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Chapter 72

Makina was bored. Incredibly bored. Another three weeks had passed and Cross had still yet to return. Her worry for him was quickly fading to annoyance that he had yet to return or even send message. Even more bothersome was the fact that no one else seemed overly troubled by his tardiness, though she could at least feel a slight sense of apprehension from Lexi. It was hard to tell if the feeling was worry or anger. She also felt, but did not vocalize, that part of the reason for that may have been due to the fact that Lexi’s focus was often fixated elsewhere.

Sammir had become an often seen figure outside of the guild. More often than not he would spend the day with Lexi, or at the very least take her out to dinner. Makina had met him a handful of times. He seemed polite enough to her, but Romeo had loudly complained about his presence, though not loud enough for it to ever get back to Lexi.

The loudmouthed mage was missing now, though, and Makina almost missed having his loud voice bouncing around the guildhall. Servilia had mentioned in passing that he had gone off to serve as a bodyguard for a short time. He was apparently highly valued as such. Makina could understand that. Romeo enjoyed fighting, perhaps a bit too much. Simply having him around would deter many from trying anything unsavory.

With Cross absent, Lexi busy and Romeo gone, Makina had spent a good portion of the morning watching Banksy work his way through various locks. It was extremely boring. More boring than simply staring out the window. With a harrumph she rapped her knuckles on the table.

“Busy,” Banksy grunted as he slowly twisted his hand around. A slight glow emanated from the ring that adorned his pinky.

Makina tapped on the table harder.

“You know what might be fun?” Banksy said without looking up. “Why don’t you go see if Servilia has something for you to do? You’ve been here a while now. Take a request.”

“That sounds like work. Goddess don’t work,” Makina said, but she still hopped up from the table and made her way over to the request board.

It was far fuller than she had ever seen it before in her short time at the guild. Names, numbers, and dates jumped out at her from the pages that had originally been carefully pinned into place, but had quickly become haphazardly piled.

Makina pulled one down and held it at eye level. It was promptly plucked from her hands and replaced by Servilia.

“Excuse you! I was reading that,” Makina snapped.

“I don’t think vampire hunting is quite within your skill level yet, Makina,” Servilia smiled.

“I am a Goddess, nothing is beyond my level of skill or ability.”

“Still, let me find something more suited for you,” Servilia urged gently. “I promise I’ll keep an eye out for something good.”

Makina mulled the offer over. “Very well… but make it quick. I have long grown bored of staring at these walls.”

“Well, you could always learn a new skill while you wait,” Servilia said as she returned to her desk. “The Mistress is always willing to train.”

Makina made a face. “I do not need mortal weapons. Magic is more than adequate.”

“Perhaps,” Servilia said. “But they say that a strong body is tantamount to a strong magical presence. I believe you told me that your brother, Rah, is extremely powerful, both physically and magically.”

“He is just a giant oaf,” Makina said sulkily.

“Consider the offer,” Servilia said. “If you show enough development, other members may actually invite you to join them on jobs. That would alleviate your boredom, you know.”

“I will consider it,” Makina said with an offhand wave. “For now, you simply work on finding me a request befitting for my divine self.”

Servilia laughed lightly. “I shall do my best.”

xXx

Cross watched impassively as Misa notched four arrows onto her bow. The tips gleamed wickedly, smeared with sap from a tree that Misa assured him would cause unimaginable pain were they to even scratch his skin. She seemed to know of many plants with similar effects, a fact that had left him constantly wary of the meals she had supplied him, many containing plants and berries that he had next to no knowledge about.

He shifted his weight slightly as Misa drew the bowstring back and trained the arrows on his chest. The rain slapped against his head and shoulders, but he had nearly grown used to the feeling. He pushed his wet hair out of his face as the bow creaked.

His eyes began to close, but only halfway, as his mind went blank.

With a sharp twang, Misa released the arrows. Two would head towards his chest, one his head, and the fourth would go off wide.

With a sharp twang, Misa released the arrows.

Cross’s eyes opened fully. Misa had changed her plan. He slid forward and twisted passed the first two arrows that Misa had released. She drew her arm back and released the third. Cross slid on his knees across the rain-slicked branch and came back to his feet just as she released the fourth arrow. With a deft move he brought up his armored wrist and deflected the arrow before pouncing on Misa.

A thorn appeared in her left hand and she thrust at him. Cross sidestepped the attack, and then ducked under the reversal. Spinning, he came up behind her. His hand was up to block her kick before she had even begun the action. He trapped her ankle within his grasp and tugged her off balance. She spun around, allowing him to hold her weight as she brought up her other foot in a kick towards his head. Cross’s arm blocked the attack, but he was forced to release Misa and she flipped back to her feet.

Cross brought his fists up, ready for the next round, when he felt somthing warm run down his face. Blinking, he stepped back and reached his fingers up to his nose.

Blood.

Blood was slowly dripping from his nose. Cross shook his head as a sharp, sudden throb went through his temple.

Misa’s postured relaxed slightly and she lowered the thorn.

“How do you feel?” she called out.

“I’m…” Black spots appeared on Cross’s vision and he tried to blink them away. He tasted copper in his mouth. “I’m alright.”

Misa let the thorn drop to the rushing flood below them and walked over towards Cross. “I believe that is enough for today.”

“No, I’m fine,” Cross said. He wiped the blood away with his sleeve, but more quickly replaced it. The crimson liquid dripped down his chip and onto his shirt before being quickly washed away by the ever-driving rain.

Misa stared at him through narrowed eyes.

“I’m fine,” Cross repeated. He resisted reaching up to touch his temple. “Let’s keep going.”

“No, you are not,” Misa said, but a long spear appeared in her hand.

She charged forward and thrust towards him. Cross saw the movement before Misa’s arm had begun to cock back. He slid his left foot back, allowing his body to twist to the side and let the spear pass in front of him. Misa swiped to the side to throw him off balance, but he nimbly ducked under the shaft. Misa continued with the momentum of her swing, spinning around to gain power.

Cross could see it clearly, even as the blood roared in his ears and the pressure in his head began to build towards and unbearable level.

She would come to a sudden stop and pull back before driving forward. The spear would be aimed for his chest. She would expect him to twist away again and in that moment she would slide forward to deliver a kick to his side.

Misa’s spear swung around but before it made contact she came to a sudden stop. She pulled back a step before driving forward, putting all of her weight behind the strike. Cross twisted away from the attack and Misa slide forward. Cross swung his fist around to catch her off guard before she could follow up with her kick, but Misa was already ducking under his attack, the spear slipping from her fingers. She came up behind him, a razor sharp thorn in either hand.

Cross cried out in pain and shock as Misa brought both the thorns down in a diagonal motion across his back, sheering through his tunic and raking the tips against his skin. He tried to keep his balance, but Misa delivered a sharp kick to the back of his knee. Unable to support his weight, Cross collapsed and the match came to a bloody end.

“You couldn’t see it?” Misa asked as she helped pull Cross to his feet.

“I saw it, but it happened too fast,” Cross coughed out with a healthy amount of blood. “Got double vision. I couldn’t follow both of them.”

“A good lesson to remember. Your ability to use this in combat is extremely limited. You should not put faith in it alone.” Misa said, she reached up touched his ear. Her fingertips came back blood stained. “Come. You need to rest now.”

Cross didn’t argue and followed Misa back into the tree. He stumbled over the threshold and dropped the floor, ignoring the fact that he left a trial of blood that was already seeping into the wood. Almost three weeks of training had taught him it mattered very little. The tree would absorb the blood later. For what purpose, Cross didn’t bother asking.

“You are training harder than I expected you would,” Misa said as she deftly pulled the shredded remains of his tunic aside to investigate the wounds she had left on his back. She ran a finger across one of the lacerations, drawing a hiss of pain from Cross. “Why?”

“Not like I have much else to do while I’m stuck here,” Cross gritted out as she repeated the action on the other cut. “Besides, You don’t really hold back much. I don’t think you’d let me slack off.””

“True. It is still a surprise.”

Cross shrugged as best he could given his position and injuries.

“So,” Cross tilted his head to glance at the elf kneeling behind him. “Are you ever gonna tell me why you’re bothering to train me anyways?”

Misa pulled her hand back and stood up. “Your wounds need to be washed.”

This reaction did not surprise Cross. Misa had a very direct and matter of a fact way of speaking. Asking her a question head on was the best way to get information. That only worked, however, if it was a question that Misa felt like answering. If she did not feel like answering then she simply would not and pressing the issue would be quickly shown to be useless.

“Yeah, I know,” Cross pushed himself onto his knees, having already given up on get an answer today. He glanced up at Misa and just as quickly let his gaze drop back down to the floor as she removed her sweat and rain drenched shirt and let it fall to the floor. The skirt soon followed.

This was yet another quirk of Misa that Cross had become to grow accustomed to, though not overly so. Modesty was apparently not a trait that Elves were overly concerned. This, along with a poor understanding of personal space, had led to more than one awkward exchange for Cross.

“You don’t need to avert your eyes any longer,” Misa said, drawing Cross to lift his head back up to look at her. She was draped in a fluffy green towel-like wrap that he knew was more for his benefit than hers. The towel was like all other clothing that Misa created, green and with a pleasant, fresh scent. Her eyes held a glint that Cross was mildly sure was amusement at his discomfort.

He had never seen Misa smile, with her default facial feature appearing to a blank slate, or at most a scowl. At times like this, however, he swore she was smiling at him through her eyes, even if her face stayed passive as ever.

“Come,” Misa ordered as she reached down and pulled up Cross by the arm.

Cross grunted a response and stood as well, tugging his tunic free from his body and letting it fall to the floor just as Misa had done. Like his blood, the tree would absorb it and Misa would later create a replacement. She had been kind enough to replace all his clothes in this manner, though the shoes had been difficult for her, with the first few attempts coming out as amorphous, useless blobs of leaves and vines.

Cross assumed the difficulty came from her lack of experience. Misa did not wear shoes. She had encouraged Cross to do the same, but Cross had politely declined. Slipping from a rain slick tree branch due to lack of traction was not high on his list of things to do.

He followed Misa to a lower level of the tree where a large basin had been formed. Water flowed into the basin from a hollow branch that jutted from the wall. At the bottom of the basin, through the clear water, three glowing stones could been seen. Powered by some form of magic, they kept the water blissfully warm.

The amenities in the tree were surprising, to say the least, but they rivaled, if not surpassed some of the nicest hotels Cross had stayed at, even in size. He had yet to explore it fully, but he knew it connected to at least two other trees, one of which he had seen movement inside of through the large window-like opening. Misa had explained many animals took refuge in the tress when the storms came.

The forest protected its own.

Which still left him wondering, as he dipped into the water, why Misa was so intent on training him. Not that he was complaining by this point. His frequent headaches had reduced dramatically over the last few weeks, and he couldn’t deny a rejuvenated feeling of strength. However, the question lingered.

He was so engrossed with his thoughts that he didn’t notice Misa slip behind him until she pressed a washcloth against the cuts on his back. Whatever she had soaked the cloth in burned. Cross let out a yelp of surprise and spun around to glare at, but only ended up shuffling back with his eyes fixed firmly above her head.

“Your wounds must be cleaned or they will become infected,” Misa put a hand on his shoulder and forcefully spun him around. The washcloth was pressed against his skin again. It hurt less this time, but it still caused enough discomfort to make Cross wince.

“You complained less the first time I did this,” Misa said as she worked.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t like this the other day either.”

“Not then,” Misa dragged the cloth across his skin. Cross couldn’t be sure, but he felt as through she pressed harder than was necessary.

“Hmmm?”

“The first time you entered the forest,” Misa said.

“You mean when you shot me?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you shoot me?” Cross said, before shaking his head. “Actually, better question. Why didn’t you shoot me this time?”

“I did shoot you,” Misa said.

“No, you shot at me,” Cross countered. “And you gave me a warning shot first. You didn’t give me a warning shot the first time, you just shot me. I remember that much.”

Misa’s movements stopped, but only for a moment. “I acted improperly. I apologize.”

“Well… it’s fine, I guess,” Cross said. He hadn’t been expecting an apology. “It just surprised me this time, is all.”

“I strive to protect the forest,” Misa said quietly. “As my mother did.”

The air in the room grew thick as Misa stopped talking, though her hands continued to work.

“I do not enjoy causing pain. Not even to humans,” Misa said after what felt like an eternity. “I now do my best to avoid killing and to preserve life.”

‘Now’

The word hung so heavy in the air. Cross had to ask. “Were you always like that?”

“I was not,” Misa said.

“What changed,” Cross knew it was risky to ask with Misa already voluntarily giving up this much information, but by this point he was all in.

He felt Misa tense up. “Someone… someone very dear was taken from me. They believed that all life was precious. Losing them… it helped me to fully understand just how precious life is. I do not wish that loss on anyone else. ”

“The person,” Cross swallowed hard. “It was your mother?”

Cross was sure she wasn’t going to answer as he felt her shift back and the washcloth slipped away from his skin. Very slowly, he turned around. Misa was staring at him with those vivid green eyes, but they were unseeing, looking through him and into a distant memory.

“Yes,” Misa said. Her voice was quiet and her tone was even as ever, but so much pain emanated from the single utterance that Cross nearly flinched.

“I’m sorry,” Cross said after a long time of silence. He felt like he should say something more, but there was nothing to be said. No words of comfort that he could impart on the girl.

Misa gave him a slow nod before lifting herself from the water and retrieving her wrap. Out of respect, Cross turned away and waited until she had left the room to leave the warmth of the water and slowly dress himself.

Misa was waiting in what constituted as a bedroom. It was located on the lowest level of the tree, somewhere just above ground level. It lacked any openings, but still Cross could hear the storm raging on outside, mingling with the sound of rushing water. Misa was already lying on the floor, her head resting on the side of a great wolf that was already fast asleep. Spread out around her were a smattering of wolf pups. One twitched in its sleep and Misa reached over and soothed it with a gentle brush of her hand.

The room was colder than the rest, but Misa seemed to prefer it that way. She watched Cross out of the corner of her eye as he settled onto the sleeping mat she had grown for him. In the early days she had encouraged him to sleep against one of the many animals that would trot into the tree and lay down to rest. The warmth, she assured him, was extremely comforting.

Cross had dealt with Dante enough times to know that his luck with animals was limited at best, and while he had yet to see one of them so much as glance at Misa, he felt no need to press his luck. Especially with an animal that was bigger than him.

The sleeping mat was comfortable enough for him, even if it was slightly too chilly for his tastes. A point that was made clear as a shiver ran through his body.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Misa called out softly, so as not to disturb the wolves around her.

“I’ll be fine,” Cross said, wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and closing his eyes.

“No, you won’t,” Misa’s voice was suddenly very close. He turned his head and was met with a faceful of choppy, black hair. He almost voiced a concern, but Misa seemed to radiate heat as she pressed her back against his and settled down to sleep. A sudden pitter-pattering of claws against wood informed Cross that a few of the wolf pups had also moved places, wanting to be closer to the displaced Misa.

“Right, then,” Cross sighed as he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep to prepare for another day of training. However, though his bones were weary and his body was sore, sleep still managed to elude him. For a moment, he considered getting, but with Misa pressed firmly against his back, any chance of getting up without waking her were slim to none. That wasn’t even considering the wolf. Cross doubted if he accidentally were to step on one of the pups scattered around the room that even Misa would be able to do anything to stop the mother from ripping him to shreds.

“Would you like to hear a story?” Misa asked suddenly.

“What?” Cross was sure she had been asleep.

“Would you like to hear a story?” Misa repeated. “Since you cannot sleep. A story may help you.”

“Oh… okay, I guess,” Cross said slowly.

“Once, there was a Spirit who lived alone in a forest,” Misa began. “He was a kind, and noble spirit. Under his protection and guidance, the forest grew to be great, and prosperous.

“For ages, it continued like this and all was well in the forest. But, as all storms must pass, so must happiness also come to a similar end. It started out small, as it always does. Things were taken from the forest. First it was only a few trees. Lumber to build. The Spirit understood this need, and he allowed it. Then, it was the animals. Their bodies needed for meat to feed. Again, the Spirit understood this need, and he allowed it, even though it pained him greatly. More and more they took, until the forest had been reduced to nothing more than a shadow of what it once was.”

Misa stopped for a long time and Cross wondered for a moment if she had fallen asleep.

“The Spirit had grown angry. His Kindness had been abused. So he fought back. However, his power had waned with the forest and when he tried to protect that which he loved so dearly… it was too late. They set fire to his beloved forest. They burned it to nothing.

“He began to fade away, and he would have, had it not been for a young maiden who stumbled into the last vestiges of his realm. She marveled in wonder at the beauty of the forest. She ran with the wolves and sang with the birds, and when she came upon the Spirit, who had all but given up on this life, she smiled.

‘Why are you so sad?’ she asked the spirit. ‘Why do you lay here and wait to die when there is so much life around you? So many who need you’

“The Spirit had no answer to give her. He wished to be alone. To hide in shame. But the maiden would not allow it. She drug him from his hiding place and made him walk among the trees. When he was too weak to carry on, she carried him on her back. When he wanted to quit, she would not allow it. She showed him the world he had built and the world that still very much needed him and she said.

‘This forest will always need a guardian. I know it seems scary, to have to begin again after having lost so much. I know it seems impossible that it could ever be as great as it once was. I know that you are weak and that you are tired. So I will stay here and I will protect you, until the day you no longer need me.’

“And as she spoke, the Spirit felt something that he had not felt in many long, long years. He felt hope. With this hope he grew stronger, and the forest flourished and it seemed as though all would be well. But one day, outsiders came to the forest. Unlike the ones from before, they had no interest in the forest or the animals, but rather the maiden. In the dead of night, they stole her away from the forest, tearing her from the place that had been her home for so many years.”

Again Misa stopped. Cross felt her take in a silent breath.

“The Spirit’s pain from losing the maiden was great, and for a time the forest seemed as though it would once again die. But in the wake of the stolen maiden stood another. Though she was small, and she was brash, she also loved the forest greatly, and would gladly give her life to keep it safe. She took the frightened Spirit under her protection and vowed to continue the task that the other had started. She would stay with the Spirit until he was strong enough to stand on his own and to this day she remains.”

“Who took her… your moth… the maiden?” Cross asked softly.

“I do not know who took the maiden, only that they were humans,” Misa said. “It was likely for her blood. Many believe that elf blood holds the key to their magic. Of course, that is foolishness.”

‘She’s dead?’

The words almost slipped free from Cross’s lips, but he managed to catch himself at the last moment. The answer didn’t matter at the moment. Either way, Misa’s mother had been taken from her. Taken by humans.

Her vengeful attitude towards them… Cross could understand it now, but that still left him with a question burning on his tongue.

“Would you like to hear another story?” Misa asked. Her words drifted so lightly through the air that Cross almost missed them.

Cross gave a small nod, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

“Once there was a young girl who lived in a forest with her mother. Her mother was both beautiful and kind and the girl adored her for it. She strived to be strong, just like her mother. Strong enough to protect the forest and everything in it. And perhaps, it was because of this, that the girl made a horrible mistake.

“The girl knew the hunters that stalked the forest well. They came like clockwork, though to what end, she did not know. Her mother had warned her to never go near them, to run if they got too close. The girl didn’t fully understand, but she knew her mother was serious. In all the years they had been in the forest, the girl had only see her mother kill a handful of people and often had it been theses hunters. So time after time, she listened to her mother and ran, until one day.

“It was a cold day, even though winter was still far off. The rains had only recently faded away and with them gone came the hunters. As she had done so many times, the girl’s mother drove them out. It filled the girl with pride to see how strong her mother was. Perhaps it was for this reason, that when alerted to the presence of another entering the forest, the girl struck off on her own, confident in the abilities her mother had passed down to her.

“A single figure walked slowly through the forest, a cloak drawn around his frame. The girl watched him from above, an arrow, dipped in poison, at the ready, just as she had seen her mother do. The first arrow she fired was true and struck him in the wrist. The second as well, driving him to the ground.

“For a moment, a sense of pride flooded through her veins. She had done it. She had protected the forest, just as her mother had done. The scream that echoed through the forest and with it came burning shame. The girl dropped from the tree and rushed to the intruder’s side. No, not an intruder. A child. A child who stared up unseeing, through tear-filled eyes as the poison did its work.”

Cross’s wrists itched and he fought the urge to rub them.

“The girl was sure he would die,” Misa said softly. “All of her training, her confidence, it rushed from her as she stared down at him. She called out for her mother, but no one came. In her panic, she had grasped the boy’s hand, though it was slick with blood.

‘I’m sorry,” she told the boy, though he could not hear her. ‘I’m sorry.’

“The boys hand grew limp in hers and the girl knew he was not long for this world. Fear gripped her. A fear stronger than any she had ever felt before. A shameful fear. One that she could not accept.

‘I will save you,’ she told the boy as she gripped his limp fingers so tight she feared she might break him. ‘I swear it.’

“How?” Cross blurted out, unable to contain himself. With every word Misa spoke, he felt the memory, locked away so long ago, begin to chip free. Flashes of the past, no longer than the blink of an eye, played across his mind. He felt the pain of the arrows and the rush of the poison. His fingers, slick with warm blood, held tightly in Misa’s small hand.

“The girl took him,” Misa continued as though Cross has never interrupted. “She took him and gave him the mark of the forest. The mark that would flush the poison from his veins. A mark that would claim him as a friend to the forest until the end of his days.

“The girls mother came as soon as it was done. From afar she had watched, refusing to intervene. She looked down at her daughter, though not with anger, only with a grim understanding.

‘He is your responsibility now,” the girls mother said. “His life is a burden that you must carry for it is one that you once took.”

“The girl accepted that fate. She accepted responsibility for what she had done in her arrogance and haste. For a week she stayed by the boy as he recovered, though it was a slow, and painful process. She shared in his suffering, shared in his pain, but through it all, she never regretted her choice.

“When the boy grew strong enough, she allowed her mother to take the boy from her care and return him to the edge of the forest. She watched from the trees as he was carried away. She had not wanted to let him leave, not in such a state, but he was with those he belonged. Yet even as he faded from view, he did not fade from her memory, as the mark she had given him was one that would forever bind them.”

Misa grew silent and Cross let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in.

“I remember now,” Cross said as the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. The reason he was still alive. Why the poison had failed to kill him a second time. Her relentless instance on training him. “Not all of it, but enough. I remember you, Misa.”

“I am glad,” Misa said quietly.

“I should have known. The bear… I ran into a bear when I first entered the forest. It didn’t attack me, it barely showed me any interest. It was because of you.”

“It did not attack because it saw the mark.” Misa confirmed. “So long as you carry that mark, nothing in this forest will seek to harm you.”

“Well, you did,” Cross couldn’t help but point out.

“There was a reason.”

“Which was?”

“I was not looking for it.” Misa said.

The answer was so blunt and simple that Cross couldn't even muster up a sense of annoyance. Instead, he let out a soft laugh and felt the last bit of the days tension slip from his body. Misa seemed to feel it as well.

“Good night, Cross.” Misa said quietly.

“Good night, Misa. Thank you, for the story.” Cross said, just as quietly. He was just about drift to sleep when a thought occurred to him. “Misa?”

“Yes?”

“How did you mark me?” Cross asked.

He felt Misa tense up.

“That is… unimportant,” said, before shifting and falling silent.

“Right, then,” Cross said with a bemused sigh before he settled in for the night.

He supposed it wasn’t particularly important. At least, not for the time being.

#Bleeeeech #This chapter is long #edit it later #make it make sense sometime eventually