𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 | 𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

11 | Land of Leaves

D-170

MOONLIGHT PERMEATED through the abundant growth of trees that loom overhead, birds swooping through the air in darkened blurs of colors, sending their shadows skimming over the grass. Verdant flowers dotted the grass that tickled her legs, fireflies flitting through the woodland and illuminating the night.

[Name] gaped at the scenery in awe, pushing past a twisted birch tree to enter a long, circular meadow devoid of trees. She ogled the picturesque landscape then, eyes flickering to the silhouette at the centre of it, in his hand, the wax of the candle dripped down his palm. She recognized him, the candlelight crackling as drops of rain threatened to thwart its light.

His familiar marigold eyes met hers in an instant, and he smiled as he carefully released the candle, allowing it to float seamlessly through the air. [Name] watched with interest as moths crowded around it, unbothered if they descended in flames. She knew of the poetic words spoken about moths to a flame; a sentiment that lingered in her head. But she couldn't afford to distract herself now, facing the man she had sought for weeks.

Inca was his name. A man of few words, Inca was most often found holding a candle in his hands as he wanders through meadows where belladonnas and other foreign flowers were rumored to grow. An arcane figure whose motives were partially unfathomable; a wanderer in candlelit forests.

"Inca," [Name] whispers, breathless.

The forest was a winding maze that looped around a small hill where a twisted tree sat at the midst, harboring rare flowers called Inca. The same name bestowed upon him, who was mythically rumored to be the guardian of the tree, for this forest was where he was most often to be found.

Inca smiles innocently, "You require my assistance?"

[Name] shakes her head briefly, ignoring the faintest rumbles of her growing hunger within her stomach. Wordlessly, she slips a floral garland between his fingers and deftly ambles past him, fixing her gaze upon the mesmerizing starry skies. The perpetual debacles between Hakan and Jameel have gotten further frequent, driving her to a state of constant irritation to a point she had run off. But that's not what bothered her.

Being a little ways away from the main, largest village within the Fire Nation in a dirt-specked town, [Name] pursued a way out for she openly disliked the idea of impoverished living. After all, the first bastion of royalty was their wealth; introduced and made in a luxurious life. The idea of bankruptcy was something she could not get used to, at least, not now. And besides, it's not the impoverished living conditions that troubled her.

"There is conflict between Hakan and Jameel," She admits, "And I wished to get away."

Inca chortles, disbelieving, "I can tell their arguments are not what bothers you."

[Name] glides her fingers along her arm, sucking in a sharp breath; she had discarded her worn mareli or seafaring clothes for a sleek, culturally-refined dress. She took to the habiliments of the Sand Village with great ease, the ordinary yet equally opulent outfit hugging at her figure; sewn to perfection.

Slowly, she has began to shed the eloquent formality that comes with being royalty. An air of casual informality now hovers around her, yet she still battles to keep her elegance that has engrained itself into the fabric of her mind.

"Does the lack of . . . richness truly irk you?" He inquired, almost snorting.

[Name] simply hums, resting her knees on the soft grass to pluck away at the Ruby crystalline flowers that litter the grounds. They appear glass-like gems, formed exclusively into roses, glittering under the waning moonlight.