Cody took a deep breath and peered through the trees. The drooping branches with their silvery green leaves formed a curtain, as they always did. He cast one last glance over his shoulder. A part of him still hoped someone would call him back. But the village square remained empty. No stalls, no musicians — even the well looked like an ordinary well.

No hero is going to step forward and do this for you. You have to do it yourself.
Cody took a step forward, clutching his wand tightly in his hand. Another step. Leaves slid crisply over his left shoulder, which he had angled slightly forward. With his raised arm, he tried to push the dangling tendrils of the branches out of his face.

Another step. And another.

The hanging branches closed behind him. Cody held his breath, his eyes darting from side to side. He had crossed the threshold. Part of him had expected... something to happen. That the branches would wrap around his neck, his arms, or that hostile voices would whisper dreadful things at him.

But the only thing he heard was the cheerful chatter of birds — the same as before he left the village. And the hanging leaves? They swayed gently around him.

Cody gripped the strap of his backpack with his free hand and started walking again. The ground was covered in green moss that muffled his steps. A fresh, earthy scent filled his nose and reminded him of all the hours he'd spent digging in the soil, safe in his herb garden. It felt familiar, reassuring.

Many of the plants and herbs he had tended likely came from this very wilderness. With magic, he had sometimes summoned certain species before cultivating them. He'd learned about them from old encyclopedias, ancient tomes that had belonged to his aunt. Only now did it occur to him — where had the magic pulled them from? Someone else's garden? Were there creatures here that kept gardens?

There were exiles living here, after all. Maybe he'd plundered Orion's garden without knowing it. The boy haunted his thoughts often enough for Cody's magic to be drawn to him.

The realization made his cheeks flush. There was always a trace of magic left behind. What if Orion was furious, if he found out Cody had unknowingly been stealing from him for years? He felt ashamed it hadn't occurred to him sooner. Had he also been able to send things to Orion? Things that could have made his survival easier? Could he send him a message now?

That was better than wandering the wilderness blindly.

As soon as Cody found a patch of forest that wasn't too overgrown, he knelt down and placed his bag in front of him. He rummaged through it for his sketchbook, tore out a page, and grabbed his charcoal pencil.

Hi Orion. This is probably really weird, but I'm on my way to find you and I don't know how to get there. I need your help.
Best,
Cody. (I hope you still remember who I am.) (The boy you kissed at the graduation party.)

"Ugh." Cody scratched it out and started again on a new page. Why had he written that? Orion obviously knew who he was — it had only been five years, and he hadn't lost his memories, as far as Cody knew. Though, who could tell what kind of effect the wilderness had had on him? Maybe his memory was long gone, his mind scattered.

Maybe he was already dead or had turned into a forest creature — with long claws, antlers, and needle-like teeth like the pixies Cody had painted recently.

With a sigh, Cody rubbed his face. There was nothing else to do but try. He wrote the same note again — without the parenthetical additions — and pointed his wand at it. "Bring the letter to Orion," he wrote in the air, then tapped the page with the tip of his wand.

It lifted from the moss, spun slowly in place, then dissolved into a cloud of purple sparkles.

Maybe he should've been more specific. What if the fragments scattered across the constellation Orion? He looked ruefully at his wand. It wasn't a very well-thought-out plan anyway. He could only cast three spells today before his magic ran out — and he was in a dangerous place. Even if Orion did reply, it would be foolish to use up his second spell just to respond.

He wasn't even a hundred meters beyond the village border. He really needed to be more careful.

Cody put away the sketchpad, tucked the charcoal stick into the silver tin his aunt had once given him, and slung his backpack over his shoulders again.

Now he had to watch out not just for hostile flora and fauna, but also for a message that might rise from between the tree roots or flutter down from the branches above.

Cody kept walking until the sun reached its highest point. The curtain-like trees had given way to a much more varied forest. Some trees were tall as towers, with slender trunks swaying in a breeze Cody couldn't feel. Their narrow leaves shimmered like they held a rainbow inside. Other trees were as wide as houses, riddled with hundreds of holes from which fuzzy little creatures with shiny bead-like eyes watched him curiously. He'd found a path by now, one that sometimes led straight through such trees. Others looked far less friendly: there were trees striped black and white, with trunks coiling around each other and long spines jutting from their bark.

Though he occasionally glimpsed strange creatures flitting away — with wings, or horns, or in brilliant colors — he never got a good look. They always vanished too quickly.

The forest was less frightening than he'd imagined, though he kept in mind that maybe he just couldn't see the danger. Perhaps he was breathing in some sinister mist that would start to toy with his mind. Maybe everything looked charming and wondrous to him, but his mind was clouded, and he was unknowingly walking straight into the gaping maw of some monster.

Besides, he'd only been gone from the village for a few hours, and he had no idea how far the forest stretched. No one knew what lay beyond. Maybe nothing at all.

Cody took off his backpack and pulled out a water flask, gulping down several mouthfuls.

He'd brought three with him, but he was already soaked through with sweat. He'd stuffed his cloak into his bag earlier. He was going through his supplies much faster than expected. Luckily, he had seen plenty of streams already. He didn't dare drink the water directly, but with a spell, he could purify it.

Cody pushed himself onward, even though his feet ached. He'd never walked this far in his life, and there was no end in sight. He didn't even know if he was heading in the right direction. But the path gave him something to hold onto — it had to lead somewhere. Could the exiles have formed a settlement?

He couldn't quite picture it. Some of them had committed serious offenses, and others had specifically refused to live in any kind of community.

The ground began to rise. It pushed Cody's already weak stamina to its limits, and his spirits sank as the terrain grew rougher, full of rocky outcrops and steep slopes.

At least height gives you a view of the surroundings, Cody told himself. So he set his sights on the tallest ridge he could see. It meant leaving the path — he had to wrestle his way up through tough grass and detour often to avoid grasping bramble bushes.

At the top, Cody was dizzy from the climb. He leaned against a large boulder, panting heavily. His shoulders ached from the weight of his pack, which he dropped beside him.

Slowly, he caught his breath. He took another gulp of water — and choked it out violently when he looked around and saw something coming up over the edge of the hill.

For a moment, he thought it was a pile of rocks — but the pile moved. It even let out a high-pitched shriek and slipped.

With a louder cry, the creature tumbled out of view.

Its scream sliced through Cody. He ran to the edge. Six meters below, the stone creature lay flailing on its back. One of its legs had landed higher up, on a ledge, and deep cracks spread across its brittle body.

Cody gaped at the creature, mouth open. It whimpered and tried to push itself upright, but with only one arm and one leg, it couldn't.

Cody bit his lip. It didn't look dangerous — and it was clearly more scared of him.

"Sorry!" he called down nervously. "I'll come help you!"

Cody had never climbed anything more complicated than a staircase. He braced himself and slowly made his way down the slope. Not in a straight line, but in a wide zigzag, picking the safest route he could find.

His heart pounded hard. Was the creature even still alive? Was it made entirely of stone, or just on the outside? Could it bleed?

The tension made his stomach churn, and he quickened his pace. Almost there—just around this boulder and he should be there. A few moments later, he found the unfortunate creature, still lying on its back, clawing at the air.

Cody knelt beside it. The creature was about his size. It truly seemed to be made of stone—there was no way he could lift it on his own.

"Hi," Cody said uncertainly, placing a hand on its shoulder in hopes of calming it. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to startle you. Is there anything I can do to help? Are you hurt?"

At once, the creature stopped moving.

From deep grooves, two grass-green eyes stared back at him. "You—you want to help?"

"Yes, of course." He bit his lip. "If I can, that is. I'm not very strong." His gaze swept over the battered body. It really did seem to be made entirely of stone, though it was largely covered in moss. Some cracks had even been plugged with it.

"Um, well... it would be nice if you could fetch my leg. It broke off halfway down the slope. And my arm..." The creature slowly pushed itself upright and tried to look around. Then it sighed. "That one's shattered into at least five pieces."

"I saw your leg. I just don't know..." It had been lying on a ledge. Even if Cody managed to get up there, he had no idea how to get it down without letting it fall. And then it might crumble completely. As always when faced with a problem, his thoughts went to his wand. "What's your name?"

"Moss."

"Moss," Cody repeated with a smile. Fitting. "I'm Cody." Wanting to phrase things carefully, he asked, "What kind of creature are you, if you don't mind me asking? I... I'm new here."

The line-shaped mouth moved. A few small stones tumbled out. "I'm an ogre."

An ogre. That didn't mean much to Cody, but it didn't matter for summoning magic. He considered his phrasing—no more than fifty letters allowed—and wrote in the air: reattach leg and arm to Moss the ogre.

A soft pink glow spread from the wand, trickling over Moss's body like a stream of water. Then the light shot away, zigzagging across the slope. Pieces of stone floated up and drifted toward them, aligning into place. Moss wriggled into the gaps until the ogre's body was whole once more.

Moss sat up. Grit slid down his cheeks, and it took Cody a moment to realize the creature was crying.

"No one—no one's ever done something like this for me."

Before Cody could respond, two stone arms crushed him in a tight hug.

"Anyone else would've laughed at me—stupid Moss, scared of a human."

The stone pressed painfully into Cody's ribs. He could only manage a muffled groan.

Moss quickly released him and bowed his head. Lacking a neck, his whole upper body bent forward. "I'm in your debt. Forever." He placed a rough hand over a crack in his chest. "Tell me what I can do for you."

Cody ran a dazed hand through his curls. That was... dramatic. "Forever's a long time," he muttered. "But I'm looking for a, um... friend. Orion." Hope flared in his chest, though he feared it might be snuffed out any second. "Do you know him?"

He held his breath, waiting for Moss's reply.