Unfamiliar love

Nadi had finally accepted that her situation was no longer sustainable. She was dashing through the tall grass as fast as her legs would carry her, and yet the sound of the rabid wolves wasn’t fading into the distance. Her breathing was frantic, her body hot from the chase, and her sweat was cold. The field was too bare. She needed cover. Fortunately, it was just within sight, and soon her straight trajectory became a mad dash of zig-zagging through trees the way only a prey animal could do.

Nadi heard the sound of running water before seeing the river and used the last of her energy in a burst of speed. She was as careful as she could manage when skipping over the rocks to reach the other side, then found the tree with the biggest roots she could see and hid. The noise from the river was overbearing, but she still trusted she would be able to notice if the predators were getting closer. Nadi stayed there under those roots for close to an hour before feeling safe enough to get out and follow whatever path smelled the least like a wolf.

Her life had been madness for the last ten years or so. She had been forced to evade every manner of hunter in existence, from wolves that wanted her for her meat to humans that wanted her for her skin. Just her luck to be manifested in this plane as a prey animal, and a doe at that. It was exhausting. She needed a conduit, and she needed one fast. She couldn't afford to be picky anymore.

Oh, but how could she settle for anything less than perfection when her first and last conduit had set such a high standard? Annahí had been a wonder from the moment she was born, with a knack for conjuring that witches thrice her age struggled to grasp. Perfect in every way. She and Nadi had spent 237 incredible years at her side before the witch-finders had gotten to her. To this day, Nadi regrets fleeing.

But that was the past. Now, what she needed was to find whatever potential witch was still alive, bond with them, and finally not be so helpless anymore. That, or she would just live her last days as an ordinary animal and die an ordinary death.

The fact that she accepted her fate didn’t mean she would succeed at it. It took eleven days and two human hunters before she smelled the faintest whiff of magic in the air. From that, it was easy to trace the scent back to a humble house. More of a hovel, nested near the edge of the forest, a day's travel away from anywhere. There was a well, a small chicken coop, and a vegetable garden. Upon getting closer, Nadi noticed the animal hides stretched out and drying in the sun in front of the house. A trapper’s house. Just her luck.

Still, she needed to consider the possibility. She found a place with enough greenery and rocks to offer her some cover, and hoped the humans who lived at the house didn’t own a dog. She spent a few hours munching on some grass before the east skies turned pink, and she heard movement from the house. The sounds of voices, of wooden furniture being moved and cloth being ruffled, of people eating. A man walked out of the house carrying a long firearm, put on a pair of boots, and headed into the woods. The smell of magic didn’t follow him.

Thank the gods, Nadi thought. The likelihood of the smell of magic coming from that man was very low, but not non-existent. The woman who walked out of the house next was a little more promising, if a little old. She went about discarding waste from her home into a deep cesspit farther away, hauling water from the well, cleaning the porch, and tending to her vegetable garden. The smell of magic lingered on her, but not too strongly. That’s when a little girl walked out of the house on almost silent steps. She had curls like her father, and Nadi assumed she was blond, but couldn’t be certain because her vision was in black and white. Anyway, the girl’s eyes were dark, and she was blinking slowly in the way of the barely awake. Nadi would guess that she was older than five but younger than ten. But more importantly, she smelled strongly of magic. Not as strongly as Annahí had at that age, but better than nothing, and strong enough to sustain a bond.

So step one of identifying a potential witch had gone marvelously. Now came the true challenge. Nadi needed to convince the kid to bond with her, then do her best to train the little runt so that both of them would be safe for as long as possible. Nadi didn’t like her chances of finding another witch if this one died too prematurely.

The little girl walked toward her mother as the woman knelt by the garden. They spoke in quiet tones before the girl ran back to her house. She came out again moments later, properly dressed and with a wicker basket dangling from one hand.

“I’m going to collect the eggs now!” She shouted at her mother in an annoying voice.

“Alright,” the woman answered with a smile. “Be careful!”

The girl walked into the small coop and stayed there for a little while. Nadi could hear her talking to the hens as they clucked about.

For two days, Nadi watched, only retreating deeper into the woods to sleep, trusting that the area around the house of a hunter would be free of predators. Fortunately, the man only came back late in the evening, bringing with him a dead wild boar, and not taking any notice of Nadi. It was on the first day that Nadi learned the little girl’s name was Imira.

During the third day, Nadi felt safe enough to act. She knew Imira would be free in the afternoon to roam the edges of the forest as long as she remained within sight of the home, as her mother sat on the porch and did less physically taxing work, like sewing or cleaning vegetables. They would stay like that until right before the sun set, barely an hour before her father returned home.

She watched as that wisp of a girl crouched down near some shrubbery to pick little yellow flowers and put them inside her dress pockets. Approaching slowly, making sure to stay out of the mother’s line of sight, Nadi waited until Imira finally spotted her, and they stared at each other for a few seconds. When Nadi was sure that the girl wouldn’t run away or scream, she inched closer, bowing her head. Ever so tenderly, she touched the girl’s cheek with the tip of her snout, making Imira laugh softly, then gave her a tender lick on the tip of the nose. Imira giggled, then patted the side of Nadi's neck with one small hand while the other reached into a pocket to retrieve a small, hard piece of day-old bread, offering it to Nadi. Not her favorite dish, but in the name of diplomacy, Nadi accepted the offering.

“You are so pretty,” Imira said in her high-pitched voice. “I’m Imira.”

“And I’m Nadi,” Nadi answered into the girl's mind.

Imira’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open and she immediately got up to her feet, looking like she was about to run.

“You don’t need to be afraid!” Nadi rushed to reassure her. “I just wanted to be your friend.”

They stayed in a moment of tense silence as the girl seemed to ponder the information, before her round face became serious in a way that looked forced.

“Are you a witch or a devil trying to tempt me to sin?”

Of course, she was raised in one of those monotheistic religions, Nadi thought, because who isn’t these days?

“No, I’m not a witch or a devil. I'm just a spirit of the forest, I swear.”

Which was technically true. She had a spirit, and she normally lived in a forest.

Imira still wasn’t looking very trusting.

“So how can I hear you inside my head?” She asked.

“I can’t speak like a person, so I’m sending you my thoughts.”

“Can you hear my thoughts too, then?”

“No. I only hear what you tell me.”

The girl hummed before looking around, as if checking whether her mother was within shouting distance.

“So,” Imira started, “why are you speaking to me?”

“As I said, I wanted to be your friend. I’ve been alone for a long time.”

“Oh, alright then,” the girl smiled at her. One of her bottom teeth was missing. “I understand that. I don’t have many friends either. And they all live in the village, so I never see them.”

I don’t care.

“That’s really sad,” Nadi answered in a sweet voice. “If you want, I can stay close and we can-”

“Mira!” The mother called from the house, startling Nadi. “Time to come in!”

Imira gave her another uncertain look before dashing away. Nadi let out a sigh, turning away from the house.

And thus begins my torment.

From then on, she would see Imira every day. Nadi did her best to remain patient by virtue of having no other choice. After almost a week, Imira finally came near enough to have an actual conversation.

“Here,” the girl said, holding out a small piece of cheese. “This is my favorite.”

Imira stayed frozen as the doe slowly got closer, delicately eating the offering from her hand.

“Thank you,” Nadi said politely. “It is delicious.”

Maybe not as cured as I’d prefer, but good enough.

“You’re welcome.”

The silence that followed was very awkward, so Nadi decided to keep the conversation going.

“How old are you?” She asked.

“I’m twelve, soon to be thirteen years old!” She replied proudly.

Even older than I had guessed. She really is a runt.

“Oh, so you are a big girl! And so smart!”

“You think I’m smart?”

“Why, of course!” Nadi doubled down on her excitement. “When you met me, you were wary, because you should always be wary of strangers, but you also understood that I'm not dangerous and just wanted to be your friend. That’s because you are incredibly smart.”

Luckily, that made complete sense to the young girl. She patted Nadi’s head softly.

“Thank you. I think that you are smart too.”

You have no idea how smart I am, child.

Imira would spend every afternoon talking to Nadi, and she talked a lot. The content of her ramblings was often vague and unimportant, completely different from the conversations Nadi used to have with Annahí. Annahí had been incredibly well-spoken and articulate.

Still, Nadi suffered through it with poise. She was a little worried about what the parents would do if they found out that their little girl had been talking to a doe every day, but Nadi shouldn’t have worried. One late night, the parents were sitting alone on the porch, and she heard them talking amusedly about their daughter and her new imaginary friend. And now that Imira seemed to trust her, she just needed to find a way to convince the girl to bond with her. That was the hard part. A bonding pact demanded mutual trust, and the only thing Nadi currently trusted Imira to do was talk excessively. Nadi would have to get to know the girl.

During one of their meetings, Nadi guided the conversation a little. She interrupted Imira as the girl was telling yet another tale about one of her friends from the village.

“You seem to care a lot about your friends,” she started, and Imira nodded at her. “Would you say they are the most important thing to you?”

“Well, I think so. Actually, I think family is the most important thing to me. My mom, my dad, and my friends.”

“That’s very noble of you,” Nadi pandered. “So I bet you would do anything for them, right?”

“I would!” Here, Imira paused, looking at Nadi. “And for you too, now that we are friends.”

Great. So I trust that you would do anything for your family and friends. That ought to be good enough

Fortunately for Nadi, she didn’t even need to find a way to convince Imira to bond with her, because the universe provided one. On a bright morning in the middle of fall, Nadi realized that she could smell rain coming. And it was the kind of rain that would send all animals underground, topple a couple of trees, and could destroy vegetable gardens, wells, and chicken coops. Or at least that is what she would tell Imira. She predicted that the rain would hit the little farm early the next day. So, when the girl finished her chores and came running, Nadi didn’t give her a chance to speak first.

“Mira, I have to tell you something,” she made sure to sound serious and slightly worried, causing Imira to furrow her brows in response.

“What is it?”

“There is a storm coming. One strong enough to destroy your garden and your coop, and hurt your family.”

Imira’s eyes widened.

“But we’ve been praying for good weather! If something happens to our harvest now, we won’t have food for the winter!”

“I know, Mira. That’s why I’m telling you.”

“Maybe…” Imira stuttered. “Maybe someone at the village will be able to help us?”

Nadi shook her head mournfully.

“There is no time. The rain will probably arrive during the night.”

Imira looked at Nadi with a crestfallen expression, dark eyes swimming with tears. Nadi huffed and looked away before centering herself enough to continue her speech.

“I’m sorry that your prayers didn’t work, Mira,” she said. “But maybe… maybe I can help.”

“You can? How?”

“I’m a spirit of the forest, remember? I can use my power to protect your farm from the storm.”

The girl started to hop from one foot to the other, barely containing her excitement. She jumped forward and hugged Nadi tight, so tight, exactly like Annahí used to.

“You can? Really? Thank you so much!”

Nadi was standing stock-still, barely breathing. She blinked rapidly.

“Yes, but I need you to do something for me first, so that I have enough power to help you back.”

“Alright, what is it?”

Nadi’s first bonding ceremony had been performed during a summer solstice in the middle of a peaceful clearing. Annahí’s entire coven had been in attendance. Annahí herself had been wearing beautiful ceremonial robes of deep red color. Or maybe blue. Definitely not green, though. With golden details, for sure, not silver ones. Anyway, the brazier had been brand new and polished to a sheen. Annahí had been so nervous, and even though she had grown up knowing Nadi, it was still a big moment, very impactful for a fifteen… actually, sixteen-year-old girl.

Nadi’s second bonding ritual was being performed within throwing distance of both a chicken coop and a cesspit. Instead of a brazier, there was an iron cooking pot. And her soon-to-be conduit was wearing a tattered dress with dirt stains on it. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Now, the next thing you need to do,” Nadi was explaining, “is cut a little bit of your hair and a little bit of my fur and burn them together inside the pot.

Nadi watched as Imira did as she was told. Right as the girl dropped the bits of fur and hair into the fire, she continued to the next step.

“Now repeat after me: Mi prenas vian animon kiel mian, kaj mi’an kiel vian mi donas, Nadimara.”

She said it all slowly and clearly, so that Imira would have no trouble repeating it correctly, and as soon as that was done, Nadi said her part.

“Mi prenas vian animon kiel mian, kaj mi’an kiel vian mi donas, Imira.”

Immediately, the fire turned green and flared higher, making both of them flinch back in surprise.

“Is that normal?” Imira asked cautiously.

“Yes,” assured Nadi with a confidence she didn’t really have. “Everything is fine.”

Is it? She asked herself. Did the fire turn green during my bonding to Annahí? I don’t… I don’t remember.

Her uncertainty didn’t last long, though, because between one heartbeat and the next, Nadi could see colors again. And not only that, she could feel her connection to the material plane strengthen through Imira. Could feel her power find its way to affect the physical world she lived in. It worked.

In her euphoria about finally not being some helpless prey anymore, Nadi almost forgot about Imira. But she would never be able to forget about her, of course, because now Imira’s emotions were a shining beacon of light that Nadi could read like an open book. And the little girl was so worried. Trusted Nadi so much.

“It worked,” Nadi announced, looking at Imira, who did have dark blond hair and brown eyes. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll make sure you and your family are safe.”

Imira smiled her widest smile yet and hugged Nadi tightly again. She was soon called back by her mother, leaving Nadi to her thoughts.

I can’t believe I forgot about it.

Her bonding ceremony to Annahí had been the second most important day of Nadi’s life, surpassed only by the day of Annahí’s death. And yet, she couldn’t remember all of it. How could she betray her old friend like that a second time?

Nadi was distracted from her depressed musings by the distant sound of thunder. In reality, the rain probably wouldn’t be violent enough to topple trees and destroy hovels.

With the fantom warmth of Imira’s arms still around her, Nadi cast a spell of protection anyway. Just to be sure.