#atleion

Atleion could have laid upon the ground forever, basking in the glow of the sun peaking through the branches. It was calm, quiet, as the forest often was. The serenade of distant animal calls, and the dabble of the river rushing from the far off mountains, lulled him to a drowsy near-slumber.

He may well have fallen asleep had it not been for a sudden weight dropped onto his small body. It knocked the breath from his lungs, eliciting a sharp wheeze.

"Come on, lazy! If we don't keep moving, we're never going to get back before Shaderoot notices."

Atleion's eyes, dark as soot, opened up wide. The world around him was a brightened blur of spire-like trees stretching up into a patchwork canopy. However, placed squarely within his view, was something quite different from a tree.

It was Elyia, adorned in her snowy white shawl, and her finely knit tunic. Her dusky skin caught the shadows of the branches, and her silvery gaze twinkled with the light of adventure.

The weight upon his stomach returned, more forceful and insistent, as Elyia shook him with her foot. She waved a hand above his face for good measure, then took a step back. Like a clock's pendulum, her woolen white tail swayed to a steady, unheard beat.

"It's not much further. Promise!" She beamed. Without another word, she spun on her heels and disappeared from his field of view.

Atleion caught his breath. With a smile spread over his face, he sat up and adjusted his thick poncho over his small frame. Blue, white, and elaborate, it carried the swirling patterns of old decorative symbols common to his people.

"It was only a minute!", Atleion called out. On his feet, he dusted grass off of his knees. He shook his head, sending the unruly mop of curls upon it into a frenzy. His lush purple hair tangled up, right to the tip of his ponytail. With one forceful swing, his tail dislodged the rest of the loose grass clinging to his fur, and he scampered off after his companion.

"A minute! You almost fell asleep." Elyia protested. She paused by the edge of the slow moving river in front of them. Her bare toes touched the water, curling against the soft dirt.

Though Atleion opened his mouth to protest such an assertion, he knew her to be right. It was all he could do to offer her a sheepish smile when she looked back to him, for he had delayed their journey long enough.

"Got you~" Elyia chirped. Her voice carried like a lofty bird's.

Without further warning, she grasped his hand within her own and set off once more. Her feet nimbly touched the large stones protruding from the river's currents. One after the other, she hopped along them, tugging Atleion in tow, until they safely reached the banks of the other side. Even as Atleion stumbled, sliding into the water, she never once relinquished him to the currents.

His fingers wrapped about Elyia's hand, holding it tightly. He could feel the racing of his heart within his chest. It rose like a leaf on the wind, carried higher the faster the two of them moved through the forest's dense depths.

Before long, the two young Aurin came to a stop. Each of their ears rose high, pointed forward at the silence to surround them. Not even the call of beasts rang within this part of the forest, nor the howl of the wind. It was as if the world had frozen in time.

Stretched before them was a tunnel of foliage and stone. The thicket appeared to go on forever, shadowy, dark, and foreboding. The branches of the brush reached down like monstrous teeth, gnashing at the moss ridden boulders to crowd their roots.

Atleion's toes dug into the pine mould and dirt beneath them. The claw like nails at the ends of his toes raked the ground. His grip on Elyia's hand grew tighter, in a vain attempt to mask the tremble of his limbs.

Elyia's fingers laced with Atleion's. She offered him a warm smile. Her long white tail swung behind her, brushing into his playfully.

Her eyes bore a certitude matched only by the fluidity of her steps. She hesitated not a moment longer before beginning down the thicket encased pathway. All the while, she gently herded Atleion forward, guiding him silently into the belly of the beastly path.

Atleion's thickly furred ears pressed against his head. His tail had ceased any semblance of motion, dragging limply behind him and along the ground. One step after the other, he felt his feet sinking into the layers of old pine needles blended with cool dirt. As he looked down, he could see the trail the two of them left; it was a line of small footprints, overlapping every few beats.

"Ely, we shoul---" Atleion began.

"Shhhh."

Elyia's grasp on his hand tightened. It was faint, but situated just in front of them was a genial glow of light. She followed it as a butterfly drawn to a flower.

Though it lasted only a few minutes, Atleion thought it an eternity. He held his breath until they passed from the shadows.

At once, he was greeted with blinding brightness. His eyes squinted. He reached up to shelter them, blinking several times to adjust to the new visage.

"Isn't it pretty?"

Elyia's voice broke the silence.

Atleion lowered his hand. At a gradual pace, his ears began to rise up, right to the very hairs at their tips.

The thicket the two had traveled through had given birth to a clearing, encircled by centuries old verdune trees that stood guard. They were diligent soldiers, intent on protecting the contents of their station. Like a pond of silk, white flowers rose from the grasses. Some grew taller than others, but they all held in bloom. The sun's light brought a twinkle to them. Perhaps most stunning, however, was the rising stone within the center of the clearing. Its surface was clear as glass, reflecting the scene around it like a steady pond.

Atleion's grip on Elyia's hand loosened. His fingers fell from hers.

"Told you it was cool." Elyia leaned over to whisper in his ear. She bound forward, gently placing her feet between the flowers to avoid crushing them. With the grace of a fawn, she moved upon her toes. Once she reached the reflective stone, she spun back around. Her long white hair caught in the breeze, swaying outward. "You can thank me later."

Atleion held few words. He carefully tried to follow the trail his companion had taken, sliding his small feet into place in spaces the flowers had not taken root. He spun as he walked, twisting to catch every angle within his view.

"How'd you even find this?" Atleion laughed. His gaze whipped towards Elyia, and with it came his hair. The waves of lavender tipped purple dangled within his eyes.

Elyia giggled. She pressed a finger to her lips and winked once. "That would be a secret."

The girl turned to face the reflective stone, peering into it. Her hands touched its surface, fingertips pressed firmly to it.

"Really?" Atleion scoffed. Even as he had, a smile remained on his face. He'd reached the tall stone, and once he looked closely to it, he could see his own reflection, staring back at him with doeish eyes and soft features.

"Mmhm." Elyia made the noise passively. She pulled her hand away from the surface of the stone. "But I thought you should see it. Before tonight. It won't be this easy to sneak out here after ... You know."

Atleion looked towards the ground. His tail came to rest among the flowers, and without a word, he sank down to sit upon his heels. Their days of exploring the forest unfettered were soon to be behind them. This much he knew. They were twelve cycles old, and with that came responsibilities. Their future awaited them within their village, and that night it would be decided.

After inhaling a deep breath, Atleion reached over to touch the glassy stone. His fingers curled against its surface. "Yeah..."

"Have you thought about it?" Elyia crouched down next to him. She smoothed her tunic down before seating herself carefully among the flowers. "What you're going to say?"

Atleion shook his head. He was tight-lipped, and his brows twisted in discomfort.

Silence passed between the two children, the world populated by little more than the carefree wind rustling the flower petals and tree branches.

Atleion opened his mouth to speak, only to stop when he felt something tangling within his hair. His eyes lifted towards Elyia, who had become focused as she messed with his purple locks. Her fingers were nimbly braiding something into his hair, and it was not until she reached for another object that he realized she were braiding flowers into it.

His mouth shut and he eased, shifting as she worked a series of them along the side of his head.

Elyia leaned back and held her fingers in front of her as if to frame Atleion in her view. Her tongue stuck out from the side of her mouth. "Hm."

Her tail gently rolled through the flowers behind her. "There we go."

"What'd you do that for?" Atleion tilted his head upward. One of his ears rose high, and his eyes began searching for an answer not easily found.

She dropped her hands down and flashed a warm grin, enough to shine the sharps of her teeth. "For luck."

With her answer stated, Elyia rose to her feet. She dusted her tunic off, staring down at the small boy next to her. Her hands tucked behind her back, elbows straight. "Nothing to be scared of if the forest is with you. Right?"

Atleion stared up at her with wide eyes. His fingers gently trailed the side of his head, just beneath the flower petals worked into his hair. He smiled wide himself, offering Elyia a firm nod in response.

She coyly slapped his back with her tail, prancing off towards the thicket tunnel they had entered through. Her arms flew up and she called out, loud as she could.

"We should get back! If we're late, even the Old Ones can't save us from Shaderoot's ..." Her fingers pulled her eyelids down from her cheeks, dreary and grim. "Stare of no-fun."

Elyia dropped her hands down and dashed off into the thicket, leaving only a flash of her white hair and tail in view before she disappeared into the shadowy foliage. "Last one there has to tell him where we were!"

Try as Atleion did not to laugh, he could not contain it. His shoulders shook. His face flushed a bright red, and he howled into the quiet, scampering off after Elyia towards the thicket entrance.

His feet clumsily carried him through the flowers. More than once he fell, and his long tail, purple as his hair, with a lavender tip, whipped out to try and maintain his balance. As he reached the thicket's entrance, however, something stopped him dead within his tracks. A whisper.

He stood on his toes. His ears pricked up, twisting each direction his head looked, until he turned to glance back at the glassy stone in the clearing, and the sea of white flowers in bloom.

Nothing was there. As soon as the sensation had washed over him, it had drawn away like the rolling tide.

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Dapples of radiant sunlight tangled with the shadows of towering evergreen trees stretching out along the distance of the forest floor. Littered about were the essences of old nature. Fallen logs rotting into the ground, with small bits of fungi and moss clinging needily to their nourishing life raft. Tall, untamed grasses swayed against the soft breeze, brushing up against small stones and overgrown hedges --- and nestled amongst it all were the towering ancient trees that had stood the test of time within such a wild forest.

They were thick and powerful giants, and their roots protruded from the ground to cradle the forest's pathways and clearings like protective guardians; yet not all of their grounds stood undisturbed. They harbored small plants, petty little weeds that shimmered when the stray bit of sunlight broke across them, their leaves dancing lazily. Dozens of them, hundreds of them, connected throughout the trees like an endless sea; a wide river snaking far into the distance of this archaic portion of the wood.

Curled up amongst these petty little weeds was a rather small Aurin child. His messy purple hair splayed out against the ground, its tips a hazy and wavy lavender to contrast the darkest portions of its roots, and all connected to his lazily flopped fur-covered ears. The boy's tail twisted up around his legs. He nuzzled himself deep into the soft grasses, a pleasant little smile across his freckle-adorned face.

This silent space was a safe harbor where he could be alone with the quiet whispers on the winds. Were he to climb the branches of the trees, he could see the mountains, the billowing clouds. Even the small outlines of his tiny little village in the distance. As much as he loved the trees, however, he cherished their flowers more; thus he stayed on the ground, murmuring soft and sweet tunes about the comings of Spring and the blooming of blossoms.

Until his quiet little voice was interrupted by an irritable shouting in the distance...

"Atleion!" The voice cried out, ringing within the trees.

Atleion sat his little body up. His furry ears stood tall and alert, though he did not call back to the voice. His dark eyes stared out into the distance. Gradually the boy crawled his way out of the bed of weed like flowers and grasses, from beneath the towering roots of the old trees. He worked his way up to his wobbly bare feet, toes digging into the dirt of the ground.

"Rainsong, I swear on the Mother Tree, if you don't answer me, I'll feed you to the beasts myself! Atleion!" The voice called out, more irritable than before.

The little Aurin child tensed at such an assertion. He scurried forward a few steps, grabbing the edge of his shirt to tug it down. He leaned, shouting out as loud as his small voice may have been able to carry. "Go away! I dun wanna make baskets!" Atleion shouted into the forest.

The heavy bushes near his santuary rustled violently before giving way to a large, intimidating figure of a man. His sleek blue skin shimmered in the shadows, tiny white speckles adorning it like an array of icy spots. He glared down at the small child with silvery eyes. They were bright, menacing, and commanding.

The moment Atleion saw such eyes, he squeaked. He held the edge of his shirt tighter, his shoulders raising up before he backed away to retreat to his weeds and grasses. Before he could get particularly far, the man scooped him up beneath his muscular arm and held him fast.

"Lemme go, lemme go, lemme go!" Atleion kicked his tiny legs in the air. His tail lashed out like a brutal whip, though it hardly seemed to phase his captor. When it elicited no response, he threw his head off to the side, lodging his tiny fangs into the blue Aurin's arm.

The man grunted, ignoring the bite and the flailing. His own fur-coated ears, rounded and bushy, folded backwards with vague aggression. He took his free hand, setting it on the scruff of the boy's neck to lightly squeeze there before letting go and turning to head back into the brush he'd come through, boy in tow. The best policy for a tantrum, after all, was to ignore it and allow it to pass like a violent storm. Eventually it would give way to calm, and until then, he was prepared to endure the inconveniences and pain.

"Lemme go!" Atleion cried out, his small face flushed red and irritable as he was carted through the thick leaves and into the forest. He stared out towards the path they'd traveled, towards his weed like flowers and grasses. The further they walked, the further away they grew, and the more he thrashed with the fury of a wild savage. After a great deal of struggle, luck appeared to grant the small child's wishes. He'd bitten a particularly tender space on the man's arm, only to find himself plopped abruptly on the ground. He crashed into the dirt when the man reeled back.

Quickly, Atleion scrambled back through the leaves and bushes, back towards the cradling embrace of the old ancient trees and their quiet little song. He did not get particularly far when the man once more grasped his arm, spinning him around to look him in the eyes.

"Are you Aurin or beast, child?" The man's brows furrowed intensely.

Atleion sniffled, hot tears forming in his eyes. He hadn't responded to the question, more intent on puffing himself up to seem as big as a small child possibly could be. The fur of his ears and tail bristled. His hair rose dramatically, and he cast a deep scowl at the man with all the pouting indignation he could muster.

The man sighed. He took one hand to brush his long blue hair from his face, tossing it back over his shoulder. Calmly he placed both hands on the child's shoulders.

"I dun wanna make baskets. Oly's mean." Atleion sniffled, puffing himself up further with each moment to pass. "And I dun like it. It's not fun."

The man let out a soft chuckle, quirking his brows at the boy. "So you're running from Oly?" He inquired, only to be greeted with no certain response. He wouldn't need one. He could tell from the glint in the small Aurin's eyes what the truth of the matter was.

Atleion rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He looked away from the man in a huff; his little ears wilted downward, the bristle of his fur dropping with the heavy breathing of his tantrum. He stood in utter silence. Only when the man addressed him once more did he meekly look back to him.

"You don't have to make baskets." The man relented, releasing Atleion from his grasp. "But I can't leave you out here, understand? It's dangerous for a child."

Atleion's brows twisted in confusion. He fiddled with the edge of his shirt, shuffling from foot to foot. "I like it here." His voice dropped to the tone of a whisper. "I wanna stay! I'mma big Aurin!" He let go of his shirt, puffing out his chest and patting it twice with his fist at his heart.

A moment of quiet passed between the two Aurin as they rested amongst the verdant world about them. The sounds of the forest echoed within the distance, calm, steady, and constant. After a great deal of listening, the man closed his eyes. He set a hand on the little child's head, brushing back his wavy purple and lavender hair with tender fondness. His silvery eyes opened to look into Atleion's blackened ones, piercing, knowing, and understanding. Without a single sound, the large blue Aurin began to walk, guiding Atleion down the path they'd traveled ... Back to the weeds and grasses cradled beneath the loving arms of their trees. His shaggy tail swept against the ground with each careful step.

Atleion looked up at him in nervous bewilderment. He set his hands in front of him, grasping the edge of his shirt for security and comfort. In equal quiet, he followed the much older man into the forest. His tiny bare feet clutched at the dirt, moss, and pebbles littering the floor. Now and then they would fall neatly into the old footprints left by his elder companion.

"Let me tell you a story..." The man whispered. He took the small boy and sank to the ground, sitting amongst the winding sea of shimmering weed-like plants in the shade of the trees.