Page 2 of The Songbird & the Forest

Chapter 3

Dahlia set out the next morning with her pack crammed full and Fluffy stuffed into a saddle bag by her leg. She had raised her horse this morning, the bones clicking together slightly as she urged it into a canter. As they made their way up the winding paths of the deep valley that contained the Dead City, she supposed she ought to give the horse a name. Raised beings experienced their second lives as a continuation of their first, so Dahlia always treated them with the same courtesy she gave to all living things.

“What do you think about Jack?” She asked. The horse tossed its head and grunted. She took that as a no.

“Alright, no to that then. How about Misty?” At that, the horse gave an enthusiastic neigh. “Great, Misty it is. Misty, this is Fluffy,” the cat gave a tiny mew from the saddle bag. Dahlia had no idea how the creature made noise without vocal cords, but who was she to question her own magic? “And I’m Dahlia. We’re headed to Ichorna, so we’re going to be together for quite a while.”

The horse didn’t respond. It was just as well. Dahlia had been talking to Fluffy for years—she had grown used to rather one-sided conversations. She seemed to have plenty of words for all parties involved.

Dahlia and her creature friends soon crested the ridge that concealed the rest of the world from the view of the Dead City’s residents. The sun felt brighter here somehow, and the rest of Daosbor sprawled out in front of them. It was a densely forested land, nearly always shrouded in mists. Other than the few strange, barren valleys where the necromancers built their cities, Daosbor was rather flat. She couldn’t wait to see the rest of Domhan na Rùin.

Daosbor sat nearly at the southern end of Domhan na Rùin, and Ichorna sat almost all the way to the north. She would have to pass through Wellsah first, then make her way around the inland Vaporiad Sea and through Illathir before crossing into Ichorna. She couldn’t wait.

* * *

A week on the road hadn’t dimmed Dahlia’s excitement. She had just crossed out of Daosbor into the eternal summer of Wellsah, and every moment brought a new sense of wonder. She hadn’t passed many people on the road, but those who did see her atop her skeleton horse gave her a wide berth. Daosans were not reclusive like some of the peoples of Domhan na Rùin, but necromancers didn’t particularly have the reputation of being pleasant.

There were, of course, certain necromancers that were cold and harsh, but she was not one of them. She knew people assumed things about her because of her necromancer’s black garb and her skeleton friends, but she was excited for the opportunity to prove them wrong with her glowing personality. She would do her nation proud and—most importantly—would not give the other members of the court reason to regret choosing her.

Dahlia was enjoying the sun on her face, eyes closed, when they suddenly lurched to a stop. Her eyes flew open to find Misty had wandered to the banks of a lovely flowing stream and had bent to take a drink. Curious since Misty was only a skeleton…She supposed old habits die hard. She did nothing to dissuade the horse but instead surveyed her surroundings.

The clearing around the stream was lovely and bright, and the air felt alive somehow. The scents of moss and fresh water filled her nostrils. Graceful willows bent their boughs over the water at intervals, and a bit further back from the bank, great oaks, elms, and pines filled the space.

One smaller tree, likely a sapling, caught her eye, and she studied it for a long moment. Strange—it almost appeared to have shoulders and…a face? No, certainly, it was a trick of the light playing through the canopy of leaves overhead.

Misty raised her head—apparently done with her pretend drink—and Dahlia couldn’t help but steer her steed in the direction of the strange tree. Only, when she raised her gaze to it again, it was gone.

Goosebumps prickled her arms. Surely, she was just looking at the wrong spot. She searched all around her, turning Misty this way and that, and Fluffy mewed a protest at the spinning from his spot in the saddle bag. Each way Dahlia turned, though, the small tree did not appear.

Determined now to find it, if only to prove her own sanity, Dahlia guided Misty off the path and into the woods.

The sunlight of the clearing dimmed as they went further into the forest, and the air felt instantly cooler. This did not do anything to lessen the trepidation Dahlia felt. It was ridiculous—she was a fully trained and talented necromancer. She was not defenseless…but she wasn’t the bravest of souls either; she frightened rather easily for someone who could raise the dead.

The trio made their way deeper into the trees, and the sapling did not appear. Dahlia sighed in frustration but froze when she heard a distinct rustle of brush close behind her.

Her blood ran cold, and she whipped her head around to see the source of the noise—but nothing was there. She slowly turned back and felt every nerve ending in her body light up in terror at the creature that stood a few feet in front of Misty. It sounded like the creature was speaking, but Dahlia’s scream of surprise was already halfway out of her throat, and she couldn’t make out their words.

Misty bucked at Dahlia’s scream, and she lost her grip on the reins. Dahlia’s mind could barely even process the sensation of falling before it stopped; she felt bark beneath her fingers, and she heard Misty’s hooves stamping the ground anxiously nearby. Fluffy let out a loud yowl from the saddlebag, and Dahlia opened her eyes, bracing herself to find the creature looming over her.

And it was looming over her—only she was in its arms. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked up and took in its face for the first time. It was…the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

4

Chapter 4

Ilex couldn’t believe the mess they had thrown themself into. Standing out in the open and staring at a human was bad enough, but approaching? And startling them enough that they fell off their horse? And catching them in their arms? Ilex wasn’t sure what they had been thinking. This wasn’t like them—they didn’t interact. They observed.

But something about this human had been arresting. The way they had tilted their face into the sun as if it was the greatest, simplest joy—it reminded them of how it felt when the sun was on their own face.

Ilex blinked down at the creature in their arms—it was small. They supposed they had better break the silence; the poor thing looked as if it would implode in terror.

“Hello there,” they said as gently as they could manage.

The human’s eyes widened even further somehow, apparently astonished that Ilex possessed the ability to speak.

“Hello,” the human responded. Its voice was lovely. Light and melodic like the song of a bird.

“My name is Ilex. What should I call you?”

---