Through The Shifting Trees

Chapter 7 The Road to Reckoning

The stables smelled of fresh hay, damp earth, and something sharp—like charged air before a storm. I hesitated at the entrance, my fingers gripping the wooden frame as I took in the creatures before me.

Qilin.

They were nothing like the warhorses I had seen in mythology textbooks, nor the unicorns from childhood fairy tales. Each one was unique—some with iridescent scales glinting like gemstones, others with flowing manes that shimmered as they moved. Their horns varied, from sleek and curved to jagged like lightning frozen in time. Some didn't have manes or horns at all. Some were beautiful in an ethereal way, others carried an air of intimidation that sent a chill down my spine.

A massive qilin stood at the center, his deep blue scales edged in silver, like the night sky moments before dawn. His gaze settled on me, intelligent and unreadable.

"That's Rowan's," Bunny said beside me, her voice hushed with reverence.

Rowan ran a hand down the qilin's neck, his expression softer than I'd ever seen it. The beast huffed, watching me closely.

"He'll let you ride with me," Rowan said. "Just introduce yourself."

I swallowed hard, stepping forward. The qilin lowered his head just slightly, enough for me to see my reflection in his dark, knowing eyes.

Hello," I whispered. "I'm Eloise."

I glanced at Rowan, who stood beside me, his posture relaxed, and yet there's something about the way he watches the creature that makes it clear this isn't just any bond between them. It's a partnership.

"You're with him and me for the ride," Rowan says, his voice soft but confident. "He's the most accepting of the group."

I nod, a bit nervous but oddly comforted by the way the qilin stands still, waiting for my touch. I step closer, reaching out slowly, and the creature tilts its head slightly, letting me run my fingers against its neck. It wasn't like touching a horse—nothing so familiar. The scales were smooth and firm, cool beneath my fingertips, almost like polished stone. But as I traced along the ridge where the scales met a mane of silken fur, the texture softened, shifting like velvet under my touch.

We're ready for the ride now.

⸻

The journey starts easily enough. The qilin move with a fluid grace that's almost hypnotic. I can hear their hooves softly striking the earth as we travel through the dense forest. The first day passes quickly—almost too quickly. My eyes scan the landscape around me, absorbing the beauty of the forest. The towering trees, the thick underbrush, and the patches of wildflowers that seem to grow in abundance everywhere. There's so much I don't know, and the thought of documenting it all fills me with excitement. I pull my journal out from the satchel at my side and begin to jot down notes, making sure to capture the plants and flowers I've never seen before. There's something so exhilarating about it—the discovery, the possibility of new knowledge.

Ash rides beside me for much of the day, occasionally offering her thoughts on the surroundings. She's intelligent, sharp, and I find myself enjoying the rare moments of quiet conversation between us. It's different, this kind of company. Her focus on the world around her mirrors mine, and it's easy to find common ground when the landscape demands such attention.

I glance over at her, her gaze settled on the path ahead. "What do you think of all this?" I ask, gesturing to the dense forest around us.

She looks up at me, her eyes thoughtful. "It's alive, isn't it? The trees, the plants... you can feel it. It's so different from earth. It's like you can feel that everything has spirit." I continue.

She nods, "Most places aren't like this anymore. The capital has drained the life out of most of Drysten. I'd like to learn more about what Earth was like for you." I frown at the thought of this being threatened but I'm grateful for the quiet understanding between us and promise to answer any questions she has about my home world.

By the time the sun begins to dip low in the sky, we've made good progress. The forest starts to change its character as we enter a new part of the land, one that feels more open, with wide spaces between the trees and the ground covered in soft moss. It's peaceful, and I feel the weight of the journey lift a little.

⸻

The morning light filters through the trees, the air crisp and fresh. We've only been traveling for a few hours when something shifts—something feels off. The air grows tense and the sounds of the birds still.

I spot movement up ahead, just beyond a bend in the trail, and my instincts flare. Before I can react, a group of figures appears from behind the trees, blocking the path.

They're filthy, with faces twisted in greed. "Give us the cart and you will live to reach your destination." One snarls, holding out a sword. He's tall—about Cedar's height—but lacks any real muscle. My heart hammers in my chest. Stay out of the way, I tell myself.

When they spot me, their expressions shift from surprise to recognition. "The human," another one of them says, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Your face is plastered on every bounty board from here to the capital, girl."

I tense up. They seem shocked, baffled by the idea of finding me here. They step forward. "Forget the cart. Get the girl."

"Yeah, we've got time," another one sneers, eyeing me with a look that makes my stomach churn. "We'll take our time with you, I've never had a human woman before." He laughs. My skin crawls and disgust sweeps through me.

I can feel the heat rise in my chest, but before I can say anything, Cedar and Moss are on them. The battle is swift, brutal, and over almost as soon as it begins. The bandits are no match for the fierce skill of our group. Cedar's rage burns hot, his eyes flashing with fury as he cuts down the attackers. Their bodies hitting the ground one after another. Moss moves with the silent efficiency of a predator, her sharp eyes never leaving her targets.

When it's over, the forest falls into an eerie quiet. The only sound is the heavy breathing of the qilin and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. I swallow hard, trying to shake the feeling of unease that lingers.

Cedar is still tense, his anger seething beneath the surface. I can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the tightness of his posture. He turns away abruptly, not looking at anyone. I've seen that kind of fury before—the kind that doesn't need words to be understood. "Let's move." He orders.

⸻

That night, as we settle down to sleep, I can't find rest. The encounter with the bandits has left a bitter taste in my mouth, and no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the feeling of their eyes on me.

I lie awake, staring up at the stars, listening to the soft sounds of the forest. I sit up with a heavy sigh.

After what feels like an eternity, Cedar sits beside me. He doesn't say anything at first, just watching the fire crackle between us, casting flickering shadows over his face. He's quiet. I can't help but search his features. His shoulders are still tense, his jaw still clenched. The anger hasn't left him—not completely.

I watch him, waiting for him to say something, but when he finally speaks, his voice is quieter than I expect.

"They wanted you. Not the cart. Not the supplies. You."

A chill runs down my spine as the memories from early surface. I swallow hard. "I know."

Cedar shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "You did what I told you. Stayed out of the way. And it still wasn't enough."

I frown, hugging my arms around myself. "What else was I supposed to do?"

His gaze flicks to me, sharp and unreadable. "Not be here." The words are blunt, but there's no real bite behind them—just something raw, something close to exhaustion. He looks away, rubbing a hand over his face. "But it's too late for that now."

I shift, pressing my fingers into the dirt beneath me, grounding myself. "I didn't ask for any of this."

Cedar lets out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Neither did we."

What the hell does he expect from me? Frustration bubbled up my chest. I do what he says and he's pissed. I don't do what he says and he's pissed. I can't win with him.

Silence stretches between us, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. The weight of the day still lingers, pressing down on my chest. I glance at Cedar, half expecting him to walk away, but he stays.

After a long moment, he exhales, tilting his head back to look at the stars. "You're adjusting well, all things considered."

It's not exactly a compliment, but from Cedar, it feels close enough. I huff a quiet laugh. "That almost sounded like praise."

He side-eyes me. "Don't get used to it."

The corner of my mouth twitches. "Duly noted."

For the first time tonight, the tension eases just slightly. Cedar pokes at the fire with a stick, his expression unreadable. "You really keep a journal of all this?"

I nod. "Every plant, every creature, everything I don't understand yet. Which is... a lot."

His lips twitch, almost like he wants to smirk but won't allow himself. "That doesn't surprise me."

I raise a brow. "Because I ask too many questions?"

"Because you don't stop looking at everything like it's a puzzle you have to solve."

I blink, caught off guard. I'm not sure if he meant it as an insult or an observation, but something about the way he says it makes my chest feel lighter.

"That's not a bad thing, you know," I say after a moment.

Cedar hums, noncommittal. But he doesn't argue. And somehow, that feels like progress.

I don't remember falling asleep but by midday, the trees thin out until I see it—a village called Duskmere. The name itself echoes with melancholy. I tighten my grip on my saddle as Rowan's qilin leads the way toward what once must have been a thriving settlement.

Duskmere is almost entirely deserted. A broken fence, its weathered posts jutting out like the remains of old bones, marks the entrance. As we ride into what appears to have been a bustling marketplace, I see empty stalls with torn canopies and decaying goods scattered about. A stone well stands in the center, its surface cracked and worn, its bucket long since vanished. Houses sag under the weight of time, their shutters hanging loosely as if mourning lost days.

I can't help but feel the contrast. Annora, with its vibrant life and shifting, magical energy, feels warm and pulsating in comparison. Here, even the wind seems weary. I murmur, "What happened to this place?"

Rowan's qilin snorts uneasily, and Cedar answers without meeting my eyes: "The Capital happened."

I swallow hard, understanding that this decay is the legacy of a power that drains life from everything. Standing in Duskmere, surrounded by the ghosts of what once was, I feel the sting of loss—and a resolve to remember what truly matters.

We halted the qilin at the edge of a small square, the only hint of life being a few children running around the decrepit market stalls. There were no lush trees, no vibrant green, only the faintest traces of life lingering where it could.

A short, portly man with a wide smile and a monocle hanging from one eye approached us. His hair was silvering at the temples, and he walked with an energetic bounce, a stark contrast to the village's bleakness. He had warm, tawny skin, gentle eyes, and a pair of small, spiraled horns emerging from his thick, curly hair. His goat-like legs and cloven hooves add to his rustic charm.

"Ah, Annora's finest!" he exclaimed, his voice booming with warmth. "Larkin at your service!" He tipped his hat in a grand gesture before turning to the cart with a gleam in his eye. "You've brought the goods, I see! My granddaughter will be thrilled—her studies, bless her heart, could use a few extra books."

He wasted no time in unloading the cart, his words spilling out with every motion. "It's not easy, you know, keeping the village afloat with what little we have left. The Capital—well, you know how they are, no care for the little folk. But you lot? You've been nothing but generous. Can't tell you how much it means to us. Not enough folks around here to help anymore, but we manage." He paused, beaming at the lot of us.

As he went on, a young girl appeared from behind one of the nearby buildings, her dark braids bouncing as she skipped forward. She was around thirteen, bright-eyed, and curious, with an energy that seemed to defy the grim surroundings.

"Grandfather! The books arrived?" she asked, her voice high and eager.

Larkin chuckled, lifting a heavy bundle of books in his arms. "And then some! Here, take these to your studies, young lady. We'll make a scholar out of you yet."

The girl smiled brightly, giving a polite nod to each of us before disappearing down the road with the books clutched to her chest. Larkin watched her go before turning back to us, wiping his hands on his trousers.

"Now, where was I? Oh! That's right—more gratitude than I could possibly express." He gave a hearty laugh, his eyes twinkling. "You all are welcome here, anytime. No need to rush off so quickly. I can't offer much, but a meal or a night's rest—it's the least I can do."

As I watched him continue to talk, his endless stream of words somehow felt comforting amidst the desolation. Despite the heavy air of the village, Larkin's presence brought a warmth I hadn't expected. It reminded me of Annora, in its own way—a place where the bond of community still had a chance to thrive.

I watched Larkin bustle around, talking a mile a minute, I couldn't help but feel a bit of warmth in the contrast between him and the village. He was a reminder that even in places like Duskmere, life could still find a way to persist. The conversation might have been endless, but there was a sincerity in his words that made me feel like—despite the quiet desperation of the village—there was still hope here. Maybe not for everything to be fixed, but for it to be sustained, even if just for a little longer.

I glanced around again, taking in the crumbling buildings, the faint scent of mildew on the wind. It was hard to reconcile this place with Annora, where everything seemed so alive, so full of possibility. In Annora, the forest whispered to you with every step. But here? The silence seemed heavy, almost like the weight of the Capital's cruelty hung over every cobblestone.

Yet, despite the village's decay, I could feel something else beneath it all—a kind of resilience. The people here, though beaten down, were holding on. Larkin was proof of that. He radiated energy, and that energy seemed to fuel the small community that remained in Duskmere.

I tried to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this. To feel the shadow of the Capital always looming. How long would the people here be able to keep going like this? How long before the last of the light flickered out?

The thought lingered as Larkin finished unloading the cart, his words a constant background hum. He was giving us the information we needed, but I couldn't help but wonder what kind of future these people had, if any.

"Stay as long as you like," Larkin offered again, catching me lost in thought. "I'll see to it that you're comfortable."

I forced a smile, but I couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how many times we came, we were merely putting a temporary bandage on a wound that would only grow deeper with time. Still, I had a feeling Larkin and the others would continue to fight, no matter how grim things seemed. And for that, they had my respect.

A figure emerged from the shadows of the nearby buildings—a tall, fox-like man with amber eyes that gleamed in the sunlight. His fur was a warm reddish-brown, and his movements were fluid, almost predatory in the way he carried himself.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" His voice was smooth, like honey poured over rocks, and his grin was far too charming for comfort. He flashed a wide smile as he approached, completely at ease. "Cedar!" he called, waving with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Been a while, old friend."

Cedar's face shifted ever so slightly at the sound of the voice, his jaw tightening, though he didn't seem particularly surprised. "Rex," he said with a half-grin, clearly used to the man's antics. "I didn't expect you here today."

Rex's grin only widened, his ears flicking back in amusement. "Well, I can't stay away when there's sparring to be had. You've been holding back, haven't you?" His eyes gleamed with playful challenge, and he swaggered forward like he owned the place. "I've heard about your new skills. Figured I'd come see for myself."

Cedar just rolled his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, unbothered by the remark. "We'll see if you're still in shape after I'm done with you," he shot back, clearly used to Rex's teasing.

Rex chuckled, but before he could say anything more, his eyes flicked over to me. They softened, a shift in his expression that felt almost predatory, but in a way that was purely about charm. His gaze lingered a moment too long, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

And who do we have here?" Rex asked, his voice shifting to something smoother, more calculated. He took a step closer, studying me with an easy, almost knowing smile. "Cedar, you failed to introduce me to your new friend." He extended a hand, his fingers long and elegant. "Rex. It's a pleasure."

I felt an immediate heat rise to my face, unsure of how to react to this sudden attention. Still, I extended my hand in return, keeping my voice steady. "I'm Eloise."

"Eloise," he repeated, the way he said my name almost like a promise. He eyed me, assessing, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his interest than mere pleasantries. "A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. I must say, to been. a long time since I've come across someone as ravishing as you."

I swallowed. The way he looked at me, like he was appraising some rare, delicate treasure, made my skin crawl a little, but I forced a smile anyway. Cedar's presence beside me, though, was like a wall, keeping Rex from getting too close.

Cedar cleared his throat, his voice low and dangerous. "Rex, don't you have somewhere to be?"

Rex didn't take the hint immediately. Instead, he leaned in just a little closer, that flirtatious glint still in his eyes. "Oh, come on. I'm just being friendly." He turned toward Cedar with a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to introduce me to the lady properly?"

Cedar's jaw tightened as he looked at Rex, he didn't spare me a glance but his voice remained even. "She's not interested."

The words were short, clipped—and the way they were said made it clear Cedar wasn't about to tolerate any of Rex's usual nonsense. My brows furrowed. He was right, but who was he to decide that?

Rex, however, wasn't easily discouraged. He stepped back with a soft laugh, though it was tinged with the slightest edge of frustration. "Always so serious, Cedar." He threw a casual glance over his shoulder at me, his grin back in full force. "We'll talk again, Eloise. You're far too interesting to be left to the side for long."

I was too stunned by his forwardness to do much more than nod, unsure of how to react.

Cedar had already turned his back to Rex, his hands running through his hair, looking at the rest of the village and the work still to be done. But I could see the tightness in his posture, the subtle clenching of his jaw. He was so striking. It was hard not to stare at him.

Rex, seeming to take the hint, gave Cedar an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. I'll let you finish your chores." His eyes flicked back to me one last time. "But, Eloise," he added with a wink, "don't think you've seen the last of me."

With that, he turned and began walking away, his confident gait matching his overbearing personality. I watched him go, feeling a mix of confusion and unease swirl in my stomach.

Cedar, on the other hand, seemed entirely unimpressed. He didn't look at me as he spoke, but I could hear the tension in his voice. "Don't mind him," he muttered. "He's always like this. Thinks he's the life of the party."

I glanced at him, a little surprised at the way Rex had managed to rile him up. "He's—forward."

Cedar gave a short, bitter laugh, though his eyes never met mine. "That's one way to put it."

I wanted to ask more, but before I could, Rex's voice drifted back over his shoulder. "I'll be around, Cedar. Don't forget, we still have that sparring match."

Cedar didn't respond. He just sighed heavily as he turned to Larkin, who was still busy with the cart. It was clear that whatever Rex's intentions were, they didn't sit well with Cedar—but he wasn't about to let it show.

I felt an odd tension in the air as we continued our work, each of us quietly focusing on the task at hand. I wasn't sure what to make of Rex's flirtations or Cedar's response. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was simmering beneath the surface.

I wasn't sure whether to be curious or cautious. The sun beat down on us, making me miss the chilly night air.

As if on cue when we finished, Rex and another man came back to walk with us toward the training grounds.

As Rex continued down the street, his cocky swagger still echoing behind him, I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling his attention had left on me. My hands were still a bit clammy, and I tried to focus on something else, anything else.

But, of course, Bunny chose that moment to appear. She strolled over with her usual easy confidence, her long blonde curls bouncing with each step. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she glanced between me and the retreating form of Rex and the other men ahead of us.

"Seems like Rex has taken quite an interest in you, Eloise," she said, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You two might make a fun pair. Why don't you hang out with him before we leave tonight? You might enjoy the charm he's so eager to show off." She hinted.

I felt my face flush instantly. "I—uh, no thanks," I stammered, suddenly very aware of how hot my skin felt. "He's... he's a little much."

Bunny raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my flustered reaction. "Oh, don't act so surprised. He's the type to charm anyone with a pulse, but if you're ever bored, I'm sure he'd be happy to entertain you." She wiggled her brows. I hate how flustered I get.

Cedar glanced back, our eyes met before he turned back to say something to Bug making him laugh. "I'm not sure I'm brave enough" I stated truthfully. I've always been shy and reserved, I couldn't imagine. No, that's a lie, I could definitely Imagine but getting there is a different story.

Bunny laughed softly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, I'm just saying, Eloise. Might be fun to see where it goes. Or not. Up to you." She winked and added, "But if you do decide to give him a chance, let me know. I'll be happy to give you a few pointers on how to survive the Rex experience. He's killer in bed and you need to blow off some steam."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Sure I'll keep that in mind," I said, trying to sound more composed than I felt.

Bunny chuckled and gave me a gentle shove. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you to your thoughts. But don't say I didn't warn you."

As she walked ahead to catch up with the men I could still feel the teasing glint of her eyes.

I couldn't seem to shake the image of Rex's cocky grin or Bunny's sly comment from my mind. I can't decide if Rex was charming, unsettling or both. Maybe she's right, I should blow off some stem.