Though Leah hadn’t yet entered the clearing, the deep, commanding voice issuing the celebratory speech on this the week of Declathean’s crowning reverberated across the forest around her, willing the Pebble on leave to continue on, so she could see her only family again, after an entire year and a half of separation. A contented sigh left her mouth. She was home again. Finally. The Mountain was great, and it had it’s own wonderful trees both ancient and young, but there was something about the Continent Kedetharuxanthe that revitalized her with every step inward. That spoke to her very Identity. She was a Ranger, and long before that, one of its children, so she knew that a huge chunk of the reason was utmost definitely bias. But she didn’t care. The Forest Continent was hers again and she was looking forward to a full week of not worrying about falling off of a slumbering Sky-Ship.

  “Now, I wasn’t around back then. During the Age of the Unnamed System. So I do not know the man. Our first King. Untold millennia and we still talk about him. And some of it may be lies. But the forest still chose Declathean--” Qiathumariel continued to speak. “We do not celebrate just him. We celebrate the choice as well.”

  She could feel it. The presence of a crowd close to her, where there were none the hours previous as she’d journeyed from the Shore Jukuneraiathe. Her people. Walking out of the cover of tree and shadow, the hem of Leah’s green cloak swept at the dirt-stone of the pathway she’d opted out of traveling on in favor of stealth. Her eyes found the signpost next to the road that curved up ahead. ‘Village Lavinthe- Home of Declathean.’ And of every single one of his successors ever since, with exception of a few.

  “If you can’t honor the man. Honor what he represents!”

  A purple leaf fell on her uncovered head, brushing at the Ranger’s face on its way down. She walked past it, and the signpost—which beeped as she passed it—officially entering her village of a thousand clearings. The [forest.queen] would know she had arrived. So would her Pocket Systems, and her Royal Rangers. Apricot and Qitha had already known she was on her way. She expected an ambush from none of them, but she searched for threats either way, like Max had taught her. A cheer from somewhere up a few kilometers. The Elder Clearing. Her grandfather had probably finished his speech.

  She reached the curve, and the tall wide tree just beyond it. A desire to walk behind it, to go back into cover, nudged at her but she turned her head instead, toward the open space that lay past the pathway. She kept walking the dirt-stone, till she was free. Till she could breathe again. Short, green grass took over from the forest canopy. The Sky, and its moon, and its stars, were visible again, helping the boundary trees’ glowleaves light the glade and the buildings—houses, shops and the village hall—standing on it.

  Music flitted in the air. The dancing had just began, and she was tired from the long trek. Had hoped to have arrived before then; meet her parents at home, instead of at the Elder. And so, she stood at a manypaths. To her right lay a stone walkway that would spirit her through a many clearing until she reached the one containing her childhood home, and straight ahead, on the other side of the main glade stood another walkway that would lead to Apri and Qitha, and the Forest Queen, and him, not to mention all the other inhabitants of the Declathean Forest’s Capital Village. They would want to talk about everything regarding the Communion. Would want to know if she’d met the [world.king] yet. Would want her to dance with them, and be merry, as one among the forest-folk was want to do. But she was exhausted.

  “I would choose sleep if I were you, to be honest!” A voice from behind her said.

  Turning in an instant, Leah inspected the tree cover, backing away toward the buildings as she did. “Step out into the glow, or I’ll give you something really honest to think about.”

  “Ho, there, ranger,” the voice came left of the pathway, but a man walked out of portion to its right.

  [Sense.Distortion]. A rare skill only a few on the forest continent possessed, one of them a resident of the village. Him. His skin was as muted silver as she remembered, but a few of his attributes had changed about him in the five years that had gone by since they’d seen each other last, one of them always arriving at their home while the other was overseas or half a continent away. For one, his dark green hair was longer, braided all the way down to his waist. For the other, he now wore a golden cloak with white along the edges. Daruth’Lavinius, [forest.prince] of the Forest Declathean, one among the Silver-Nymphs of the Deep-Forest, son of Lavinia, and the Chereteshian’s childhood bully, had become a Royal Ranger.

  Drydan’s Piss!

  “Bet you’re bellowing out a curse in your head right about now,” the slumbering fool spun around slowly, holding out the sashes of his cloak when he was done and bowing down. “Is the Pebble impressed?”

  “You slumbering sellout!” she walked toward him, clenching her arm into a fist.

  The Prince raised his arms, backing a step, leaning away his head. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” He pointed a finger. “I should fine you for that.”

  “Go ahead and try, my liege.”

  “Maybe a night in a cell, will do. Not in the Declathean Ranger’s tower, but the Palace’s. I actually have access to them, now,” he looked to the moons and stars, gesturing as he spoke. “For I am now a Crown-Cloak. One of Lavinia’s very own. A Royal Ranger.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “You really like the sound of your own voice, don’t you?”

  “I seem to remember you enjoying it too-- Ow!” She punched him in the chest.

  She gazed around the clearing, and the boundary trees. They were alone. “What in Vethengi’s Chalice was that for?”

  “I told you not to tell anyone.”

  “I didn’t!”

  “Keep it that way!”

  “People are more likely to figure it out if you keep yelling,” he pointed out.

  You’re yelling too! She wanted to yell out but sighed instead. A yawn engulfed her. She started walking toward the walk-way leading home. The people could wait till the next day. Now, she just wanted her bed.

  “What. No farewells for your fellow in gold?” He said, standing in place.

  “You’re not my fellow. And farewells are for real rangers.”

  “Still calling me a Gegeba’Nasisi, huh? While you learn and teach in the most powerful school in the entire planet? While you’re on track to work directly for the Slumbering World King?”

  Her feet stopped and she turned. “Still jealous I got in and you didn’t, my liege?”

  “More Sellout behavior than mine, is all,” he said, throwing a stone into the trees. “And I fell out of love with the world outside this continent a long time ago.”

  A part of her grew dismayed by that. Did that include her, she wanted to ask. But a far more daunting thought took her over. When had she started viewing herself as a part of the outer world. As a separate entity from her nation’s people. Her village’s people. Sure, she’d spent more of her life in the Communion than in the Forest Continent, but the latter was still her home. Wasn’t it?

  “Don’t you study at the Zethewa’Verexium?”

  “No. Didn’t your grandparents tell you?”

  “Why would I ask them about you, Lavi?”

  “They talk to you a lot, at least that’s what they tell me. So, I just figured that at some point, you would at the very least inquire, but I see now, where I went wrong,” He said. “I graduated.”

  “You graduated?”

  “I graduated. Two years ago, and counting.”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Won’t get [Knighted] by the World-King anytime soon, though. Or make people think I’m a God carved by the Mother herself. That’s what Pebbles who visited our school thought when I asked them about you. Congratulations on that, by the way.”

  An excruciating silence erupted between the two. A gap they let the distant music fill. How was she supposed to know he'd wanted her to do that? Was he hurt? He looked hurt. Good. It was probably only a fraction of what he’d made her feel when she’d been living there. Her bully. Making him suffer unknowingly was just about one of the worst kinds of vengeance she could think up. But was it good if it made her suffer too? If it made her feel like she’d wronged him. She could sense her grandmother watching them from the Elder Walkway. Normally she would be scrambling, trying to find a way to make sure no one misconstrued what was happening between him and her. No. That no one would make a correct interpretation of it. She’d hurt him, and by extension, via the way she felt about him, had hurt herself too.

  “Your grandmother is heading our way.” He pointed Elderward.

  She should apologize. “I got that.” He should apologize, for the way he’d treated her.

  “That music, huh. Sure is fun. Maybe I should go, celebrate with the others.” He started walking toward her approaching mother. “Blessed sleep, Ranger.”

  “Blessed dancing, Ranger,” she said. “Maybe we could do something later. Just us.”

  He stopped and turned. She waited for his ‘Yes’. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lavi said instead. “My mother has found a potential suitor for me. Some King of the Deep-Forest. Could strengthen our Forestdom.”

  She couldn’t breathe. “You don’t care about the crown.”

  “No. But the Queen is young yet. Has outlived many children. Will probably outlive me. I don’t have to fear the crown. I can just serve. Let some sibling I’ll never know worry about the throne. Or better yet, another people’s chosen. If the Ocean can do it, why can’t we?”

  She didn’t respond. Apricot kept walking closer. He started moving forward; away from her. “Should have just written a letter! If you wanted to speak to me!” A Green Ranger yelled out. Didn’t care who heard her.

  “Maybe I should have!” A Gold Ranger said before he kept moving away.

  ***

  Vibarawe’Nasima Nkokoka felt himself, his body, start to change. On another day, he would have welcomed the shift with enthusiasm. See it as an opportunity to explore the deepest parts of his Identity. Today, however, he cursed the Unnamed, for he was currently taking part in one of the most important deals of his life, and that opportunity morphed into weakness. Into distraction. He had put the Systemborne on the ground. He’d been about to best them, make the seventh scratch on his opponent’s crimson chest plate, before the shift had began to make its call, and he had faltered. It became their opportunity. West hit the sword away from their chest with their metal braced forearm and rose in an instant, punching at Viba’s belly. The King deflected the first, and the second, but then he miscalculated. Not a miscalculation. His body was growing smaller. Not by a wide margin—all of his forms were usually separated by less than a dozen pounds, unless his shifts were deliberate—but wide enough. His hand went for the deflection, and only his fingers met West’s fist, bending backwards till they almost broke. The punch landed on his throat and he fell to the ground.

  What? Rain falling on her on a hot day. The sky was dry, but that was what it felt like—what it always felt like—when she underwent the shift. Her polished, brown and silver armor was loose, correcting itself, adapting to her new size. Her head swayed as blurry eyes found some of the onlookers. Her gaze focused. They were beside themselves, laughing. A groan. She was never going to live this down. Swaying her hand back and forth, she examined it. Mute silver skin where it used to be brighter. One of the fingers was definitely broken, though it felt numb. Her friend waited beyond it.

  “Shape-changing sucks.”

  “Takes practice. You’ll learn to control it in no time,” the Former King said. “Are we in agreement?”

  Agreement. The Deal. She was going to have to go through with it. Getting married. Another groan. “Yeah. No war with the Derethambelai.” The Shallows. “Take Gerena with your party. Make sure Lavinia’s offer is genuine.”

  “As you wish my King.”

  “And help me up… please.”