Mahou’s eyes flew open, heart thudding against their rib cage, breath fast and shallow. It was a sound. A resounding thump that sent their consciousness reeling and kickstarted what could only be described as a rude awakening. They lay, splayed upon their bed, focusing first on listening – fully expecting the sound to be followed by something equally as loud and sudden. Instead, however, there was only a resounding silence. They breathed. They smelled the wet climbing vines and the perfume of the small flowers that crowded their sill. Outside, birds crooned and sang. On the cobble streets below, elnin could be heard darting back and forth on their own personal errands. A Voice, a town crier, perhaps, could be heard delivering the morning’s news with gusto – something about bountiful harvests and bright sunny days.
They rose from their bed in slow, measured increments. Wary of upsetting the books that lay piled at the foot of their bed. The trinkets crowding their
The earthen path was edged by bright green leafed bushes laden with blooms of soft pink and lilac purple. The branches swayed gently on a breeze that smelled of fresh cut grass and spun sugar, carrying with it the small yellow dots of pollen and the stray leaf. Mahou stepped forward eagerly, enjoying the gently sloping hills, the fields of tall green grass bordered by tall trees of bright green leaves blooming with flowers of a dozen different colors. This time the adventurer was of their picking. Rune trailed behind them, stopping ever so often to crane their head. Mahou presumed he was tracking the descending sun – sunset already coloring the cloudless blue sky in shades of deep purple and bright pink.
“C’mon,” they urged. Feeling the excitement bubble in their belly as they nearly paced in place – eager to pick up speed, to get there faster.
Rune turned at the sound of their voice and smiled. An excited exclamation and the kittom rushed forward, squeaking by a “Race you!” as
Light filtered through the thick canopies of trees bent by the weight of their own flower-laden branches to reach Mahou’s open window, casting inward a sparkling rainbow of colors refracting off of the late spring blooms of Faerindell. The kittom woke slowly, in parts. Toes twitching, warmed by the sunlight. Body stretching instinctively as the scent of the blooming flowers reached their nose. Eyelids fluttering, suddenly blinded by the awareness of waking as by the late morning sunshine. They stretched again, mouth cracking open in a yawn. They rolled to peer outside, squinting, listening to the sounds of birds, elnin off on business down on the streets below, leaves rustling with a warm and pleasant breeze. Good weather in which to enjoy a rare bit of adventure. Or so a note carefully folded over hinted at.
“Meet me at the edge of the woods at noon. I have something to show you.”
Mahou could almost roll their eyes at it. The deliberate sense of mystery. A vague promise