The Forest's Lesson

The forest felt warm. Not gentle—wild warm. Like the kind that sticks to your skin and makes you keep your hand on your weapon just in case. Under a thick ceiling of green, sunspots flickered across the ground. Vines draped from trees like lazy arms. Behind them, the waves on the rocky shore still muttered their goodbyes. Andravion barely glanced back.

Andravion and Haleel stepped beneath a canopy of emerald. Sunlight filtered through thick clusters of leaves, casting dappled gold on the undergrowth. Vines coiled like idle snakes around thick trunks, and the rustle of unseen animals echoed all around—curious, distant, untamed.

Andravion kept one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other brushing away low branches as he moved forward in silence, eyes sharp. His movements were precise, purposeful—too purposeful. Each step was more of a march than a walk, as if war had followed him into the trees.

Haleel, a few steps behind, watched for a moment and then rolled his eyes. With zero warning, he lunged forward and threw an arm around Andravion's shoulder.

"Relax, will you?" Haleel laughed. "You're wound tighter than a war drum."

Andravion blinked, confused. "Huh?" He glanced sideways, his brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?" He made a half-hearted attempt to shrug him off, but Haleel stayed firmly latched.

"I mean you've been moving like the trees might attack us," Haleel said, still smiling. "You're not on the battlefield anymore, you know."

"I don't see how that's your concern," Andravion muttered, but there wasn't much weight behind it. He glanced ahead again, eyes avoiding Haleel's.

"You're my concern," Haleel said simply. "And I'm not letting go until you breathe. Just once. Deeply."

"Quit being a pest," Andravion grumbled.

"And you quit being a stubborn ass with a martyr complex," Haleel shot back, voice low but sharp. He sighed, his voice gentler now "I remember the fool who couldn't hold in a laugh during prayer and got dunked in a trough for it. Where did that boy go, Vion?"

Andravion's jaw tightened—but not in anger. Something else flickered across his face. Regret, maybe. Memory.

"I'm fine, Hal."

The words were automatic, meant to soothe, to deflect. But then he paused, eyes scanning the shadow-dappled forest ahead before settling somewhere distant.

"I just…" he began again, his voice lower. "I can't afford to let my guard down."

Haleel's smile faded, but the warmth didn't. "You don't have to drop it all," he said. "Just enough. Enough to be human."

He took a step forward, brushing aside a leaf that had drifted between them. "Think of everything we've been through. Every ambush, every god-cursed storm, every bloodbath. And yet… we're still here. We survived everything we stumbled into. Together."

Andravion didn't respond. His shoulders remained stiff, jaw locked, hand still resting lightly—yet firmly—on his sword hilt.

Haleel sighed, then stepped in front of him, forcing him to halt. He placed both hands on Andravion's shoulders and looked him dead in the eye.

"I know you're tired," he said. "Tired of the blood, the marching, the fear. You don't have to say it—I see it every time you stare too long at nothing."

Andravion's brow furrowed, but Haleel pressed on, voice quiet but firm.

"But isn't it behind us now? The war. The bloodshed. And its finally over—if we've actually bought ourselves a moment of peace—is this how you want to live it? Still wrapped in armor that no one's even striking at?"

He took a step back and gestured broadly to the trees, then pointed directly at Andravion's hand. "You haven't let go of that sword since we entered this forest."

Andravion looked down, as if just realizing the truth of it. His fingers remained curled around the hilt, not out of threat—but habit. Muscle memory. Trauma.

Haleel let the silence settle like dust between ancient roots.

"Why do we always take? We've been taking for five years straight. Blood. Land. Lives. Maybe it's time we give something back."

Andravion frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Huh." He blinked confusedly. "Take? Give?"

"My brother I'm no stranger to that side of war. "

"The side that keeps you drowning in desolation and soon darkness and the madness it accompanies becomes your mistress."

"Five bloody years, Vion. That's how long we've been drowning in it. And I don't know about you… but I'm done. I want something else. Something new."

"I'm not saying it's gonna be easy like some wave of hand but I'm gonna start small. By giving."

"Giving trust," Haleel said. "Peace. A chance to rest."

He stepped forward, slow and sure, not pushing—just present.

"All this time, we've lived like we had to earn survival. Like if we weren't fighting, we were failing. But now it's different now. Maybe we finally have something to offer instead of just protect."

Andravion looked away, jaw working silently.

Haleel sighed

"Look what I'm trying to tell your stony stubborn ass is, you don't always have to brace for the next strike," Haleel continued. "Not with me. Not here

Or anywhere. Not anymore."

He lifted a hand, not to grab, just to gesture—to open. "You can show someone you trust them when you stop and lower your guard. That's the gift you give when the war is over."

His voice dipped lower, like a truth shared only between old friends and forest shadows.

"After everything we've survived, maybe healing doesn't come from holding on. Maybe it comes from choosing to let go—just a little."

He moved closer towards Andravion and gave him a persuasive but beaming smile. "C'mon. Just give it a try. It's as easy as walking and you have me here to teach you how."

Andravion didn't move for a long moment. The forest pulsed around them—alive, unthreatening. And slowly, as if unlearning something buried in bone, his fingers eased from the hilt.

He stood still, the hush of the forest wrapping around him like a warm cloak. For the first time, he let himself look up—past the trees, past the tangled thoughts—into the open sky. Light streamed through in golden shards, dappled and dancing.

He breathed in.

"I guess you're right…" he murmured. "This life can be amazing… when you greet it with open arms."

A beat passed.

Then—

"That's my boy!" Haleel whooped, breaking the hush with a grin that could split the clouds. He threw his arms out wide like he could embrace the whole forest, the whole world. "There you go!"

He spun on his heel and kept walking ahead, calling back over his shoulder, "Whatever we face—whatever mess this world throws at us—we'll meet it. With heart. With fire. With light."

He paused, turning back just enough for Andravion to catch his eyes.

"But it starts here. Right here. With greeting the world like it's not just something we survive—but something worth loving. With open arms."

Suddenly the warm moment shatters when they hear ruffling in the bushes and some in the trees. It seemed like the noise was coming from all around. Instantly reminding them of something painfully familiar.

An ambush.