Page 6 of Deliverance

An iris plant itself is quite delicate, and the single stalk grows tall, only for the petals to open wide and display an extravagant mix of colours. I have always thought the iris flowers themselves look triumphant, as though they have opened their arms wide to embrace the world, not caring that there will be hard times ahead. I wish I was that way, boldly stepping into the unknown despite appearing delicate.

The manicured beauty of my garden is not lightening my mood. My soul feels like it is disconnected from the rest of me, wild and raging as it tries to find a way out of the confinement of my body. No, there is only one place that helps when I feel like this—the forest.

It is forbidden, and anyone seen entering or exiting is either possessed or a traitor to the human race. Fae and beastly creatures roam freely among the sentient trees. Most humans who enter will never return, and no one within their right mind would freely wander into the woods. You can feel the otherworldly sense of power and old magic. It is evil.

At least, that is what we are told.

I have been in the forest many times over my lifetime. Sure, I have had a few close encounters with unusual creatures, but overall, it is a place that fascinates me. Where most of the village sees foreboding trees and hidden dangers, I see new places to explore and plants that thrum with life. When I am in the forest, I feel energised, as though that is where I am supposed to be. Returning to the human lands always leaves me feeling drained.

That is what I need now, to let out some of the wild energy in my soul that is not accepted by my human kin. I climb quickly to my feet and hurry to the front of the house, making sure I am still alone and can see no sign of my family returning. The coast is clear. Excitement builds up as I prepare to enter the forest, and I have to exhale to expel some of that excess energy.

Hopping the fence in the back garden, I hurry into the treeline, quickly being swallowed by the shade of the leafy canopy. Everything feels different here, and although the plants seem to react to me, I do not have dominion over them like I do in the human lands. Is there something within the land itself that makes the forest feel so alive? The oak tree in Robert’s field felt nothing like the huge specimens here. Could it simply be due to magic in the soil?

I know next to nothing about the fae other than the stories told in the village, but I do know that wild magic follows in their wake, causing all sorts of oddities. That is one of the things I love about the forest. Every time I visit, something has changed and evolved, although never in a way I would have expected.

Although I would love to spend hours here exploring, I know it will not be long until my family is back from the market. I follow the same path I have been travelling since the first time I stumbled into the mysterious forest. My feet know this journey so well that I could walk it in my sleep.

The clearing is just as I left it, only this time bluebells litter the ground, adding a flash of colour to the idyllic scene. Four large sentinel trees make up the boundary of the clearing, and there is a small stream through the centre of the space, with lush grass on either side, perfect for lying down with a good book. This has always been a safe space for me. I do not miss the irony of the fact I feel safer in fae lands than in my own human realm.

Hopping over the stream, I lie on the bank, running my hands over the bluebells and admiring their perfect little flowers. My mind drifts, the tangled thoughts and stresses lifting from me as I focus on the serenity of the clearing. How anything this peaceful could be called evil, I don’t know. I am not naive to the fact that there is danger in the forest, along with the threat of the fae, yet here, in my clearing, those worries seem far away.

It is not long before creatures begin to join me. As always, butterflies are the first, landing on me and fluttering their wings. Wherever I go, I always seem to draw creatures to me. Perhaps I smell good to them. From the corner of my eye, I spot movement, and keeping still, I watch with a small smile as a fox slowly enters the clearing. Its eyes are brighter and hold far more intelligence than its counterparts in the human lands, so I know it is related to the fae in some aspect. The silver markings helpin identifying it too. Flecks of silver are interwoven with its white fur, making it shimmer as it moves, majestic and otherworldly.

Knowing that any movement will only scare it off, I keep still and wait for it to approach me. Creatures have always been drawn to me, and I have never known why. Thankfully the larger animals tend to watch me from a distance, making it easier for me to blend in with the villagers. If I were walking around the market with an entourage of animal companions, I am not so sure they would let me off lightly. Rumours are a vicious thing, and I live in a constant state of balance, making sure I am able to cover up my differences.

The fox is almost at my side now, its gleaming black eyes meeting mine. Something passes between us for a moment, a silent understanding that neither of us means to hurt the other. There was no voice in my head, and I certainly do not speak fox, yet I know with certainty that the creature is assured I mean no harm.

Before my mind can spiral with the reality of what I just discovered, the fox suddenly stops as it sniffs the air suspiciously. The animal abruptly disappears in a flash of orange and silver. It is only now that I feel the gaze of a predator fall on me. The air feels as tense as a pulled bowstring, and a breeze stirs up out of nowhere, rustling the leaves above me as though the trees are trying to warn me that I am no longer alone.

I sit up slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements but needing to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. I scan the area. I am not frightened, and perhaps that makes me a fool, yet I trust the instincts inside me. While I respect the danger of the forest and the beings here, I do not think I am in any real danger.

A familiar presence settles over me, and I release a tense breath, sinking back into a relaxed position now that I know who has scared off my animal friends. I say nothing, not acknowledging his arrival by glancing over my shoulder to wherehe is lingering in the treeline. My heart cannot seem to make up its mind over whether I am happy with the turn of events or not.

“You are upset.” His voice moves over me like a dark caress, his observation a statement rather than a question. He has always been able to read me like a book.

“And you are back,” I counter, my words more clipped than I would have liked.

My mysterious visitor has been somewhat of a friend to me over the years, watching over me when I was just a girl entering the forest, scared and confused. Despite our many conversations, he has never divulged who he is, not even his name. I am not daft. In reality, I know that if he is from the forest, then he must be fae or some magical creature, not to mention he has not aged a day since I met him around a decade ago. Seeing him was a highlight of my visits. He makes me feel heard and… normal. It is because of this that I push the conservative thoughts about associating with an unknown male to the back of my mind.

Recently, though, he has been more closed off, spending shorter amounts of time around me, until he just disappeared completely. I have not seen or felt his presence in over three months, and I could not understand why I felt so bereft. I have never seen his face, and I do not know his name or where he comes from, yet somehow he seems to have become such a large part of my life. Now he is back, and I feel both anger and relief—it is very confusing.

“Did someone hurt you?” The question is asked casually after a heavy pause, but there is a dark menace beneath his words that makes me think twice before I answer. Do I tell him what happened, or do I deny it completely? He will know if I lie, he always does.

“Not physically,” I reply, still looking towards the stream and not at him as I settle on a version of the truth.

There is another pause, and I feel a shift in the air as he pulls his power. The forest around us seems to freeze, sensing just how powerful and dangerous he is. “Sometimes the worst wounds are the ones no one can see.”

My head drops, and I lower my hand from the bluebell I was half-heartedly examining. Something about him acknowledging my pain makes it all the more tangible, my heart aching. It has not been a good day. The incident in the market was only the beginning. Robert’s words cut through me like a knife.

“I just get tired of being different sometimes,” I admit quietly. “It would be so much easier if I were normal.”

He snorts, and I feel him move closer. “Normal is boring. You are a being of immense promise and potential, do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He has said all of this to me before, but never once have I gotten an explanation of what he means or how he knows this. Finally, I turn and look into the treeline where I know he is. He is swathed in black, his long cloak shifting like shadows. As always, his hood is up, hiding most of his face other than his strong jaw and lush lips. He has no stubble, and his skin is so pale, you might think he never stepped out into the sun. It is impossible to tell his age, but his voice holds a power that makes me think he is far older than I expect.

After scanning him for any signs of injury that might explain why he was away for so long, I cock my head to one side. “Are you ever going to tell me who you are?”

I see his smile before he pulls back farther into the trees.

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