It took Varian over a week to reach the Haderon Forest. The travel itself wasn't difficult; it was keeping out of eyesight that was harder than he'd realized. It was nearing the autumn season, which meant people were out harvesting in the fields and hunting in the brush. Varian wouldn't have been so concerned with being identified further south, but he'd seen the guards in the streets, noticed the bounties already being posted in corners and by lamp posts. If no one knew him before, they would know him now. It didn't help that the infernal blue streak in his hair only made him more identifiable, not to mention the fact everyone would know he was being accompanied by a racoon.
Dangerous as it was to pass through a town or village, Varian kept to the outskirts, camping under craggy recesses and sleeping behind jagged waterfalls. He followed the riverways, searching for good rocks to file into arrowheads and failing miserably to net any fish. Rudiger would pout occasionally, to which he would tell the racoon that he was a born scavenger and could find his own food…then feed Rudiger anyway with whatever was left from his snares. All the while, Varian's paranoia kept him from truly resting easy. He felt like he was constantly looking over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was tracking him. Just to be safe, he tried to wander in his path a little, winding through dense underbrush and stepping through places where he was less likely to leave tracks. He was almost too absorbed in keeping himself hidden to realize that he had finally reached the edge of the Haderon Forest.
"They say it's cursed," Varian told Rudiger as he studied the grey, knotted trees. Their silvery leaves danced in the gentle breeze, a few drifting loose and twirling to the lush ground. Varian picked up a leaf and tucked it into his bag. "Too bad. I don't believe in curses." He strode forward, pushing branches out of his way. He glanced back to see that Rudiger hadn't moved. "Rudiger?" He noticed the racoon shivering, his fur standing up on end, his tail tucked under his legs. "You alright?"
Rudiger actually shook his head, and he took a step backwards. His eyes flitted back and forth, and his teeth began to chatter.
Varian sighed and stepped back out from the trees. He crouched down by his little friend and reached to stroke the creature's back. "It's okay to be scared, Rudiger. I know this hasn't been easy, but we're almost there. I'm still here, and I won't let anything happen to you." He picked up the racoon and tucked him into his arms. "Besides, you're the one who can turn into a giant animal. If anybody should be scared, it's me, and you don't see me running away." He ducked back into the trees, stray sprigs snagging on his coat sleeves. His boots crunched on older leaves and fallen twigs until the forest spread out before him. It was dark beneath the rustling canopy; it was midday, but so little light made it feel like dusk. Varian found himself opening his eyes wider as his vision adjusted, keeping Rudiger close as he wound his way past tall oaks the size of temple pillars.
"Hold on," Varian muttered, settling Rudiger into the crook of one arm. The creature clung to him as he pulled out the map and squinted to read it. "Let's see…if north is…Where is north?" He sat down on a tree root and set the map aside, digging through his bag to find his compass. Varian had made his own compass a long time ago, and it had never failed him. He'd even built a barium gauge into it to measure atmospheric pressure. But as he pulled it out to find north, he froze when he saw the needles. They were spinning and wobbling every which way. Varian shook it once, twice, to no effect. The needles refused to stay still, and the barium meter kept fluctuating to extremes. "That's impossible," he wondered aloud. "It shouldn't be doing that!" His disbelief slowly turned into anxiety. If he couldn't find north in this place, then the map was as good as useless.
He noticed Rudiger staring at him; the racoon's tail had tucked under his legs again. "So what?" Varian said with a forced smile as he put the map and compass away. "As long as we can keep track of the sun, we can find our way through this place just fine!" He stood up and gazed at the canopy overhead, trying to discern the sun's location in the sky. But the foliage was too dense; he could barely make out any sunlight from any direction. "It's fine," he said with less confidence. "It's…Well, the Crimson Caster's got to be around here somewhere. Dad's notes imply he has some degree of magical magnitude." He sighed and picked Rudiger up again, continuing on through the dense terrain. "Whatever that means, there's a possibility he already knows we're here. I mean, he's probably lived here longer than we've been alive, which means he knows this place like the back of his hand." What Varian didn't mention aloud was that it also meant that the Crimson Caster could easily avoid anyone trying to find him. But if someone could live in this forest, then someone could learn to navigate it. And Varian was a fast learner.
Time stretched on; he wasn't certain how much had passed since he and Rudiger had entered the forest, but he knew that at least four hours had gone by. He did manage to find a bubbling spring beneath a crag, which he and Rudiger rested by as he tried once more to find his bearings. There was one pattern he had noticed: the trees' roots grew in a similar direction to each other, suggesting the forest grew on a gradual slope. A slope meant water, most likely a river. Varian pulled the map out again and searched for a water line. Sure enough, there was a river that ran south of the forest, which meant that Varian was heading east. It still didn't tell him exactly where he was, but at least he wasn't walking around in circles.
"It's going to be dark soon," he said to Rudiger. "Let's hope we find – " He stopped when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. "Rudiger, get behind me," he ordered, swiping his father's bow off his back and nocking an arrow to the drawstring. The racoon scrambled behind his leg as a grey and black snake emerged from under a rock, its blue tongue flicking in and out of its fanged mouth. Varian recognized it as a Coronan Greyback. They weren't venomous, but they had a fast, wicked bite and often carried diseases. Varian aimed carefully and slowly started to back away. "That's right," he said as the snake froze in place. "I hear Greybacks are good eating, so let's all just - !"
He wasn't able to finish the sentence because he was suddenly falling backwards. His foot had found no purchase behind him, and his own weight hauled him down. The arrow went flying upwards as he flailed his arms, tumbling head over feet down a rocky hill he didn't even realize had been there. He heard Rudiger give a sharp cry.
As Varian finally rolled to a stop, his ears were ringing. He was sore in several places, and he was pretty sure his shin was bruised, but thankfully, nothing was broken. He winced and groaned as he pushed himself off the ground and brushed loose dirt and grass off his clothes. He double-checked his belongings; everything was miraculously still in place, except for his bow. He found it a few feet away, and he quickly retrieved it as Rudiger bounded down the hill after him.
"I'm fine," Varian assured his friend as the racoon pawed worriedly at his boot. "I'll live. Just a few scrapes." He peered at their new surroundings, then his eyes opened wide at the sight of a wide clearing ahead. "Hey," he said. "Hey, I – I think this may be it."
He hiked through the last few stretches of forest, emerging in a small meadow filled with clover and violets. There, in the middle of the meadow, was a log cabin with a clay brick chimney and rough-cut eaves. There was no path to the door, but Varian could see a single window, blocked out by a curtain from inside.
Varian felt a grin spread across his dirt-streaked face. He could hardly believe it; he'd found it! He slung his bow over his shoulder and made his way purposefully to the front door. He glanced around as he did so; even though he was certain no one had followed him, he had to be absolutely sure. When he saw no one, he climbed a handful of worn stone steps to the cabin porch. The old wood creaked under his feet, and he winced at the sound. He didn't realize how silent this place was, and he could have sworn he heard a gasp from inside. Nervous apprehension set his heart beating fast, and he hesitated before knocking on the door.
Then he remembered why he was here. He couldn't afford to be afraid. Steeling his resolve, he bunched his fist and rapped his knuckles three times.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the curtain in the window flashed open just enough for Varian to see an eye peek out at him. It was an orange eye, vivid, and it stared at him in alarm.
"Uh, hi!" Varian raised his hand in greeting. "Excuse me, I'm looking for the Crimson – "
The eye disappeared, the curtain tugged swiftly back into place.
" – Caster," Varian finished dryly, his hand wilting. He sighed. "Look, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk to you. You are the Crimson Caster, aren't you? Or is there another cabin in the middle of a cursed forest I should be looking for?"
Dead silence filled the air. Then, from the other side of the door, he heard a very small, very feminine voice. "How do you that name?" the voice asked.
Varian wondered if his ears had been warped by the strangeness of this place; he could almost swear it sounded like a very nervous, frightened girl. "Look," he tried again. "Is the Crimson Caster here or not?" When the voice on the other side didn't answer, he sighed again, sharply this time. "Listen, I've come a long way, and I…I could really use his help. Just, please tell me he's here."
Nothing.
Varian felt the urge to break the door down, but if the Crimson Caster was here, it probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. He felt anger and frustration well up inside his chest, and he tried to keep his breathing steady as he waved his hand at the door. "Fine," he exhaled. "I guess I'll just camp out here and wait until he gets back, or he finally decides to come out and face me instead of hiding like a coward."
"Wait," the voice said as he turned. Varian paused on the step, then felt his heart jump into his throat as he heard the door latch click open. The orange eye from the window reappeared, blinking once at him beneath a thin, creased eyebrow. "The Crimson Caster isn't here," the voice admitted so softly, Varian almost couldn't hear it.
Varian turned to face the door again. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he insisted.
Something shot out through the door, tumbling through Varian's legs. It was a hare, with long ears and giant feet, loping past Varian and out into the meadow. Suddenly the door flew open, and a girl with black hair and a terrified expression fell out into view. "Killy!" she called out, reaching in the direction the hare had run in.
The hare bounded back and began to sniff at Varian's boot, pawing curiously at the cuff. Rudiger jumped down from Varian's shoulder and gave the hare a surprisingly vicious snarl.
Varian heard the girl gasp, and she scooped the hare quickly into her arms. "Rudiger," Varian snapped, hoisting the racoon off the ground by the nape of his neck. He brought him to eye-level. "No. Sorry about that," he apologized sheepishly to the girl, who had shrunk back into the doorway. "He just gets a little overprotective, I guess."
But the girl didn't seem concerned with Rudiger's behavior anymore. "So strange," she whispered to the hare. "You don't usually like strangers." She looked up at Varian, then seemed to realize she had stepped outside. She reached for the door and closed it to a crack once more, staring at him with her orange eye.
Varian raised his eyebrows. "So," he said slowly, "I don't suppose you're going to answer my question? You know, about the Crimson Caster?"
He heard the girl give a deep breath. "Have a seat in the garden," she told him in that quiet voice. "Please. I'll be out in just a moment."
"Garden, what garden?" Varian whispered under his breath when the door closed. He set Rudiger on his shoulder once more and took a few cautious steps around the outside of the cabin. A rough, makeshift gate peeked out at him from around the corner, and he shrugged to himself as he stepped through it into a modest, but very plentiful, garden. Varian noticed plants and vegetables growing both in and out of season, as well as a tree he didn't recognize. He tiptoed carefully towards a rickety wood bench by the tree, his feet brushing purple blossoms and tendrils of silver rosemary. He sat down slowly, wary of the bench's unstable structure. When it seemed to hold his weight well enough, he relaxed and felt Rudiger climb down into his lap. "So, this wasn't what I expected," he admitted in a low voice, stroking the racoon's soft ears. He peered across the garden. "Is that a lithops? I thought those things were from across seas!" He observed a few more plants out loud, reciting alchemical potentials for each one. "That one's good for making lock acid, although I'd prefer to use raw…"
He trailed off when the girl appeared around the corner. Out in the open, he could see that she was about his age. She had a petite face, and her hair hung down over the side of her face, tied off over her shoulder. She wore a simple beige dress, a plaid apron, and a pair of worn, black slippers. She started to wring her hands, and she seemed to refuse to look directly at him. Varian waited almost an entire minute before she finally spoke. "The Crimson Caster's not here," she mumbled.
To his credit, Varian gave a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I got that. Where is he, then?"
The girl's face went red. "I don't know where she is."
Varian processed that for a moment. "She?"
The girl nodded.
"And you don't know where she is?"
The girl shook her head.
"You don't talk much, do you?"
Another shake.
Varian sighed, long and loud. "How long has she been gone, exactly?"
"Seven years," the girl whispered.
Varian's jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, seven years? Like, years years? Eighty-four months, years?"
The girl's hands switched from wringing themselves to wringing her apron. She nodded, distressed.
Varian made exaggerated motions with his head, making a point of taking in the surrounding area. "You're all alone?"
The girl's eye snapped to him then, and she inhaled sharply. It was answer enough. No wonder she was so apprehensive.
Varian held up a defensive hand. "Relax," he said sincerely. "I don't mean anything by it. I'm just trying to understand. So, what, she's your mother, then?"
The girl nodded slowly.
"Where's your dad?"
The girl said nothing. She didn't need to. Varian could feel the absence in the air. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "If I knew where to find her, then…" She forced her hands to stop fidgeting and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry," she apologized again. "But I can't help you."
Varian felt his face grow hard, and he tore his gaze away. He'd heard those words before and given up too easily. He wasn't going to give up this time. "Do you know where we can start looking?" he asked firmly.
The girl blinked. "I…What do you need my mother for?" she suddenly asked.
"I need her help," Varian answered.
"What sort of help?"
Varian ran a hand through his hair. He opened his bag and pulled out his father's map. "My dad's in trouble," he said through gritted teeth. He licked his lips, then held out the map for her to take. "I've already done what I can, and…everything I do only seems to make things worse. I've tried asking others for help, and no one can. Then I found this. It's how I found this place."
The girl took the map and gingerly unfolded it. Varian watched her eye dart back and forth, tracing the path he'd taken, reading the notes his father had scribbled. Her brow furrowed for an instant. Then her face widened with shock, and she gasped. She clutched the map to her chest, her expression paling until it was almost transparent.
Varian nearly leapt to his feet. "What, what is it?" he demanded.
The girl stood there, frozen. "Nothing," she said, louder than he'd heard her speak so far. She gave him a very long, nebulous look. "Nothing," she said again, her voice soft once more. She sighed shakily, and her shoulders fell back down. She brought the map back into view and spread it out on the ground for him to see. She knelt by it and pointed to the mark in the corner, the same mark that the map shared with Varian's father's trunk. "Do you know what this symbol means?"
Varian shook his head. "Do you?"
Disappointingly, the girl mirrored his head shake. "No. But I've seen it before."
"You have?!"
The girl nodded, looking up at him. "It's on the last page my mother wrote in her journal, before she…" She stood, rolling the map up. She seemed to be thinking long and hard about something. Varian waited, trying not to look too agitated. "Come inside," the girl finally said.