Through Light and Shadow

Chapter 10

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words tangled in my throat. What could I say? Sometimes, silence was the only companion grief needed.

So I stood there with him, the echo of Leroy's laughter filling the air, soft and pure.

Aldric's eyes didn't move from the doorway. His hand—still resting on his beard—dropped to his side, curling briefly into a fist before relaxing. "Life's funny like that," he whispered, more to himself than me. "It takes... and it keeps taking. But somehow, things keep growing."

Like the trees. Like this house. Like the boy with the flower crown.

Even after loss... things grow.

Diana came back after a few minutes with a bag. We bid our goodbyes and continued walking. Here I thought we were finished but the atmosphere shifted immediately—livelier, louder. Stalls crafted from intertwining branches and vibrant mosses lined the pathways, merchants calling out to passersby. Their voices blended into a melody of bartering, laughter, and greetings.

"Fresh glimmerberries! Best in the realm!"
"Woven tunics! Resistant to rain and enchanted for warmth—don't miss out!"
"Herbs for ailments of the body and the heart—come, see for yourself!"

I glanced at the wares, curiosity pulling me from stall to stall. Colorful vegetables—some familiar, others entirely foreign—were neatly displayed in leaf-woven baskets. I noticed the absence of meat, replaced with an abundance of greens, fruits, and nuts. There were herbs bundled with twine, their scents sharp and invigorating, and delicate instruments carved from wood and bone—similar to the flute I'd seen earlier.

One stall caught my eye: clothes woven from leaves. Not just any leaves—these had an iridescent sheen, shifting colors with every angle. Some were crafted into tunics and cloaks; others resembled armor, the leaves layered like scales but flexible as fabric. Nature-made armor? Fascinating.

"Where are we going?" I asked, still taking in the vibrant surroundings.

"Paying a visit to an old friend," Aldric replied, his gaze fixed ahead.

"Again?" I quipped, half-teasing.

"You chose this," he shot back, lips curling into the faintest smirk.

Fair enough. I had chosen to follow him... though I hadn't anticipated the endless walking. Don't get me wrong—the forest was breathtaking—but I was pretty sure I'd tripped over roots at least twenty times since we'd arrived. Each stumble felt like the forest was playfully testing me. I sighed and kept pace.

"And who is this friend of yours?" I tried to spark conversation, partly to distract myself from my increasingly sore feet.

"Another friend who fought with me in the war." His voice dipped into that same sadness I'd heard before.

I found myself imagining them—Aldric and Mira—fighting side by side. What were their last words to each other? Did they exchange "I love you" before heading into battle? My heart ached at the thought. I pictured Mira as a fierce, headstrong woman—a warrior with eyes like fire and a blade that danced with every swing.

My thoughts were interrupted when we stopped in front of another treehouse—but this one was different. Taller. The trunk stretched high above, its bark dark and lined with silver-veined moss that seemed to glow faintly. The house itself was nestled among the branches several floors up, with a spiral staircase winding around the trunk like a wooden serpent.

"Up we go," Aldric said, already ascending.

I followed, the steps creaking gently beneath us. As we climbed, I caught glimpses of the village below—tiny figures moving between stalls, the market's noise softening with distance. Higher still, the forest canopy unfolded around us, stretching like an endless emerald sea.

Finally, we reached a platform where the entrance awaited—a carved wooden door, its surface adorned with intricate symbols that seemed to pulse gently with light. Aldric knocked.

It swung open almost immediately.

A man stood there—around Aldric's age, with weathered skin that spoke of years under the sun and hazel eyes that gleamed with warmth and recognition. His hair, once deep brown, was streaked with white, similar to Diana's. His clothes mirrored the Sylvarian style: woven fabrics that blended seamlessly with nature, his tunic embroidered with leaf patterns that shimmered subtly.

"Aldric!" the man exclaimed, his voice rich and full of life. "My friend. I knew you'd come. Felt your presence the moment you stepped into the forest."

They embraced—a strong, heartfelt hug between old friends reunited. Watching them, a flicker of memory surfaced—my father greeting his friends with that same warmth. It hit me unexpectedly, stirring a pang of sadness.

But the moment shifted as Aldric stepped back and gestured toward me. "Aveline, this is Ragnak. Ragnak, meet Aveline."

Ragnak turned his gaze on me, his smile kind as he extended a hand. I shook it, offering a smile of my own.

"Apprentice of yours?" he asked Aldric, before his attention returned to me. "You have beautiful eyes," he said sincerely. "Your aura... it's bright. Pure. There's a lot of magic in your blood."

I blinked, caught off guard—but before I could respond, Aldric cut in with a quick, "Ragnak."

Ragnak raised his eyebrows in surprise at the interruption but caught the unspoken meaning. Nodding in understanding, he stepped aside. "Come in, both of you."

The interior was warm and inviting. The walls, alive with living vines and soft moss, seemed to breathe. Shelves carved directly into the wood held scrolls, crystals, and small trinkets. A fire crackled in a hearth made of smooth river stones, filling the room with a comforting warmth. Hanging plants swayed gently from the ceiling, their leaves releasing faint glimmers of light.

As I stepped inside, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another visit. Something about this meeting felt... important.

And judging by the look Aldric and Ragnak exchanged, I wasn't wrong.