Tower of Fangs Tower of Thorns Volume V Chapter 5

 

Chapter 5  The Forest King

The battle ended. Friendship began. For the first time since descending into Elyria, Moon remained in one place longer than a single day. The ancient forest became his home. At least temporarily. Moon liked it there. The forest felt alive. Not merely because spirits inhabited it. Not merely because magic flowed through every root and leaf. It felt alive because it remembered. Every tree held stories. Every river carried memories. Every stone seemed older than kingdoms. And at the heart of it all stood Tapio. The Forest King. One of the old gods. The forgotten protector.

Moon spent nearly two weeks beneath the sacred spruce. To anyone watching, the friendship made little sense. Tapio was ancient. Moon was young. Tapio was cautious. Moon trusted almost everyone. Tapio carried centuries of bitterness. Moon carried none. Yet somehow they understood each other. The old god often found the celestial sitting high among his branches. Watching clouds. Watching birds. Watching absolutely nothing. Moon enjoyed simply existing. Tapio found this deeply suspicious.

"How do you spend entire days doing nothing?"

Moon looked down from a branch.

"I'm not doing nothing."

"You are staring at clouds."

"They're very interesting clouds."

Tapio stared. Moon smiled. The old god groaned. The forest itself seemed embarrassed. The animals loved Moon immediately. Foxes slept beside him. Birds nested in his hair. Deer followed him through the woods. Even predators treated him strangely.

One afternoon a massive bear wandered into the clearing. Moon greeted it. The bear sat beside him. Then both spent several hours watching a stream.

Tapio observed the entire thing.

"You're not normal."

Moon looked surprised.

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I know."

Moon smiled anyway. The old god slowly realized something important. Moon wasn't pretending. He wasn't hiding his nature. He truly was this gentle. This curious. This kind. It made Tapio uncomfortable. The world wasn't kind. The heavens certainly weren't. Yet somehow this celestial remained untouched by bitterness.

One evening they sat beneath the sacred spruce together. The sky burned gold and crimson. Autumn leaves drifted through the air. Moon floated lazily above the grass. Tapio sat against his enormous roots. For a long while neither spoke.

Then Moon asked:

"Are there many old gods left?"

The question changed everything.

Tapio's smile faded.

His green eyes drifted toward the distant horizon.

"There used to be."

Moon listened quietly.

The old god's voice became softer.

"Before kingdoms."

"Before empires."

"Before churches."

"Before mankind forgot."

The forest darkened around them.

Ancient memories stirred.

"There were hundreds."

Moon blinked.

"Hundreds?"

Tapio nodded.

"Thousands, perhaps."

His gaze drifted upward.

"River gods."

"Mountain gods."

"Forest kings."

"Storm queens."

"Sea mothers."

"Fire spirits."

Moon listened carefully.

Tapio continued.

"Every forest had guardians."

"Every lake had spirits."

"Every mountain possessed its own god."

The old god smiled sadly.

"The world was crowded with divinity."

Moon frowned.

"What happened?"

Tapio laughed softly.

A tired laugh.

"The same thing that always happens."

The wind moved through the trees.

"People changed."

Moon remained silent.

"Once mortals offered prayers."

Tapio looked at his own hands.

"They remembered us."

"They needed us."

His voice became quieter.

"Then they built kingdoms."

"Learned new ways."

"Created new faiths."

The old god looked away.

"And they forgot."

Moon's expression softened.

Tapio smiled sadly.

"Gods do not die as mortals do."

The forest king touched one of the massive roots beside him.

"We fade."

Moon immediately disliked that answer.

Tapio noticed.

The old god chuckled.

"You're making that face."

"What face?"

"The one where you disagree with reality."

Moon looked offended.

"I don't make that face."

"You absolutely do."

Moon crossed his arms.

Tapio laughed again.

A genuine laugh this time.

Then the old god became serious once more.

"There are still some of us."

Moon immediately brightened.

"Really?"

Tapio nodded.

"The strongest survived."

"The stubborn ones."

Moon smiled.

Tapio rolled his eyes.

"You sound excited."

"I am."

The old god shook his head.

"Of course you are."

Moon moved closer.

"Tell me about them."

Tapio hesitated.

Then sighed.

"Fine."

The forest darkened. The wind whispered through ancient branches. And for the first time Moon heard the names of the old gods.

"The Lady of Lakes."

"Aino."

Moon listened carefully.

"Beautiful."

"Dangerous."

"Older than memory."

Tapio continued.

"The Mountain Father."

"Ukko."

The name seemed heavy.

Like thunder.

"The strongest of us."

"Or he was."

The old god smiled faintly.

"He once punched a dragon."

Moon's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"Because the dragon insulted him."

Moon stared.

Tapio shrugged.

"It was a very large dragon."

Moon immediately wanted to meet Ukko.

Tapio noticed.

"No."

"But"

"No."

Moon sighed.

The old god continued.

"There is also Ilmatar."

"The Lady of Winds."

"Vellamo."

"Queen of the Deep Seas."

"Mielikki."

"The Huntress."

The names felt ancient. Sacred. Each carried stories. Legends. Histories. Entire civilizations.

Moon listened with complete fascination.

Then he asked:

"Are they kind?"

Tapio froze. The old god stared. Then laughed so hard several birds flew away.

Moon looked confused.

"What?"

Tapio wiped tears from his eyes.

"Oh celestial."

The old god grinned.

"No."

Moon blinked.

"No?"

"No."

Tapio leaned back against the tree.

"The old gods are many things."

"Proud."

"Wise."

"Powerful."

"Terrifying."

The grin widened.

"But kind?"

He laughed again.

"Absolutely not."

Moon looked disappointed.

Tapio pointed at him.

"You're the strange one."

The celestial frowned.

"I don't think kindness is strange."

The old god's smile softened.

For a brief moment sadness appeared in his eyes.

"You will."

Moon didn't answer.

Because somehow that answer felt wrong. The stars appeared above them. The forest became quiet. Then Tapio asked a question. One he had wanted to ask since meeting Moon.

"Why are you here?"

Moon looked up. The stars reflected in his jet-black eyes. For a moment those eyes shimmered silver. Like moonlight upon water. The sight surprised Tapio. The old god had never seen eyes like that. Not even among gods.

Moon smiled softly.

"I wanted to see the world."

Tapio waited.

Moon's smile grew.

"I wanted to meet people."

The old god blinked.

"That's it?"

Moon nodded. Tapio stared. Then laughed helplessly. The heavens truly had created something ridiculous. A celestial who crossed worlds simply because he was curious.

Moon smiled.

Tapio shook his head. Yet beneath the laughter the old god felt something unexpected. Hope. Tiny. Fragile. Almost forgotten. Perhaps the world had not entirely changed. Perhaps beauty still existed. Perhaps there were still beings willing to care about forgotten things. The forest king looked toward the young celestial. Moon sat among drifting leaves beneath ancient branches. Peaceful. Happy. Alive. And for the first time in centuries Tapio felt less alone.

Far above the forest, the moon rose slowly into the night sky. And beneath the sacred spruce, an old god and a young celestial sat together as friends while the forgotten world quietly remembered how to dream.