can’t touch us either, correct? So there’s no need to worry about it. That wouldn’t be scary.”

She looked up at him hopefully, and then she nodded, “You’re right!”

“Cute.” Gorken let slip unintentionally.

Malia flinched, not knowing if she felt flattered or insulted by it. Bayard decided to save his leader from the awkward silence that followed, “Boss, you meant Hedera right?”

Hedera glanced at Bayard in agitated confusion, “Why would you say that?”

“What?” Aldous’ chuckles had finally vanished, “I’m sure he meant Licorice. Bayard is mean, Hedera’s too noisy and Malia’s too overbearing. Licorice is definitely the cute one.”

“I appreciate it.” Licorice nodded calmly.

“Sure.” Gorken was eager to end the charade, “Let’s keep going.”

The group followed Licorice’s and Hedera’s lead; the small guides did their best to move forward at a pace appropriate for their taller companions. And yet, there came a point in which they slowed down significantly, eventually halting progress altogether. Hedera grabbed on to a trunk next to her, “I feel ill. As we get closer to that place my legs get weaker, as if something or someone was telling me to stay away. It’s the same for you, right Lico?”

“Yes.” Her sister panted.

“If you feel weak, we can carry you.” Aldous offered, unwilling to demand too much from their tiny allies.

“If it gets to the point where you think you can’t bear it anymore,” Bayard suggested, “then we will stop. We will think of something else if it comes to that.” He then addressed Gorken, “Are you alright with that, boss?”

“Of course.”

Hedera and Licorice complied, grateful for their consideration. Hedera climbed on Bayard’s back, Licorice sat on Aldous’ shoulders.

Not long after that, the thick wooden curtain that enclosed them attenuated, fading into an unlikely clearing. A gigantic tree governed its center, moss and vines clinging to the vast imposing hulk. Its presence was overwhelming, unmovable, as if it had been there since the beginning of time. It might as well have been.

Cautiously, they reduced the distance between themselves and the mighty plant, one prudent step at a time. As their eyes feasted on the earthy monument, they realized a door and windows were engraved on its surface.

Malia dared to walk even closer to it, “Is this… Kadem’s lair?”