This Time

The elf followed the shadow through the bewildering passage of vines. With the shadow fox leading her, finding her way through that gloomy place was not as difficult as it had been alone.

Before long, Leyade heard the muffled sound of water growing stronger again, while a stronger breeze blew from the same direction.

The fox quickened his pace, turning every few yards to check that she was following.

As they walked, Leyade finished covering Kalindra. The last thing she wanted was to make the fox disappear by accident.

Ahead, she could already see the little light filtering in from outside. As they approached, it became clearer, and the fox began to fade wherever the rays touched him.

By the time they reached the exit, he looked like little more than a translucent ghost.

The fox stopped in one of the darker parts of the entrance, sat down and watched her patiently.

“Thank you very much, little fox.”

Leyade stopped beside him and bowed her head in thanks.

The fox returned the gesture, bending one paw in a bow before merging with the shadows.

Leyade watched him become one with them, then turned on her heels and ran out.

A river lay before her, welcoming her.

It was the same one she had seen from above.

She turned one last time to study the path and find her bearings, but there was nothing behind her.

No tunnel of vines, no tree where she had been.

Nothing.

Only an enormous stone wall covered in moss.

Leyade stared at it for a long minute.

“I think I’d better not even think about it.”

She rolled her eyes and turned away.

“This forest does nothing but play games with me...” she muttered.

She no longer wondered why or how.

She simply accepted it.

The river flowed strongly down the gentle slope. There must have been heavy snow that winter, for it carried plenty of water.

Thirsty, she approached it, moving carefully along the bank, avoiding wet, slippery stones and placing each foot firmly until she reached the water’s edge.

She took off her gloves and laid them aside.

Bringing her hands together, she dipped them into the water. It was cool and clear, with a mineral scent and little debris floating in it.

She felt it flowing between her fingers and over her skin.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then cupped her hands, scooped up some water and brought it to her lips.

“Waaa, that’s lovely and cool!” she exclaimed, savouring it with a smile. “Something normal at last.”

She dried her hands with a handkerchief, then filled her waterskin from the river.

After that brief pause to quench her thirst, she stood up and continued along the bank towards the river’s mouth.

Unlike the other side of the forest, this part was full of life.

Little birds flitted among the trees, squirrels played along the trunks, wild boars and their piglets ate grass beside the paths, colourful fish swam in the current, and brightly coloured butterflies occasionally rested on her head or ears.

“You’re tickling me,” Leyade said when a partly translucent lilac butterfly settled on her ear.

This side of the forest brimmed with life and movement.

She breathed deeply, intoxicated by the scent of flowers and fruit.

“I’m so hungry...” she murmured, looking at a peach tree proudly displaying its fruit. “I think I’ll take advantage of this.”

She took out her bow, drew an arrow and nocked it.

Leyade positioned herself beside a clear stretch, waited for the birds to move away and checked that no other animals were nearby.

She drew the string and took aim.

The arrow shot away with a faint whistle and pierced a peach, which immediately fell to the ground.

“Good!” the ranger exclaimed, going to collect her prey.

With the peach in her hand, the elf continued down the riverbank.

The hours passed.

The riverbed rose and fell with the ground, disappeared beneath roots that formed bridges, curved around enormous rocks blocking its way and narrowed wherever the terrain left it little room.

Until, a few yards ahead, Leyade glimpsed a beautiful lake into which the river flowed.

“A lake!” she exclaimed happily. “I can finally have a bath!”

Full of enthusiasm, Leyade quickened her pace, jumping over rocks and roots to reach it.

The water was blue and clear.

A little waterfall tumbled between the rocks, and several stones rose from the lake, offering places to lean or sit.

Butterflies fluttered above the surface while beavers swam across it, tending their dams. Trees and beautiful wisteria decorated the banks, hanging over the water until their petals almost touched it.

“Waaa...” Leyade sighed. “It’s beautiful...”

The white-haired elf approached the bank, took off her backpack and studied the water.

It was moving, but there seemed to be no treacherous currents, hidden holes or strange drops.

A broad smile spread across her face when she decided it looked safe and suitable for bathing.

She placed her backpack beside a rock and began removing her equipment.

First, she unfastened Kalindra from her belt and slipped it inside the rolled blanket secured beneath the backpack, making sure it was well hidden.

She looked around to check that no one was watching and, satisfied, nodded to herself.

Then she took off her armour and laid it beside the backpack.

Her leather armour was light, but she could not help sighing in relief as its weight left her body.

Next came the gambeson. After so many days spent sleeping in it, it seemed to have become a second skin, and she had to struggle to pull it off.

Finally, she removed her leggings and shift, leaving her body completely bare.

Leyade rubbed her sore shoulders and neck.

The constant pressure of the armour had left marks on her skin, especially where the straps and edges had borne its weight for so many hours.

She also massaged her breasts, grateful to be free at last of the pressure of the gambeson and armour.

There was a lake like this in the forest around her village, and she and her friends often went there to bathe.

She stretched out her arms, feeling the breeze caress her skin and enjoying the freedom of moving without all that weight.

She took a deep breath, then bent down and took a little box of washing supplies from her backpack.

She removed the soap and a sponge and set them beside her armour before closing the box.

Lastly, she spread her cloak over all her belongings, covering them completely.

Her elven cloak was made of leaves to blend into its surroundings and escape notice.

She had chosen a spot full of vegetation beside a rock and a tree, so her possessions were perfectly concealed.

Once satisfied, Leyade turned and stepped into the water with the soap in one hand and the sponge in the other.

The cool lake water washed over her body.

Her very long white hair spread around her, floating like snow melting in the water.

She dipped beneath the surface to wet herself completely. When she raised her head again, she began swimming peacefully across the lake.

The beavers watched without paying much attention to her presence, while the butterflies took flight unhurriedly as she passed.

She let herself float for a few moments until she came up against a rock.

Finding an uneven part of its surface, she braced herself and pushed up with her arms to sit on it.

She dipped the sponge into the water to soak it, then squeezed it lightly.

She rubbed the bar of soap against it until it lathered and squeezed it again.

After placing the soap on the rock beside her, she began to wash.

Leyade watched the soap bubbles forming on her skin.

“Now that I think about it...” she began, “this is the first time I’ve been so far from home.”

She drew the sponge along one arm.

“Who would have thought...?”

She looked up at the sky without stopping.

“I never thought I’d leave the village for so long, let alone to save it.”

She sighed wistfully, gathered a few bubbles in her hand and blew gently.

The little spheres floated towards the sky.

Some drifted down to the lake and burst against its surface. Others rose quickly until they vanished in the sunlight.

Only one lingered longer, eventually returning to Leyade’s hand.

“Will I be able to do it?” she asked, studying the bubble on her palm. “Or will I fail? I’ve never used a sword... What if I can’t learn to handle it? What if...”

She went still, the sponge resting over her heart.

“...when the time comes, I can’t wield it and face them?”

The bubble finally burst in her hand.

Leyade sighed deeply.

“No, no, no!” she said, raising a hand and leaning forward as though to strike an imaginary table. “Stop that, Leyade! You mustn’t think like that!” she scolded herself.

She shook her head and slapped herself in the face with the sponge, covering it in foam.

With a look of unmistakable disgust, she began spitting.

“Ugh, ugh! That’s disgusting, for God’s sake!” she complained, wiping her mouth with her hand before gargling with some water.

When she finally got rid of the taste of soap, she looked at herself again.

“Everyone believes in you. Everyone is waiting for you. You can’t fall apart at the first hurdle!” she scolded herself, studying her wavering reflection in the waterfall behind her. “Remember what the elder said: ‘We trust you, Leyade. I know you’ll bring light back to the village,’” she repeated in an old man’s voice, waving a raised finger.

For a few moments, she watched her reflection blur and sharpen again with the movement of the water.

Slowly, she lowered her hand, and the energy began to fade from her expression.

“However many times you lose heart, this time you have to keep going...”

She paused, lowering her hand the rest of the way.

“You really do...” she murmured at last.

She sighed and went on bathing, this time lathering her hair.

With her body and spirit calmer, she remained beneath the waterfall a little longer. It was only a small drop, so the water did not fall too forcefully.

After enjoying a few minutes of water cleansing her weary spirit, she slipped down from the rocks and entered the lake again.

She swam quietly, watching the beavers work on their dam.

The sun was beginning to sink, painting the sky orange and shimmering across the water.

“Well...” Leyade said. “It’s time to get out.”

She was speaking to a beaver that had been resting on a stone for a while.

It looked at her and yawned.

“My time here has gone by so quickly.”

The beaver wriggled on the stone, looking at her with its head tilted, and grunted lazily.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s lovely here, but duty is duty.”

The beaver rolled onto its back and grunted again.

“Yes, I know you’re a beaver and can stay here as long as you like. Don’t rub it in.”

The beaver ignored her and closed its eyes.

Leyade huffed, shook her head and stood to leave the water.

She walked through the shallows to the bank, then headed towards the rock where she had left her belongings.

But there was nothing there.

“Huh?”

She looked again.

“Huh...?”

Her heart suddenly raced, and cold sweat trickled down her back.

“No, no, no, it can’t be... It can’t be...”

She knelt down, looking around for some sign that she had mistaken the place.

But her sense of direction and her memory were good.

No, she was not mistaken.

Frantically, she searched the whole area, but there was only the sponge and soap she had just put down herself.

“No, no, no, no...”

Frightened, worried and on the verge of breaking down, Leyade searched the clearing with her eyes.

“Where are they?”

She crouched and examined the ground for traces of what had happened.

“Drag marks...” she began, passing a hand over them. “They’re fairly fresh.”

She followed them for a few yards, studying them more closely.

“There are little loose leaves here...”

She picked one up and examined it. It seemed fresh.

She shifted a few more and her eyes widened.

“Footprints!”

She frowned and looked around. She was sure she had seen no one.

She moved closer to examine them.

The prints were clearly marked in the wet mud.

“Someone barefoot...” Leyade leaned over the tracks and studied them carefully. “The shape is narrower, and judging by how deep the prints are... I think they belong to a woman. But she’s barely disturbed the ground around them... She seems extremely agile.”

Puzzled, Leyade followed the tracks to a nearby tree.

“The marks end here... How strange...” she said, examining them.

She stared thoughtfully at the tree.

Resting a hand on its trunk, she examined it from top to bottom, but could see nothing unusual.

“The trail ends here... Things don’t just disappear,” she murmured, looking at the tree again.

Suddenly, she went still.

“Wait a moment...”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“No... It can’t have been...”

“Well, I thought you’d never work it out.”

Suddenly, a voice came from the trunk of a neighbouring tree.

Leyade spun around and backed away several paces, staring at it.

The bark began to change shape.

It creaked, slid and twisted until it began to form a humanoid figure.

Pieces of bark curled, stretched and bent, gradually tracing a female silhouette.

Slowly, a hand began to emerge: first the fingers, then the palm, followed by the arm and shoulder.

Next came the torso and, little by little, the rest of her body, until a woman stepped completely free of the trunk.

She had black hair, long ears and large, almond-shaped eyes the green of leaves.

Her figure was attractive, and she wore only a few leaves covering her most intimate parts, arranged rather like a bikini.

Her expression combined superiority, mockery and mistrust.

“Who are you?”

The woman looked at her.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied, resting a hand on the tree and leisurely crossing one leg in front of the other.

“I’m not playing your game, dryad,” Leyade replied, visibly angry. “Give me back my things.”

The dryad tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.

“Goodness, how rude,” she said. “For an elf, you’re not at all pleasant. Hasn’t anyone told you that before?”

“Stop this nonsense,” the elf snapped with a frown. “Give me my things now.”

The dryad smiled haughtily.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands, pretty thing,” she replied, slowly and deliberately bringing a long nail to her chin and looking Leyade up and down, drawing attention to her nakedness. “Remember, if I wanted to, I could tear off your skin.”

With an equally unhurried movement, she slowly dug her nails into the tree’s bark.

She lifted part of it and began peeling it away with measured movements of her fingers, rolling it like a strip of parchment.

“In strips. With my nails.”

Her voice dropped, becoming menacing.

She narrowed her eyes in challenge.

“And you...” She raised her other hand and pointed another sharp nail at Leyade. “You could do nothing.”

Her voice sank to a whisper, stressing “nothing” and letting its final sound trail away on the wind.

A shiver ran through Leyade.

It was not what she said, but how she said it.

Cold sweat crept along her back and forehead.

Her eyes followed the dryad’s nails, the way the bark curled and finally fell to the ground.

She swallowed.

This woman was definitely dangerous.

She instinctively looked away.

Her body was telling her to run, but her mind told her to stay.

She drew a breath and looked at the dryad with determination.

She wanted to flee, to apologise or beg for mercy, but the woman had Kalindra, and she could not let her keep it.

“Don’t threaten me. I don’t want to fight you,” she managed to reply. “I only want you to return my belongings.”

The dryad tilted her head, letting her black hair slide to one side, and smiled.

“You’ve got some nerve for an intruder and a thief,” she answered with a crooked smile, her gaze still challenging. “I’m surprised.”

With that, she folded her arms.

“What?” Leyade asked, confused and offended. “The only thief here is you. I can accept you calling me an intruder if this is your territory. Fine, I accept that. If you want, I’ll apologise, you’ll give me my things and I’ll leave.”

The dryad raised her chin and looked down her nose at her.

“What nerve,” she replied disdainfully. “You enter my territory, bathe in my waters, steal, and then come making demands. And you expect me to let you leave with a miserable apology?”

She gave a sarcastic laugh.

“Of course. Apologise, and I’ll give you all your things,” she said with exaggerated irony. “Go on, then. Apologise.”

The last words carried that threatening tone again, now mixed with anger.

Leyade looked straight at her.

“Look, I’m very sorry I entered your territory without permission and defiled your lake. Tell me how to make it up to you, and I will. But I haven’t stolen anything.”

The dryad studied her and leaned forward a little.

“Oh, haven’t you?” she asked in a sweet voice, as deceptive as a carnivorous plant. “You say you haven’t stolen anything?”

This time, she turned towards the tree she had emerged from, extended a hand and merged it with the bark, sinking in up to her elbow.

Then she slowly began drawing it out with something between her fingers.

“Then what is this?”

She pulled her arm free and turned, showing what she held.

It was Kalindra.

“That sword is mine,” Leyade declared. “Give it back.”

“Yours?” the dryad scoffed. “Not only a thief and an intruder, but a liar as well.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“I’m telling the truth!” the elf protested fiercely.

“Please...” she replied haughtily. “Admit it, and everything will be easier.”

The dryad looked at the sword.

“You shouldn’t even have been able to find one.”

With her patience close to breaking, Leyade replied:

“I’m telling you the truth. Kiany gave me that sword. I need it to...”

The dryad burst out laughing.

“Ha, ha, ha! I’ve heard some excuses, but...”

Still laughing, she wiped away a tear.

“Oh... That... Ah! That was one of the best.”

She shook her head again.

“‘Kiany,’ she says...”

She placed the sword at her feet, leaning against the trunk, so she could wipe the tears from her eyes.

Leyade watched her leave it there while she went on laughing.

“Of course, of course. ‘A spirit gave it to me.’ Couldn’t you come up with a better excuse?” she remarked, taking a few steps without looking at Leyade and enjoying how amusing she found it all.

Clearly, she had not believed a word Leyade had said.

The young elf kept her eyes on the sword.

She nodded to herself and, gathering all the courage she could, took advantage of the dryad’s distraction to lunge for Kalindra and flee.

The dryad noticed her intention and seized her wrist tightly.

“Hey, hey, hey. Where do you think you’re going, you insolent little thing?”

Leyade took advantage of their closeness and punched her in the face, splitting her lip.

The dryad hissed, wiped the blood with her hand and tried to dig her nails into Leyade’s face.

The elf ducked as best she could and tried to sweep her legs out from under her, pivoting around the grip on her wrist.

The dryad leapt nimbly to avoid it and, with a movement of one hand, sent roots bursting from the ground towards Leyade.

The elf bit the hand holding her, sinking her teeth in hard and leaving deep gouges in the dryad’s skin.

She screamed and let go.

Leyade grabbed the sword and began running, jumping over and dodging some of the roots.

But there were too many.

Several finally caught her, coiling around one leg and her waist, tearing her skin as they crept over her body.

The roots gripped her and began to tighten.

With her skin exposed, every scrape was pure pain.

The pressure increased, and she saw her skin beginning to turn red.

The dryad laughed.

“You think you’re so clever, but you won’t get away,” she said, lunging towards her to tear at her skin.

Her nails dug into Leyade’s belly and dragged through her flesh, leaving deep lines of blood that spilled down her abdomen.

Leyade cried out and kicked the dryad in the side with her free leg, drawing a groan from her.

This time, she did not dodge.

She knew she had won, and she had no intention of letting go.

More roots broke through the earth and wound around Leyade.

They climbed her body until they covered her mouth and left her completely helpless.

The dryad laughed maliciously, wrenching the sword from her hand.

“I told you that you couldn’t escape. Now...” she threatened, “you’ll suffer the consequences.”

She wrapped her fingers around Leyade’s neck and began digging in her nails as she squeezed harder and harder.

The skin gave way beneath her nails far more slowly than Leyade would have wished.

Blood began to well from the points where they sank in.

Leyade tried to break free, but the roots held her firmly.

Her neck creaked, and she let out a whimper.

Breathing grew harder and harder.

Pain spread along her neck and into her shoulders.

Her throat burned.

She could not swallow, and barely any air was getting through.

Tears began to spill from Leyade’s eyes.

She tried to scream, but could not.

Kicking did nothing.

Desperately, she tried to shake her head, but she barely had the strength.

Panic overwhelmed her, and she struggled frantically.

‘It’s over,’ she thought. ‘This is the end.’

Her face flushed red.

Her body convulsed, searching for air, but none came.

Her cheeks slowly turned from red to purple, her lips became blue, and her tears soaked the dryad’s hand.

Flickers of awareness came and went.

‘I don’t want to die.’

Through blurred eyes, she looked at her executioner.

‘At least this time, I fought to the end.’

A smile appeared on her swollen, purple lips.

Leyade’s body began to fail.

Her heart raced, pounding against her chest, but little by little the beats grew weaker.

The spasms stopped, and her awareness faded until everything dissolved into complete blackness.

‘Forgive me.’