“I know, it’s been a long while.” I shrugged and looked back at the fabrics. Maybe I should have just thrown on my not-as-dirty smock and been done with the matter. I was a bit tattered inside, not quite knowing how to weave together thefrayed edges. The Goddess Celebration was a relief, and it was also a reminder of the things I’d never told Rosie. Or anyone.
“Rosie, I—”
“Clara Thorne, no more words. I finally get to dress up my best friend! After fifteen years of nothing!” An excited blush crept onto her sage-green skin. And I squandered the chance to tell the truth once more—a well-worn path in my heart.
I smiled uneasily, and then she swooped me into her arms and set off on a run.
“Rosie! What do you think you’re doing?” I screamed. None of the townsfolk batted an eye at us as we passed by. Rosie had lived here all her life. She talked too loud, moved too fast, loved too big, and the town adored her for it all. It was why I cherished her and one of the many reasons I never would leave Moss. To be loved and accepted fully is a rare gift. Where I came from, she wouldn’t have been accepted. That village was a hateful place. That was the place Ludwig should tell stories about. Human folk who chose to hate anyone outside themselves and their ideals. I’d rather meet a gaggle of monsters.
“I’m going to give you a makeover, silly!”
“A makeover?” I screeched, the thought and memories of that place sliding off me and into the grass.
“Hells yes, a makeover! I’m picking out your dress, I’m doing your hair! You’re going to look like a fellow Goddess tonight if I have anything to do with it! Who knows when I’ll ever get the chance to do this again? You’d better get ready, Clara, because the entire world will be looking at you tonight.”
We laughed all the way through town and onto the dirt path that led to Rosie’s cottage.
A familiar twang played in my heart—a deep thrum that awoke the slumbering magic within, a more uncontrollable magic—all the love pouring out of me with nowhere to go. It had happened before; rarely, but it had happened. In the moments where my heart was at its best, full and unwavering. The moment I met Rosie and all those flowers erupted was the moment I knew that Moss had given me a gift. I couldn’t access it on my own. I suppose because it wasn’t mine in the first place—I just channeled the magic that only existed here. At home. It was always an exceptional circumstance that brought out the abundance—or the scarcity, when I could only cause things to wither.
But today, I lived in the most marvelous of exceptions.
So, on that very path Rosie and I’d walked countless times, buttercups began springing up in every massive footprint that Rosie left in her wake. Every hoot of laughter caused another bundle of those flowers that looked like tiny golden fractals of light. Every twang of my heart was like a ray of sun through my body, and the flowers kept on coming.
By the time we reached Rosie’s home, an entire mile’s worth of earth was filled to the brim with blooms—all in the shape of an orc’s foot. A reminder that, as long as my heart stayed here with Rosie, in Moss, with all of these people I loved, I could grow an entire world of color.
Rosie certainly rose to the occasion. While leaving me to luxuriate in her sage-scented bath, she took my coin pouch and purchased a dress at the finest dress shoppe in Moss. When she returned, she set to work on my hair and makeup. Being one for the dramatics, she didn’t let me see any part of the process until she finished.
When I finally looked in the mirror, my breath hitched. I had always been quite plain—just a wildflower amid roses. But even the simplest flower can look magnificent in the right bouquet. That’s what Rosie did today. My mousey brown hair, usually shoved beneath a headscarf, was free-flowing and curled. My cheeks were rouged instead of their normal pallid appearance. And the bright green dress she chose happened to be the same shade as my eyes. The dress was meant to hug the frame of someone far more endowed, but I didn’t mind the room. I looked like a field of grass, and I liked that very much.
“If I weren’t deeply in longing for a nymph named Patti, I’d take you to bed right now,” Rosie quipped, and I let out a howl of laughter, hoping the rouge on my cheeks hid the real blushing beneath. She’d been in love with Patti Larkthorn ever since she’d opened up her flower shoppe years ago. I did my best at getting those two totalk, but they both shied away from each other. Two moons on different orbits, bound to admire the other in the sky. It was better that way, anyhow. No sense in risking a broken heart. Though, Rosie lived a braver life than most. I’m sure she’d view a broken heart as a thing to be cherished. “At least I loved,” she would say. She was good at that—loving. I excelled at never saying it.
“Thank you,” I said, reaching up to touch her cheek. My long, flowy sleeves fell back into my face just as my mouth opened to say that I loved her. We both laughed, and I let the words die.
Deep greens and black swathed the world around me, the golden light from lanternflies the only thing illuminating my path. I could hear the Goddess Celebration revelry from a mile away as I trekked my way through the living darkness.
The Goddess Celebration took place in the heart of Moss Wood in the Clearing, which acted as an epicenter of sorts. The magic mesmerized all—a hint at what Eldrene used to be capable of. For on the Celebration night, every path in every wood ended here. That way, no matter where folk were in the realm, they could find their way to Eldrene. Even woods on the farthest edges of Nestryia wound their way here. As if time and distance made a concession for one eve. And I suppose that’s what they were doing. Earth, the Fates, Time… they all had to have a hand in weaving the magic that made this night possible.
The Shadow Woods never led here, thankfully. Dwindle never attended the Celebration, so we never learned if any of their stories were true.
Two entwined willows came into view, their leaves swaying gently in the summer evening breeze. A small opening sat just at the bottom of the two trees. Yellow light poured through onto the mossy ground below, the only hint that anything lay beyond. A dense thicket of bramble surrounded them, impossible to see or get through. Anyone with malice in their heart would not be allowed access into the Clearing, thus keeping away evil and inviting in kinship.
I steeled myself before I walked in. Parties weren’t my forte, and to make it all worse, I would need to descend a long staircase to enter—one made for a vast crowd of people, notjust me all by myself. It would be difficult to go unnoticed, and the last thing I wanted was to be noticed. Ever.
The thoughts alone had my stomach roiling. My mouth went dry, and swallowing became impossible.
You can do this, Clara.Walking down a staircase to a party was not the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. I squared my shoulders, readying myself for what would come. Tonight was no different from any other Celebration I’d attended. The dress was making me feel disconcerted, that’s all.
Taking one last gulp of forest air, I knocked thrice on the two willows, and the small hole at the bottom suddenly stretched wide—the opening big enough for Warty becoming large enough for an entire human. Roots untangled from each other, and willow bark fashioned itself into an ornate archway built by the Goddess herself.
I walked through the entrance and into the fray. Much to my relief, no one below had noticed me. The door behind me shrank down once more, and I would be free to fade into the crowd once I escaped down the stairs.
My heart warmed at the sight before me.
The Clearing was as beautiful as ever. Hundreds of towering trees curved in toward one another, cocooning us all in merriment and nature. Lanternflies lit up the world, willow leaves draped over the crowd below, and stars filled the small patch of sky visible through the top of all those branches. Golds and greens, accented by bright flashes of color from the partygoers’ adornments, flashed in and out of view like rustling leaves.
I saw Rosie, towering above the rest, trying her best to talk to Patti but failing miserably. Each time she openedher mouth to say anything, she froze up, leaving them both in awkward silence. Sylvie danced freely, her honey-pot bun bouncing happily right next to Mayor Quincy with his shock of blue hair. Helda stuffed her face with biscuits, continuously looking over her shoulder, making sure no one could see her do so. The jam lady sucked on her finger, undoubtedly dipped in something sweet. Moss at its wildest, and my heart soared to see it from this vantage point. Birds must have an excellent time getting to watch the world unfold from their perches.
Clinking pints of ale and hoots of laughter filled the air. Francis underscored the cheer with upbeat folk tunes, and Goddess, the smell of it all. Garlic, rosemary, and butter wafted over me in Haven-blessed waves, and the spiced apples followed soon after. I closed my eyes, taking it all in. Nothing in the world could be better than living here with these folk.
