Chapter Text
There's a boy in the forest. And he's hurt.
I know that humans sometimes get hurt and they don't get better. I know this because of my mother. I don't understand why I have been granted the ability to heal my own wounds and not they.
I can at least heal others' wounds. I tried it on an injured deer once. I suspect its original purpose was so vampires could continuously feed on humans. The thought turns my stomach even after all these years.
It's cold now. Cold-cold. Winter cold and burning frost and lethal branches now girded with ice. Sunlight gleaming doubly bright over swathes of snow.
All the animals have gone to sleep. I wish I could, too. I wish I could sleep for a hundred years so that maybe the ache of immortality would dull.
So that maybe one day I could become little more than seeds on the wind.
More like ash, I suppose.
I crash through the snowdrifts. The boy is drawing me closer. Not just because his blood smells like cinnamon and heat, but because of how much there is. Sloppy footprints in the snow. Divots where he's dragged himself along. I can't understand it. How could he be so strong?
If I were him, I don't think I could.
My throat is burning with thirst—I can't help it, especially in these long months—but I'm not thinking about it. I'm thinking about the boy I've finally found.
There's snow in his bronze curls. Ice seeping down his ruddy cheeks. His body is slowly being borne into the snow. He fainted half-movement, arms stretched forward, legs curled in. There's a thicket of broken-off vines keeping him snared.
I lean down to try and find the source of his blood. It's too much, I can't. My head is spinning.
I take one of his big hands, shocked by the feeling of contact. Nobody's touched me since I was five, and that was to throw me out of the village for being an abomination.
Is he dead? Sleeping? I lean close, nosing along his neck to find his pulse.
He screams.
Loud-loud, breaking the sacred quiet of the forest and almost giving me a heart attack.
He knows. He knows I'm a monster and he doesn't want me near him. I fall backward.
His breaths are heaving. "W-who…"
Human voices. I've forgotten how they sound. His is deep and warm and tugs at my chest.
I try to open my mouth but my throat is clogged and my tongue is heavy.
I know how to listen, but I've forgotten how to speak. Animals don't need to hear my voice.
He's closed his eyes again, slipping back to sleep. Edging closer, I grab his face between my hands, ever-so-softly.
His eyes flutter open again. Snow dusts his brows; with one careful finger, I brush the flakes away.
Little crystal tears roll down his cheeks. He blinks up at me, slow and pained. "Hello."
I turn the word over and over in my head like he's just given me a treasure. I never want to forget.
"Can you help me?" he whispers. "Or, you know, if you're going to eat me, maybe be quick?"
Eat him? But why would I—
Oh.
He's staring down at my teeth. They stick out over my lips and I can't get them to pull back in. I've long stopped trying, because I never thought someone would find me here.
I even started accepting it, though it was a heavy stone pulling me slowly earthward.
Now he's here, looking so beautiful. Needing help.
I don't know what to do. And I hate not knowing. Not knowing means I didn't stop something when I could've. Even the hardest truths are easier to swallow than empty promises.
And it dawns on me suddenly that he might not live. But I don't want him to die afraid. I never want someone to feel scared like I was when they took me away from Auntie and left me in the dark.
I could've gone back. But I didn't want to hear them call me a monster anymore.
Gently, slowly, I move toward him and run a finger down his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into my touch.
I bundle him up safe and sound, and he weakly wraps heavy limbs around my neck, staring up at me with clear blue eyes.
He's such a wonder.
I remind myself for the thousandth time who i am. Who I've become. More forest than boy. More broken than whole.
We run through the cold. I don't ask him what happened; he's barely conscious, breathing unsteadily against my throat. I hold him closer.
"I'm Simon," he whispers at last. "Just in case I die and someone's wondering what happened to me."
I raise an eyebrow at him. There are probably a hundred Simons that live on the outskirts of this forest.
"I was a knight," he whispers, his voice shaking. "But I—I didn't want to hurt anymore. Sir Cadwallader tried to hurt me. I think he wanted something of mine." He's crying again. I reach down and brush the tears from his cheeks. They steam against my icy fingers.
"I thought… I thought it would be different. Like an adventure. Only I just kept getting hurt and I kept losing friends and there was nothing to celebrate except another kill. I'm not even sure what we were fighting for."
My hand comes to rest in his hair. He cries harder and I almost pull away but he makes a sound of protest.
"What was it all about?" he whispers. "Where were we going to?"
I shake my head. I know little of human affairs. I don't know why people hurt others. And keep hurting them. I don't know why.
There's the cave in the distance. I run a little harder, even though I feel hollow and lost and lonely. Have for a long time, I think.
Being a night creature means there's always something lacking. That no matter how hard you try, you'll always be wanting more.
I don't know what being a human means. Other than freckles and bronze curls and a sunshine smile.
I don't know if I need to know more than that.
The mouth of the cave is draped in moss. I gently lift it—it's gone spiderweb-fragile in the snow—and duck inside, careful to maneuver Simon so he doesn't bump his head.
Moonlight steals through the gaps to illuminate my violin against the wall, the pile of furs and blankets I've woven over the years, and Mother's book. Simon gazes at the cave silently for a moment as I guide him toward the furs.
"Did you make this?" he whispers. "I mean—you live here?"
I've tried to decorate it tastefully over the years, so I can't help but preen a little as I nod.
"Remarkable," he whispers.
I lay him down tenderly and, because I can't resist, press a kiss to his forehead. He reaches up and grabs my hand. "Stay here?"
I wasn't planning on it. Humans have customs and implications for these types of things.
"Don't look at me weird!" He giggles. "I'm just cold."
I won't be able to help him with that.
He tugs more insistently, then seems to realize what he's doing and stops. "Sorry."
I hesitate a moment longer before walking around to the other side of the pile and climbing inside, still in my furs. Tomorrow, I'll heal his wounds and set him free. He has a life to go back to.
But for tonight… he wraps his arms around me and lays his head against my shoulder. It feels so nice, so soothing, like…
"What is it?" He looks up at me worriedly, but he must see something in my face because he just smiles and pushes a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Can I stay here?" he says. "With you?"
I blink at him. He's already here.
He laughs. "I mean… for longer. Maybe a couple months?"
He yawns, smiling loosely at me. I can't understand why.
But instead I just nod.
He grins. "Thank you. You saved me." He snuggles against me and goes to sleep and he's so warm.
No, Simon. You saved me.