Lumina Nightglow's Arc

Chapter 23 of 34

Lumina walked into the shadow of the tall trees. The glowing foxes moved beside her, their marked fur bright in the dim light. She meant to reach the wall of darkness quickly. But the forest she had made was strange now, and she did not know its paths. She stopped at a stream she did not recognize. A hundred years had changed everything. She wanted to know the forest again before she woke its heart. She wanted to see what had grown and who lived here now. So she chose to walk slowly instead of rushing. She let the foxes lead her. They took her past groves she had never seen. New folk peered from the trees, small and shy, born long after her sleep. They did not know her face. One old badger-like creature bowed low, then hurried away. Lumina felt like a stranger in her own home. Lenora found her by the stream. She looked exactly as she had a hundred years ago, small, with silver hair and a dress of living flowers. Her feet made no sound on the moss. "You slept a long time," Lenora said. She did not smile. "The forest learned to live without you." "I see that," Lumina said. "I don't know it anymore." Lenora tilted her head. "Then learn it again. But quickly. The heart is still asleep behind the wall." Lumina knelt by the water and touched it. Her emblem woke at her chest, a ring of gold and pink light spreading over her skin. She sent her senses out through the stream, into the roots, across the groves. She felt the new folk in their homes. She felt the healthy trees. And she felt the cold flat place behind the shadow, still and dark, its glow thinner than before. She rose. "I have seen enough," she said. "The forest is alive. But its heart is fading faster." Lenora nodded. "You waited too long to look. Every year the wall grew thicker." Lumina lifted her hand toward the dark trees ahead. Her wings spread wide behind her, huge now, shimmering in every color. She had wanted time to walk and remember. She saw now she had none. The forest had grown, but its center was dying while she wandered. "Then I stop walking," she said. "I go to the wall now." The foxes gathered close, ready. Lenora stepped back to let her pass. Lumina moved toward the shadow, faster this time, her light steady at her chest. She had wanted to greet her changed home. Instead she had learned it was slipping away. The wall of dark trees rose ahead, thicker than it had been a hundred years ago. Behind it, the heart waited, and its glow grew thinner with every hour she delayed.