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princeinthevale · 4 years

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Chapter I: Sapphires and Pears

Wind through trees, I’m dancing in the forest green. I float on the breeze, my feet do not touch the ground. The canopy is emerald on a sky bleached white by sun and cloud. Up I go, higher. I can see the whole wood, nestled safe in the vale beneath the Grey Titans. Smudges of smoke curl from chimneys in the village; a herd of deer rut in the glade. The wind gives out, I start to fall. It comes, fast—a blink—and I am on the grassy, leafy, floor. I look up to the hole I’ve made in the canopy.

‘Too fast.’ I say to myself, because no one else will. ‘Much too fast.’

The gust picks up, I am beckoned to rejoin the dance. Only for a little while, I always promise myself. Rarely do I keep it. I let it carry me forward, between the trees and the along the brush; over the river and up the bend. Then I’m back. It takes me all the way to the top, at the highest rim of the Titans. If I try very hard, I can float above the vale for a few minutes, but I’ll always have to come down. It gets too cold otherwise.

But I love to see the outside, if only for a moment.

When it drags me down again, I don’t get back on. I’m out of breadth; my chest heaves and my heart pounds. I crush a leaf in my fingertips as I ponder the little blue holes in the white walled sky. It was a very good day for flying, it had been like this for a few weeks. It’s best when the wind is up and ripping around the cliffs and over the crags. Violent turns and vicious drops make for a good afternoon.

‘It’ll rain tonight.’ I say as I watch the clouds race by.

The soft dirt feels gentle between my toes as I walk back to the hut. The forest wasn’t quiet. It never was. The wind played it’s symphony through the leaves, branches, and bushes; other more colorful players clamored for acclamation.

‘Downright noisy, you lot.’ I say as I pass a particularly cacophonous bouquet of pheasants crowded around a bushel of blackberries. They’re indignant at the audacity of my plucking one for myself.

‘Just the one.’ I promise.

I come to the village clearing, to a clutch of gently smoking huts. There were twelve, but only three were lived in, including mine. Squat, prideful, and snug beside a stream, and gently turning flour mill. My stomach rumbled at the memory of bread. I couldn’t remember my last, really satisfying meal. Mostly I subsisted on berries and nuts, these days. I can’t bear killing. The others can, but I can’t.

The flower beds which surrounded and covered my hut opened to greet me with a burst of purple, blue, and pink. It was really only one room, little wool hammock piled high with blankets and pillows that hung from the rafters. There were some books on the shelf that I don’t read anymore, and a bowl and spoon sat dusty on my humble wood table. The recent paw-prints in the dirt floor suggests my cat is somewhere nearby.

The coals in the fireplace are still alive. I go about setting up a little fire, and work at coaxing the flames back into being. It can get very cold at night in the vale. Once I’ve deemed it sufficiently warm, I go to check the cupboard—out of habit—but it’s empty. I look out my one window at the darkening sky; there won’t be stars tonight.

‘Mmrreow.’ Cloud announces himself with an enthusiastic head-butt to my knee. He’s licking his face, and wastes no time in thanklessly laying out before the fire. He stretches, and warms his paws near the flames.

‘You’re welcome.’ I say, closing the window and turning the latch. I’m just about to pull myself into my hammock when I hear a knock at my doorframe.

‘Lavender? Are you decent?’ An ill-timed voice sounded.

Oh dear.

‘No no, no visits tonight please.’ I asked, throwing my arm over my eyes to cover the sight of my interloper. ‘My stomach can’t stand another of those dreadful cider drinks.’

‘Oh well, that never stops you from drinking them does it?’ A young face with a square jaw peaked in. He had copper and gold hair and drops of sapphires in his eyes. He had two bottles held up in his grasp, and a sack full of fruit over his shoulder.

I waved him inside as I foisted myself up into the hammock. We toasted and drank to his mothers health, and the health of the vale and village, though it wasn’t any good. Again, more out of habit. Kolya was generous with the fruit, and happily cut up slices for the two of them. The pears tasted like sunshine on my lips.

We talked for a long while about nothing in particular. I tried to ask about his mother, he tried to ask about my family. Neither of us were interested in that. He had something more weighty that he wanted to say, though I was desperate not to hear it.

‘It’s almost autumn.’ He said after cutting a slice of apple for himself.

‘That it is.’ I agreed.

‘We’ll be having to move on soon,’ He sat facing the fire but I could see him glancing form the corner of his eye, ‘For a little while.’

This was always the worst part. The fireplace crackled and popped, filling the space of the silence between us. I didn’t want to say anything, because I’d said it before; it wouldn’t change anything, anyway. As always, my golden summers must come to an end.

‘How long?’

‘A few weeks, probably, whenever mother says it’s time.’ Kolya said with his nails between his teeth. ‘She want’s to leave before the winds make the steps too hard on the way down, her knees as she gets older you know.’

No I don’t. But even still, I knew this was coming. In truth it’d been happening for a few weeks already. As the seasons dragged on, and summer inevitably gave way to autumn, the families of herders and traders uprooted, and moved up and out, leaving me alone for the next few weeks while I waited for my next guests.

‘Of course,’ I said trying to ignore the ache in my chest, ‘I’ll be here, after all, when you get back.’

‘Right.’ Something in his voice sounded wrong. From my hammock I could see him rubbing his eyes. When he could finally speak it was more like a croak. ‘I’ll miss you.’

No sweeter words to my ears.

‘I’ll miss you too.’ I said, alighting from the hammock and coming to sit beside him. We spent the rest of the night drinking and talking of our time spent over the past few months. I liked when we swam in the river and laid in the sun, he loved when I taught him how to fly. They always did. He promised to come back as soon as he could, but I knew that it wasn’t up to him. They would come back if they were allowed to come back. I hoped they were.

It was late when he left. The sky was black and he’d not be able to find his way home if not for the gentle candle-lights in his and his mothers’ adjacent huts. He kissed me on the cheek and I regretted not asking him to stay the night.

The next few weeks went by in a haze. I languished in the sunny skies, drinking in the delicious warmth and light. I saw my guests only infrequently. Mostly I tried to avoid them, it was easiest that way.

Goodbye is too final. I am determined never to say it. So when the time comes, as it always does, for my guests to leave, I am nowhere to be found. He is looking for me. His mother has wanted them to leave for days, but he still wishes to speak to me.

I float above the treetops, and watch as he peers through my door. I really don’t know what I was thinking this time, with a village of huts. It’s quaint I suppose but really just anyone peaking in there is a little violating to my privacy. Maybe for the autumn I’ll do something more special. Perhaps a castle in the cliffs to overlook the turning leaves?

Cloud is there, a grey smudge against a green floor. Kolya pets him graciously.

I should say something. But I don’t. I hide and watch as he turns away from my cottage with visible dejection. His face is hidden, but the slump in his shoulders is all I need to see. The copper and gold of his hair shimmers in the dappled forest light as he leads his mother by the arm out of the little village.

As they walk, I float a little ways behind them. They take a few days to get from the village to the edge of the vale. A few more to climb up the steps and they’re nearly at the rim. He knows I’m watching them. Furtively I see him peak over his shoulder, to check if I’m still watching. I can’t let him see, it’s for his good, as much as mine. It’s always worse if the parting is long and drawn out, and it's cruel to give him too much hope.

There’s a crest at the top of the steps, between two rocky crags. Once they’re over I can’t follow them anymore. I think he knows this, because they stop for another night before they make the descent down the other side of the titan. Their tent’s are pitched beneath an outcrop, and a little fire warmed them in the night.

My heart aches when I see him sitting alone as the moons drag over the sky. He’s looking up for me. I’m hiding in the shadows above the rocks, but I think he knows I’m close. I can see his eyes flashing blue in the dark. He’s nibbling on the core of a pear, I love when he smells that way.

I can’t resist; I’m behind him.

‘Hello.’ I say.

He starts, and leaps to his feet with admirable agility. When he realizes me he visibly calms, his cheeks flush red, and he glares. I’ve scared him.

‘I’m sorry.’ I tell him reaching out to grab him by the hand. ‘I wanted to come before…’

‘Before you never saw me again?’ He spat and stepped away.

That hurt, but it was true. He still came back to take my hand.

‘Yes.’ I said rubbing my fingers against his palm. ‘The Vale will only let you pass this way once, you can never come back the way you came and I can never leave.’

‘And you were just going to let me find out when I tried to come back to see you?’ His glare cut to the quick, and made my lip quiver. ‘I thought we became…something, these past months, I thought we meant something.’

‘We did.’ I closed my eyes to stop the tears, and felt his rough hands cup my face. ‘We did, but it couldn’t last, you couldn’t stay here.’

‘Why not?’ He shook me a little, I opened my eyes and saw his face glistening in the moonlight. ‘Why can’t I stay here with you? It could be the two of us, we could be happy here, safe and happy, forever.’

The word sent a shudder down my spine. How desperately I wanted something like that. What I wouldn’t give to leave? To step down the other side of the stairs for even a day, and watch a sunset over the flatlands below. But I never could. I must remain. I must always remain in the Vale. Such is my purpose.

‘No.’ I tell him, taking a step back and wiping my face. ‘You must leave, and you must never come back, ever.’

I didn’t wait for him to respond. Noiselessly, I leaped from the cliff, allowing the wind to carry me down the side of the mountain, and cradle me to rest among the canopy. I saw his shrinking face peering over the cliff to watch me as I went. We stayed like that for a long while, me resting on the trees, and him looking down at me from above.

A droplet hit my cheek. I’ll always wonder if it was his tears. Lightning cracked the sky open, and I’d have to seek shelter soon. But before I left, I turned back one last time to see him, and the last glimpse I ever has were those eyes, blue as sapphires. He didn’t wave.

They’ve been gone for weeks now. His mother had left an apple pie in my hut, for my hospitality of course. He’d left a note folded in my hammock. I didn’t read it. Instead I crumpled it to a ball and threw it in the fire. Cloud meowed approvingly, and purred softly in my lap.

It’s been only the two of us in the Vale now; but I can feel, soon others will come. I’lll have to make the place ready.

#writing #my writing #fantasy #literary fantasy #literature #theprince #vale #sapphires #pears

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