“We will be there soon, my children. We’ll leave the forest when we can,” Mother says, pulling me out of my head.
"That would be lovely, Mother. I have been dreaming of our own place," I say in my softest and nicest tone.
Mother smiles back at me, clearly satisfied by my response.
"It is not much longer now," she replies happily. Without waiting for my mother's instructions, I begin taking down the tent and packing our belongings. My mother looks at me, pleased with my proactive behavior.
My brother doesn’t say a word but starts packing up his things as well. We move when everything is packed.
Fynn never complains about anything; in general, a silent Einzelgänger. So, I take that responsibility upon myself, and I repent from time to time. When I do, sometimes I see a slight, faint smile on his face, which makes me speculate if he, too, is tired of all this.
Mother stops abruptly, causing us to almost bump into her. I mutter while I turn to face her. The sound of my mud-caked boots stepping onto gravel ceases, too. She turns around excitedly, her dark gray eyes more enormous than usual, and her black wavy hair swirls around her pale face. She looks pretty, despite the age showing on her face and the wrinkles caused by her worry.
"Look!" she almost yells, her voice rising in pitch, pointing down along the edge where we are standing. Solace shows on her face.
I haven’t realized we have been walking so close to a cliff. I look at Fynn, and then we both glance below us, seeing a valley that is intensely green and peaceful, almost fairytale-like and unreal. We have never seen such vibrant colors before in our lives; the towns we come from look dull, and the foliage there is bland compared to this. My eyes dart back to Fynn, who is still staring at the scene unfolding before us. Would I be able to push him? Would I be quick enough? Would the fall kill him? I look back at the valley, unsure if it would be steep enough. He would definitely be hurt, but that isn’t enough; it has to be sudden death. I need to hear his neck crack when he falls.
"Listen!" Mother shouts, raising her arms above her head.
My attention snaps back to my mother. Fynn and I both tilt our heads in unison to focus on our surroundings. Only now do I see that this part of the woods has a gradient from red and orange fall colors to bright green colors. The trees look healthier, their bark still firmly attached to their trunks, with fresh patches of moss clinging to them and dewdrops still visible, rather than the eerie, sticky residue I have grown accustomed to. I am baffled. How did I not notice this before? Was I so caught up in my delirious thoughts? We have crossed the barrier of The Wailing Forest, and as we did, I didn’t even notice the gradient changing into this bright green.
The only thing I have been focusing on these last few days is the dull, muffled sound of my own footsteps on the dry gravel, the constant rustling of leaves as ghouls move around us, and that damn swirling river and a waterfall far away, the continuous sound of cascading water. But now I hear rippling water nearby, which sounds much gentler than the Red River, a small creek,but I also hear birds—singing birds! This is a strange experience. I have not paid any attention to my surroundings because there is usually little to no life around us anyway. We had heard birds before, but not like this. This sounds exuberant, their songs infiltrating my ears, replacing my ominous thoughts. I am enveloped by the woodnote of rustling leaves and chirping birds, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. The places and forests we had previously traveled through had brittle trees that appeared dead on the inside, with fungi embedded in their systems. Most of the wildlife had fled the barren grounds, and most water sources—whether creeks or small lakes—had no clear water, only brown, murky water. While I look down, I see a small lake that almost seems to be turquoise. This place looks like it came straight from a fairytale. How did Mother even know about it? The books?
I pout my lips. "It seems like a nice and quiet place. Will we be staying here for a little while? At least a few months? Is this Valorya? It doesn’t look like a city," I ask with a tiny annoyance in my voice, which she gladly does not pick up on.
It all looks too good to be true. Not once have I witnessed such scenery in my life. I had expected a city to be bigger, more… alive.
Instead of answering my questions, she nods with a huge smile and waves her arms at us, directing us to follow her. I do not remember when I have witnessed her brimming with such uncontainable elation before.
“This isn’t Valorya yet, darlings, but as you can see, it looks much better here than in the other towns where we used to stay, and everything is better than those woods. When we reach Valorya, we will live there for some time.”
In silence, we go after her: Fynn first, I last, the notion of him treading in my wake instills within me a palpable unease. Neither of us has argued with Mother about our path before, andI do not trust him to walk behind me. I might not survive the ordeal if he gives me one good push; my neck will snap for sure.
We follow her along the surprisingly steep trail deep into the valley. I can feel the fresh air filling my lungs, breathing deeply as if I have not had oxygen for years. Finally, I get rid of the sickening stench from The Wailing Forest in my nostrils. I see Fynn do the same thing in the corner of my eye, albeit less extravagantly, mimicking my behavior.
I freak out a little; my senses have been keen lately, and I do not miss that our behaviors have been similar. Or maybe they've always been this way, and I’ve only started noticing it now. I wonder if his mind is also poisoning itself with horrid thoughts. I tear my eyes away from Fynn before he sees me staring at him. The grass is such a bright green and so full of life that it hurts my already burning eyes. The sky seems to become bluer as we descend further into the valley. I turn around and glance at the woods from which we had come, and I swear it looks as if the sky there is darker, more dreary. Perhaps more clouds were hovering, caging in the souls to prevent any escapes.
It's such a contrast; here, the sky is clear except for some overcast drifting lazily on the horizon. It almost looks… unnatural.
It takes us a few hours to navigate the steep track that leads us into the valley. Mother is unstoppable; she has energy for days as she descends. She walks in a determined trot in a specific direction, us following her closely.
As we walk, a silhouette of a small Luminal Sanctum rises against the horizon. The white spires soar into the sky, their pointed peaks reaching toward the heavens. Towering buttresses and pointed arches cover the sanctum, and above its door is a rose window with stained glass. I cannot believe my eyes, blinking several times to ensure I am seeing it correctly.I even ask Fynn to pinch me, which he does a little too gladly, hurting me. My arm instantly forms a dark purple bruise on the spot where he tortured my skin between his fingertips, having pinched me too tightly. It is all irrelevant. The closer we get, the clearer it becomes.
This town still has a Luminal Sanctum—an actual Luminal Sanctum in all its glory. Even if it is small, it is magnificent in comparison to the ruins we have seen before. The houses are well-maintained, with adorable painted shutters in front of the windows, and small gardens adorn the streets with blooming, sweet-smelling flowers and lush green bushes. The whole town is bathed in a scent of freshness. Freshly washed linen, as if the entire town has just finished their laundry day, with a hint of citrus. My mother looks pleased with herself, as if she has just found a long-lost treasure.
“This is Sadelaer; we will stay a few days here to rest before we finish the trek to Valorya.”
As Mother speaks, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as if something or someone is watching us. I can't shake off the feeling that something is undeniably wrong with this place. Despite everything looking so well-kept, I wonder where the people are. The entire town seems deserted, abandoned. Yet, these houses, like those you might see in the human cities, have architectural structures that are way less dramatic than the vampires but too well-maintained for the cottages the hags prefer.
I have seen many human-made structures before, although they have never been in such pristine condition as the ones here. This is the first human settlement that does not appear to be a relic of the war that occurred centuries ago. Each door and shutter looks as if it was freshly painted yesterday; the grass mowed short that morning, and the blooming trees look asif spring has just begun, their buds opening. The fresh, pleasant breeze does not help, as goosebumps appear on my skin. It is all too pristine,too perfect.
"Mother," I say, slightly frightened, "where are all the humans? This town appears abandoned, yet everything is in perfect condition. It’s… eerie."
My face turns into an unintentional grimace when my mother replies, and I glance at her in disbelief.
"There are no humans here, Harlot, as you mentioned yourself. The towns up North belong to vampires. We are now in vampire territory," she says calmly, "and that is exactly what will keep you both safe. This town is merely designed to represent that of humans, to feign a sense of safety. You will not find many here. And every human that does enter here will not stay… long."
Death. She means that any other human crossing these borders will find their imminent death. We are only safe because of our magic. Anyone else will be ripped to shreds and drained of their blood.
