Something Grows Amongst the Trees (Closed for Mr_Positive)

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan listened, frozen in place, as her words sank in. His gaze dropped to the table, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his coffee mug as he processed what she was telling him. A summons. Just by saying her name, he had pulled her away from whatever she’d been doing—important things, apparently—and dragged her here. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but that didn’t make the reality of it any less jarring.

“I... didn’t know,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to take you away from anything. I didn’t even think it was possible to... summon someone like that.” He looked back up at her, his expression earnest and open, though tinged with a nervous energy.

“You’re right, though. I don’t know your ways. I don’t know the rules or... or what’s respectful and what’s not in your world. But I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I just—” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “I just liked the way your name sounded. It stuck with me, I guess. I didn’t realize saying it out loud would do... this.”

He gestured vaguely between them, indicating her sudden appearance at his table. For a moment, he just sat there, awkward and uncertain, until the silence grew unbearable.

“I’ll try not to do it again,” he promised, leaning forward slightly. “I mean it. You said names carry weight. I get that now... at least, I think I do. I’ll be more careful.” His brow furrowed as a thought struck him. “But, uh... what do I do if I have to talk about you? I mean, what if I’m telling someone about what happened here? Or... or asking someone if they’ve heard of you?”

His words came in a rush, as though he were trying to make up for his earlier mistake by asking all the right questions now. “Is there some kind of... I don’t know, nickname I can use? Or something else I can call you that won’t... you know... bring you here?”

He fell silent again, realizing how ridiculous he probably sounded. Here he was, sitting in a cabin in the middle of the forest, asking a mythical being for permission to use a nickname like she was some kind of coworker. But even through his embarrassment, his curiosity lingered. There was so much he didn’t know about her, about the forest, about this whole strange world he’d stumbled into.

“Look,” he said after a pause, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to bother you, and I don’t want to... make your life harder or whatever. But if I’m gonna keep living here, I guess I’d better figure out how to not screw things up any worse.”

He hesitated, his hands folding together on the table. “So... yeah. If there’s anything else I need to know—rules, boundaries, anything—I’m all ears.”​

 

[Poprockz]

He liked her name? She supposed it was indeed a good name, but she wasn't sure why his statement made her feel a small flush of pride over it.

Her eyes drifted to his coffee mug as he spoke, drawn to the movements of his fingers. She had never gotten the chance to try the liquid, but often the stuff that was brewed over a campfire smelled rather bitter and burnt. It wasn't as though she was averse to bitterness if something had an enjoyable, complex flavor, but she definitely gravitated towards things that were sweet like berries and honey. The fae came together every solstice to dance and make merry, including eating delicious foods like grapes and sweet wine, but she had always been curious about the sweet things that the humans created. She had witnessed them roasting soft little white confections and eating them with bricks of dark brown and crunchy biscuits, but that was about the extent of her human dessert knowledge.

That reminded her- she shouldn't forget to stop by the beehive today, as bees had notoriously short memories and might not let her have any honey tomorrow.

"Illy." The woman spoke as she looked up from his coffee mug, "you may call me Illy. You are welcome to research me, but I doubt you will find many written records of me, if any. That being said, I would appreciate if you did not speak of me to others- I am already uncomfortable with how much you and I have already interacted."

She scratched her arm, a cascade of now almost-dry mud schluffing off of her skin. While she wasn't being hostile, she was obviously still very wary of him. One might say that she was like a bird ready to flutter away with a flap over wings at the first movement it saw nearby.

When he had been unconscious, the nymph had gotten a good look at his face but his eyes had been closed at the time. Now that they were open, she found that his face (already very handsome) was much better with them on display. They shined with an earnestness she rarely saw and she couldn't help but want to continue to study his features.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan sat in silence for a moment, turning her words over in his mind. "Illy," he said softly, testing it out. The nickname felt strange and intimate on his tongue, but it carried a kind of warmth too, like it belonged in the quiet of this cabin. He nodded almost to himself. "Alright. Illy, it is."

He glanced down at his coffee mug, his fingers now still against its ceramic surface. Her gaze had been drawn to it earlier, and he found himself wondering what she thought about such a mundane thing. Did she drink coffee? Did she even know what it was? For someone so tied to the forest, it probably seemed like an odd, human indulgence. He caught himself before asking her about it; he wasn’t sure if she’d take kindly to more questions right now.

"I won’t tell anyone," he said finally, lifting his eyes back to hers. They were sharp and guarded, but there was something else there too, something softer that made him tread carefully. "I mean, who would I even tell? People don’t exactly believe in things like... well, you. Fae. Nymphs. Whatever name you’d prefer."

He leaned back slightly in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "And even if I did say something, I’m not sure I’d want to. This place... this whole thing... it feels personal, you know? Like it’s mine to figure out—or ours, I guess, since you’re... the forest." He gave a small, self-conscious laugh, realizing how ridiculous he must sound. "Anyway, yeah. Your secret’s safe with me."

His gaze drifted back to the table as he considered her last comment. Uncomfortable with how much you and I have already interacted. He frowned, chewing on the edge of his lip. "Look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’m not here to mess with your life or... whatever you’ve got going on. I’m just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"I’m just trying to figure out where I fit," he admitted, almost more to himself than to her. "Out here, away from everything... I thought it’d be simpler, you know? But then you showed up, and now it’s like..." He shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "I don’t know. It’s not simpler, that’s for sure."

He looked up at her again, his expression softer, almost curious. "Why does it matter so much if we interact? I mean, I get that you’re not used to humans, but... you don’t seem like you hate us. You haven’t drowned me or cursed me or anything, so..." He shrugged. "I guess I just don’t see the harm in a conversation."​

 

[Poprockz]

She had nodded in satisfaction when he agreed not to speak of her to others. Though she could never be sure that his words were true, something about the way he said it made her believe him. The whole thing about something to figure out made her a bit confused though. There was nothing to "figure out" between the two of them, as she assumed they would coexist without crossing paths too much in the future.

The nymph looked to the trees for a moment, her pointed ears twitching briefly. It seemed as though the forest was quite curious why she was lingering here rather than coming back to its embrace. It could wait for her to finish, the impatient thing. Her eyes turned back to him and she spoke deliberately, not wanting to offend him nor encourage him. "I do not find you... unpleasant. However, I do not trust your kind. Something that significantly distinguishes humans from... beings like myself is that while I am unfailingly compelled to always speak true, your kind can lie. "

"One day we might have a pleasant conversation, and the next I could be in a cage, unable to tend to the forest. Without me, the forest will become diseased and corruptible." While she didn't elaborate further on this point, it was obvious from her steady, serious gaze that there were far greater implications of this. In truth, nymphs did many things in the forest to keep it healthy and happy, including keeping away malevolent forces that sought to find some sort of anchor into this plane. Without a forest's keeper, the forest would become home to things of a frightful and opportunistic nature. Shadows in the trees that watched with hungry, hateful eyes.

The nymph stood from the table, though she didn't leave just yet, waiting for his response.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan watched her rise, her deliberate movements holding a grace that contrasted sharply with the unease her words stirred within him. He felt the weight of what she had said pressing against his chest, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The idea of her trapped, the forest dying in her absence, filled him with an unexpected sense of dread.

"I wouldn’t do that," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with something close to hurt. His gaze followed hers briefly toward the trees, then back to her. "I mean, I get it. I know my kind doesn’t exactly have the best track record with... well, anything we can get our hands on. But that’s not who I am."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, his coffee forgotten. "I came out here to get away from that. From people who’d put something beautiful in a cage just because they could. I’m not..." He shook his head, his voice growing firmer. "I’m not that guy. I don’t want to hurt you, or the forest, or whatever it is that makes this place work."

For a moment, he looked down at the table, tracing a grain in the wood with his finger. "You’re right, though," he admitted. "Humans lie. We can be cruel, greedy, selfish. I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve probably done it." He looked back up at her, his jaw tightening. "But I also know we’re not all like that. And I swear to you, Illy, I’m not like that. Whatever trust you’re giving me by talking to me now... I won’t betray it."

He straightened in his chair, his expression softening as he studied her. He found himself wanting to reassure her, to prove to her that not every human deserved the distrust she carried. But he knew words alone wouldn’t be enough.

"I know it’s going to take more than me saying it," he added after a moment, his tone gentler now. "But if there’s anything I can do to prove to you that you don’t need to worry about me, just say the word. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But... I’d rather figure out how we can coexist, like you said. Maybe even get to the point where you don’t have to watch me so closely every time I open my mouth."

He gave her a small, almost tentative smile, leaning back in his chair as if to show he wasn’t a threat. "I get it, though. You’ve got a forest to protect, and I’m just some guy living on the edge of it. You don’t owe me anything. But for what it’s worth... I think this place is better with you in it. Safer. Stronger."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his smile turning wry. "I mean, the fact that I’m still standing after everything says a lot. You could’ve turned me into a toad or something by now, but you didn’t. So... thanks for that."

He wasn’t sure if she’d respond, but he felt compelled to add, "And for what it’s worth, I hope one day you’ll see I’m not all bad. Or at least not bad enough to stick me in the 'distrust on sight' category." He gestured faintly toward her. "Even if you’re still deciding what you think about me, I think you’re..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I think you’re doing a hell of a job looking out for the forest. And I respect that."

He let his words hang there, unsure if she’d find them sincere or dismiss them entirely. But if there was one thing Ethan had learned out here, it was that sometimes you just had to speak the truth and hope it found its way.​

 

[Poprockz]

He seemed genuine, but if lies always rang false then no one would be fooled by them. She wanted to believe him, though. His voice and words had softened her guarded heart somewhat, and she thought to herself that perhaps he simply was just a man in the woods spending his time drawing and mumbling.

Her eyes drifted to a berry on the table, left over from when she had given him the note. It still looked to be fresh, so she reached over, grabbed it, and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet, and she let the taste linger on her tongue as he finished up what he was saying.

The man seemed to have a penchant for rambling, though she found it rather... cute, perhaps? Once he got started, it was as though all his thoughts came one after another without too much of a filter, like a stream without a dam. Another fae might have been offended at his compliments regarding her tending to the forest, seeing as he knew next to nothing about what she did or didn't do, but she saw it more as an effort on his part to foster good-will.

"If your actions match your words, I think you'll find the forest to be a very hospitable place for you, traveler" she mused, turning to leave. The nymph said no more, simply leaving things with that simple response. While Illuvian didn't know his name, it was of little importance at this point. They had made peace, and so things would now go back to the way they were before- the way they had always been. She intended to visit him from time to time, but merely as a shifting of grass in the breeze or the shimmer of dew on the flowers. A pair of curious eyes to observe him and hopefully one day see the drawings in his notebook.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan watched her as she turned, her simple parting words lingering in the air between them. If your actions match your words... That sentence settled deep within him, like an unspoken challenge—a promise he didn’t yet fully know how to keep but was determined to try. The nymph, or Illy as she’d allowed him to call her, seemed to exist as a tether between the unknowable and the tangible, and the thought of her fading back into the forest without knowing who he was didn’t sit right with him.

“Wait,” he said, the word spilling out before he could stop himself. He didn’t move, didn’t rise or lean forward, but the steady sincerity in his voice filled the space she occupied. “My name’s Ethan. Ethan Mercer.”

He paused, letting it linger in case she cared to hear it—an offering, like a bridge he was trying to build between them. “You didn’t ask for it, and I get that it probably doesn’t mean much to you... but I wanted you to have it anyway. You gave me your name, and that seems like a bigger deal than I realized at the time. I guess it’s only fair.”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture of nervousness, though his voice stayed even. “Look, I know you’ve probably got better things to do than listen to me talk—I’m really good at rambling, if you hadn’t noticed—but... I meant what I said. I don’t want to be some shadow at the edge of your forest. I’d rather... I don’t know, coexist, like you said. So if you’ve got any questions—about me, about why I’m here, or just humans in general—ask me. I’ll answer. I want to answer.”

He gave a small, lopsided smile, trying not to let the quiet feel too heavy. “Call it me trying to earn a little trust. You probably know everything there is to know about this place, but I figure there’s not much you can learn about me unless I tell you. And, well, I don’t mind sharing.”

Ethan settled back into his chair, picking up his now-lukewarm coffee mug but making no move to drink from it. He didn’t expect her to turn back around or even to respond; she seemed too... ephemeral for that, like she could vanish at any second into the mist and moss. But he wanted her to know he’d spoken his name freely—not as a summons, but as a gesture. A choice.

“I’ll be here if you ever feel like taking me up on it,” he added softly, almost to himself.​

 

[Poprockz]

The woman paused when he called after her, listening to what he had to say.

Were she a more malevolent being, the words '..Ethan Mercer. You didn’t ask for it, and I get that it probably doesn’t mean much to you... but I wanted you to have it anyway.' might have given her license to literally take his name from him. Telling a fae that you were "giving" them your name was like putting a 'free' sign on a flat-screen tv and leaving in a populous area. Many fae would gleefully take advantage of this, and the next moment the person wouldn't remember what their own name was. When others spoke it, it would sound like nonsense and its written form would look like scribbles to the individual, completely stripped of the first gift they were given after coming into the world.

Illy was not malevolant though, so she simply took note of it. Ethan... it seemed to fit him well. A softer name that still retained its masculinity. They were no longer strangers, having traded names, which meant that she could no longer completely ignore him.

Her head turned to the side enough that he could see that her lips were curled up in a little smile. "I will politely decline taking your name from you, but I will surely remember it, Ethan." She wasn't going to promise that she would come to him and ask him questions about himself. That was something she wasn't sure of. Perhaps she would someday when the curiosity got the better of her, but for now she wanted to observe the content of his character before committing to anything.

The nymph's hair swished side-to-side as she started walking again, making her way into the tree-line before disappearing again. Over the next week she didn't reveal herself to him again, though there were times where she would check in on him to see what he was up to.

Sometimes as she walked through the woods she would find her mind drifting to him. What would she ask him if given the chance? Why did he want her to know more about him? What was his aim in trying to become friends with her? His motives weren't clear, especially since he didn't seem to have any goals or ventures. He just.. wandered. She wandered as well, but her wandering had a purpose, his seemed more like the steps of a man who didn't know where he needed to go.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan sat alone at the table, staring into the woods long after she had gone. His coffee had turned cold, the taste forgotten as his mind wandered far beyond the forest’s edge. Her parting words hung in the air: "I will surely remember it, Ethan." There was something about the way she’d said his name that stirred a faint warmth in his chest, though it was fleeting. Her departure left a quiet that he couldn’t quite ignore, and in its stillness, his thoughts turned inward.

He hadn’t spoken Mia’s name aloud in weeks—not since her funeral. The memory of her felt heavy now, like the forest itself pressing down on him. They had shared a love for the wilderness, for the stillness and beauty of places untouched by the chaos of the world. She had called it their sanctuary, their escape from the grind of careers and deadlines, the endless swirl of human noise. It was supposed to be safe.

Ethan closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around the mug as if bracing against the memory. He could still see her—dark curls pinned back under a baseball cap, the sun catching on her freckled cheeks as she laughed, teasing him about how slow he was on the trail. They’d planned the hike for weeks, pouring over maps and reading up on trail conditions. It was supposed to be an adventure. It wasn’t supposed to be the last time he’d ever see her alive.

The fall had been fast, brutal, and unforgiving. One misstep on loose gravel, one moment of bad luck. He hadn’t even heard her scream—just the echo of rocks tumbling into a gorge too deep to see the bottom. By the time he climbed down to her, she was gone, her body as still as the air around them.

He had carried that stillness with him ever since.

Coming to the forest wasn’t a choice, not really. He hadn’t been able to return to their apartment, to the life they had built together. Every corner of it whispered her absence—the books she left half-read, the plants she watered too often, the faint scent of her favorite tea still lingering in the kitchen cabinets. The city felt suffocating, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. So he ran, seeking refuge among the trees, in a place where no one knew him and no one asked questions. A place where he could be anonymous, where the silence of the woods might one day drown out the silence she’d left behind.

But even here, Mia’s ghost followed him. Every rustling leaf, every whisper of wind, every break in the canopy that let sunlight stream through—he saw her in all of it. He wasn’t sure if the forest was healing him or haunting him, but it was the only place he felt close to her. It was why he’d stayed.

Ethan opened his eyes and exhaled slowly. The nymph—Illy, he corrected himself—had been right about one thing. His steps were aimless. He didn’t know where he was going because he didn’t know where he belonged anymore. The forest had become his refuge, but it wasn’t a home. It wasn’t hers.

And yet, for the first time in months, he felt something like hope stirring in the corners of his grief. The forest wasn’t just trees and shadows—it had a heartbeat, a guardian. And now, Ethan realized, it had a witness. Someone who knew his name and had chosen to remember it.

He spoke softly to the empty air, almost as if testing the sound of it. “Mia,” he whispered, the name catching in his throat. It didn’t feel like a summons, just a release, a tethered thought finally let loose. His gaze drifted back to the treeline where Illy had vanished, and for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt the smallest flicker of curiosity about what might come next.​

 

[Poprockz]

Illy was sitting in a tree near the path Ethan often took, investigating a bird's nest when she heard him coming down the trail. The eggs in the nest were broken and black, oozing with thick, black goo... the shells seemed to be tainted by something that did not belong in the forest, and it gave her a bad feeling. Her eyebrows pinched in concern, but she looked up as she saw him coming over a small hill in the path.

She observed when out of nowhere, a bear cub crossed onto the path and then the other. One playfully swatted at the other before they both noticed Ethan and looked at him curiously. Bears weren't necessarily common in these parts- likely the bears were simply passing through the area, she figured.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan froze mid-step, his boots crunching the gravel path as his eyes locked on the two bear cubs. They had appeared so suddenly it was as if the forest itself had conjured them. One was swatting at the other, its movements clumsy and playful, but their curiosity about him was clear. Their round eyes focused on him, heads tilting slightly as if trying to decide whether he was friend or foe.

"Okay," Ethan whispered to himself, raising his hands slowly. "This is fine. They’re just... little bears. Cute, even. No big deal."

But as he shifted his weight back to take a cautious step away, a deep, guttural growl rumbled through the trees. His stomach dropped. He didn’t need to see her to know the mother bear was close.

The growl came again, louder this time, and from the corner of his eye, he caught movement in the dense underbrush. The mother bear emerged, her massive frame cutting a shadow through the filtered sunlight. Her fur was dark and thick, her eyes sharp and protective as she took in the sight of her cubs and the man standing too close for comfort.

Ethan’s breath hitched. “Oh no. Nope. This is not fine.”

The bear huffed, her muscles tensing as she took a step forward. The cubs scampered to her side, still curious but now sticking close to their mother. Ethan knew enough about wildlife to understand the situation he was in—this wasn’t just dangerous; it was potentially lethal. A mother bear with cubs was one of the most unpredictable and aggressive animals in the wild.

He took a slow step back, his hands still raised. "Easy, big girl," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. "I’m not here to mess with your kids. Just passing through, I swear."

The bear didn’t seem reassured. She let out another warning growl, her massive paws crunching the ground as she advanced. Ethan’s pulse pounded in his ears. He needed to think, and fast. Running was out of the question—she’d be on him in seconds if he turned his back. Playing dead? That only worked sometimes, and he wasn’t keen to test his luck.

His mind raced to Illy. The thought of calling her made his chest tighten. What if she was busy? What if this was one of those crucial moments where the forest needed her, and he pulled her away for something as selfish as saving his own skin?

"Dammit, Ethan," he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm. The bear was watching him closely now, every move scrutinized. "You’re really going to die here because you’re too polite to ask for help?"

Another growl shattered his thoughts, and Ethan swallowed hard. He could feel the tension in the air, the forest holding its breath.​

 

[Poprockz]

Her eyes widened as she watched the mother come into view, knowing that this could turn into a very bad encounter for him. She waited for him to call for her, knowing that her name would at least stall the bear enough that she could get out of the tree and come to mediate things. However, her name never came, and she felt her stomach drop as the large animal prepared to teach him a painful lesson. She had to get there fast, or Ethan would simply be the name of a human she once briefly knew.

There was the sound of a falcon’s screech before the flutter of wings followed. The bird had swooped down at tremendous speed, holding itself in mid-air between Ethan and the bear. The next moment, its shape changed and the nymph’s now human feet delicately lighted upon the forest floor once more.

She held up her arms in a calming gesture and spoke in a language Ethan couldn’t understand. The generality of the conversation was easy to pick up though. Illy had said that the bear shouldn’t attack this man, and the bear had looked at her with annoyance and incredulity. It huffed, raising itself on its hind legs to glower at Ethan over Illy’s head. There was a sigh from the nymph before she said something else, the bear’s ears twitching and its attitude seeming to improve. Or at least it didn’t seem as angry. It licked its lips before leaning forward and letting itself back onto its front paws. There was another huff, this one seemingly of resignation before the mother trudged off with her cubs. They took one last lingering look at the human before scampering off again ahead of their mom.

Illuvian watched them go before turning to him with narrowed eyes. Her hands went to her hips in much the same way a mother would who was preparing to unleash a scolding. “Is there something wrong with your mouth today? Perhaps your tongue ran away in the middle of the night?” She asked in an irritated tone.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan exhaled sharply as the bear lumbered off, his hands still raised as if the massive creature might change its mind and come charging back. His knees felt unsteady, and his breath came in shallow, uneven gulps. He turned to Illy just as she planted her hands on her hips, her expression sharp enough to cut through steel. Her words hit him like a slap, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“Well, excuse me for trying not to bother you while you’re out doing... whatever it is you do!” Ethan shot back, his voice taut with adrenaline. “I didn’t exactly have time to draft a polite invitation to come save my life!”

He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, the tension still radiating through his body. “And for the record,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I didn’t call because I thought maybe—just maybe—you might be doing something more important than dealing with me being too dumb to back off from a bear cub.”

He glanced at the spot where the bear and her cubs had disappeared into the trees, then back at her, his irritation melting into something closer to guilt. “Look,” he said, softer now. “I didn’t mean to... make this your problem. I thought I could handle it, and obviously, I couldn’t. So, yeah. My bad.”

He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “Next time I’ll scream your name like a damsel in distress. Sound good?”​

 

[Poprockz]

“Ethan!” she said sharply before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

Her eyes were keen, as was her judgement most times. He hadn’t been refraining from using her name due to his ego or the very false impression that he could handle it himself, even if he might have said so. It had been obvious to her that he was under no illusions; he knew that he wouldn't have been able to handle it if things had devolved. The look of fear on his face at the first growl told her all she needed to know, namely that he had been thinking about the very real possibility of being dismembered.

It frustrated her that it had occurred to him to use her name, but hadn't done so. He could have died if she hadn't been nearby to put a halt to things.

In truth, she ascertained that he had been concerned that she had been doing something important, and hadn’t wanted to interfere. He might have also been leery of calling upon her after having gotten on her nerves last time. She had thought that he understood what she meant regarding her name and that he would use his best judgement, but it seemed she needed to clarify.

Her voice softened and she tried to have a little heart-to-heart with him, taking a step closer so she could make herself clear. “Ethan… nothing is more important than saving a life. If for some reason you find yourself fearing for your life, please call upon me. If I am in the middle of saving another life, at the very least it will buy you time in most situations. My true name is only known to one living human, which means that animals will wait until I am there to mediate if you invoke it."

There was a little bit of hesitation before her gaze turned somber, a quietness coming to her tone. "I do not wish to be so frightening that you would rather face death than risk angering me. I may get... frustrated at times, but I do not seek to punish you."

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan stood frozen for a moment, her words settling over him like the aftermath of a storm. He hadn’t expected her tone to soften—it was far easier when she was just irritated with him. That, at least, was something he could brace against. But this? This calm, almost vulnerable honesty? It left him floundering for a response.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the forest floor as he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a long breath and said, “Look, Illy… I get it. I do. And I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d want me calling for you over something stupid. And yeah, maybe I figured I’d already burned through whatever goodwill you had left for me.”

He glanced up at her, his expression apologetic but tinged with something else—reluctance, maybe, or shame. “It’s not that I don’t believe you’d help. It’s just… I didn’t want to be the guy who drags you away from something important just because I made a bad call.”

Ethan hesitated, then ran a hand down his face. “I didn’t think I was going to die, okay? I mean, I knew it wasn’t good, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I guess I didn’t think it through. Obviously.”

He let out a humorless laugh and looked back at her. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you stepping in. Really. I’ll try to… I don’t know, be smarter about it next time. And if it gets bad, I’ll call. I promise.”

His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. “I wasn’t trying to be stubborn or… or anything like that. I just didn’t want to screw up and make you hate me more than you probably already do.”​

 

[Poprockz]

As she suspected, he had done it out of a sense of thoughtfulness and fear rather than arrogance. His insinuation that he could have done anything to prevent the bear's wrath was misplaced in her opinion; nothing he could have done would have saved him. The moment the bear cubs had stumbled into his path, he had been locked into one eventuality. Well, he would have been if she hadn't been nearby.

She was taken aback by his last comment, blinking for a moment and at a loss for words. While Illy hadn't been the friendliest neighbor to him, she hadn't thought that he would have gotten such a bad impression of her. Forest nymphs were naturally solitary beings due the them being on their own in the forest most of the time. Of course there were animals and such, but animals didn't have the same ideas regarding manners or social skills.

"I... do not hate you. Perhaps I am very cautious of you, and have been irritated before, but most of the time I am simply curious about you." This admission was followed by her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking away awkwardly. She hoped that he believed her. While she was bound to never lie, for all he knew she was lying about that fact as well.

"If you want to make this up to me, I would take some honey if you had some," she suggested, though she tried not to get her hopes up. "I promised my own honey to the bear to assuage her and I was very much looking forward to eating it. It is not often that I get the opportunity."

Coincidentally, it was the same bear who she had helped in getting her cub out of the muddy river. The bear had left the hive alone, Illy had asked the bees for some honey as a reward, and now that honey was right back in the paws of the bear without the bear having to lift a claw. If she didn't know better, she would feel that someone was playing a trick on her. As it was, she simply assumed that the bear was exceedingly lucky

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan watched her closely, his brow furrowing as she spoke. For a moment, he was certain he’d misheard her. Curious about me? That didn’t sound like the Illy he’d come to know—the one who seemed perpetually exasperated with him and his apparent knack for getting into trouble. But there it was, plain as day in her words and the awkward way she looked away.

“Well, that’s… surprising,” he admitted after a beat, a faint, wry smile tugging at his lips. “Curious, huh? Can’t say I expected that. I mean, most people just find me annoying at best, so you’re already in rare company.”

He let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck again as her request for honey registered. “Honey, huh? Yeah, I can probably manage that. Though, fair warning—I don’t exactly have a hive in my backyard, so you’re getting store-bought. Unless you’d prefer I wrestle some bees for it, which… knowing my luck, wouldn’t end well for anyone involved.”

Ethan’s smile softened, and he took a small step closer, his tone earnest. “I’ll get you the honey. Consider it my way of saying thanks for saving my life. Again.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “And for not hating me. I… didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

He cleared his throat, shifting on his feet awkwardly. “Anyway, I’ll bring it by soon. Promise. You’ve definitely earned it.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Let’s just hope the bear doesn’t come back expecting round two.”​

 

[Poprockz]

It was good to hear that she would have some honey soon, though she was a little leery about whether the store-bought would be any good. If the honey hadn’t come from bees, could it truly be called honey? In any case, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. If it wasn’t what she craved, then at least she could accept the good-will of his offer.

His suggestion that most found him annoying was surprising, and her thoughts circled back to that comment. He didn’t seem the sort that bothered people without conscience, nor did he seem to have any abrasive attributes. Well, other than his lack of self-preservation. Come to think of it, she wondered if his close encounter with the river might have been intentional. The thought of him actively seeking his own demise made her uncomfortable.

Illuvian regarded him with a wary and concerned look, trying to word things as sensitively as she could. "Ethan... it occurs to me that I have indeed saved your life twice, both times seeming as though they would be preventable. Are you... What I mean to say is, are you suffering from a sickness of the heart?" She hoped that this was delicate enough not to offend him.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan’s steps slowed as her words played over in his mind. He hadn’t expected the question—least of all the way she’d phrased it. A sickness of the heart. It was delicate, yes, but it landed with the weight of a stone, cutting through the space between them like an unspoken truth suddenly given form.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood there, running his hand over the stubble on his jaw and staring off into the trees as if they might hold the answer for him. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh and glanced back in the direction where she had stood moments before.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, the usual humor in his voice replaced with something heavier. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m just… tired. Of pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. Of trying to outrun something that always catches up with me in the end.”

He sank to sit on a moss-covered log nearby, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared down at the forest floor. “You probably noticed I don’t really have much of a plan out here. That’s because I wasn’t exactly planning to be here at all. Not long ago, I had a life. A job, a home, and… someone I loved. Her name was Mia.”

The name hung in the air for a moment, and Ethan closed his eyes, as if bracing himself. “She loved the outdoors. Hiking, climbing, all of it. We used to go on trips together, see places most people never even think to look for. She was fearless.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Too fearless, maybe.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “One day, she went on a hike alone. I couldn’t go—I had to work, and she said she’d be fine. She always was, you know? Except that time, she wasn’t.” His voice grew quieter. “She slipped. Lost her footing. By the time they found her… it was too late.”

Ethan dragged a hand down his face, his voice trembling just slightly. “After that, everything just… unraveled. I couldn’t stay in the same house, the same town, where everything reminded me of her. So, I packed up and left, thinking maybe if I got far enough away, I could start over. But it turns out, grief doesn’t really care where you are.”

He lifted his gaze then, staring into the distance with a hollow sort of resolve. “I’m not out here because I want to die, if that’s what you’re asking. But I guess I don’t really know how to live, either. Not anymore.”

Ethan exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry. That’s probably more than you wanted to hear. But… thanks for asking. Most people don’t.” He managed a faint, rueful smile. “You’re full of surprises, Illy. I’ll give you that.”​

 

[Poprockz]

It was a relief to hear that he wasn’t going seek dangerous things that might be his undoing. Perhaps it was more that a man lost and wandering was bound to trip if his mind and heart were distracted.

His story saddened her. While she had never been in love personally, she had observed it in humans and other fae. It looked to her as though the two were bound by the heart, and the loss of his partner had only left this own heart feeling as though part of him had been lost.

Even animals felt sadness when they lost someone close to them. A wolf pack would howl at the loss of one of their own while a mother squirrel would try to nudge the body of her child and chitter in distress if it fell out of the tree. Death was a natural part of the world order, but that did not make it easier to accept for those who were left behind in the land of the living.

Illy moved to him and took a seat next to the man, making sure that their bodies were not in contact. At first she wasn’t sure what to say to all that, and her eyes stared into the trees as though trying to seek an appropriate response.

“You’re welcome… and thank you for telling me this,” she responded quietly. “I have not felt the love you shared with her, but I know the grief of losing someone close to you. It is like one’s heart is calling out and receiving only echoes of your own voice in return. It is regret, love, and despair, and its weight can be heavy.”

The nymph looked at him with compassionate eyes, despite her generally neutral expression. “There will always be a scar, but your wound will heal in time if you let it. A forest may burn, but years later life and growth will return to it.” She then stood, looking down at him with her observant green eyes.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan sat in silence after her words, absorbing them as though they were water soaking into dry soil. He didn’t meet her gaze, not at first, but the weight of her words pressed against him—compassion wrapped in the blunt honesty he’d come to expect from her. The forest burns, but it regrows. It sounded so simple, yet the thought of regrowth, of moving forward, felt insurmountable.

Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling a shaky breath. “You’re a lot more insightful than you let on, Illy,” he murmured, his voice low. He leaned back on the log, letting his head tilt upward toward the canopy of trees above. The sun filtered through the leaves in scattered patches, dappling his face with light. “It’s not a bad metaphor. A forest burning. But I guess it’s easier to notice new growth in the forest when you’re not the one standing in the ashes.”

Ethan shifted his focus to his hands, idly brushing dirt off his palms. “I don’t know if I’ve let it. Heal, I mean. Some days, it feels like I’m still standing in the middle of the fire, and other days… other days it feels like the fire’s gone, but all I’ve got left is the smoke choking me.” He frowned, shaking his head. “Sorry. That’s… dramatic. Even for me.”

He glanced at her then, his expression a little softer. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe things do grow back, even if it takes a while.” He hesitated, then added, almost reluctantly, “I think I’ve been too busy trying to ignore it, hoping it’d go away if I just kept moving. But running hasn’t done much but make me tired.”

His gaze dropped back to the ground. “You probably think I’m a mess. And, well, you’re not wrong. But… thanks for saying that. I’m not sure I’d believe it from anyone else, but coming from you? I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

Ethan stood then, brushing off the back of his pants. He glanced at her and managed a faint, crooked smile. “I guess it’s not every day a guy gets life advice from a forest nymph. That’s one for the books.” He started to turn back toward the path but paused, looking over his shoulder. “You, uh… you’ve got a way with words, Illy. And you’re not bad company, even if you do scold me half the time.”

He gave her a nod, his smile lingering. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure. And… thanks.” With that, he headed back toward the trail, his steps slow and thoughtful, her words still echoing in his mind.​

 

[Poprockz]

All the while, she didn't interrupt his speech. She merely listened as he spoke out loud to himself as much as to her. It seemed as though he was digesting her words, contemplating his own relationship with grief at the moment.

He didn't seem dramatic, nor did it seem to her that he was a mess. Perhaps he was being too hard on himself and couldn't see that he was going through the natural process of working through his tumultuous emotions. A forest that had burned would be black and lifeless for a long time, and the progress it made towards being a lively forest once more was not something one could see from day to day. The change was almost painstakingly slow, frustrating even. Though no matter how much one willed it, the thing most important to the forest's future was time and a refusal to remain a charred wasteland.

"You're welcome..." Illy said quietly as he turned away. Though as she watched him go silently, she wondered to herself whether her words had truly helped him or not. Words were nice, but a pain of that magnitude didn't heal simply from a few words from someone who was little more than a stranger. Time... Time was what he needed. Time and a will to rebuild.

The nymph turned away to walk her own path, the two of them not crossing paths for the next week.
...

It was the middle of the night, the forest dark and sleepy as some settled in to rest and others awoke to hunt. The lights were off in the cabin as the man slumbered. However, an oppressiveness could soon be felt in the darkness and it began to grow very cold. It was an unnatural feeling, as though the very air could tell that something was there that didn’t belong.

In the window a shadow moved to look inside, though one couldn’t see any eyes on the humanoid shadow. It looked as though shadow itself had become flame, its edges flickering and whisping away as it lingered. Soon though, its features started to become more distinct, and though it was a very crude imitation, it became obvious that the thing had taken Mia's form. Or perhaps the thing was Mia. If that was the case, then no one could argue that it was a cursed, warped version of her.

"Ethan..." it whispered in a voice that sounded like a shrill gust of wind in a blizzard. "Ethan, I'm so cold... Please let me in..."

*thunk.*

The thing tapped the window with the bottom of its palm, looking at him expectantly. Still no eyes. Still no mouth. Just a pitch-black entity that wanted inside.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan jolted awake with a start, the sound of the tapping cutting through the silence of the night like a blade. His heart pounded in his chest as his senses caught up to him, and the oppressiveness in the air seeped into his skin. He shivered, instinctively pulling his blanket tighter around himself, though the chill he felt had nothing to do with the temperature.

The tapping came again, and he turned his head toward the window, his breath catching in his throat. There, outlined in the faint moonlight, was a shadowy figure. Its edges flickered like flames, and for one horrifying moment, he thought it might be his imagination playing tricks on him. But then it moved—leaning closer to the glass, its featureless face somehow fixed on him.

"Ethan..." The voice was sharp and unnatural, slicing through his thoughts. It was a warped mockery of a voice he knew so well, a voice that haunted his dreams and memories. "Ethan, I'm so cold... Please let me in..."

It was her. Or it was something wearing her. The imitation was crude, grotesque, like a painting smeared beyond recognition. Yet the faint resemblance to Mia pierced through him, twisting his fear into something raw and painful.

Thunk.

The shadow tapped the glass again, the sound deliberate and eerily human despite the impossibility of what he was seeing. His instincts screamed at him to move, to run, to do anything but sit frozen in his bed. His mind raced—was it real? A trick of the mind? Some cruel nightmare? But the weight in the air, the chill that made his breath visible, told him this was no illusion.

He needed help. And there was only one name he could think of.

"I... Illuvian," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His throat felt dry, his voice tight. He closed his eyes, tried again, louder this time, his desperation clear. "Illuvian!"

The oppressive air seemed to shift slightly, though he couldn’t tell if it was because she had heard him or if the entity at the window was reacting to his plea. Ethan kept his eyes on the figure, trembling as it tilted its head, the flickering shadows making it appear almost curious—or irritated.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he spoke again, this time directly at the thing, though his tone betrayed his terror. "Y-you’re not her. You’re not Mia..." His hands clenched the edge of his blanket as he forced himself to keep looking at it. "She wouldn’t—she wouldn’t do this. Whatever you are, get the hell away from me."

The entity remained motionless for a moment, then slowly tilted its head in the other direction, as though considering his words. The tapping ceased, but the silence that followed was somehow worse. Ethan’s heart thundered in his chest as he strained to hear anything—footsteps, movement, anything to indicate what it was going to do next.

"Illuvian..." he whispered again, his voice shaking. "Please..."​

 

[Poprockz]

Really? He had to call for her in the middle of the night?! There was a frustrated groan as she rolled out of her mossy bed and padded toward the tree roots that lined the side of her cave. Unless one was very, very experienced at rock-climbing on wet surfaces, her home in the cave behind the waterfall was nigh inaccessible to most manner of creature. She often found the sound of rushing water soothing, and it usually muffled the sound of thunder if it were to come.

More likely than not he had muttered her name in his sleep, unwittingly calling her to him. If she wanted to sleep without his summons buzzing louder in her ear with each passing minute, it was best to get this over with immediately. Illu fully intended to give him a piece of her mind though. The nymph in only her simple green silk nighty that subtly shimmered under the light walked into the roots and disappeared.

However, when she exited through a tree near his cabin, she could immediately sense that something was amiss. The forest was frightened, the animals quivering in the branches and burrows, anywhere they could see to hide. The trees themselves seemed to shiver.

A serious look came to her face and she strode right up to the cabin, back straight and eyes fierce. She didn’t bother trying to sneak up to the shadow that wanted to make a meal out of Ethan. After all, this was her forest; it was trespassing in her domain.

“Who are you to come here, shadow? This is the Forest of Sunset Hues, and I am its keeper! I am the Whispering Maiden and the Inheritor of The Healing Hand of Gorn. Who are you?” Her words were in the ancient language of the fae, but it was clear from her commanding voice that she was challenging it.

The shadow turned to her and moved away from the window, its attention now fixed on her. There was a breathy chuckle from the creature before it replied in words Ethan could understand, “Do you not know? I was summoned. Born of Anguish and Hunger. The promise was made and the offerings consumed.”

Illy’s expression became more severe as she pointed a finger at the creature and continued to speak in the old language. As she stated before: words had power, and she was hoping that the pressure of her words upon it would be enough to compel it to flee. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would buy her some time to be able to properly deal with it. “You do not belong here, shadow. Go back to your plane. Go from this forest. Leave and never return.”

It shivered.

“No.”

Things happened very quickly after that. It surged towards her, but she was able to gracefully jump out of the way with a turn to continue facing it. The nymph started to chant, her hand glowing green as she wove a spell upon it. This was going to be tricky… Since it was the middle of the night, she hadn’t thought to bring any of her things or tools, so she didn’t have a crystal with which to trap the thing. It seemed… that this would unfortunately have to be handled the old-fashioned way. She had never done this before, but Illy remembered her teachings and knew that this was her only recourse.

The thing screamed shrilly as a force-field of green started to close in around it, making it smaller and smaller until it was the size of a fist. It looked like a large bubble of smoke as it drifted towards the nymph. She leaned forward and put her lips to the bubble, sucking in the smoke.

There was silence, the forest seeming to hold its breath as she staggered. A hand was put to the picnic table as she trembled, her body fighting the thing like it would an infection. She coughed and some black goo splattered upon the wood of the table. Her lip trembled slightly as her vision started to blur; her head felt dizzy and she could feel the fever taking hold. It was at this point that her legs lost strength and she started to fall.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan’s heart raced as he watched Illuvian collapse to her knees, her once-fluid movements now shaky and unsteady. The eerie green glow that had surrounded her moments ago was gone, and the forest was silent—oppressively so. He froze for a moment, trying to process what he had just seen. The entity, the battle, the way she had absorbed it... none of it made sense. But there was no denying what had just unfolded before his eyes: Illuvian had saved his life, and now she was in trouble.

“Illy!” he shouted, rushing forward as she started to fall. He reached her just in time, catching her before she hit the ground. Her body was warm—too warm—and she was trembling in his arms. He could see the strain on her face, the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her breaths came in short, uneven gasps.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, lifting her up carefully. She was lighter than he expected, her frame delicate and fragile now that her usual strength had faltered. He carried her toward the cabin, his mind racing with questions and fear. What the hell had that thing been? And what had she done to herself by absorbing it?

Once inside, Ethan laid her gently on the bed, adjusting her so that her head rested on the pillow. She didn’t stir, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she fought whatever was happening inside her. He stood over her for a moment, running a hand through his hair as panic threatened to take hold.

“I should take you to a hospital,” he said aloud, pacing the small room. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew it wasn’t an option. How could he explain this to anyone? “Yeah, hi, a fae nymph just absorbed some kind of shadow demon to save me. Could you patch her up?” They’d think he was insane. Hell, he would’ve thought he was insane if he hadn’t just seen it all with his own eyes.

He glanced back at Illuvian, her face pale despite the fever burning through her. The faint shimmer of her green nightgown caught the moonlight filtering through the window, a reminder of just how otherworldly she was. She didn’t belong in a hospital. Whatever was happening to her, it wasn’t something human medicine could fix.

“Okay, Ethan, think,” he muttered, dragging a chair over to sit beside the bed. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at her as if the answer might somehow present itself. “You got her into this mess. You’re gonna have to get her out of it.”

But how? He wasn’t some magical healer. He didn’t even know the first thing about fae biology—or whatever it was she had going on. The only thing he could do was make her comfortable and hope she pulled through.

Ethan grabbed a damp cloth from the small kitchen and placed it gently on her forehead, hoping it would help with the fever. He sat back down, his gaze never leaving her. The cabin was silent except for the faint sound of her labored breathing and the creak of the chair as he shifted his weight.

“I owe you, Illy,” he said quietly, his voice raw with guilt and gratitude. “I don’t even know how to repay you for this. But I’m not gonna let you go like this. Not after everything you’ve done for me.”

The minutes dragged on, and Ethan found himself leaning forward, his head in his hands. He wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he found himself silently pleading with whatever force might be listening. Let her be okay. Please. Let her be okay.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first night was the hardest. Ethan stayed by Illuvian’s side, helplessly watching as the fever wracked her body. Her breathing was uneven, punctuated by fits of coughing that brought up viscous, black goo, which he wiped away with trembling hands. He grabbed an empty bowl and placed it beside the bed, realizing that he’d need it often.

When the chills began, they were violent. She shivered uncontrollably, her body curling in on itself. Ethan rummaged through his belongings, piling every blanket he could find on top of her. Despite his efforts, the cold didn’t seem to abate. At one point, her trembling hand reached out and clutched his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so ill.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, sitting beside her and letting her hold onto him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Later, the fever worsened. Illuvian’s shivers gave way to unbearable heat, and she clawed at the blankets, her skin slick with sweat. Ethan turned away as she tried to shed the nightgown entirely, her desperation clear. He grabbed one of his larger shirts from a drawer, draping it over her instead. It was loose and lightweight, enough to keep her dignity intact while allowing her some relief.

Ethan found himself in constant motion, switching between cooling her down with damp cloths and trying to keep her warm when the fever shifted. He barely slept, snatching a few minutes of rest in the chair when her breathing steadied. Every time she coughed, he bolted upright, ready to help her through another round of expelling the strange black substance from her lungs.

By the second day, the delirium set in. Illuvian’s eyes fluttered open briefly, unfocused and glassy. She muttered incomprehensible things, her voice weak and strained. Ethan leaned closer, trying to make sense of the words, but there was no coherence. Her hand occasionally reached out, and he instinctively took it, offering whatever comfort he could.

“You’re going to get through this,” he said, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep. “You’re strong. Stronger than I could ever be.”

When her fever broke into moments of clarity, Ethan realized she needed food. He prepared a simple broth, something easy for her to swallow, and sat beside her to spoon-feed her. The first attempt went poorly. Illuvian gagged and pushed the spoon away, and Ethan noticed her grimace when the metal utensil touched her lips.

“Of course,” he muttered, smacking his forehead. “No metal.”

He dug through his kitchen drawers until he found a small wooden spoon he’d used once during a camping trip. With that, she managed a few sips, though it was slow going. Ethan held the spoon carefully, coaxing her to drink little by little.

“You’ve got to eat,” he urged softly, his tone gentle but firm. “I know it’s hard, but you need your strength.”

The black tears started that evening. They rolled down her cheeks like ink, staining the pillow beneath her head. Ethan wiped them away with a damp cloth, his stomach churning at the sight. He couldn’t fathom what her body was going through, but he stayed by her side, determined to help her fight through it.

By the third day, Ethan was exhausted. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, but he refused to leave her. When the chills returned, he climbed into bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form to keep her warm. When the fever spiked, he fetched cool water and held her hand to ground her through the discomfort.

At one point, she clung to him, her fingers curling into his shirt as though afraid he might disappear. He held her tightly, whispering soothing words, even if she couldn’t hear or understand them.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got you.”

The third night was the turning point. Her coughing grew less frequent, her breathing steadier. The black goo lessened, though it didn’t vanish entirely. Ethan dared to hope, even as he kept vigil through the night. He refused to let his guard down, not until he was certain she was out of danger.

For three days and nights, Ethan cared for her with a single-minded focus, putting his own needs aside. He didn’t know if he was doing enough or if he was even doing the right things, but he refused to give up. She had saved him, and he owed her everything.​