Mountains in My Mind

TO THE WOODS AND WATERS WILD

“When I go, there will be flowers in the snow.
When I die, there will be mountains in my mind.”

The male’s sandstone pelt shimmered in the light, which scattered through the leaves of the trees and danced along the brown and russet hues on his back. Spring was beautiful in Melrose, he had to admit, breathing life into flowers of all shapes and colors. But these woods were incredible. Every bit of dappled light that fell through the canopy landed on a fern, or a mossy log, or some twisting, rich, green vine. It was secluded but welcoming at the same time.

And Arythmetik had no way of knowing that it was his old home.

His emerald eyes glistened with curiosity as he tread deeper. The trees started to arch overhead like a tunnel, and just beyond, he could see the crumbling ruins of a stone building. Instead of trying to track Aryth from above, the crow landed softly on his shoulders. It bobbed left and right as the wolf did not miss a step. In fact, Aryth barely registered that it was there; it was simply a part of him. After some time, he reached the edge of the ruins, finding a place where the pine trees were plentiful. Needles and cones littered the forest floor, and the scent mingled with some long-abandoned, faint smell…it reminded him of the young man he met in the Fae Forest. It reminded him of that word, Professor.

Something drew him to that little den in the woods, although he did not know what. The entrance was half-collapsed, grass roots dangling from the ceiling. And yet, inexplicably, he needed to know what was inside. The crow hopped down and waited outside as Aryth crawled into the hole. The floor inside this place was strewn with pine needles as well, but they were all dried and brown. His lips parted as he stared at the dirt walls, at the strange shelves of earth built into the sides… Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, stretching his limbs as far as they could go.

The faint aroma of mint lulled him into closing his eyes. He loved it here. He just didn’t know why.

After what could have been minutes or hours, the russet wolf emerged from the quiet den. Specks of dirt and broken, dead pine needles stuck to his fur, but the crow didn’t mind as it resumed its perch on the wolf’s back.

code by claerie

It is not often that Macallan affords himself a leave of absence from the college, but a brief historical jaunt was something he could always find time for. It was a weekend, and his classes would not resume again for a few days. So, he had taken the time to wander from the Mainlands to the Lowlands, spending time along the way to frequent local shops, to explore, and to really give each place its due. He was not the hurrying kind, and so when he arrived at the ruins, he was well-rested and eager to peruse the site of what used to be the college itself.

It was before he was born that the college had moved to Rionna, in the aftermath of the war that had been the culmination of a poisoned illness in Rionnach. Macallan spent much of his free hours dwelling on this issue, dredging up documents, taking down accounts from survivors - because there were survivors, many of them, still alive and well due to Fae magic. Yes, that pesky old Fae magic. That was a topic for another day, and only for certain company.

Macallan was here today to get a sense of what the college had been when it was in Melrose, and not Rionna. When he finally arrived, he was not disappointed. How could he be? There was a veritable treasure trove before him: a castle at war with the surrounding vegetation, overgrown gardens, dorms fallen into disrepair... Macallan had been here for a few hours now, and he kept finding new items of interest. One such item appeared very suddenly in his path. Macallan froze, alert and surprised, before he realized it was a wolf, dirty from exploration, and a crow upon his back. "Sorry," he said with a laugh, both to alert the male of his presence and as a segue, seeing as they were the only two there that he had seen. "I did not see you there. Were you, er...exploring? Giving the ruins a thorough look?" He nodded to the male's dirty coat. The stranger had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

""

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash

TO THE WOODS AND WATERS WILD

By the time Aryth emerged from the den—and from the unrelenting grasp of sensory memories in the recesses of his mind—he was no longer alone. Emerald eyes blinked slowly, registering the somewhat startled male in front of him. In his former life, he would have blushed to be discovered this way, caught unawares with twigs in his hair. Especially because the large wolf that faced him was particularly handsome. But Arythmetik was too distracted to be embarrassed. He should have shaken himself clean, but instead he merely took a step forward, both himself and the crow companion staring intently at the stranger.

“Exploring?” he asked gently. The voice that ushered from his throat was hollow, the way the wind whispers through crevices in stone or empty branches on an autumn night. “No,” he continued with unnerving certainty, “I know every inch of this place. I was born and raised in the College.”

Suddenly, Aryth closed his eyes, lowering his head as if in pain. No, these were the ruins of a College. He had never been here before…had he? That kind young man, Arthur, told him the College was moved to Rionna, that capital city. Yes, he knew that, but it didn’t feel…right. The crow’s talons dug into the wolf’s shoulder blades.

After a measured breath, Aryth glanced back up at the earthen male. He strained to meet the other’s granite eyes. “Forgive me, what did you say your name was?”

code by claerie

The stranger was remarkably composed for how incredibly dirty he was. “Exploring?” Macallan's brow twitched at the haunting rasp of the voice. This was...unexpected. "No. I know every inch of this place. I was born and raised in the College.” His eyes widened, and he let loose a small breath. "Really?" he exclaimed, feeling a rush of excitement. That meant this was more than a history tour - that meant this stranger had been affected by whatever strange magic, or science, had touched nearly all of them. To be born here meant that he was older than Macallan, but he did not look it, not by a day. His heart began to pound with exhilaration. "That is --"

Then the man lowered his head, as if in pain, and Macallan felt torn between his desire to step forward and offer assistance and his uncertainty that this was even real. Was this stranger just a mirage? What was happening? After a split second, his former desire outweighed the latter, and he stepped forward. "Are you alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. Alas, after a moment, it appeared to pass. “Forgive me, what did you say your name was?”

Macallan chuckled somewhat nervously. "I didn't," he said, still standing somewhat close to the man, eyeing both him and his corvid with a mixture of curiosity and caution. "Macallan Abernathy. I am a professor at the Co - at the new headquarters for the College, in Rionna." His eyes continued to scan the man's face and his body, trying to put the pieces together, but nothing fit. "Forgive me, but...Are you truly alright? Is there something I can do for you?" He was not sure what else to ask - and it was a miracle he asked that at all, with how he was about to burst at the seams with other questions.

table by ferus, image by ashon, bg from unsplash