The Harvester

 

A woman falls through the roof of Dahyun’s house in the Green Forest.

 

*

 

She falls through the roof of my house and onto my bed. The mattress squeaks and groans beneath her. Broken twigs and orange leaves are stuck in her hair while dirt clings to her short blue robe. Her eyes are clenched shut, her pink lips are drawn into a thin line.

 

The tiny wind spirits on my desk rush towards her, sending the papers on my desk flying to the floor, then float down from the desk and onto her legs. I notice the horrid state of the underside of her feet and the pine needles stuck there, digging into her flesh. Small cuts mar her delicate skin, blood has mixed with the dirt.

 

I frown.

 

Something knocks against my house. I look over my shoulder, noticing more wind spirits trying to get underneath the wooden door. I get up from my desk, sighing, knowing they won’t stop until I let them inside.

 

The woman groans, an unpleasant sound resonating from deep within .

 

Turning, I look at her once more, noticing that she’s moving; she kicks her legs, spreading dirt over my once pristine white bed. Her eyes are screwed shut in pain, her hands grip the sheets tightly, her knuckles turn white like snow.

 

The wind spirits begin to sing, chirping lightly as they push against the door with a keen curiosity that only grows as the seconds pass by. I open the door and the wind spirits rush in, tumbling like waves as they fall over the threshold. They reach the bed frame, clambering at the wood as they try to climb. They fight and crawl over each other, their chirping becomes laboured, frustrated. I watch them for a moment before deciding to help.

 

I gather them in the palms of my hands and lift them up, placing them on the bed. They chirp again, a sound like laughter, and dance around the woman, getting themselves tangled in her bright brown locks of hair. They take out the broken branches and use the orange leaves as parachutes as they jump from her forehead and soar down onto the dirt-ridden sheets.

 

A wind spirit, smaller and shyer than the rest, nudges the back of my hand and then carefully places a leaf by my thumb. I pick it up, twirling it between my fingertips.

 

It’s a leaf from the Golden Forest.

 

The woman groans again and moves onto her side, burying her face into the bed, as if wanting to hide.

 

«Hey, stop that.» I scold when I notice that the wind spirits are using her hair as vines to pull themselves up. I catch them one by one by the nape of their necks and place them down on the ground.

 

They being to whine — wind spirits are such childish creatures — and cling to the bottom of my pants, pulling at the soft material, begging to be let up again. It seems I’ve spoiled their fun.

 

Their whining becomes louder, the woman’s groans grow more pained.

 

Her eyes suddenly shoot open and she abruptly sits up, her head almost colliding with the wall. She whips around to face me.

 

«Are you the Harvester ?» She asks breathlessly, staring at me.

 

«I am.»

 

Nobody’s called me the Harvester in a long time. I thought I’d been forgotten.

 

She looks relieved, then winces as she pulls her legs closer to her chest. She begins to peel the pine needles off from the underside of her feet and grimaces, sticking her tongue out.

 

«Were you walking on my roof?» I ask, watching her closely.

 

She looks at me and gives me a small meek smile, as if caught in a trap. «I didn’t know it was your roof.» She leans back against the wall, careful with her feet, and says, «everything’s covered in green, I thought it was just a hill, not your hut.»

 

«House.» I correct her. «This is my house.»

 

«All right. Your house.» She gives me a toothy grin, her eyes twinkling like starlight. «My name’s Sana. Sana Minatozaki. I’m from a mountain village far away from here.»

 

She doesn’t reach her hand out in greeting, she doesn’t stand to bow. All she does is give me this look, as if I’m supposed to know her.

 

I eye her carefully; noticing how her robe looks worn out, almost torn (as if wolves have been at her). Her hair is a tangled mess, small scrapes and scratches dance up her long, lean arms. Purple bruises are scattered across her legs. She her head to the side, then gives me another small smile.

 

There’s something at work here, something I don’t understand. This woman — Sana — looks at me like I’m supposed to know what she’s doing here, but I must admit that even I am unaware of the reason for her presence, all I know is that this is a disturbance of peace.

 

I am very busy; I have spirits to protect, a forest to keep alive. The grass cannot grow without me, and if I stopped caring for the plants, the bushes, the trees, the rocks and all the mountains that stretch far beyond what the eye can see —they would all leave.

 

«Hey!» Sana calls, looking down by her side. «These things! They led me here!»

 

I follow her gaze and notice all of the little wind spirits huddled together in a corner on the bed. They must’ve climbed up my leg without me noticing.

 

«Did they now?» I say, kneeling and giving them a scrutinising glare.

 

They do this quite often: Lure people into the Green Forest, take them around in circles, and then they expect me to help these poor souls out. But they’ve never made someone fall through the roof of my house before.

 

A pleasant knock on my door would have sufficed. Indeed.

 

The wind spirits look up at me. They don’t have eyes, noses, mouths, or limbs, but they do have a heart somewhere deep within their tiny round bodies. They coo at me and shiver, making the bed vibrate. The room grows colder as a strong breeze dances around the room.

 

Sana grips her robe tightly, trying to prevent it from flying open.

 

I feel the wind running through my hair, the chill against my neck. A smile forms on my lips. I stand back, and the wind spirits immediately calm down. The breeze stops. The wind spirits jump off the bed and hurry out the door (but I know they’ll be back by dinner time. For some reason they like to help me cook).

 

«What are they?» Sana whispers.

 

«Wind spirits.» I say with a tired sigh. «They like to cause trouble by pulling people into the forest, and when the fun’s all gone, they expect me to help those people find their way out again.»

 

Sana nods, she doesn’t look scared, but she doesn’t look convinced. «Why can I see them?» She asks.

 

I remember another woman many years ago, who had knocked on my door rather than fall through my roof, ask the same question. But I can’t remember what I told her, I think I might’ve lied to her.

 

Or perhaps I was honest back then and told the truth, even though the truth itself sounds like a lie.

 

«I don’t know.» I breathe, looking down at the floor. A wind spirit, the one who gave me the orange leaf has decided to stay with us, rather than flee with the rest of the pack.

 

I look back up at Sana. 

 

«Anyone who stays with me long enough tends to see what I see —anyway, that’s not important. May I ask why you are here?»

 

Sana nods, slowly, then wraps her arms around her legs. «We need you. There’s a sickness spreading through the forest.» Her voice is suddenly small, unsure, almost scared. «I talked to the Cold and the River. They could’t help me, they both turned me away. But when I met the Reaper, she told me to find you. That’s why I’m here.»

 

I regard Sana for a moment, knowing that anyone who enters the Reaper’s domain, the Golden Forest, aren’t usually allowed to leave with their life.

 

«What did you trade in order to be able to leave?» I ask her curiously, lifting an eyebrow.

 

«Not a trade.» Sana shakes her head, suddenly gravely serious. «A game.»

 

«And did this game include me?»

 

«You were the end goal.»

 

«I see.»

 

I’ve never known the Reaper to be the type to indulge in petty little games. Trades? Yes, I’ve heard of them and how she thought them entertaining (because those trades always work in her favour). But this game is new, and now I’v been dragged into it —and I’m afraid I’ll have to play.

 

«I had to outrun her beasts.» Sana says.

 

Suddenly, her worn robe and all the marks on her skin make sense. I’ve seen the Reaper’s beasts; they’re vicious creatures with fangs as big as swords, their paws larger than my front door, and great sharp claws like scimitars. Their eyes are swirling pools of blood and their jaws are so strong that one snap can break a human in half.

 

«The wind spirits aided me —they took me into this forest and helped me hide, then they led me to you. Although, I don’t understand why they made me walk on your roof when they could’ve just guided me to your front door.»

 

«They enjoy luring people in.»

 

«A game, then. Much like the Reaper— »

 

«No,» I cut her off, «not like the Reaper. Wind spirits don’t do it to purposely hurt you. They’re like children. They don’t know any better.»

 

Sana shuts , her words have died on her lips, and perhaps for the better.

 

I don’t like it when people talk ill of the Green Forest —especially not the wind spirits.

 

They are my responsibility: mine to admonish, mine to protect. 

 

*

 

Of course, I let Sana stay.

 

The Golden Forest is far away from the Green Forest, Sana’s been running for days, surviving on small amounts of sleep and juicy berries found while on the run. At least that’s all she managed to tell me before the wind spirits lulled her to sleep with their gentle cooing, and I was left with nothing but her sleeping form.

 

She’s resting on my bed now, she fell asleep quite quickly. The sheets are still dirty, but when she wakes again (which I hope she will soon, seeing as it is past midday), I will change them. And I will offer to wash and clean her wounds.

 

Though Sana is not a tree, bush nor a tiny wind spirit, I can help her. The Green Forest has many secrets, and I am one of the few, if not the only, lucky enough to hold all of the forest’s mysteries in the palms of my hands.

 

I know how to stop an oak tree from losing its leaves, I know how to keep the rivers running and the grass green. I help the wind spirits on their long journey from north to south, and west to east. I let them stay with me when they are tired, and I let them go when the time comes in spring.

 

I’m no god or divine being, I am but a force of a nature —like the moon pulls the waves and the sun warms the earth— I keep the forest alive. All the living beings are under my care and so is Sana as long as she is here in my forest.

 

I’m sitting by my desk, I have urgent matters to attend to, letters to write for the wind spirits to carry to the Golden Forest. Whatever the Reaper’s game is, I must know (and that way I can avoid playing for now). 

 

Sana stirs, groaning. She has an odd habit of moving in her sleep and making deep groaning sounds that stem from the back of . She has kicked my wall several times in her restless sleep and each time I look over my shoulder, I find her in a different position.

 

Her hair is unruly, the grey sash around her middle, which is to keep the robe from falling open, has been loosened to make it more comfortable. She has a long pale neck like a crane and protruding collarbones —they are a mountainside so beautiful even I could not have carved.

 

I hear the sheets rustling, then everything falls silent. I feel her eyes on me. It is unpleasant; I just thought about her and her long journey. I am afraid and unsure if I voiced my thoughts out loud.

 

The sheets rustle again. Sana gasps, then winces. I look over my shoulder and notice Sana swinging her feet over the bed. I get up so quickly I nearly knock my chair over.

 

«Don’t.» I say, kneeling down in front of her, «sit. I’ll help you with your wounds.»

 

I keep healing ointment under my bed, away from the sunlight that streams in my window from sunrise until sundown, lest I would want the ointment to dry out.

 

There are too many cuts on her feet to count. I begin slowly, applying the ointment with care. Her skin is warm under my touch, the ointment is cool from having stayed in the shadows. It is like pressing ice against a raging fire, it sings, it melts, my hands tingle.

 

Sana hums above me, a satisfying sound. I continue upwards, my hands dancing up her ankles, along the back of her leg where I feel strong and firm muscle tensing beneath my fingertips. I reach her thigh where the bruises are purple, scattered like drops of ink across the flesh.

 

She hisses when my thumb smoothes over a bruise and draws her tongue between her teeth. I look up and her eyes are on mine.

 

There is something hammering against my chest, a rush like cold water running up my spine along every vertebrae, making me shiver.

 

«I fell asleep.» Sana breathes.

 

Her voice is quiet, but not uncertain. Strong, stronger than mine which has fled my mouth in fear.

«Yes, you did.» I mutter, drawing my eyes away from hers; it feels as if I’m ripping the grass from the earth.

 

«Sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for not kicking me out of your house.» Sana sits back and I take my hand off her thigh.

 

I feel her hand on my cheek, her thumb swipes right beneath my eye leaving behind a trail like fire. I burn.

 

«This game with the Reaper,» I say with sudden nervousness, «how are you playing it?»

 

«I don’t know. Now that I’ve found you, I believe the game is over. Whether I’ve won or not is still up to debate, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m here now.»

 

I pull away from her hand. The fire in me turns to ash.

 

Sana’s hand is slow as it falls from my cheek and into her lap where her fingertips pull and tug at the grey sash tied around her middle. She looks away, out of the window, and over the green hills.

 

The sun is going down, soon it will disappear behind the mountains. The wind spirits will rush into my home and hide as the nighttime shadows feast, devouring the Green Forest.

 

«What is it I can do for you, now that you’ve found me?» I ask as politely as I can.

 

«The forest is sick.» She says without turning to face me.

 

Her hand tightens around her sash, twisting the material between her fingertips.

 

«The Green Forest?» I frown.

 

«Not this one.» Sana shakes her head, then turns to me. Her face is gentle, yet I see her lower lip wobble. Even though her eyes are warm and kind, there are tears streaking down her cheeks.

 

«The forest near my home is sick.»

 

«How?»

 

«A cloud of smoke attacked my village. It turned the cattle and sheep into beasts with fangs and claws.»

 

«Did they look like the Reaper’s beasts?»

 

Sana shakes her head. «The Reaper’s beasts look like hunting dogs, made for chasing down beings like me. The cattle and sheep look like monsters made for destroying. The forest has been sick ever since the animals were turned into these hideous things. I’ve watched the forest decay, soon it will be nothing but a wasteland suitable only for the undead.»

 

I dip my hand in the cold ointment, spreading it over my palm. I work the ointment into her skin, beginning from her foot and up to her thigh again.

 

She watches me in silence, waiting for me, my words, my advice, my hope which is now her hope —her entire village’s hope— but I have little to say, perhaps nothing, that could please her.

 

Unless she wants a lie. I can give her one. I know exactly what to say.

 

But when I look up again I realise I cannot. I am better than that, I have to be.

 

«You want me to save it.» I say.

 

Sana nods.

 

My heart sinks, my hands falter for a moment and Sana gasps when I, too roughly, press my hand over a bruise on her thigh. An accident. I cannot think properly, there is a windstorm passing through me:

 

How do I go about saving a forest that is not my own?

 

*

 

The wind spirits return after the sun has gone down.

 

They have brought with them fresh thyme and rosemary from over the hill. Others come from further away and have brought watercress from one of the many rivers that run through the forest.

 

Another wind spirit has brought a small pebble —not for cooking. The spirit chirps lightly at me, informing me that it is such a pretty rock; it could not stay at the bottom of the river, trapped beneath the muddy water. It belongs in my window for all to see.

 

I place the rock beside the other five pale rocks this wind spirit has brought me.

 

The fire crackles, the wood crumples, the embers glow orange with warmth. I place a small pot over the fire, heating up a mutton stew.

 

«Don’t put that in.» I say quickly, grabbing the container of salt before the wind spirits can dump the entire thing into the boiling pot.

 

«They really do have a mind of their own.» Sana chuckles.

 

I look over my shoulder seeing Sana folding the newly washed bedsheets. Her feet have been wrapped with white bandages, and I have loaned her a pair of trousers to wear. They are too short on her, only reaching down to her ankles.

 

But Sana doesn’t seem to mind.

 

She smiles at me and thanks me again for letting her stay the night.

 

I nod, feeling the corners of my mouth twitching as she watches me, waits for me. Words have died on my tongue. I turn back to the pot and notice that the wind spirits have dropped several mushrooms into the stew.

 

«There’s one on your head.» Sana says, her voice is warm.

 

I wonder what her laugh sounds like…

 

«Do they come and go as they please?»

 

«Yes.» I say, feeling the wind spirit on my head stretch, then burrow itself, using my dark locks of hair as a blanket. «This is their home.»

 

«You share your house with them?»

 

«No, I mean,» I pause before my thoughts come flooding out my mouth. There is much I want to say, but I fear Sana will tire of it. «The entire forest is their home, my house just happens to be a part of it.»

 

«Oh. I understand.» Sana’s voice grows quiet, fading to a whisper, «I guess that means you never get lonely.»

 

*

 

Sana is sleeping in my bed, I am outside on the forest floor. The wind spirit is still on my head, asleep, another is resting on my chest. For creatures with no limbs and supposedly no mouths as well, they are loud snorers. That is not to say it is a disturbance. They are peaceful spirits in their sleep, cooing as they dream of journeying to new and exciting lands far beyond the Green Forest.

 

I turn my head, situating myself in an uncomfortable position, and see my house. The half-moon shines above it.

 

There is a steady thrum in my chest when I think about Sana and how she had asked me to stay inside. But I know it is too intimate for the both of us, so I stay away, knowing that when the forest near her home is healed, she will go and I will be forgotten again. 

 

*

 

The wind spirits wake me at sunrise.

 

Sana is with them, looming over me, her hair has fallen over her shoulder and is touching my cheek, tickling my skin. I want to sit up, but then our foreheads will collide, so I remain lying on the grass.

 

There is something uncanny about her, or perhaps it has been too long since someone has visited me —talked to me. Her eyes are wide and curious as she continues to gaze at me. She blinks. There it is again, the waiting, the hope, I don’t know what to say.

 

«Good morning.»

 

She nods, a small smile forms on her lips. «Indeed.» She says, then sits back, and I use my elbows to prop myself up.

 

Sana looks over her shoulder, back at my house. Longing washes over her, drowning out the curiosity in her eyes. Her face turns sad and the wind is cold against my arms —both our arms— Sana shivers.

 

«I miss the forest back home.» She whispers, then turns to me. «In the autumn, all the leaves on the trees used to turn red and orange, it looked as if the forest was on fire. During the winter, snow covered the ground. It was so bright, and it seemed as if time stood still. Spring was —is still my favourite, because that’s when everything comes back to life. It’s like the forest’s breathing again.»

 

«You’ve traveled far to find me.» I whisper.

 

It dawns on me then that Sana is waiting for me — the Harvester. And I realise that I have been gone for far too long (or perhaps I have not been gone; I have been rooted in the same place while weeds have taken over the flowerbed). The world has changed. It is better. But only in some places. I must go where I am needed.

 

«A cloud of smoke took over your village? It turned the animals into monsters?» I ask.

 

«Yes. And then they retreated into the forest, I heard a howl calling them. The animals left behind a trail of ash. All else is burnt.»

 

*

 

Sana stays with me for several more days and nights. She says she will leave when her feet have healed and she can travel.

 

There is a look in her eyes, a lingering question. It burns her. Burns me.

 

The sun comes up in the morning, the wind spirits rush out of my door, basking in the pale light. They coo and laugh, the wind blows through the grass and fallen leaves. The spirits return tired at night and sleep with us. They are terribly afraid of the dark and the shadows.

 

I sleep outside, sometimes Sana joins me. I hear her breath, soft in the night, mixing with the sounds of the nocturnal creatures. An owl hoots. A bird sings a lullaby.

 

There are many stars out tonight. I could count them, but I fear I’ll fall asleep before I’ve even reached half.

 

Sana rolls over, her hand is close to mine, her fingertips ghosting over my arm. I sense her watching me, my breath is caught in my throat. When I turn, she has moved to face the sky again. 

 

Although I have not yet told her, I will go with her.

 

And despite the truth that I do not know how to save a forest I haven’t grown myself, I do know how to create a new one.

 

*

 

«Where are we going?» She asks me as I lead her over the hill.

 

Her robe is clean, the bruises on her legs have healed, the ugly purple-yellowish colour has faded, the cuts on her feet have healed. She is healthy, and the joy in her face reveals how much she has wanted to travel.

 

«To find out where the source of this sickness is.» I tell her.

 

She stops in her tracks. I look over my shoulder, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

 

«Aren’t you going to join me?»

 

«Yes! Yes, of course!» Sana shouts with glee.

 

*

 

The wind spirits decide to accompany us as we walk towards the edge of the Green Forest. Trees curve; bending and twisting beside us. The rivers are quick as they run through the forest, smoothing over small rocks in the water. Birds sing as they sit on the branches, the wind spirits fly back and forth, inspecting the path lain out before us, then returning to our side, chirping lightly.

 

It is a fine day, they sing, will you come back?

 

I nod carefully while something inside me stirs, clenching like a fist around my heart.

 

The wind spirits chirp again.

 

Sana’s steps are light, her eyes speak of a long-forgotten joy as she journeys through the forest with me. She laughs by my side as the wind spirits run around her feet, rubbing against her bare ankles.

 

A tired wind spirit has taken a place on my shoulder. Its entire body vibrates and my shoulder tingles from its gentle snores.

 

Sana skips next to me, for a moment I think she’s reaching for my arm, but then she looks to the ground, and she falls into a march-like pace, matching me.

 

«What is your name? Other than the Harvester ?» She asks, and though her voice is small, she is not scared.

 

Not scared of me, which somehow soothes me. Long before the world had been destroyed, I remember that people feared me, but not for what I could do.

 

My name before I became the Harvester is neither forgotten nor important. I am not that person any longer, thus it matters little to me, and it should not matter to her. But from the way Sana is gazing at me, the expectancy in her eyes, I believe she wants my name from before.

 

«It’s Dahyun.» I say softly, tasting my name in my own mouth.

 

It is strange. Some things rot over time, while other things, such as wine, grow richer. My name is neither foul nor sweet on my tongue. It sits there, filling my mouth with an emptiness which has been long since forgotten.

 

Memories breach the corners of my mind. I remember my mother made me a shawl out of a thick yarn she had traded from a merchant vessel. It was to ward off the cold from my skin. My father taught me how to hunt with a spear, and prepare and dry fish so we’d have food for the winter.

 

I lived in a fishing village, far from the Green Forest.

 

That was when I was Dahyun.

 

The world has since changed.

 

I am no longer Dahyun. Though, she does still exist in memories; in blurred images, sometimes I feel her fingers reaching out of my mind, hand clenching and unclenching like a baby reaching for their mother’s hand for the first time.

 

«Were you born here?» Sana asks, her voice urges me to look at her.

 

«In the forest, you mean?»

 

«I’m just curious.» She shrugs.

 

«I was born in a fishing village far from here.» I say, my voice sounds laboured, tired.

 

The fist around my heart tightens with a warning, stopping the words in my mouth from tumbling out.

 

Sana takes my hand gently, stilling our steps.

 

I fail to understand what it is she wants from me now. I will save her forest, is that not enough?

 

There is something in her eyes. A sudden sadness. She peers through me like I am a glass window. Her gaze turns to steel, her eyes sharp as knives. Her hand gently tightens around mine, her thumb sweeps over my knuckles. A sigh escapes her lips.

 

I imagine sugar-coated words falling from , and I imagine myself picking them up and placing them on my tongue. They’d be sweeter than the red grapes crushed to make wine, richer than the scent of jasmine in spring. It would be enough for me to feast on for the rest of my life. I would never have to say another word.

 

Sana smiles, no words slip off her tongue, the sadness in her eyes doesn’t vanish.

 

*

 

Most of the wind spirits leave when we reach the edge of the Green Forest.

 

The grass stops where grey and more grey begins. The land has desiccated, there are cracks in the surface, the rivers have dried and the mountaintops stick out of the earth like sharp pikes.

 

The wind spirits coo, telling me to hurry back. Then they warn me, whispering in my ear that the Reaper has left the Golden Forest, looking for some fun. I watch the wind spirits leave; they fly back into the safety of the trees in the Green Forest.

 

The wind spirit is still resting on my shoulder and is adamant about not leaving my side.

 

It says it wants to protect me.

 

Sana stands beside me, unnerved and unafraid. She lifts her chin when a strong gust of wind swoops at us. A challenge. The wind swoops at us again, this time stronger, and Sana’s hair is wild around her face. She looks like a warrior.

 

The wind spirit latches onto my shirt, trying to bury itself in the soft material. It shivers, and I hold it closer to my chest; it is soft and precious in my hands, and I must be gentle as if I am holding the petals of a flower.

 

Sana looks over at me.

 

«Are you sure?» She asks, and for the first time she sounds unsure of herself.

 

*

 

Where the Green Forest stops, the Hinterlands begin.

 

But I am the Harvester, and with every step I take, a green path trails behind me. The soil becomes fertile, flowers sprout from the earth, trees spiral towards the sky. The smell of freshly cut grass fills the air.

 

«Is this why they call you the Harvester?» Sana says.

 

She has stopped in her tracks and is looking behind her at the trail of life: of trees and flowers, of bushes and plants. I can smell the flowers blooming to life, can feel the energy shift and change, the sun is warm on my skin, the wind gentle as it smooths over my cheek.

 

The wind spirit is inspecting a white dandelion. The petals are like snow, the centre is the sun which shines like gold.

 

My eyes flicker to Sana.

 

There is an urge to say more, to let my tongue tell the tales of my life, to speak in a way which helps me let go; to loosen my grip around the now and let the past wash over me.

 

«Yes, this is what I did before.»

 

A wave hits me then, it feels like I’m drowning as my throat tightens, my arms are tense by my side.

 

«You bring forests back to life.» Sana hums thoughtfully, then she tilts her head to the side and asks: «Before?»

 

My tongue is a whip in my mouth, it stings. It hurts.

 

«They call me the Harvester because I take care of the trees, well, I used to.»

 

«Now you— »

 

«Now I spend my days in the Green Forest, occupying my time by making sure the grass grows and the flowers bloom, that the rivers run and the wind spirits are safe.»

 

«Safe from what?»

 

«Safe from everything.»

 

I want to say I keep them safe from the shadows which the wind spirits have convinced themselves must be dangerous. That I protect them from the Reaper who likes to steal them and lock them in cages in the Golden Forest. Or the winter which freezes everything, even the wind spirits, trapping them in frozen statues that not even the summer heat can melt.

 

«What about before that? You said you were from a fishing village.»

 

«I am.»

 

«How did you end up here?»

 

I wonder if she means how I ended up in the Green Forest, how I created it, or how I ended up becoming what I am now?

 

«Travels. I used to travel a lot.» I tell her, and for a moment I doubt my answer has satisfied her.

 

«Before you became the Harvester?»

 

«No. After.» I say, shaking my head. «I had only travelled once before I became the Harvester. I was seven and walked into a dying forest. There I exchanged my beating heart with the forest’s wilted one. I never returned to my village after that, and I never saw my parents again.»

 

*

 

We have travelled so far that I do not recognise the sky.

 

The stars above me are nameless but Sana knows this place, she is more familiar with this part of the world. She is lying beside me, pointing at each shining speck and telling me their story in a quiet, wondrous voice. She says their names have meanings, just like mine has.

And I want to ask her which of my names: Harvester or Dahyun?

 

Sana explains this new night sky to me; she weaves the stars together and shows me pictures of heroes and warriors, maidens and lovers. It is her mother who has taught her how to read the sky and the ancient stories that accompany the stars.

 

I listen, devouring these stories like sweet candy. They fill my empty mind, and I am taken back to a past that used to be mine.

 

My mother has paused her knitting to my hair, my father is hanging the fish over the fireplace. The wood crackles and the flames dance with life. I remember having a dog, a white one with fur the colour of milk.

 

The wind howls and knocks against our door, threatening to blow the hinges off. And then it calms, and the wind coos softly. It slips under the door and cups my cheeks with its cold and chilly hands. The wind whispers to me, only me, and says I must go to a forest and exchange my heart for theirs.

 

Then it is gone, and Sana is beside me, holding my hand. She turns to me and says adamantly that she has not forgotten the tales her mother has told her and she never will.

 

*

 

The Hinterlands end where a new, but decaying forest, begins.

 

I feel the trees here calling for me, singing a prayer as their roots reach out of the earth to wrap around my ankles, but their wooden hands are weak and I free myself from their loose grip.

 

Sana holds my hand tightly, gently tugging me away from the crumbling trees. Big chunks of the bark have fallen to the forest floor, soon the branches will follow.

 

I squeeze Sana’s hand, hearing her breath hitch. I look over my shoulder, only to notice Sana’s cheeks are slightly red, and her eyes refuse to meet mine.

 

We walk on, but the green path that blooms to life behind me is quickly devoured by a sickness. The flowers wrinkle, the petals loose their colour. The green grass stiffens as it turns grey, as if a fist is squeezing the life out of it.

 

The forest floor is littered with black dust. Nothing grows, and it looks as if the trees, the bushes and even the plants have tried to flee, but to no avail. They have stopped, curving away as if an explosion went off.

 

«What is it?» Sana asks as I reach down to touch the dust.

 

It is coarse against my fingertips and stains my skin inky black. I frown, feeling my anger flaring in my belly.

 

«Gunpowder.» I breathe, then stand, wiping my hand on my trousers.

 

*

 

«There’s another mining village on the mountainside. It’s north of mine. Do you think the gunpowder could’ve come from there?» Sana asks.

 

She’s perched on a rock which juts out from the side of a hill. I am below her, looking at the trail of dust which disappears deeper into the forest.

 

«I believe so.»

 

«Then that means they’re the ones who’ve poisoned the forest.»

 

«Indeed.» I say, looking down at the wind spirit which runs in circles by my feet.

 

It is stressed, cooing wildly, trying to listen to other wind spirits who might live in this forest. Suddenly, it clamours at my foot, trying to climb up my leg.

 

The forest shivers, letting out a shrill shriek. A shadow creeps out from among the dead trees.

 

«Reaper.» I say, lifting my chin.

 

«Harvester.» The Reaper replies, stepping forwards, her black cape, a waterfall of silk off her shoulders. Her hair is silver, her neck long and slender, her arms reach all the way down to her knees, and instead of nails she has claws, and instead of feet she has hooves.

 

The wind spirit cries, then falls to the ground.

 

Sana jumps down from the rock and walks close to me. She picks up the wind spirit, cradling it in her arms.

 

«Ah. Sana.» The Reaper’s voice is like a song as it cuts through the air. «So you did manage to outrun my beasts.»

 

«I didn’t outrun them.» Sana’s eyes burn with a fury I’ve never seen before. «I only had to outsmart them.» Sana snaps.

 

The Reaper frowns, then circles us, her hooves are heavy on the ground and she lets out a deep chuckle. She steps closer to Sana and the wind spirit and holds out her long arm, pointing at the wind spirit. 

 

«Have you been following us?» I ask.

 

«No.» The Reaper quickly turns to face me, the cape swirls around her ankles. «I’m only here to claim something that will soon be mine.»

 

«You already have the Golden Forest! What more could you want?» Sana shouts, and I grab her arm, pulling her behind me before the Reaper decides to take her along with this dying place.

 

«The Golden Forest is only my home. I am the retriever of death and decay. I go where I am called, to the ends of the earth if need be. We all do.»

 

The Reaper steps forwards, soon she is right in front of me, and I place my hand against her chest, stopping her from reaching Sana. She hums and wraps her hand around mine, her claws are gentle not to slice my skin. She shrinks before me, the surface of her flesh bubbles like boiling water, her limbs jut out in all directions, then they all come together and a creature who looks much like a woman stands before us.

 

«You can’t have this forest!» Sana cries, and presses against my back and I press back, using my shoulder to keep her behind me. «Dahyun’s going to save it!»

 

«Save it?» The Reaper says, her voice is softer, lighter. «You misunderstand.» She smiles looking at Sana and the wind spirit.

 

«Do you know what happens when I claim something? It becomes a part of me, and I a part of it. A new Golden Forest comes into existence. Dahyun’s not going to save it.» The Reaper turns to me, and Sana stills against my back.

 

«We are the same, the Harvester and I.»

 

*

 

Night falls.

 

The wind spirit is curled up under Sana’s arm. The forest is silent, the stars are but a faint glow in the distance, hidden away by the curving tree branches.

 

«What did the Reaper mean?» Sana whispers into the dark.

 

There is a heavy weight on my chest, or perhaps the roots in the ground have grabbed me and are pulling me down, deep into the earth. I find my voice, weak on my tongue.

 

«We are a force of nature, Sana.» I breathe. «We don’t stop things. We keep them going.»

 

«This forest is already dead…» Sana says, running her hand through the dirt.

 

«Almost.» I whisper. «Not yet. Soon.»

 

Sana sighs, then turns on her side, looking at me. The wind spirit moves in its sleep, burying into Sana’s shirt like its a hide.

 

«You gave your heart to a dying forest. Is that how you became the Harvester?»

 

«In a way, yes.»

 

Sana’s gaze falters, she doesn’t meet my eyes anymore. Her features become stricken with something akin to guilt, pain. Her hand clenches on the ground.

 

«Is that what you’re going to do now?»

 

Her voice is soft, careful. She looks at me then, and I take a deep breath, steadying myself.

 

«I don’t know.»

 

«Please don’t lie to me.»

 

«I’m not.» My chest tightens. «I really don’t know.»

 

Sana reaches for me, traces my cheek with her fingertips, until they ghost over my lips and I let out a small gasp. She pulls away, and I reach up, touching my lips, feeling the warmth from Sana’s fingertips fading.

 

«I left my village to save a forest. Why did you?»

 

«For the same reason.»

 

«But you never returned?»

 

«No, I didn’t.» I say.

 

«What about your parents?»

 

«I’m sure they missed me. And I’m sure yours will miss you as well. You can go back to them, Sana.»

 

Sana shakes her head. «You don’t know anything about me, not really. And I feel like I know nothing about you, Dahyun.»

 

She smiles, brighter than the moon and the stars above us, and somehow it makes me feel like nothing else matters.

 

«Is it all right if I call you that instead? Dahyun?»

 

*

 

Sana comes from a village not far from here. She could leave, and I could go save this forest on my own. She says her father works in the fields, her mother weaves baskets. Sana used to keep watch over the sheep with some of the other girls in her village.

 

But then the animals turned, and the forest began to wilt.

 

«It wasn’t that we were scared of the monsters. On the contrary, we wanted to hunt them down.» Sana says, reaching into a small sack and popping a blueberry into .

 

She smiles at me, her tongue is blue.

 

«But then we realised we couldn’t. There had to be another way.»

 

«So you set out to find me?»

 

«No, I went into the forest myself, but it didn’t look like this.» Sana says, letting her eyes wander.

 

She then drops her gaze and rolls a blueberry between her fingertips before she carefully places it on her tongue.

 

«The grass was still green. Now it’s just… ash and dust.»

 

«You went into the forest to save it?»

 

Sana nods, then pushes the small sack towards me.

 

I reach into the sack, gathering four blueberries in the palm of my hand, and plop them one by one into my mouth, feeling the sweet juices burst with flavour on my tongue.

 

«I wasn’t very successful.»

 

*

 

We walk further into the forest, and I hear a heart, beating, pulsating. The forest exhales, then draws a deep breath. Dead wind spirits litter the ground, they’re sprawled over each other, hundreds of them. None of them left. They couldn’t.

 

Our little wind spirit companion is scared and has taken a place on my shoulder —too tired to use its own body to move.

 

The forest floor shakes and rumbles, the trees shiver, and the leaves dance on their way down from the branches, swirling in front of me.

 

Sana’s holding my hand tightly, sometimes she will tug on my arm and hold me back, keeping me from finding the heart of the forest.

 

She’ll give me this look, and then I wish she would just tell me because I can’t keep guessing.

 

Perhaps she knows. Perhaps she understands.

 

And now she doesn’t want.

 

Want what?

 

What have either of us wanted?

 

She just wants to save this forest.

 

I just want to save this forest.

 

*

 

I think it’s too late.

 

Tonight, Sana presses her lips to my cheek, giving me a gentle peck, then pulls away and tells me she’s wanted to do that ever since I told her I’d go with her to cure this sick forest.

 

There’s a promise hidden there, even I can tell it apart from all of the other things she’s told me.

 

I feel it burn inside me, those words, Sana’s eyes, the heat, the flames, at my own strong-willed heart. I feel it —feel it fill me. Devour my bones, wrap around my muscles.

 

It cannot let go…

 

I cannot let go…

(And I do not want to be forgotten…)

 

*

 

«Dahyun.»

 

Sana calls out my name behind me.

 

I stop in my tracks to look over my shoulder, seeing Sana standing at the bottom of a mountain path.

 

«Let’s go back.» She says.

 

«Back? I thought you wanted me to save this forest?»

 

«I do. But not like this.»

 

Sana shakes her head, then walks up to me, taking my hand.

 

I look back up at the mountain path, hearing the slow-beating heart of this forest, hearing it call out to me. The pain in its voice urges me up, up, up, until I no longer feel the weight of Sana’s hand in mine; only the cold wind pressing against my face.

 

*

 

Roots and vines lay dead on the ground. Grey and wilted. Death and decay. We must go deeper to reach the heart.

 

Sana grabs my arm this time, hard. Her eyes are sharp, boring into mine. Her jaw is tight with tension —tension that fills the air between us until I can’t stand it any longer.

 

I look away, pull away, walk away.

 

The wind spirit on my shoulder coos, burying its face in my neck. It knows as much as I do. It understand as much as I do. It has accepted what I have.

 

Sana follows a few steps behind us until we see the heart of the forest: a large tree with long heavy branches that fall like a curtain, touching the forest floor.

 

A deep blue rock shines from within the tree, pulsating slowly. The forest inhales and exhales, and the entire world breathes with it. 

 

The wind spirit coos again, then slides off my shoulder, falling onto the ground.

 

Sana is quickly beside me, kneeling on the ground as she cradles the wind spirit in her hands.

 

«What’s wrong?» She whispers frantically.

 

«Nothing’s wrong.» I say with a smile, feeling the bitterness rising in my mouth, sizzling on my tongue.

 

Sana frowns, pulling the wind spirit closer to her chest. She shakes her head, her lips part, then she slams them together again and looks away.

 

«It doesn’t feel right.» She whispers.

 

I take in a deep breath, feeling something pounding in my chest, rattling against my ribcages.

 

«I did this before in the past. Enough times to where it became a certainty, one of the few things I could trust would happen. But then it all stopped, suddenly — at a moment in time — everything was still. Quiet. The Green Forest bloomed and grew around me, with it the wind spirits came to live with me. So many years passed. I lost track.»

 

I scratch my throat, suddenly feeling it clamp up.

 

«This is what I do, Sana. You mustn’t forget that. It’ll be all right.»

 

Sana gazes at me. I see small adjustments on her features, the creases, the lines, the doubt and the sadness. The wind spirit is almost unmoving in her hands. Suddenly, it lets out a strangled sound, a tiny hiccup, and Sana gently places it on the ground where it eventually dies.

 

Its body crumbles, leaving behind a small pile of white flakes.

 

Sana stands and wipes her hands on her legs, then crosses her hands over her chest. She looks at me then, and I suddenly want to embrace her, kiss her cheeks, her forehead, the corner of , her lips: feel it all before I give this forest my heart.

 

She looks beyond me, at the blue rock that shines inside the tree. She steps closer to me and the tree and stretches out her arm.

 

«Don’t touch it.» I say, my voice sharper than intended. Sana retracts, folding her hands in front of her. «The forest will take you, root you to the ground, vines will crawl up your legs, flowers will sprout from your fingertips, and you’ll be devoured. The forest will never let you go.»

 

«Would that be so bad?» Sana says.

 

I bite my tongue.

 

«I’d be like you, wouldn’t I?» Sana tilts her head to the side. «It’s the truth, isn’t it?»

 

I turn away from her.

 

There’s a crack in the wood. I place my hands on either side of the opening and begin to rip it open, feeling the bark peel away.

 

«What are you doing?» Sana asks, touching my shoulder.

 

«Giving it what it wants.»

 

Sana’s hand is gone the moment the words leave my mouth.

 

I focus on reaching the heart and removing enough of the bark so that I can reach in and touch the decaying blue heart. I want to believe that when I look over my shoulder, Sana will be gone.

 

She’ll leave. That’s the most reasonable thing to do. She’ll go back to her village and live out the rest of her days with her family. She’ll have her forest and she’ll be happy.

 

The heart glows, once, twice, then the glow begins to fade and I reach out. I’m only an inch away when I glance over my shoulder and notice Sana’s still here, watching me.

 

«It’ll take yours.» Sana whispers. «You knew all along.»

 

«Yes, it’ll take me.» I say, smiling.

 

I’ve always known this, a deep part of me has kept the truth locked away, but I’ve always known this is how it ends. There’ll be another Green Forest right here. I’m sure of it. And there’ll be more wind spirits. And I’m sure they’ll keep me company.

 

The heart of the forest is cold against my fingertips. The heart stops glowing, then veins reach out of the heart, wrapping around my fingertip, then my wrist. It crawls up my arm like a spiral.

 

I feel it covering my chest, keeping me rooted in place, then the veins pry open my mouth and I feel them entering me, reaching towards my beating heart. It’s cold. The veins brush against me, making me shiver.

 

Sana watches me. I search her eyes; I see nothing but acceptance in hers.

 

I feel myself slipping away. I am here now but soon I’ll be gone.

 

Sana touches my cheek, her fingers have always been soft, her touch has always been gentle.

 

The blue veins grip my heart and lifts it out of my chest, then my heart is placed inside the tree.

 

The wind returns to the forest a moment later and gently pulls at my skin, telling me I must go. Soon I am being dragged away, but I do not forget, cannot let myself forget.

 

I look at Sana one last time, noticing her eyes, and then suddenly I think to myself how pretty they are; much prettier than the stars, much prettier than the moon, much prettier than anything that has ever walked this earth. I don’t think I’ll ever forget them.

 

«It’s like snow.» Sana whispers as I fade away; like white pollen being scattered across a field.