He steps closer, and the creature flutters nervously. But instead of fleeing, she...wiggles—happily.
“I’ve only seen her do that once before,” he murmurs. “A very long time ago.”
“Context, please, Andrik.”
Andrik swallows loudly, “She’s a Múrvenkae,” he says softly. “But she chose you, so you get to choose her name.” (Sacred snowbee.)
“Can I move her so I can see what she looks like?”
“Yes, carefully, her wings are fragile; they carry special healing powers.”
I gently cup her in my hand and cradle her in my palms. Her wings are translucent; they look like pressed ice crystals, patterned with frost-ferns that shimmer when she breathes.
Her body is round, almost cartoonishly so. She looks like a snow-puff with feet and twitching antennae.
Her little body pulses gently with bioluminescent light, a pulse of soft lavender and mint.
She is absolutely adorable and impossibly light, as if she’s made more of magic than of bone.
“Do you want a name?” I say as I stroke in between her eyes. She nuzzles into my touch.
“Hmmm,” I think. “How about Bimby Button?”
Andrik blinks slowly, then his lips twitch, and a smile breaks across his face. It hits me like sunlight through the trees, melting the chill of the forest and warming me from the inside out.
Andrik-
Bimby Button.
I sway a little, breath caught somewhere between my chest and throat. I haven't heard a Múrvenkae chirp like that in over five hundred years.
I watch, awestruck, as the little glowing snow-bee imprints on Lumi.
She lifts her hand to coax Bimby onto her finger, speaking softly, like one would to a child. There’s no fear in her, only curiosity and wonder.
My knees nearly give out. I can feel the earth humming beneath my feet, a slight tremor.The forest is waking.
“You know,” I murmur, “it’s unheard of for animals in the Rhavari forest to imprint on a mate before the bond is fulfilled. I’ve never known this to happen.” I pause, letting the truth settle. “Just another way you defy fate, Lumi.”
I can barely hear over the pounding in my ears as I watch her whisper to the same Múrvenkae that comforted me as a boy. Back then, her light was the only thing that kept the crushing silence at bay. Seeing that same glow reflected in Lumi’s eyes, the two halves of my life—the lonely child and the desperate man—finally seem to meet in a collision that leaves me breathless.
She’s chosen you,” I say again, but it comes out broken this time, barely reaching Lumi’s ears. Bimby glows brighter in response.
I want to fall forward and bury my face in her lap while I beg the trees to seal the world around us—before anything else can take her from me.
“She’ll stay close to you now,” I murmur. “Her kind doesn’t stray once they've imprinted. She’s part of you now. “
She turns slightly, a crease forming between her brows. “That’s... good? Right?”
I nod, though the word feels laughably small. “It’s more than good, Lumi. It’s numinous.”
If the Múrvenkae felt her soul strongly enough to bond, it means the other soboeûns won’t be far behind. (Soul-bonded guardians.)
The forest isn’t just accepting her as my mate; it’s actively trying to protect her by giving her the strongest guardian, before the bond is even satisfied.
“We should keep going,” I say gently. “There are more who’ll want to see you.”
She hesitates, one finger still tracing Bimby’s glowing body. “Will they all be this cute? Because I don’t do sharks, Andrik.”
