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"Oh, dearest Adaine~" their voice singsongs, echoing through the woods. "You cannot hide from me forever, little one!"
Adaine ducks through some bushes just small enough to hide her tiny frame, heaving for breath. Where to hide, where to hide–?
Spying an opportunity, she crawls through the bushes and slides through a flickering tree, the illusion allowing her to pass right through it in her time of need. It drops her safely in the shadows, where she can slowly, slowly tiptoe through the brush to mask the sounds of her movements.
"Adaine, Adaine, Adaine!" His voice calls even louder, the echoes so much clearer here on this side of the forest. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~"
Adaine squeezes her eyes shut. Let me hide, she begs the forest, pressing herself up close against the bark of one of the trees. Please, let me hide.
The shadows shimmer around her, letting her slip into them as easy as breathing. Adaine presses a hand to her chest to slow her breaths, and she waits, keeping her eyes squeezed close as she listens to the woods around her.
"You can't run from me," they call again, and this time so much louder, so much closer. Adaine sinks to her knees, hand still pressed to her chest. "I will find you, as I have before. There is no escape for you, little Adaine."
Three, two, one…
A silent ding rings out through the woods, and Adaine whoops, leaping right out of the shadows and nearly crashing right into the pale figure chasing her. "I win!" she cheers, swinging around them gleefully. "I lasted ten minutes, I win!"
The figure – Adaine's been calling them Moony, since he won't give her his true name – just smiles at her, letting her dance victoriously in the shady clearing. "You are getting better," they agree, reaching out a hand to ruffle her hair. "What a good job you have done, little one. You have played our little game very well."
Adaine beams. Before – before the Forest, before her new life – nobody in her family ever wanted to play hide and seek with her, but now she has Moony! Sure, he's a little strange, but he smiles at her so genuinely; plus, Adaine actually likes the way her name sounds when they say it, clipped and accented in a funny way.
"Though you must get better with the way of the trees," Moony says, tilting his entire head at her. It revolves fully around his shoulders; Adaine is so jealous, she's tried to copy the movement so many times but her puny elven neck simply will not obey her commands. "The forest listens to you, and you only need ask for it to obey."
"I know!" Adaine nods furiously. "I asked the trees to hide me, and they did!" She likes to think she's getting better at asking the forest for help, whether that help be for hiding during a game of hide and seek or even transporting her from one area of the woods to another without walking so her legs can rest, unused to the physical activity. Her parents, her real parents, the ones that live outside of the forest, had never liked it when she asked them for anything, but the forest didn't seem to mind so much now that she lived inside of it instead of in the manor outside.
Moony smiles at her upside-down, sympathy reflected in their piercing black eyes. "Our stark father will be pleased," he says, and Adaine smiles right back at him. "To see you grow up so strong."
Her parents, before, never told Adaine she would ever be strong. Most often they just scolded her for not being as adept with magic as her sister. If they could see me now, Adaine thinks to herself, and she stems her fingers, clumsily twists her neck until she's sort-of halfway upside down to match her friend. "Can we play again?" she asks, the words straining at her throat in her newfound position. "Please?"
"Only because you are so cute when you copy me," Moony agrees, and he closes his eyes. "I will count from ten, and then you better last fifteen minutes this time, little one."
Adaine snaps back upright, and without another word, she zips off into the treeline just as Moony starts to count. "One! Two!"
~~
The rules of the Forest are fairly simple.
The sky, when even visible through the thick briars and fog, is always dark, always night. Adaine has no real sense of time here in this place, but she finds that she does not need it; when she is tired, she can curl up in the hollow of the closest tree she can find and it will accommodate her size, giving her leaves as pillows to rest on and a blanket made of moss and fiber to shelter her from the cold.
When she is hungry, she is led to a garden with all the fruits she could possibly eat. It will make you grow up strong, the woods whisper to her, and by her fifth day in the forest, Adaine no longer needs the assurances. When she is thirsty, she will stumble upon a stream flowing with clear waters. It makes her feel giddy, scooping water into her bare hands to drink from; like she is living straight out of one of Aelwyn's old books of feytales.
Her hair quickly becomes tangled from her adventures exploring all the Forest has to offer. Eventually, Kalina sits her down and braids it, if only to keep it from falling in her face when she's running around.
Kalina, too, is one of the rules of the Forest; she only appears to her in the thickest part of the wood, where the light cannot quite touch and Adaine has to rely solely on her darkvision to guide her. As such, she only sees Kalina as an extended shadow, finds her by the glow of her eyes and the echoing laughter that seems to follow her everywhere she goes.
She is not allowed to leave. Not that Adaine even really wants to leave here! Being taken in by the Forest is one of the best things to ever happen to her; before, she had been kept all but locked up inside her parents' manor, forced to read books and study all day. She likes reading, she even kinda misses it, but it cannot compare to the newfound freedom the Forest has granted her.
Moony visits her sometimes too. Not always, he tells her that he is "very busy" visiting the outside world, but he likes to bring her little trinkets; a necklace made of gleaming ivory, a hairpin fashioned out of thorns, a doll sewn together with buttons for eyes and a jagged smile. And then they can play together, chase each other around the woods, take naps in swinging hammocks fashioned out of sticks and leaves.
Sometimes, they even tell stories to her. Stories about the outside world; of the delicate webs that they usually live in, of the mirror world that they occupy when they aren't out and about. You would not like it there, little Adaine of the Forest, he tells her, it is not a place meant for children.
Adaine doesn't feel much like a child anymore. Children of her age, according to her parents, should be mindfully at home, studying and practicing magic and perfectly behaved. Certainly not prancing around the woods, swinging from branch to branch until the Unicorn themself comes to fetch her for wandering too far.
The Unicorn keeps a close eye on her. At first, Adaine had been creeped out by their presence; they are completely skeletal, nothing but bones strung together by magic. But they have always been kind even in their admonishment, letting her ride on their back through the woods when they are tuckered out from a day of playing. You must not wear yourself out, child. You will not grow strong that way.
Nothing in the Forest would ever harm her. Even when she falls from the trees after climbing too-high too-fast, the limbs stretch around her, guiding her fall until she lands plainly on her feet only a little rattled by the experience. The thorns part around her when she pokes her head through them, and the one time Adaine tested her luck and plunged straight into the creek she likes so much, the waters had shifted until she was standing flat on her feet, the current flowing around her and yet not pulling her further into its depths.
My stark father has chosen you to be one of his own, Moony tells her one day, when she dares to ask why the Forest seems to like her so much. He protects you, just as he watches over us. One day, he will wake, and you will get to experience his gentle caress. You are his child, just as I am.
Doesn't that make us siblings? Adaine had wondered.
Oh, little one, Moony's eyes had gleamed. Do you have other siblings?
Adaine had thought about Aelwyn. Mostly, she thought about that night; when Aelwyn had forgotten about her, had left her to wander too close to the thorns that separate the Forest from the outside world. She had thought about the sharp abandonment that had ached inside of her, the sheer certainty of knowing, even at nine years old, that nobody in her family truly cared about her, nobody would question if she just disappeared, they'd all probably be happy about it. Aelwyn was better off an only child, and Adaine was better off that way too.
No, I don't, she had told them, and in her naivety, she had missed the way Moony had licked their lips, practically salivating over the taste of her lie. So I guess we're not siblings either.
We could be. You could be my little sister. But I do not share, so I would have to be your only sibling.
Sounds good to me!
~~
(It had been a quiet night in Arborly.
Their mother was off, deep in her latest research project; the only reason they lived in Arborly to begin with. Their father had locked himself in his study, which meant Aelwyn and Adaine had free reign of the entire manor, alongside the whole property they had rented it from.
"I don't want to go!" Adaine had cried, when Aelwyn all but dragged her out of the house. "I don't like the forest!"
"Will you stop being a baby about it?" Aelwyn had scolded her. "We're just going to the edge of town. I want to look at the fauna myself, it's what researchers do."
Adaine had dragged her feet the whole way there, but she didn't have a choice; Aelwyn was tasked with watching her dumb baby sister, which meant she had free reign to bring Adaine anywhere she wanted to go, and it's not like their parents would care that they were outside by themselves.
"The forest keeps giving me nightmares," Adaine had protested glumly when Aelwyn plopped them both down in front of the giant barrier made of thorns and weaving branches. "I don't like it."
"You don't have to like it, you just have to sit there and be quiet, this isn't gonna take me long." Aelwyn had stopped watching her, far too invested in writing down notes about the way the grass from Arborly faded into the thorns and branches of the Nightmare Forest. It was fascinating, but she's only eleven; she didn't know any better.
(Maybe if she tells herself she didn't know any better more, she'd be able to forgive herself for what comes next).
Adaine stops protesting. Adaine stops making any sounds at all. Aelwyn, crouched down and turning over a handful of dead leaves, does not think anything of it; at least, not until it's been half an hour and Adaine still has not said a word – of complaint or anything else – in the whole time they've been there.
When Aelwyn does, finally, look up, her sister is gone.)
~~
Sometimes the stars talk to her.
Adaine can't see the stars here; not through the branches, not through the dark fog that covers the forest. But she knows they are there; in Fallinel, the stars had been important, divine by nature, a symbol of their relationship with the skies and the moon.
Before the Forest took her in, Adaine thought she might be a diviner. She hadn't gotten very far in her wizard studies; she was only eight when they moved to Sylvaire, and the schools in Arborly weren't exactly great at instructing proper young high elves. However, Aelwyn had already chosen her magic specialty when she was eight, so Adaine, too, had been expected to choose a path and follow it, and she had been certain it would be through divination. The stars had always called to her, whispering secrets in her dreams even when she had learned to trance and stopped sleeping, even though in trance elves were not supposed to dream.
She's certainly not studying wizardry now. Instead, the magic that runs through her veins ties her directly to the Forest, to her patron; the one that Moony calls his stark father, whatever stark means. All it had ever asked of her was to give up her family name, and wasn't that easy? Wasn't Adaine, only nine when she had been called to the Forest, so eager to give up being an Abernant in favor of something that actually served her?
And yet, still, the stars speak to her.
Adaine, now eleven, stares up at the thick canopy that shields her from the outside world. Her hammock swings with low creaks in the wind, and beside her Moony is curled up; she asks him to stay with her, sometimes, when she's really feeling alone, and they always comply. She should be asleep, and yet something about the sky she cannot see draws her attention, has her fixated on the branches covering her view of the night.
"I know you're speaking to me," she whispers, reaching one of her hands out as high as she can stretch it, like she might touch the stars and hear their whispers more clearly. "What is it?"
The Forest hums in return, but it is not the voice Adaine wants to hear.
Instead, she focuses on the stars, tries to remember what they had looked like in Arborly before. In her mind's eye, she can see them so clearly: glittering ever-present in the sky, encompassing all space and all of time.
Her vision changes. She sees a group of teenagers all braving the Forest; it is not as kind to them as it has always been to her, leading them each through their worst fears to test their worth. They are not strong enough on their own, the Forest whispers. They are not like you, little one.
What happens if they make it here? Adaine wonders, stretching her hand even further as if to touch the vision, letting it ripple like a stone skipped through her favorite creek. Will I have to fight them?
That is still years to come, the Forest tells her, and you will have to fight them. This is why you must be strong; to defend Us. It is why we chose you.
The image changes. Adaine sees… herself, though she does not recognize herself right away. The Adaine she sees is so different; her hair is clean and cut to her shoulders, has fists balled at her sides as she walks with eyes closed through the Forest's edge.
A life that did not come to be, the Forest hums sadly. One where you came to us much older, and we had to test your worth just like the rest of them. A sad fate. You would not have survived.
Adaine shudders, and her sight fades, returning to the thick wooden canopy she's far more familiar with. I don't like that world, she thinks. It's scary.
Everything can be scary when it is unfamiliar, the Forest agrees. Rest easy now, little one. That future will not come to pass, but you may still have to fight for Us when the time comes. Until then, you must grow stronger.
I will. Energy buzzes through Adaine's veins, and the branches and leaves that make up her hammock shudder underneath her, curling inwards and blackening at the roots. Adaine does not notice this, still staring upwards to the heavens. Thank you.
The Forest cannot touch her, but Adaine feels the low hum in her chest, the warm glow of her magic a comforting presence. Curiosity sated, she closes her eyes, and lets the buzzing of the Forest lull her into peaceful slumber.
~~
Kalina is brushing her hair again.
"Hold still, kid," she says in a low hiss; though her tone is ferocious, Adaine, now thirteen, does not mind so much. She knows that Kalina means her no harm, she's just frustrated.
"I am trying, Kalina, I am!" Adaine presses her hands into her lap, grimacing as Kalina tugs at her head, forcing her matted, dirty hair into two pretty braids. "I do not know what it matters. My hair is not a problem, really."
"It is a mess," Kalina says dryly, and Adaine shudders as a phantom hand brushes against her cheek. She… she knows that Kalina isn't real, cannot physically manifest the way the other creatures of the Forest do. No, Kalina is made of magic and starlight themselves, solidified only here in the dark heart of the Forest, close to the Tree that Adaine is not allowed to go near. Here, the shadows are so thick Adaine can hardly see even with her darkvision, and she usually lets them close, allows her senses to guide her around, trusting that the Forest will aid her where her sight cannot.
Just because Kalina is not physically real does not mean she isn't here. It brings her patron comfort, which means it brings Adaine comfort, even if she doesn't quite understand why.
"There, all done." Soft crunching of leaves indicates that Kalina has stepped back, and Adaine gently caresses her braids, admires the way her hair twists so tightly into something more manageable. "Say, I think you're the prettiest thing in this forest. Don't go ruining my hard work in one day now, will you?"
Adaine grins cheekily. "I cannot promise anything," she says, clumsily trying – and mostly failing – to imitate Moony's lilting tone. "My stark father demands I use the woods to my advantage, it will certainly not be my fault if my hair catches on a branch."
Kalina huffs fondly, and she pats Adaine's head; despite herself, Adaine leans into the touch, sighing softly at the weird tingle it brings. "That's our good girl," she says, and Adaine's grin turns into something more bashful. "Now, why don't you practice that new spell you've been given?
Adaine nods, and she stands, stretching her wrists out with a crack and focusing. Bending the illusions of this place is not easy; as she focuses, her visage changes, a mask covering her features and her hands going so opaque only bones are visible. Wisps of purple energy wreathe around her, and Adaine reaches out for any living creatures in her vicinity, probing at minds until she finds something; a frog, croaking at her from its position hidden under leaves.
Skeletal hands twist, and the frog croaks even louder, and then leaps away as though being pursued, vanishing into the shadows.
"If only you could get practice with better targets," Kalina muses, as the glow around Adaine fades and her hands return to normal. "Perhaps a treat is needed."
"Moony says he could bring me someone if he tried hard enough," Adaine tells her.
Kalina, though, only shakes her head. "You being here was an anomaly in of itself," she says. "A regular person coming into the Forest needs… tools. Permission that even I, on my own, cannot give. But I do have a treat for you, it just might take awhile. Is that fair?"
Adaine pouts at her, even as she weaves through the shadows only barely visible by the gleam of her eyes. "How long will it take?"
Kalina's eyes gleam a little brighter. "Hopefully, if we're lucky, not that long at all." She reaches out to ruffle Adaine's head again, and Adaine giggles at the touch. "You'll be happy though; it is quite the good treat. A chance to really prove yourself to us, and to the Forest."
"I will prove myself," Adaine promises.
Kalina smiles. "Good girl."
~~
(Aelwyn steps into her apartment, and she sighs, collapsing against her bed with a dramatic groan.
Securing this place had taken… so much work. First, she had to convince her worthless parents that actually, she did not need to go back to Fallinel, she had gotten into Hudol! The most prestigious wizarding school in all of Solace! Sure, it could not compare to the schools in Fallinel, but they already paid for her tuition, why couldn't she simply stay behind, go to school, live on her own?
(Aelwyn thinks maybe, her own words hadn't quite been enough to persuade her parents; but one night later, they had agreed, and she wouldn't dare question why).
They were paying for the apartment, which is why it was so small; she had a bed, a desk for her schoolwork, the smallest of kitchens, and a modest living space which she had not decorated in any way. She would not be spending a ton of time here, she really only needed a place to crash in between missions.
It's not like she's really going to Hudol, either. Sure, she's registered as a student there, and sure, her parents believe her to be there, having no way to check in on her from overseas, but Aelwyn has bigger, greater aspirations.
"Okay, cat bitch," she snarls to the corner of her room, where the shadows loom ominously over the space. "Where do I start looking?"
A laugh fills the air. "If I knew that, would I need you?" Gleaming eyes appear in the shadows, and then Kalina steps out, fully manifested in all of her glory. "Patience, kid. You've done well so far, surely you can handle a simple search mission."
"I don't even know where to start." Aelwyn groans again, and she tugs out her most-read book from where she left it laying casually on her bed, skimming through the pages. "Arthur Aguefort wrote down a lot of bullshit, but none of it has anything to do with where he stored the most influential artifact he's collected in his entire lifetime. Stars, why couldn't any of this be easy."
"You think finding your sister would be easy?" Kalina's smirk is audible even when Aelwyn's not looking at her. "I told you, you need patience. Start small, then go up. What, am I going to have to hold your hand the entire way there?"
"Fuck off." Aelwyn flips through a few more pages before she gives up; she does not want to reread Arthur Aguefort's worthless biography any more than she has to. "Fuck, am I going to have to get a way onto the actual Aguefort Academy premises? I'm not a student there, I can't just waltz in."
"Sure you can, you just have to own it." Suddenly, Kalina is right next to her, curling her tail around her in the facsimile of comfort. "Befriend some students. Sell them drugs, if you have to, you know adventurers won't say no to locally-sourced snuff."
It's… not a bad idea. Certainly there are worse places to start. Aelwyn sighs, and she slumps into the illusion of comfort being offered to her, sitting upright only to curl her arms around her knees and draw them into her chest. "This better be worth it," she grumbles. "If that crown is really what I need to find Adaine–"
"-it is the only thing that can find your sister," Kalina reminds her. "Nobody but you and I even remember she exists. That crown is your ticket to freedom; to forgiveness. You better not fail."
"I'm not going to fail," Aelwyn snaps at her.
Kalina only smiles. "Good girl.")
~~
(In a forest clearing, a small, nine year old elf stands, trembling.
"Aelwyn, where did you go?" she sobs, her limbs shaking so hard she collapses to the ground. "Where am I? What's happening?"
You stir, watching her. She is young, sure, and you do not know how you managed to drag her here, to pull her away from the outside world and into your home.
Do not be afraid, child, you tell her.
The girl's sobs quiet, and she stares out with wide eyes. "Who's there? My… my parents will come looking for me, I know they will!"
The poor thing. She does not yet know her own significance, does not know her own importance; even now, her voice quivers like she does not truly believe what she is saying.
Your parents have forgotten you, you tell her. They will not come looking for you, they have already forgotten you exist.
The girl's lower lip trembles, and she shakes her head. "No, they will, they…"
You watch the fight drain from her, watch her curl into a ball on the forest floor.
You could be mine instead, you offer. Forswear your name. Give up being an Abernant, and this Forest will become yours. You will be my protector, my warlock, my child. Power I will grant you, and I will keep you safe, protected. You do not need your family anymore.
The girl sniffs. "What about Aelwyn?"
Your sister? She's the one who left you here to begin with. She abandoned you, child. Do you want the power to become stronger than her? To defy your birthright?
Slowly, you watch your words take effect; the girl's composure changes, her posture going rigid as the anger you so admire grips her tightly, her sobs stopping entirely. "I can be stronger than her?"
You will be stronger than her. The Forest will be your new home, and you will never have to worry about a thing again, you promise.
The girl hesitates, and then she nods, scrambling back onto her feet. "Okay," she says, the word sealing the invisible, unwritten contract. "Okay, I'll do it. I can really live here?"
You will love it here, Adaine of the Forest. You cannot smile, can only watch, but still she smiles back. Welcome to your new home).