The world behind his eyes was pain. 

He remembered liquid velvet cascading down his front; a pool of scarlet ribbons folding over itself at his feet. The bodily pain had never come, but there had been a moment when he had met the eyes of another, and the pain that had lanced his heart had killed him more soundly than any blade. It was the leaving that hurt – the inescapable leaving. 

He could still hear a song. It was a chanted verse in his ear; the gentle rising of a single word over and over and over again. 

"No, no, no!"

Someone had held him. Soft hands - the hands of an artist - had clung to him. He could still taste the lips of a last goodbye, of whispered promises, of magicks cast in desperation. He had felt his blood twist and turn as it was pulled from his body, as it was used to fuel some unknown spell. 

In the end he had died. 

And yet he dreamed. 

Over and over.

Until it changed. It changed from ribbons of red to soft threads of light. The smell of gore had been replaced with the richness of earth. The air in his lungs had grown stale. 

He choked. 

Desperation pushed him to the surface. His hands tore through the thick loam of earth in search of the sky. Dirt and rock and dust fell away to reveal the verdant crowns of towering giants, the golden sprawl of sunlight casting the world in brilliance. He heaved a breath, eyes wild as he beheld a place he did not know. 

For a long moment he sat in silence, a bewildered man gasping for breath in a shallow grave. 

The leaves did not rustle in her passing.

A slight ripple of dark green skimmed between trees, but was it a cloak or just another shrub rocking in the wind. No tracks remained, no sign of passing was left to be seen but she was there. She saw it all and left nothing behind. To her this was just a dance through the wilderness.

If someone did see her they would notice the smile on her face as she dashed quietly off of even the forgotten paths. Her auburn was hair billowing behind her and green eyes sparkling with joy. This girl was the embodiment of life, of joy, and of adventure! There was never a pause in that run but an arrow flew silently through the air none the less, with a great thunk it landed in the notch of a tree nearly a dozen strides away, the only sign that anyone had been there in an age.

Even as the echo of the arrow’s strike rang through the forest the girl was away again. There was no clear direction to her running, there was no obvious goal. The only thing that could be driving her was the thrill of the journey itself, and the excitement of shooting her bow at difficult targets from breakneck speeds.

Two more were loosed, one landing in the knothole of an old oak, the other sinking deep into the soft wood of a thin but long dead ash tree who’s bark had fallen of long ago. Again even as they struck the girl was gone, giggling briefly through the underbrush. The giggling however stopped abruptly when a hand burst from the ground. With a swift leap she was gone again quiet as a mountain cat.
 

From the branches of an old elm she watched, curious more than scared, though an arrow was notched in her bow. Most people would assume that arm was the dead returning to curse the living…but a keen eye would notice it was not rotted, and it had the color of living flesh. So she sat, silently, waiting to see just what was to happen next…

He heard nothing. The world was muted by a ringing. His own heartbeat was a dull thunder rumbling through him. He could see the trees emerald crowns swaying overhead, but the wind was silent. His hands lifted to touch his ears, fingers running across dirtied skin that sparked under his touch. It was magic that had deafened him; the last vestiges of a long-spell still clung to him. His own magicks remained dormant, a frightening suggestion of the power that had been cast. 

He reached forward to pull himself from the hole, grimacing at the weakness in his hands and limbs. The earth pulled on him, great roots tugging at his shoulders as if the very forest sought to keep him. He pushed them off, his expression strained as his strength waned. With a sudden lurch he fell forward, sprawling across the forest floor with a grunt.  He rolled onto his back and was still, his eyes circling as the world spun around him. 

And then he heard it - the world. It came upon him as a storm might. A sudden rolling of sound; of wind crashing against trees, and of birds and bees screaming.  He clapped his hands to his ears, but even that could not deafen the sounds of a thousand years. It built around him - a great cacophony of the world as it had lived and breathed and changed around his grave. 

The world roared. 

"Dragon."

The word was his name, but the voice that had said it was achingly familiar. He opened his eyes expecting someone to be there, but all that remained was a whisper of his name and the emerald giants that crowded around him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice as it should be and not the deafening cry of the world's entirety. 

His hands fell from his ears.

"I'm sorry."

The trees were silent and the forest stood still as this man broke through the surface of the earth and sat dumbstruck before it. From her perch in the trees she watched, just as silent and just as still. Only the slightest breath passed her lips, slowly, calmly escaping then returning in rhythm with the calmness that surrounded her. Everything was peaceful. Everything was quiet. Except for this man.

Soft feet left the safety of the trees and landed with the slightest of a patter upon the ground. Her bow was in hand but the arrow was put away, concerned movements led her closer to the stranger, stopping only a few shot paces away. She could hear his breathing now, not panicked but not calm, not in rhythm. As if he did not belong here, and as if he knew it. Quietly she squatted behind him not certain what to do, but positive she should help. The forest could be frightening to one who didn’t know them.
 
“Why are you sorry?” She spoke softly and with deep care. There was little concern for her own safety in this  gesture. Just a simple, genuine, and curious act of kindness. Even as she spoke the girl looked around but found no signs of passing bigger than a badger’s.
 

“Did you lose someone out here?”

Voiceless words formed on his lips. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. 

Dragon.

A girl squatted beside him. His disoriented stare focused sharply. Despite the softness behind her words and the compassion in her face, he reeled upright and swiveled sharply on the balls of his feet to face her. There was a moment when the world jolted under him – his body struggling under the sudden demand to survive –, and he fell over with a sharp breath. As soon as slumped to the earth, he struggled again, desperately trying to find his feet under him. In the end he mimicked her, his hands splayed across the earth lest he fall again. 

His body shook with the effort. 

In his breast he felt the familiar sensation as he drew on his own magicks, but it never came. 

The long-spell still had him. 

Her words made him hesitate. He reached up to touch his throat, his lips, the worn and dirtied cloth that had once been a shirt. He stared at the fabric with confusion, brow furrowing as he realized the richness of it. He could never have afforded such wealth. 

He considered her, "I don't know." 

He touched his throat again. "Did you see someone else? I… Where am I?"

He moved, violently, to confront her. Instinctively the girl rolled away to the side, well out of reach. As swiftly as he had risen though, the man fell back to the ground. His hands caught him and held, as if to keep the ground from pulling him down again. Concern on her face the girl pressed forward again, slowly closing the distance between her and this man. He was struggling and lost. How he had ever gotten to this place was a mystery but the girl seemed certain to help him escape it.
 
“I’ve not seen another soul in days,” She replied to him carefully coming to a stop within reach of the man. “And I can’t see any sign of someone passing here recently.”
 
She stopped and looked around again, her lips pursed together in consternation. A low hum thrumming from her nostrils as she contemplated their surroundings. There were no tracks, no worn paths, no broken branches or crushed grass. Aside from her own barely perceptible trail there was nothing of note. That and the strange man who had torn his way up from the earth itself, beneath grass and root, only to be lost when he awoke. Sharp green eyes redirected themselves back to the man.
 
“Then again you got here and I can’t see how that happened either. You must be awful good at hiding your trail, perhaps your friend is as well?”
 
She offered him a canteen of water with a small smile.
 

“Drink up, you look like you could use it.” She offered, “As for where you are, you are deep, very deep, in the Virens Forest. Deep enough I wouldn’t even expect to see poachers or outlaws. I don’t think you fall into one of those camps, at least I hope not. Do you?”

Days. His fingers brushed across the smooth skin of his throat. A fleeting touch told him more than words: he was whole again, but at what cost? There had been a knife impaled in his throat, and the world had grown quiet and cold and heavy. Death was not readily held at bay. The price of his life would have been astronomical. 

Magic is not infinite. It requires a price to be paid. 

"What price did you pay?" He whispered to himself, fingers trailing the unmarred skin of his throat.

He blinked when the girl spoke. He accepted the canteen of water with little qualm, too encompassed in a fog of confusion and bewilderment and shock to use caution. He brought it to his lips without thought of poison or consequence and drank. It was only as he handed the canteen back to her that he felt his body tremble with effort. He sat down, his eyes fluctuating from focused to disoriented as he beheld the forest around them.

In one moment he saw the world as it was, and the the next he saw red ribbons falling across brown earth. He felt whole, and then he felt the sucking and leeching pull of his blood through his veins.

"The Virens Forest?" He asked, the word foreign and heavy. "I am neither poacher nor outlaw," he said, his eyes focusing on her with sharpness. "But… why are you here? What manner of luck brought you here when so few come this far? Were you to watch for me?"

The man was clearly in shock of some sort. He was talking to himself, slow to move, and barely responsive to the girl's overtures. He did take the canteen which made her smile a little. Her expression was hopeful, even if her eyes still darted about the forest on occasion, looking for any sign, any hint as to where he might have come from or where his friend may have gone. She took back the canteen and saw the man shudder briefly, concern again etched her face but she waited for him to speak.

"Well that's good," the girl replied cheerily, "We can probably be friends then."

She put the canteen away before speaking further. Her posture relaxed and she fell into a cross legged sit with a thump. Green eyes reflected the forest around them, and sparkled with an inner energy that exuded from her voice.

"Well…no I don't have the slightest idea who you are so I'm not here to check on you," She replied quickly, "I'm a forester, or at least my Da was. Taught me what he knew and now I'm here."

Her face twisted into an awkward expression with her lips pursed and her eyes cast down.

"I'm sorry that probably didn't explain anything, but…there's a lot to tell, and most of it is boring. Where do I start? Uhhh…" The girl paused for a moment mid sentence as if distracted then burst back into her story, "Well Like I said my Da was a forester. Jock Longbow, best in the world everyone said so. When Jock found an outlaw they saw justice one way to the other. Anyways Since I was  a little dumpling he was showing me what he did and how. So last year when he passed I…left. And now I'm here? A lot happened in-between but none of it's important. Nobody wanted a girl for a forester but I still do the work if I find a poacher. No outlaws yet, they tend to be trickier to bring in."

She leaned forward to look in on the man and squinted a bit.

"What about you? If you don't mind the question. Why are you here?"

She distracted him from his confusion; her candor and openness left him in stillness. He was more bewildered by how quickly she told him of her life than the fact he was alive to hear it. Her tale was an honest one, and readily given. It was refreshing from the games he had overheard in his service;  mages grappling for power often cast their magic aside in favor of words. 

He watched her carefully as she spoke, the truth of her words leeching him of his caution. "Your father sounds like an admirable man," Dragon said, his voice quiet, "the world is lesser with his passing." 

He thumbed his lower lip, his eyes cast to the torn earth that he had crawled from. Her curiosity was tangible, but he could offer her little. The long-spell still bound him, and behind it he could fathom death. His death. He could scarcely explain his death without risk of finding himself in the ground once more. Even if she was well-intentioned, there were superstitions in the world involving the dead and dying. 

Dragon coughed and averted his gaze. 

"No one wanted a girl forester? Yet it was you that found me in this place." 

He squinted back in an attempt to conceal his dishonesty.

"What is your name?" 

"Yes…"the girl replied, a small style contrasting with the sadness in her eyes, "He was."

She was scratching under her armpit as the man coughed and avoided her question, but she didn't press the issue. Instead the girl just kept smiling and engaged him further as he commented on the fact that she found him. She laughed at that , loudly despite her visible efforts to stifle it.  One hand covering her mouth and the other holding her rib cage she eventually manage to speak.

"Found doesn't seem like the right word, maybe tripped over?" Another laugh and another failed effort to contain it. "You sorta, kinda, definitely burst out of the ground."

She looked at him quizzically after that but still did not press the matter. Kind eyes showed interest but patience with the strange man before her. When he asked for her name she  looked shocked and immediatly thrust out her hand.

"I'm sorry! I should have introduced myself sooner! I'm Frannie! Frances Applewood Longbow. Ma named me after her ma, but Da liked trees, obviously. Whats your name?"