Page 3 of The Withering Wood

Ice so cold it burned shuddered through Cerise’s arm, freezing her movement once more and evaporating the red in her vision.

Eirwen planted herself in front of the bear, arms spread out and fingers tipped with frost, ready to cripple Cerise again.

“I said wait, Cerise. It won’t hurt us.”

Cerise stared at her sister, Eirwen’s thin and pale form blocking the bear from Beloved’s point. She could be a bit airheaded sometimes, and yes, she was a little too tender to animals, but even this was a stretch. “That’s a bear, Eirwen.”

“I know what it is. I let it in.”

“You…what?”

“I let it in. It’s hurt.”

“Has Nydaemiel addled your mind? That’s even more reason to not let it in.”

“Please, Cerise, wait. Listen to me.” Eirwen straightened, stepping to the side of the bear, the snow at her fingertips dripping to the floor as it melted. She ran a hand over the bear’s pelt, from its head down its hunched shoulders, and she crouched to pick up a paw.

The bear simply sat there. It didn’t attack. Growl. Bare its teeth.

When it met Cerise’s gaze, it whined, a high-pitched, pathetic sound, and it lowered its head further, at once slouching and submitting. Cerise’s nose and lip curled. This creature, despite how it had somehow survived four years in this wintry nightmare, seemed afraid of Cerise.

“See, look,” Eirwen said, spreading out the bear’s toes. “It doesn’t have claws.”

Cerise glanced at the bear’s paw which was as big as her face. Where there should have been sharp claws that could shear her flesh clean off, there were only sad, flat stubs.

“Great, no claws. Just teeth as long as our fingers and hundreds of pounds that could crush us to death.”

“You wouldn’t bite us, would you?” Eirwen asked.

The bear folded to the ground and placed its clawless front paws over its snout, as if agreeing with Eirwen.

“See, I’m telling you, Cerise, it’s smart. This isn’t just any bear. What if it’s one of the Celestials come to help us?”

The bear stared at her with uncanny pink eyes, its gaze too intent, too focused. Unease dripped through her. Whatever it was, she wanted to stab it with Beloved more than ever.

“It could be Merathel,” Eirwen added. “Legends say he’d take the form of a bear when visiting from his mountain throne.”

“What purpose would he have for visiting now, after all this time?”

“An offering of hope?”

Cerise scoffed. “The Celestials don’t care for our survival. Why would they bother providing us with such a meager thing as hope?”

“It is not for us to question Celestial Will.”

Round and round they went, ever in the same circles. Even after all this time, even after multitudes of wrongs, Eirwen’s faith in the Celestials never waned. Convinced that they hid behind the purple skies, scheming and hoarding power until they were strong enough to restore the world. Perhaps that’s what she needed to believe, to keep the swollen part of her heart protected. That the divine father who abandoned her had some greater plan. Hadn’t truly left her.

Cerise thought it was a load of horseshit. The Celestials hid in their heavenly plane, waiting for the world to disintegrate, when they could start anew.

But Cerise’s muscles ached, her stomach grumbled, and the pressure in the center of her knee built like water against a dam, ready to burst stability out from under her.

The bear remained still, gazing at her with eerily intelligent, patient eyes. She’d seen that strange shade before. But where?

Cerise clicked her teeth and leaned into Beloved for support. The creature appeared to be no threat. Yet if it was as intelligent as it appeared, it’d wait until they let their guard down to tear out their throats.

Her leg shook, ready to give out from beneath her. She couldn’t fight it in this condition. Better to rest and keep an eye on it, then be ready to kill it if need be.

She looked to the window, frost clutching the corners of glass in spindly webs, dots of fluffy snow cascading in a gentle breeze as the lavender sky faded to violet. A pang of pity swept through Cerise, imagining sending the seemingly docile bear out into the cold night.