by E. L. Todd
Orgoom Forest
26
Accacia sat up in bed the following morning and looked at her surroundings in confusion, unsure of her location. It took her a moment to realize they were in her childhood home. How they made it there, Accacia couldn’t recall. The last moment she could remember was trekking through the forest towards the house, in the freezing snow, with no protection from winter’s malicious bite.
Accacia stood up and realized she was naked, which bewildered her even further. She searched for her clothes and spotted them laying on the floor with Aleco sleeping alongside them. Anger flooded her body as she contemplated what had transpired the night before. Accacia was angry the first time Aleco had undressed her, but now she was furious. Now that he had violated her trust and physically abused her, she had no tolerance for his obvious disrespect.
The sound of her dressing awoke Aleco. He sat up and rubbed his temples with his fingers, fighting a morning migraine. His voice was raspy. “How are you feeling, Accacia?” He had no idea Accacia was upset with him; he had done nothing wrong.
The inferno blazed in her emerald eyes. “Why am I always naked when I wake up with you?
Aleco looked at her in disbelief. He saved her life again, and had done it so many times that he couldn’t recall the number, and she accused him of some perverted motive? Aleco controlled his anger from escaping into his tone. “You collapsed on me in the woods. You were practically dead,” he said. “I carried you to the house, dropped your ungrateful ass into the tub of warm water, and then tucked you nicely into bed. If I hadn’t done so, you wouldn’t be here to argue something so petty.”
He rose to his feet and stared at her. “I removed your clothes to save your life! If I wanted to violate you, I would have done it already. I could have had you as many times as I wanted. I may have hurt you in the past, but I’ve never assaulted you and have given you no reason to suspect I ever would.”
The fire in her eyes dimmed as he spoke. He hoped she felt guilty about her unfounded accusation. It was obvious he wanted her but he would only take her if the feeling was mutual.
“This may come as a surprise to you,” he said, “but I like my women both willing and awake.”
Accacia crossed her arms over her chest and looked down, unsure how to react to his declaration. He looked at her and waited for her to say something, anything. When she remained mute, he dismissed himself.
“I’ll let myself out,” he said.
Aleco stepped towards the bedroom door and she grabbed his arm. “I apologize, Aleco,” she said. “I am grateful for what you did. Thank you.”
Aleco smiled. “You’re very welcome,” he mimicked Father Giloth.
Accacia chuckled at his impersonation.
“But you don’t need to thank me. I will always take care of you, Accacia,” he said. “You can trust me.”
Accacia dropped her smile and looked away, uncomfortable with his choice of words. “You should go,” she said.
“Please, Accacia.” He sighed. “Can we return to the way we were? Not as lovers, but as friends?”
“No,” she said. “When a stone grinds into sand, it can never become a rock again. The process is irreversible. I never want to speak of this again, Aleco. So please drop it.”
Aleco’s heart fell from his chest and dropped into his stomach. Accacia looked around the room, gazing at anything but him. She tightened her arms across her chest, cutting him off from any possible contact with her. Accacia turned her back to his forlorn expression and sat at the edge of the bed, waiting for him to leave the guestroom. Aleco had been tortured, physically bashed into unconsciousness, and broken beyond repair by the horrifying experiences he’d witnessed, but this rejection hurt more than all of them—combined. “I know you’ve been through a lot with Drake. I understand what a corrupt fiend he is. I know what he put you through was inexplicable, but you can’t let it consume you like this,” he said. “You need to let it go and move on—”
“You’re one to talk about moving on,” she said.
“It’s not the same thing,” he snapped. “You have a chance to be happy. I never will.”
Aleco stared at her. “I realize it hasn’t been much time to process your pain, but stop assuming every man is like him. Stop assuming I’m like him simply because I look like him. You’re punishing me for deeds I did not commit. I have done so many great things for you, but you don’t see any of that. You just see the momentary sliver of anger that shined through.”
Accacia sighed. “You don’t understand,” she said. “It’s not just what you did, Aleco. If you want, I can tell you, or better yet, I can show you, if it will help explain it.”
“What do you mean?”
“To show you why I can’t be with you; why I can’t let you in.”
“You want to show me a memory?”
“If it will help,” she said.
“Tell me what it is first.”
“Very well,” she said. “The first night I was captured by the duke he raped me, a transgression that may have no meaning to you, but was scarring nonetheless.” Of course it had meaning to him. Just the image in his mind made him insane with rage. “Anyway, when it was—happening, he squeezed my arms by my side, bruising them with his strength as he overpowered me, just as you did, and the look in his eye—it’s just too similar. When I look at you, I see him. It’s unfair, yes I know it is, but it’s the truth. How can I be with someone I am terrified of?”
“I don’t want to see the memory,” he said as he dropped his gaze. “Accacia, I understand your feelings, but they will go away eventually. You can’t ignore your feelings for me because of what some maniac did to you.”
“Yes, I can, Aleco, because I have no feelings for you,” she said. “I was simply caught in the moment when I thought you would meet your end. I wanted to return your affection as a last comfort.” Accacia wanted to destroy any hope he had for something happening between them. She knew she could never look past his identical features. She didn’t know how she felt for Aleco, but she knew she would never release her hate for Drake.
He saw the light of her eyes dim in despair. He recognized that look along with the sound of her voice. “I don’t know why you even bother,” he said. “Say whatever you want to make this easier, Accacia, but I recognize this for what it is: a lie.”
Aleco left her room and shut the door behind him. He entered the study and helped himself to a filled canter of brandy, despite the early morning light, downing it like water. It was hidden in the herb cabinet for some reason. Father Giloth entered the study in his night robe and was not surprised by Aleco’s unexpected appearance. He spotted the decanter he thought he had hidden so well.
Father Giloth sat behind his wooden desk. “Isn’t it a little early for such a beverage?” he asked with disapproval.
“Not for me,” Aleco said. He finished the contents of the glass and refilled it.
Father Giloth watched his movements and studied his depressed demeanor. He knew something was different. “You seem more grim than usual, Aleco,” he said.
Aleco ignored his comment. “Tell Natalia to prepare Asylinth Cottage. I’m going to stay there for the time being.”
“May I ask why?”
“No, you may not. Is there anything you need to tell me before I go?”
Father Giloth was quiet for a moment, silently pondering Aleco’s changed behavior. “Actually, I do need to speak with you, but I need to speak with Accacia also. I presume she is here as well?”
Aleco shattered the glass in his hand. “Yes,” he said.
Now the old man knew the cause of his behavior. “Well, I will give you a day of rest before we have our discussion. It is comprised of arduous material.”
“Where are the soldiers?” Aleco asked.
“They are patrolling the border. I had the joyous experience of them examining every inch of every shelter within the forest, until they were certain that Accacia was nowhere to be found. Now, the
y are guarding the border, no one enters or departs without their knowledge.”
Aleco laughed to himself.
“You should be safe in Asylinth Cottage. If they have any reason to speak with me, they will come here and I will keep Accacia out of sight until she leaves.”
“I sincerely hope you’ve found a new escort,” he said.
“What happened between the pair of you?”
Aleco ignored his question. “Tell Accacia that at midday, every day, we will continue our lessons, if she wishes,” he said. “I will meet her behind the cottage.”
Aleco rose from his chair and walked to the hidden door. “Would you like some breakfast before you leave?” Father Giloth asked.
Aleco shut the door behind him. His attitude and behavior had always been dark and forlorn, but Father Giloth had never seen him so wounded. He couldn’t imagine what Accacia had done to destroy Aleco’s already broken spirit. He was certain it wasn’t intentional.
Father Giloth heard sounds in the hallway and recognized Accacia’s beautiful voice. He left his study in search of her. Accacia’s comely face lit with joy at the sight of him and she fell into his warm embrace, welcoming the feeling of home. Father Giloth kissed her on the forehead.
“How are you, my dear?”
“I’m very happy to be back,” she said as she hugged Natalia, who returned the gesture with enthusiasm. Natalia had been in Accacia’s life since she was a small child, and she was as important a figure as Father Giloth. “I’m going to cook up some breakfast,” she said. “How does maple walnut pancakes sound?”
“It sounds delicious, Natalia.” She smiled. It was her favorite meal.
They sat in the dining room and discussed Accacia’s trip, which she omitted most of due to the content. They refrained from discussing her years of imprisonment with the duke, because Accacia didn’t want to speak about those horrifying experiences, and she was certain Father Giloth couldn’t bear to hear them.
Accacia looked at the vacant chair across from her and noticed Aleco’s absence. Father Giloth observed her gaze and answered her unspoken question. “Aleco requested to stay in Asylinth Cottage. He wanted me to tell you that you can continue your lessons every day, at midday, if you still wish to.”
Accacia looked down at her half-eaten pancakes, her appetite suddenly gone. She poked a lone walnut on her plate with her fork, her eyes downturned to her work.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Accacia didn’t look at him. “There is nothing to say, really.”
Father Giloth watched her in silence for a moment. He never pushed anyone into divulging information they were uncomfortable discussing, so it made his advice more difficult to give. “Accacia, as far as I am concerned, you are my daughter,” he said. “I have loved you like a father from the moment I first saw you, held you. You are one of the most important people in my life.” She smiled at his moving confession. “But I also feel this way about my son, Aleco.”
Accacia looked at him. She already understood their familial relationship and knew Aleco was his nephew, but since Father Giloth hoarded this knowledge, she assumed he didn’t want her to know about it. So she sat there quietly and listened.
“Yes, I consider Aleco as good as a son. I realize that is difficult for you to believe, since you never saw him as you aged, but that doesn’t make it untrue. I love him like my own child, and I will stand by him forever.
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, Aleco wouldn’t comment on it, but I sincerely hope the two of you can work it out. He is a good man, Accacia. He just has—issues at times.”
Orgoom Forest
27
Accacia trailed behind Father Giloth as he strode across the snow like a man in his youth. Father Giloth’s hair was as white as the ice crystals, with a beard that matched the color of winter. The skin of his hands and face sagged in wrinkles, but the agility of his body belied his age. Accacia forced herself to maintain his pace.
They were headed to the center of the forest to praise and worship the source of magic of the woods. The Loriuen Tree fueled the power of the forest. Accacia could see the top of the tree even from the other side of the forest, so majestic was its size. She felt the presence of the tree hum within her soul, calling to her as she stepped closer to it. Father Giloth felt the song of the tree as well and he began to hum in accordance with the natural vibrations emitted from the soul of the tree. Accacia smiled as she listened to his hum and added her voice to his. They used to do this often when she lived within the forest as a Naturalist, and the familiar activity made her smile.
Accacia and Father Giloth stepped past the last line of trees before a wide meadow opened to the foot of the Loriuen Tree, which was vacant except for the growth of wild grass. The massive roots covered the ground before they dug deep into the earth, extracting enough water to feed the massive stump of the tree. Accacia stared at the Loriuen Tree in awe; it was a sight she would never grow tired of.
“It is a heavenly sight, isn’t it?” Father Giloth asked.
“Yes.”
“You have all your supplies, dear?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good,” he said. “Let’s pamper this mighty oak.”
Accacia shoveled the snow away from the stump of the tree, clearing the area of the freezing ice that covered the roots and the forest floor. She examined the abrasions of the bark and tended to the cuts with plant oil, sealing the cracks from invasion of parasitic insects. She sang to the tree as she tended to its needs, and heard Father Giloth join her voice with his own song.
She was uncovering a patch of snow, pushing against the bark, when she saw something unusual—a patch a newly upturned soiled, which had been repacked into the earth. It appeared that someone had buried something under the tree or had stolen an item. “Father Giloth!” she yelled around the curve of the tree. The stump was massive and she couldn’t see Father Giloth on the other side. The lack of response made her realize he probably hadn’t heard her. She continued to walk around the tree until she spotted two other piles, which looked identical to the original soil she found. Digging near the Loriuen Tree was forbidden by law; the act was treacherous. She couldn’t understand why anyone who voluntarily lived in these woods, and therefore respected this tree, would perform such a heinous act. “Father!”
Father Giloth finally rounded the tree with a look of concern. “Are you alright, Accacia?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Look at this,” she said as she pointed to the patch of upturned soil. “There are four others just like it.”
Father Giloth stared at the piles of soil but said nothing. He bent down and examined each patch with his hand. “The tree is in no pain,” he said. Father Giloth felt the hum of the tree in his ears and knew it was safe. He communicated directly with the tree, the Nature God, and it informed him of the wisdom he was renowned for. The Naturalists assumed Father Giloth drew his powers from the oak staff he carried, but in fact, it was derived from the tree itself. The Nature Priest was the guardian of the tree, and it was his responsibility to protect it against any harm. The tree was magical in ways even Father Giloth could not explain. He knew the death of the tree would be the death of them all. “The tree is safe,” he assured her.
“This is still unacceptable,” she said as she ran her hands through the dirt. “It’s a desecration of holy ground. Why would someone do this?”
Father Giloth grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He smiled at her. “The tree is content and unharmed, that’s all that matters.”
“Guards should be posted to protect the tree,” she insisted. “I couldn’t live on if something had tarnished the purity of the Loriuen Tree.”
“I couldn’t either, dear,” he said. “I will have the Naturalists patrol the tree in turns.”
“Thank you, Father.”
He nodded.
“What are the thoughts of the tree today?” she
asked as she ran her hands over the smooth bark. She felt the heartbeat of the tree through her palms, and her body shivered at the contact. She was touching the afterlife.
“It does not communicate the way you and I do, or any human for that matter, because it does not speak in words, or even images—but feelings.”
“How do you understand the tree’s meaning?”
“I’m not certain. I believe the gift of understanding comes with the office. This allows only the true Nature Priest to communicate with the Loriuen Tree. Only he can hear its secrets.”
“What secrets does it tell you?” she asked as she walked around the tree and stared into the canopy, forty feet in the air.
“Many secrets,” he said. “Some are significant, such as an approaching earthquake, and others of less importance, such as the birth of a beetle.”
“That’s amazing,” she whispered. “Does it tell you how to use your powers?”
“Yes,” he said. “She has taught me everything I know.”
“It’s a she?” she asked with interest.
“Well, the Nature God has no human gender role, since it is manifested in the form of a tree, but when she speaks to me, her voice has a female aspect—her feelings seem motherly.”
Accacia nodded.
“Is there anything else you need to do before we leave?” he asked. “Do you have your supplies?”
“Yes, I have everything,” she said. “But I need to do something before we leave.” Accacia fell to her knees and faced the tree. “I need to pray.”
Father Giloth stepped back and let her worship the tree in silence. The song of her voice carried to the canopy of leaves and danced in the wind to her song. She sang loudly, praising the tree and its gifts, thanking the Nature God for the life she was given. She brought the music to an end.
“That was very beautiful, Accacia,” he said. “The tree enjoyed it immensely.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “I hope my voice is worthy.”
They left the clearing and returned to Asylinth House. Father Giloth could hear the agony of the tree with every step they took away from its grounds. The sound of Accacia’s voice pleased the tree and it was upset to feel her leave its presence. It wanted her to stay for always; singing love abodes to its leaves forever. The tree had questioned the Nature Priest every day about Accacia when she was stolen from the forest. It demanded to know when she would return. The knowledge that she may never reappear angered the Nature God. As soon as Accacia stepped into the borders of the Orgoom Forest, it knew she reappeared to its ground, and continually ordered Father Giloth to bring Accacia to its roots. Father Giloth never mentioned its attachment to Accacia because he feared it would frighten her—it was enough to frighten him.
