Chapter 9
10 0 2
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Annie stared the villagers down. Some of them trembled, others went to hold their four-leafed clover shaped pendants. Annie furrowed her eyebrows and raised a finger.

“You should all be ashamed of yourself! Think about all the animals that help feed you and called the forest home. Where are they now?” People began to shift uncomfortable and Annie knew that she had these people.

“Think of the nymph that made sure there were herbs and mushrooms for your tables. She lays half-dead in Alklair’s house. Not even conscious enough to answer when she is spoken to! Her name is Holly, and you all nearly killed her,” the heads of the people collectively pointed down. Annie was reading for the final punch.

“I don’t want your bowed heads! Your shame is useless,” Annie yelled, and that startled the people into looking up. “What I want is for all of you to right your wrongs. Help spread moss in the forest so Holly can go back on her feet. Do a good dead and the bad one will be washed away.”

Annie’s voice became gentler by the end, and she saw how people became determined.

“How do we spread the moss?” Asked a woman who looked to be about Annie’s age.

“It is easy. You just cut off a chunk and place it on wet land. Then, you place some rocks over it and wet it again. All the moss would need some watering from time to time, but think of your children. You all grew up in the shadow of Holly’s Forest. Don’t you want for your children to be able to experience the same?”

People, as one, began heading to the forest then. Annie moved to follow the crowd. When they reached Alklair’s house, he was already taking out the moss from his basement.

“Granny, you made them all come,” Alklair looked at the villagers with teary eyes. He had been prepared to plant the moss all day long, by himself, but Annie had delivered what she had promised.

“And I didn’t even have to tell them about the rice paddies,” said Annie proudly.

“What rice paddies?” Asked a woman from the crowd.

“I will be making rice paddies along the river,” answered Alklair. “So you will all have enough food and that Holly could get better faster.”

A chorus of excitement carried around the villagers. A rice paddy could feed a family for a year. Those were welcomed news, indeed.

“But first, the moss,” urged Alklair and the people began taking moss cuttings and water bottles, and they headed in the forest. The forest was small, it had just one nymph, after all, so there was plenty of moss for it.

The villagers planted the moss at the base of each tree, making sure to place the rocks over it. There was also this myth that the most only grew on the north side of trees, but the villagers didn’t put much stock on it.

When the sun set, the villagers came back to Alklair’s house, only to see a picnic area with plates filled with rice with mushrooms.

“Everyone, you did well. I would like you to meet someone,” Alklair moved to the side and a woman stepped forward. She had short red hair and looked skinny, too much for it to be healthy, but she was beautiful, nevertheless.

With heart shaped lips, small, bottom nose, and tanned, almost golden, skin. The villagers gasped. This could only be the nymph, Holly.

“Hello,” she waved and picked up a plate. With small, dancer like steps, she carried the plate to an old man who was at the front of the crowd. “Have a pleasant meal, and thank you for spreading the moss.”

“I don’t deserve this,” said the man, hands shaking. “I came in here and chopped trees with the rest of them. And, when little Alklair begged for us to help him plant new trees, I brushed him off.”

“Good deeds wash away the bad,” said Holly, her voice soft. “I don’t blame you. You must have needed the money. Just don’t chop any more trees, and know that I forgive you.”

The old man bowed and accepted the plate. Holly returned to the picnic area and picked up another plate.

“Right, here you go, enjoy your meal,” she said, handing the plate to a child who reached her hip.

“Can I come play in here? I can bring worms and place them near the trees,” Holly smiled at the child. Yes, worms would make new air pathways in her soil.

“Only if you promise to bring a flower for me to plant,” all of Holly’s flowers had wilted when the forest had been chopped down and Holly had become too weak to sustain the soil with magic. That still pained her.

“I’ll bring you marigolds,” promised the child, and Holly smiled down at him.

Holly gave each of the villagers their meals and extracted a promise from each one that they won’t harm the trees once they grew and that they will bring flowers to plant. Annie watched on as the nymph charmed everyone around her. She looked at Alklair, who was smiling, but had teary eyes.

“She wouldn’t want to see you cry,” said Annie, nudging the mage. “Control yourself. Nymphs don’t go out in the open usually. For her to do so, she must really believe in the goodwill of the villagers.”

“Holly always believes in the goodness of people,” agreed Alklair, and he blinked until his tears faded. “I am so happy to see her coming out in the open like that. She is the best mother ever. And I thought I would lose her.”

Annie looked at Alklair more closely. He was the child of a nymph? But, he looked human. Annie shook her head. Whose children people were didn’t matter. It mattered what their character was.

And Alklair was a good man. One of her granddaughters would have made him happy. If the stubborn mules would only agree to settle down instead of adventuring.  

2