Between
The day was slowly turning into a late afternoon, but Derylan had the feeling that it had be just before dawn. The sun had disappeared behind a thick blanket of fog a while ago. His eyes only reached a few trees wide. Without the stone paved path that the traders had laid a long time ago, he would certainly have got lost in the forest. But as it was, he followed it, past almost bare trees and the few bushes that grew in this part of the forest. The peoples who lived here, before his civilization settled down, were known to have given this area an important role in their world. He couldn't remember exactly what he'd heard on his visits to the academy, but apparently the forests were a corss road to the afterlife. And looking at that mist, he could understand why they'd thought that.
Suddenly he wished he'd accepted his friend's suggestion. But at that moment it seemed unnecessary to rent a horse. He had been gone this way countless times. It was a half day trip to his hometown and the area was safe. The Prince's soldiers made sure that all thieves and bandits who believed they could find shelter here were severely punished.
Derylan took a deep breath while he stood still for a moment. His gaze wandered over the thick, tough mass, which seemed to condense around him. A feeling of coldness and discomfort began to slowly run down from his neck. He couldn't help but shake his body, trying to break free of the feeling. His feet began to move again and even if he wanted to dismiss the feeling, the speed of his steps increased. He thought he could feel someone watching him from behind him. It was a burning sensation right between his shoulder blades that only left him when he turned around. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't make out anything in the fog. His hand went up as a bead of sweat moved down from his forehead. It felt cold.
The crack of a branch just behind him made him flinch. He spun around, but again he couldn't make out anything. He had to finally calm down and just move on. He quickly continued on his way when the feeling under his feet changed. When he had just felt the regular grooves and stones in the path before, the ground suddenly became irregular and leaves crunched under his crotch. His eyes widened as he looked down and saw no path. It couldn't be! He had not left the path. But no matter how often he turned in a circle, far and wide he could not make out a stone floor. Fear crept under his clothes, like the cold mist around him. It took his whole body in it grasp, leaving him with nothing but a laughable control of his limbs. He staggered backwards when noises reached him again. Before he could think clearly, he had already turned and was running away. In the corner of his eye he saw movements to which he could not see a clear body. He almost stumbled, not concentrating on the path ahead. He kept walking forward. A tree that suddenly appeared in front of him almost threw him off course and he bumped his shoulder against the trunk as he pressed past it. Past the tree, he only managed to stop at the last second. He had almost staggered into a campfire. Gasping, he stared in surprise at the blazing flames. Warmth crept into his limbs and even if the feeling in his back didn't completely disappear, he suddenly felt better. Only slowly did he realize that he was not alone in the clearing. On the other side of the fire sat a young woman, wrapped in a long black dress. It seemed to flow around her like water. A wreath of mistletoe and red berries perched on her jet-black hair. Her pale skin probably looked even lighter than it actually was, compared to what she was wearing. There were broad lines of red paint on both of her cheeks, as if they were war masks. Her gaze was fixed on her lap, where her hands were busy weaving a doll out of sticks and stalks. Derylan was frozen in place. There was a strange silence in the forest. He could no longer hear any cracking in the undergrowth or any birds. Just the crackling of the campfire. The next one stood like a wall around the small clearing.
Suddenly the young woman put the doll next to her on the floor and got up. Instinctively he jerked back, but she went, ignoring him, to the campfire and began to stir in a pot that hung over the fire. Unsure of what to do, he slowly stepped closer. Hhe tried to clear his throat and draw her attention to him. Maybe she could show him the way back to the street? But she didn't react to his noises. Instead, she picked up a bowl from the floor and began pouring soup into it. The smell of the food made his stomach growl. Ashamed, he looked to the side. What kind of a picture he presented?
"Sorry," he finally managed to say, "do you know where the path is?"
His question was followed by silence. The woman filled the bowl to the end before she came around the fire and held the food out to him.
"It gets cold at night."
That was all she said before pressing the bowl into his hand. Derylan looked down at the food, irritated. It seemed like a simple stew, with vegetables and a little meat. Still, it smelled tempting. He raised his eyes and could see how she filled a bowl for herself and then sat back down in her place by the fire. It was the first time their gaze met. Her dark brown eyes seemed to penetrate him and when she nodded with her head next to her, his feet moved without his doing. He sat down on a blanket that looked as if it had been waiting for him. When he was seated, the young woman raised her bowl to make a toast, as was the custom when inviting a guest to dinner. Reluctantly, he returned the gesture and nudged his bowl against hers. With a nod, she took hers back and began to drink the broth. Since he didn't know anything better and didn't want to offend her, he raised his bowl to his lips as well. The liquid appeared like Lavar against his cold lips and as soon as it ran down his throat, he only realized how cold he actually had been. He hastily put both hands on the dish to warm it and kept drinking a few sips until the broth was empty. The vegetables and meat followed and it wasn't long before his bowl was empty. With a relieved sigh, his body sagged a little as he stared into the fire. At least he wasn't cold anymore. But what was his host doing here? He looked at the young woman who was also finishing her meal. After she put her dish down, she reached for a bottle and two glasses, which she filled. Still without a word, she handed him the drink. It was easy to see that it was mead. At that moment he hesitated. Actually, he wanted to be on his way again. He had to find the path and wanted to get out of this damn forest.
"Thank you," he began, "but do you know the way through the forest? I would like to go home."
The young woman took a sip from her glass.
"That would be very rude. I have granted you my hospitality, then you should drink with me too."
Her deep voice surprises him. She didn't seem to match her petite stature and pale face. As she spoke, her eyes were on him with an icy look. Derylan had to swallow.
"Of course, my apology."
His words seemed to soothe her as she averted her gaze and took another sip. He also raised his mug to his lips and began to drink. They sat in silence by the fire as the light of day began to fade. This fact confused him even more, since he should have had many hours before it got dark. Suddenly he was glad to have stayed around the campfire. With this fog and in the dark he would never have found the way. As happy as he was about the fire, he was just as uncomfortable with the woman. The silence gnawed at his nerves.
"Forgive me, but may I ask who you are?"
"Your hostess."
He almost laughed at her answer, but bit his lip to still not offend her.
"And I'm very grateful to you for that. I meant what your name is."
The only thing she gave him was one more look before turning her attention back to the fire. Another shiver ran through his body. Something about her didn't seem right at all. Why was she his host if she didn't want to talk to him? Wasn't it just as polite to introduce yourself? No sooner had he finished the thought than memories seeped into his head. Long forgotten lessons that he had once received from his mother. The rite of hospitality had been sacred to her. It was more the way of the elderly, so he had never used the rules.
"My name is Derylan, I'm on my way to my hometown Seewacht. Thank you very much for your hospitality."
In response to his words, she turned back to him. This time her gaze wasn't so dismissive.
"I'm happy to see you here, Derylan," she replied, "My name is Atar and I would like to offer you my campfire to rest for the night."
Relieved that she finally spoke to him, he nodded.
"Thank you. I accept your offer."
Given how dark it was already, he had no choice. When he looked at her again, he thought he saw a smile flicker over her lips. Did she suddenly look satisfied? He couldn't really tell because her face was as blank afterwards as before.
"If you allow the question, do you know the way to the path?"
"You will find him easily in the morning. Now you should sleep."
Derylan opened his mouth in surprise. He wanted to protest, but at the same moment a bloodcurdling howl broke through the forest. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he turned to look for the cause. He could still hardly see anything. Or had something moved there after all? He blinked, trying to get a clearer look. But all he could see seemed to be shadows moving back and forth between the trees. Once again the cold crept under his clothes, like cold fingers pulling at him. A hand touched his cheek and he screamed. Suddenly he found himself face to face with Atar. However, her eyes were no longer brown, but glowed a bright blue. Her hand was cold, like the air around him.
"You should go to sleep."
She only whispered the words, but there was power in them that paralyzed him. The next moment he felt her pressing something against his chest. When he took it, the feeling of doubts and grass touched his skin. It was the doll she had been working on. His fingers closed around it and instantly the cold seemed to let go of him. The woman straightened up and returned to her seat. He slowly began to lie down on the blanket when he heard her voice again.
"Look at the fire."
Although it was against his instinct, Derylan turned his back on the forest. In front of him the flames danced in the wind. Behind him he heard hissing and rustling of leaves. When he looked at Atar, he could see that she had started weaving a doll again. After a few movements she began to hum softly. The song seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn't tell where it was from. Had he heard it before in the taverns? While he was still thinking about it, his eyes began to close. Even the shadows that were beginning to appear behind Atar couldn't keep him awake. Seconds before he fell asleep, he suddenly had the image of his mother in front of him. Singing him to sleep with the song.
Derylan's eyes widened and he immediately sat up. Pain made itself felt and it took him a moment to move all of his limbs again. The first thing he noticed was that it was light. He was lying in the forest with only trees all around. Birds flew from branch to branch, trilling their song. And no fog far and wide. He took a deep breath, relieved, before struggling to his feet. He looked around for Atar, but could not see her. Not her, not the campfire, and not even the blanket he slept on. There was only forest floor in front of him. Confused, he took a few steps and stopped immediately. He stared in amazement at the road that turned through the forest just behind the next bush. In the distance he could even make out the edge of the forest. He rubbed his eyes. How did he get here? Did he just fall asleep on the side of the road? Or was the camp right next to the road? But where was the camp then? And where was his hostess?
He couldn't find an explanation. He checked his clothes, but everything was in place. When he got to his breast pocket he felt something soft. He reached in and pulled the doll out. The sight of the strange gift made him swallow. Ancient runes were drawn on it body with charcoal. He only knew one. It had been embroidered on his mother's shroud. His first instinct was to just throw the thing on the forest floor, but he stopped at the last moment. It was almost as if he could feel Atar's gaze on him. The wind rustled through the leaves. Or was it a whisper?
Derylan didn't want to find out. He hurriedly put the doll in his breast pocket before entering the path and quickly walking towards the edge of the forest. Next time, he would take a carriage.