A barrier of rain engulfs the little village atop the mountains. All its’ inhibitors have found stability within their residences. There is only one creature outside during the downpour: a sobbing child. Or at least this is what the reflection in the puddle is telling me. My reflection is crying, yet I don’t feel the supposedly warm tears damping my skin. I guess the rainwater refuses to let my trembling body get any heat.

I look down at my hands, their dark hue matches the rain cloud that hovers over me. My fawn-colored palms sit shakingly on my bruised knees. I can see my veins, they’re quivering too. Restless drops turmoil the puddles adjacent to me, yet I can still catch a relatively clear image of myself: my coily hair, once in neat puffs decorated with variegated clips proudly sitting atop my head, now disheveled, being stirred by the cruel wind who purples my skin. My nose is heavy with snot, and tears feel weighty in my eyes; they redden my sclera. My vision blurs more and more with each passing second. My lips are barely holding my clacking teeth. My brightly-colored dress, filled with fervent patterns, fails to keep me warm, the storm has already claimed it. Mud covers the lower part of my garb, as well as my sandals.

I am overcome with hopelessness. I can’t enter my home; dad is the only one who has the keys and he hasn’t returned from the bar. It’s been almost two days. Hunger is tugging at my stomach, a piercing pain that I can ignore no longer. The eaves are the only thing protecting me from nature’s anger, and they’re not doing a good job.

When I first realized I was locked out of it, my first instinct was asking a neighbor for help, but the rain, that had just started then, seemed to repel them. They refused to answer the door and instead just ignored me, so my shame carried me away from there. My senses told me to wait, that dad always returns eventually, so it’ll be fine, but by the time night arrived, he was still missing from my sight. Desperate, I turned to my neighbors again, with the same outcome. It’s like they all vanished, but that’s impossible, I saw them head into their homes. How selfish can people be to just leave a child outside while heavy rain rages on?

That night, I slept on the porch, only shielded by the eaves of my inaccessible house. As I awoke, I surely thought he’d be home by now, but my senses betrayed me once again. Alone and gungy, I resorted to trying to enter by force. I wanted home. I picked up the heaviest rock my frail arms could handle and I swung it at a window, yet it failed to break. Again, and again, the glass stood strong against my attacks. The door is even stronger. The rain seemed to get more aggressive each time the two materials collided. Drenched and discouraged, I sat crying on the porch, and I’ve been here since. I don’t remember falling asleep last night, so I must’ve stayed awake the entire night without realizing it.

My desperate cries fill the village, yet no one has come to help me, or even tell me to shut up. They’re all hiding from this prolonged rainfall. It doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, but I’ve never witnessed or even heard of a deluge that lasted this long. I can’t tell the time; the sky is stunned with dark clouds and I don’t have a clock with me. I can only wonder if two days have truly passed or if that mark is long away.

At this rate, I’ll starve. I thought about stealing some fruit from the neighboring yard since they refused to even acknowledge my existence, yet, upon closer inspection, they didn’t seem to bear any consumables. Their stable seems to be empty as well. The panic that initially set in clears to make place for a more urgent terror. I’m alone, hungry, locked out of my home, and quite literally everyone seems to be ignoring me, not to mention the heartless rain that has been pouring for over 24 hours. I don’t think something like that is normal. Is this an omen? Is this the end? Maybe I should go search for dad at the bar, but it takes about 2 hours to get there by foot, and I don’t exactly know how to reach it. The last thing I want is to get lost in the woods, but I guess it’s better than to starve here.

As I prepare to head into the woods, a voice calls out:

“Is anyone there?” a male voice rings out from outside the village, from the young forest that surrounds it. The voice sounds like it belongs to a man well in his twenties, maybe even thirties. It doesn’t seem exactly welcoming, but not quite aggressive either. I think that the yell is filled with pity, maybe he recognized that the cries are coming from a child.

“Hello?” I yell back, wiping my snot. My tone is tense and sorrowful; it’s easy to tell I’ve been crying. “I’m here.” I have no intention of hiding my location. Dad told me not to talk to strangers, but it’s either that or starving in the middle of a torrent.

I hear footsteps now. They’re quite loud if they can drown the sound of rain aggressively dropping in masses. The steps are hurried, I can somewhat feel that they’re worried. An unclear figure approaches me; I don’t know if he’s so blurry because of the distance or the tears that have taken over my eyes refuse to let me see, but what’s certain is that he’s approaching. As he gets closer, I can see him better: he’s a tall, well-built man with seemingly light brown hair with a reddish hue, his skin is pale and furrowed, although he looks like he’s in his early thirties. His clothing, a simple dark-hued buttoned-up shirt, and a raggedy jacket. His pants and shoes are as dirty as mine, if not more. He has a big bag, full of pockets, hanging over his shoulder and across his chest. Despite his worn-out look, his beard is perfectly groomed.

He reaches me, a soft look in his eyes, that I can now see clearly as green:

“Are…Are you lost, little girl?” his voice softens considerably. He’s unsure how to gesticulate, probably because he doesn’t want to scare me.

“My dad hasn’t come home. It’s been 2 days and I can’t enter my house.” I explain to the man through my sobs. He maintains the soft look. He doesn’t seem horrified by the fact I’ve been alone for so long.

“2 days? Aren’t you hungry? Or thirsty? Did the other villagers feed you?”

“They won’t answer the door… It’s like they vanished.” I let out a sob. My stomach rumbles loudly as if it’s yelling out for me to feed it. The man’s face warps into a more urgent expression as if alarmed.

“Here.” He hands me a triangle-shaped lunch box. Inside it lays a sandwich. Its’ smell makes me assume there’s ham in it. I immediately devour it, probably in less than 5 bites. I look up at the man, I’m filled with gratitude, this kind stranger has offered me more sympathy in one minute than the villagers have in my entire life.

“Thank you, mister!” I say to the mysterious man. His expression shifts from a pitiful smile to one full of concern.

“You say your father hasn’t returned for so long… I’m sure that constitutes neglect…” He starts out his line as if he’s talking to me, yet he seems to be whispering to himself. His shoulders drop, probably unsure what to do. “Do you have any relatives that you could stay with, little girl?”

“My name is Mansurah.”

“Oh, right. Do you have any relatives you could stay with?” he repeats his question.

“No.”

“No?”

“They’re either dead or lost.”

“Lost?” The man’s expression changes again, this time into one of shock, although I would say he overexaggerates it.

“They’re lost in these forests that surround us,” I speak. I feel a ripple forming in my mind when I think about the woodland.

“Well, I can’t just leave you here, in the torrential rain.” The fellow, clearly uncomfortable, changes the subject. “What could I do, even? Take you with me? It’s too dangerous… Are there any other living people in this village?”

“I guess, but they’re all ignoring me.”

“They’re… ignoring you?” He pauses. “I can’t really question this since they seem to be ignoring me as well. I’ve seen a few people lingering around their windows, but they appeared to not be very welcoming, but I just assumed it was the foreigner’s curse. Now that I know you’re in the same boat, I don’t know what to think.” The man looks at me, his short hair and clothes completely soaked, the water is still dripping off his face. “Have they always been like this?”

To me, this is kind of a dumb question, but I answer regardless:

“No, I remember days when I would play around with the other kids, but now they’re ignoring me, their parents too! Ever since it started raining, they’ve locked themselves inside and refuse to talk to anyone!”

The stranger’s puzzled look lands heavily on his light features. He pats my shoulder. I could only assume he’s more confused than me. He’s a stranger to this place, after all. I hope he offers to take me with him; I’m so sick of this place. My father warned me to never go with strangers, yet he is the one who has forsaken me. I don’t even know the kind stranger’s name, nor am I aware of his true nature, but the atmosphere he has created calms me. I don’t care that I’m alone, or that my dad’s image seems to be fading from my mind, I want to leave this house, it only represents the pain and contempt I used to have for ‘dad’. Though he isn’t really my dad, so I shouldn’t call him that, if he abandoned me, but I don’t remember his given name.

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet, mister.”

“Oh, my apologies. I’m Lucas Wood.” He hands out his hand, and I shake it, though he must look silly, shaking hands with a 12-year-old. “I wandered around these parts on accident.”

“Are you headed somewhere?”

The man takes a deep breath. A heavy silence sets among us, only disturbed by the loud drops of rain.

“I’m… looking for a special remedy…” Lucas states uneasily. Silence slices through our conversation again.

“Oh… I’m sorry. Are you ill?”

“No, not me.” He forces a laugh; it almost seems like he’s trying to hide his embarrassment. “It’s not for me, it’s for Mary…My wife.”

“Oh.” I let out a sigh, unsure of what to say next. This sorry sight of two strangers oversharing their pain has left me something other than speechless, I think I feel a part of my brain melting away. The only thing more unbearable than the quiet transaction of shame between us is the physical condition I’m in: wet from head to toe, sore eyes that are red from crying, dirty and miserable.

As if he can read my mind, the man offers me a hand.

“Please, don’t remain here. You’ll starve, or freeze to death. Who knows what happens to the villagers? Maybe a curse? Do you really want to find out?”

He’s offering to take me away. Didn’t I want that? But he’s a stranger, an unknown man who still wears a mask of unknowledge. I know I wished for this, yet I am uneasy, unsatisfied. Hostile even. Yet again, who is to tell what is hidden behind that mask of kindness? Maybe he’s not evil, but maybe he is, but… Do I have a choice? Desperately lost in my own mental debate, I unknowingly grab Lucas’ hand. I think my subconscious wants to leave.

“Where are we going?” I leave all my inhibitions behind. My subconscious is right, I don’t want to stay here, I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want to feel this tired ever again, I don’t need this town nor its’ people. This man has nothing but kindness in his eyes, I want to trust him. I will trust him.

“I’ve camped nearby. About 20 minutes away from here.”

He takes my hand and we begin taking steps in the deep woods, all decorated by cheerful green leaves, full of life. The yellow sphere high above shines brighter now. The rain is all the way back, we left it all in the village. There’re no more low-saturated colors, everything is happy now.

As we pass through the young forest, I can’t help but notice the fauna has returned. I missed the chirping, the visuals, everything. Everything felt dead back in the village, maybe Lucas was right, maybe it’s a curse. Regardless, I see this change of scenery as a sign to things to come. No more sadness is placed on my life’s path. I’m happy.

Our journey is quiet. Neither he nor I stir up a conversation. Perhaps we don’t know what to say, or maybe we’re just tired.

We arrive at Lucas’ temporary settlement. It’s seated right outside of the forest, where the woods thicken. The tent he set up is huge, probably bigger than that old, rusty cabin back in the village. I’d be happy just living here, but Lucas told me he has a house too, much bigger than this. Little half-burnt sticks are huddled together near the shelter for the purpose of making a fire. Cushions are scattered at the tent’s entrance, all dimly colored.

Lucas sits in one of them, he shifts until he’s comfortable and suggests I sit down as well.

“You must be tired. Make yourself at home.”

I thank him, taking the opportunity. I choose the cutest color I can find in a sea of greyish pillows. Compared to the rough wood belonging to the porch, it’s soft and comforting, like a hug. As my back sinks into the fabric, my eyes take their gaze from the beautiful landscape and focus on Lucas, who appears to be brooding.

“I’m sorry I’m so lost in thought.” He apologizes awkwardly.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry I asked you about the reason you’re traveling, I didn’t know-“

“Don’t worry about that! It’ll get better soon anyway. After I defeat that wretched thing and give Mary its’ lifeblood, my skies will clear.”

“Wretched thing?” those words rise a wave of curiosity in me.

“Does Midnight Dweller ring a bell?”

“No.” My confusion only grows as he acts bewildered at my unfamiliarity with that name, or maybe it’s a title.

“What about The Cave Queen? Does that sound familiar?”

“Not at all.”

“The Beastly Mother of Dawn?” Lucas raises his eyebrows.

“Nope, never heard of it. Are these monsters?”

“Well, it’s ONE monster that’s just so feared throughout these lands, it gathered tens, if not hundreds of nicknames. Personally, I call it The Unholy Maid of The Midst, but I hear most people call it The Twelvemonth Blossom.”

“Uh…” The numerous new words thrown at me make my head fog.

“Don’t worry, Macie. You don’t need to remember these fancy names, the mother flower is a simple creature, it doesn’t deserve all this fearful praise.” Lucas states. I note his new nickname for me; I think it’s cute, although it sounds foreign, not something the villagers would have called their children, but I shouldn’t even consider myself a village child anymore, I left that place for good.

“If it’s simple, then why are people so scared of her?”

“People fear it because of its’ pure, brute force. A force that can rattle men with a single breath, a force that can decompose the fiercest musclemen, a force that has taken the lives of God-gifted heroes. Its’ very existence must upset the divine. But it’s simple.”

He says all that in a grave, thunderous voice only to end it with a mocking snort “It’s simple.”, his tone taking a casual turn.

“Simple to fight?” I say, trying to appease my inquisitiveness.

“Oh, no, no, no. That beast is not easy to fight, I can tell you that. It gave me so many scars, I’m surprised I’m still in one piece. What I meant to say is that the mother flower’s head is simple, like a bee, or an ant. It might be the matriarch, but at the end of the day, it can’t think, just like its’ creations. It only lives to breed and consume the resources it needs to breed.”

“Just how big is that thing?” Mother-flower’s description sends chills down my spine.

“Bigger than this tree.” He articulates, pointing his finger at the nearest tree, whose top is lost between the dense crowns of leaves, hidden away from my eyes. “The Twelvemonth Blossom is probably not what you’d consider a flower to be. Its’ appearance is rough and monster-like, if its’ size isn’t a dead giveaway, then the petals it bears might be. The pistil is surrounded by literal blades that can slice through humans with ease. I’ve seen it with my own eyes…”

“You have?”

“When- No. I shouldn’t be telling this to a child.”

“I’m not scared easily! I promise I can take it.”

Lucas looks at me tenderly then gets up. I do the same. He pats my head; his hand is almost bigger than my entire cranium. His mouth forms a smile that reminds me of my dolls.

“I wish I remembered how I was when I was a kid!” He exclaims. “I can only imagine I was such a pain.” His laugh is resounding. I can sense a tint of nostalgia lost in it. “I think… Mary might remember, I’ll ask her when she wakes up.”

“Ah, she’s still sleeping at this hour?” Dawn is long gone. The sun has settled atop the sky. It must be noon.

“She’s been sleeping for a long time. 3 years actually.” His eyes begin dripping with salted sadness.

“Oh… I’m very sorry. What happened?”

“A terrible curse has befallen her. She’s been trapped in a comatose state, not quite dead but not alive either. This is why I must obtain the life-water of the Cave Queen. I couldn’t live in a world where Mary is not with me.”

“You must love your wife very much.” My words seem to soothe Lucas, for his tears begin lessening.

“I do. She is my heart, my brain, and my soul. I’m glad I lived most of my life with her at my side. She’s a beautiful and kind woman, I’m sure you’d love her. Everyone does.” His grimace is replaced by a sour smile. He really seems to miss her.

“She seems like an amazing person! I would love to meet her one day!”

“And you will. I swear to defeat the Cave Queen and to revive my beloved Mary!”

“How can I help? You already helped me so much, the least I can do is return the favor somehow.” I am aware of my pitiful stature and my lack of strength, but that doesn’t stop me from offering help. “I could cook, or clean, or aid your wounds! I am quite skilled in these acts! I’ve been practicing them since I was in diapers!”

“I could use a traveling companion. I can’t remember the last time I’ve spoken to another human being. Out here, it gets lonely, and the forest knows how to mess with your sanity. I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep me company. You know, you’re quite the smart cookie!”

“I would love that!”

 The rest of the day passively marches away. Both of our batteries seem to have run out. We don’t communicate anything to each other, even if we have so much to say. Instead, my focus turns to the beauty of the forest. From the village, the forest seems distant and dull, washed out from the heavenly rain, but from here, it’s full of life, proud and welcoming. The only thing among us is stillness as the sun dances across the bolt of blue above us. Without a warning, the sky turns pink. The day is almost over. I’ve spent this day reflecting on my short life.

My father’s face is erasing itself from my memory, and all I’m left with from living in the village is my dirty dress, the one that was sewn by…someone. I don’t remember who.

I turn to Lucas, only now realizing he’s been asleep the whole time. Our journey must have exhausted him. He looks at peace.