Chapter Seven: The Forest of White Dreams
Sleep claims Escanor eventually, although it is mixed with strange dreams about shadows and golden beasts. Then something wakes him, the cobwebs in his mind too thick to fully rouse, only aware of a noise outside the window and something warm and soft pressed against him. He must have rolled over, he thinks, when he realizes he is on his back. His hand reaches out and touches soft skin; confused, he instinctively wraps his fingers around it, wondering whose leg is in between his own.
There is a split second of realization before the world goes completely off its axis. He shouts as he is thrown from the bed, crashing with a loud "ouch!" as his head cracks against the wooden floor. A bundle lands directly on top of him, knocking into his midsection and pulling the wind from him; in a daze he looks up and down and sees Merlin pushing up against his chest, also blinking in confusion.
"What in the hell happened?" she says sleepily.
Escanor opens his mouth to answer as she shifts, quickly closing it again when he feels her body slide against his. Without a touch of embarrassment she sits up, straddling his lap, and gives a huge yawn, raising her arms in a stretch. His eyes look down, wide and worried as the hem of her shirt—rather, his shirt—lifts to reveal her enticing hips and smooth stomach, and (thanking all the angels and demons above and below) a thin strip of fabric between her thighs.
"See something you like?" Merlin teases.
Escanor's neck heats as he looks up at her furiously, remembering how she had said the same to him the night before. "You're on top of me," he snaps.
Her lips twist into a mocking smile, as if she can read his thoughts. Never once has she flirted with him, and his heart pounds wondering what she is thinking behind that smirk. He is only beyond grateful that she was wearing something underneath his shirt, and Escanor refuses to even look at the tiny part of him that was wondering what would it be like if she was not.
Before he can chuck her off of him, the door bangs open, startling them both. At the same time both heads whip around to see Meliodas standing with his hands on his hips and a cheeky grin on his face. "Enough of that, you two," he laughs. "We're making a pit stop. Last chance for any supplies until we get to Vaizel."
"So that's what tossed us out of bed," Merlin chuckles, climbing off of him.
Escanor sits up and glowers at Meliodas. "Where are we?" he asks.
"The Forest of White Dreams!" he declares. The door to the washroom clicks shut, and Escanor turns to see Merlin is gone. "Now you two lovebirds don't keep us waiting," Meliodas warns, easily avoiding the kick Escanor sends his way as he scurries out the door of the bedroom.
Clothes are changed, breakfast is eaten, and within the hour Escanor is stepping out of the front door and finding the tavern situated neatly just outside of a wood. The trees are tall and lush, the forest floor covered in thick, green moss: at least, what he can see of it. On top of all is a white mist that forces him to squint a bit to see more than a few feet ahead. The area is eerily quiet, his ears straining to hear the flap of a bird or the hoofs of a deer, but there is nothing but trees and mist.
"What are we doing here?" Escanor asks.
"Just getting some supplies," Merlin replies with a mysterious smile.
He rolls his eyes and watches as she speaks to Ban and Meliodas for a moment. He checks his belongings: the knife Merlin returned to him strapped to his waist, slingshot in his back pocket, dagger against his thigh. Not that the place looks like much, but the way the hair on his arms stands on end makes him more than wary.
"Escanor!" Meliodas catches his attention with a wave. "Careful out there. Need to keep your wits about you."
He winks as Escanor frowns. "Worry about yourself." Turning to Merlin, Escanor says, "Let's get going. Sooner out, sooner back."
"Fine by me."
She steps by him and heads towards the line of trees. Escanor follows as Meliodas calls a farewell, striking into the opposite direction with Ban and Gowther. On the steps of the tavern, Elizabeth waves to them cheerily. "I'll have dinner ready when you get back!" she calls.
He gives a bit of a wave back as they walk, and Escanor catches Merlin's smile. "What?" he asks.
"It's sweet how nice you are to the girl," Merlin comments.
Escanor clears his throat as heat rises to his cheeks. "She is a princess."
"Yes, but that's not why you are kind to her." He glances towards her from the corner of his eye and sees her doing the same. "It's sweet."
"What are we looking for?" he asks, desperate to change the subject.
"This forest is special," Merlin explains. "There are some plants that grow only here, that thrive on the mist. They can be useful for potions and ointments."
He does not reply, simply looking around as they walk. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly special to him: it is simply a wood after all. A bit of fog is nothing spectacular. "If you say so," he finally replies.
They walk in silence until the tavern is no longer visible, when Escanor finally says, "What did Meliodas mean that we must be careful? There is nothing here."
"There are many strange rumors about this wood." He looks at her skeptically, but her expression is devoid of any amusement. "People can disappear. Those that make it out are forever changed."
"Forever changed?" he frowns. "How so?"
"They say there are visions in the wood," she replies. "That the forest gives you living dreams, and those who are weak can never tell the difference between dream and reality again." She looks up at him with raised brows. "But it's probably all nonsense."
Giving a snort, Escanor says, "Don't tell me you believe in such things."
"Of course not," Merlin laughs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But there are strange things in the wood. Magical creatures hide here that cannot survive outside in Britannia. Best keep track of yourself and your things, or else you'll find ten years have gone by and you're naked as the day you were born. Provided you were ever once a babe, that is."
She laughs at her joke but Escanor only grumbles. "You don't make it easy to figure out what is truth and what is not," he complains.
"I was just teasing you," she sighs.
Escanor coughs to cover his embarrassment. "I know that," he insists. "What I don't understand is why you tease me at all."
Merlin weaves ahead of him, turning to walk backwards so she can grin up at him. "The answer to that is simple," she says mockingly. "You make it so terribly easy."
He makes a face, which in turn makes her laugh. Escanor tries to ignore her as he holds out an arm to help guide her through a tricky bit of the underbrush, where plenty of thick tree roots jut up from the ground and make the footing precarious. Merlin takes his arm as she continues to giggle, and finally he chuckles to himself . "And you make it terribly easy to see why you need a bodyguard," he teases back. "You can barely walk a meter without getting lost in your own thoughts."
Merlin stops in her tracks, forcing him to do the same. He turns with a frown and asks, "Are you all right?"
She stares up at him with wide eyes for a moment before approaching him carefully. "Escanor," she says a bit breathily, "come here and let me feel your forehead."
"Why?" he asks, but complies immediately.
Her hand is cool against his skin. "Because you made a joke," she answers evenly. "I was afraid you might be sick. Do you need to lay down?"
Escanor immediately straightens with a twisted expression as she sets off laughing again. "Very funny," he mumbles, turning to continue on their way.
She is smiling broadly as they walk, which draws his attention despite himself. In their time together, she had always been nothing but business, the only smiles offered were ones that were at best teasing and at worst sardonic. Yet she has seemed to change since they arrived at the tavern. They are talking more and arguing less, moving easily around one another, anticipating each other more. He thinks back to that morning how she had set the raspberry jam in front of his plate before he asked, and when Elizabeth served tea she directed the girl to put in just one sugar cube in his cup instead of two. It had surprised him, but in a good way.
Merlin's whole demeanor had slowly changed as well since their arrival. She had been laughing more, talking easily with the others, no longer looking over her shoulder or scolding him for little things. Escanor presumes it is being around her companions, although to him they are more trouble than they are worth, the ride to Vaizel aside. However he must admit that even when they were alone the night before, she was freer with not just her humor, but her touches as well. Her teasing is more coy than acerbic; Escanor would almost (almost, if he dared) call her… saucy.
He debates pointing this out, but decides her denial and any argument that would ensue as a result is not worth the bit ribbing he could get in on her. They continue on, weaving through the silver birch that extends in every direction. The forest floor is soft, Escanor's boots sinking a bit in the dirt and moss as they walk. He notices once more how strangely quiet it all is; no squirrels running, no birds calling, not even the hum of insects. All that exists besides their quiet footfalls is the thin white trunks that surround them and go on as far as he can see through the white haze.
The more they walk, the more Escanor begins to sense something is wrong. He looks up, unable to see the sky, or even the tops of the trees, and he wonders if it is a sunny day or not, if it is even still the morning. The fog is thicker now, and as Merlin skims around a fallen log he nearly trips himself as he tries to press his mind out into his surroundings. It is impossible without his power, yet he feels something—as if there are eyes watching.
"Merlin," he says, "do you feel that?"
"Feel what?" she asks.
Suddenly something strikes his face, a sharp slice across his cheek, and he shouts, "Ouch!"
"What is it?" Merlin asks, peering back at him as he raises his fingers.
They come away with a bit of red, and he frowns. "Why am I bleeding?"
Whispered giggles surround them, and he turns, grabbing Merlin by the arm and yanking her to his side. His knife is out in a flash as he scans the mist, but he cannot detect any movements. "Who is there?" he calls. "Who are you?"
"Who is there? Who are you?" a voice calls back. It is shrill and sharp and nearly makes him drop his weapon in surprise. Then more laughter follows, and he guesses there are a dozen of them, whoever or whatever they are.
"Hey!" he shouts. "Show yourselves!"
"Hey! Show yourselves!"
His agitation is only increased when Merlin giggles next to him. "What are they?" he whispers to her.
"What are they?" the voices whisper back.
Merlin covers her mouth with her hand. "I told you the forest was special."
Escanor presses his lips into a thin line, but then realizes the voices did not echo her. "Wait a minute!"
"Wait a minute!"
"Merlin—"
"Merlin—"
"What is going on?"
"What is going on?"
"Would you all be QUIET!?" he roars, and the voices shout back, "Would you all be QUIET?!"
Merlin's shoulders are shaking by now, her face a bit red as she struggles to hold back her laughter. Escanor realizes he is still holding her arm, so he releases her and scowls. "What is this?" he hisses.
The voices echo him again and he grits his teeth. Merlin smothers another laugh and pulls her orb from the bag that hangs at her waist, sweeping her hand over and peering inside. "It seems as though there are creatures in the fog," she announces a moment later.
"I noticed," he mutters, "but what are they?"
"I noticed, but what are they?"
His eyes go wide, half pleading and half agitated, but she ignores him and turns to look around. "Can you come out?" she calls. "We won't hurt you."
There is a sound similar to tittering followed by a brief flash of light. "Did you see that?" he whispers.
"Did you see that?"
Merlin nods. "Can I see you?" she asks the mist. "If you are who I think you are, you can read my heart and know I mean you no harm."
The voices cease entirely, leaving them in the vacuum of sound once again. Escanor clears his throat as a test, but the echo does not come. For the umpteenth time he wishes he had his magic so he could sense what was out there too. He glances at her, and she raises her brows and nods at his hand; Escanor looks down and sees his knife, shooting her a look as he sheaths it on his hip.
The fog dissipates, and he blinks in shock. They are surrounded by the white birch, the mist having receded behind the trunks closest to them; in its wake are dozens of tiny lights. He peers carefully, leaning in closer to one directly in front of him, and his mouth drops open as the light does the same. Once they are nose to nose, Escanor realizes it is a person—well, a person about four inches high with buzzing wings and emitting a soft yellow glow.
"What is it?" he whispers.
"What is it?" the thing whispers back.
"Fairies," Merlin says, her voice shining with delight. "Oh Escanor, look at them!"
Instead, he turns to look at her. Merlin is smiling again, her eyes wide with discovery, and he bites back a laugh at seeing her so amazed. She raises a hand, pointing a finger outward, and one of the fairies lands on it delicately. Merlin nods her head, and the fairy does in turn; then the others begin to swarm. For a moment he steps forward, ready to shoo them away in case they are dangerous. But then it registers that they are examining her just as closely as she examines them, carefully lifting her hair and brushing her cheek and gaping at the large bronze buttons of her waistcoat.
"They are so beautiful," she breathes as she turns and smiles at him. Her face is lit with the light from the fairies, shades of yellow and green and pink dancing on her features, and he cannot help but smile back when one gives her a kiss on the cheek.
"They are… interesting," he agrees. When the fairies echo him once again, he huffs and folds his arms. "Why do they only do that to me?"
"Why do they only do that to me?"
"I'm not sure," she asks. Then she gives one of her familiar smirks. "Why don't you ask them?"
"Ask them," he mutters, and the fairies mutter, "Ask them."
"Fine!" he shouts. "Why do you feel the need to mock me?"
"Why do you mock me? Why do you mock me?"
The fairies spin and swarm him now: but instead of the gentle caresses and curious kisses, they begin to pull at his mustache, gripping the bushy hair hard and giving a sharp tug. "Ouch!" he cries, and they call back, "Ouch!" as others go for the braids in his hair, his collar, his lips, even his eyebrow. When one tosses a small rock at him, which he barely dodges, Escanor waves his hands frantically, brushing them away. "All right, that's quite enough!"
"All right, that's quite enough!"
"Merlin, do something."
"Merlin, do something."
She laughs and shakes her head. "You are all so delightful," she exclaims. Lifting a finger, another fairy settles on it and gives her a little bow. "You are beautiful," Merlin says softly.
The fairy shuffles a bit, as if it is suddenly coy. "Would you help me?" she asks.
It answers with an eager nod. Escanor watches closely, twitching his mustache as a fairy creeps up and gives it a little tug before fluttering away. "I'm looking for a plant," Merlin continues. "It has a green stem and white petals, with tiny yellow buds inside." She tilts her head a bit at the fairy. "You are quite a clever bunch to hide your treasures among the mist."
The fairies twitter again, and she giggles. He heaves a sigh as he watches, annoyed at how easily she is getting on with them. "Will you show me?" she asks.
At once the fairies are up and darting into the fog. "Come on, Escanor!" she calls, hurrying after them.
"Wait!" he shouts, but Merlin does not heed him. With an annoyed growl he chases her, following her laughter and the deep red of her skirt slipping through the white. "Merlin!"
"I'm right here, Escanor!" she calls.
He follows the voice, but she does not appear. "Merlin?" he calls. He takes a few steps through the mist, peering around them. The sounds of the fairies are gone, and the mist is rolling back in to surround him. "Merlin! Where did you go?"
There is only silence in answer. "Merlin!"
He begins to run, but then pulls quickly up short. There is no telling where she is, and if he barrels into the fog without a plan then he is liable to get completely lost. Swinging around, Escanor tries to see the way they came, but the birch all looks the same.
Sweat breaks out on his brow as his eyes dart back and forth, scanning the area. Still there is no sound, just the heavy quiet as thick and suffocating as the mist. Somehow the white has grown more concentrated, the air dense with it, making it impossible to see more than a few yards ahead. As a precaution Escanor pulls out his knife and holds it in a defensive position. Since he cannot see his surroundings, Escanor decides to look down, and begins to search the ground for any sign of their footprints.
Yet there is nothing, even as he strains to listen, even as he pushes his senses outward knowing it is useless. If he had his power, he would be able to anticipate an enemy, his strength and magic growing with or without the direct sunlight. Now he must rely on his own wits, but as the moments tick by in absolute stillness, the pit in his stomach grows.
"Merlin!" he hisses. "Merlin, are you here?"
"Escanor?"
He freezes, eyes wide with shock, a lump stuck in his throat. His skin goes flush as he begins to tremble, the deep voice that once terrified him—a voice he hears in his dreams now—taking his breath away. Escanor wills himself to turn around, but it is several heartbeats before he gathers the courage to do so and face the owner of the voice.
When he finally turns, the king stands just a handful of yards away. He is dressed in his hunting clothes, the dark green of his tunic visible under the heavy pelt that serves as a cloak. He is holding a bow, pulling the string taut with an arrow pointed directly at Escanor.
The two men stare at one another before Escanor whispers, "Father?"
"Don't call me that." The king raises the point from hovering over his midsection to being directed at his heart. "What are you doing here?" he demands.
"What am I doing here?" Escanor cries. "You're dead!"
The king does not respond, so Escanor takes a moment to try and calm the rising panic in his mind. All of Castellio is gone, all of his family… dead and gone at least a decade now. His father is dead, the king is dead, and yet here he stands, an arrow poised to strike Escanor and vengeance in his eyes.