Chapter Fifteen

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THERE WAS A tree located in the middle of the lake in the mountains.

A single pine tree left alone on its own block of land, separated from any surrounding trees by blue waters and a small wooden bridge. This was a place for fishing: standing under the its pointed leaves for shade and leaning against it when there was no fish to catch.

But it was the night now. There were midnight fish swimming calmly under the moon, and I was not in the mood to struggle with bait.

So I leaned against this lonely pine tree. I felt the bark against my back and watched nature in its sleep. The quarry was at a distance; I could make out different sized rocks and the glint of gems inside of them.

But they were not the only things shining. If I squinted closer, I could see pairs of eyes in the dark. Tiny, bead-like eyes watching me from bushes, up in trees, across the lake. They were the junimos.

I laughed out loud, too bitter for the sweet innocent junimos. "Stop looking at me! Go back to your homes, or wherever you all sleep in." The eyes remained in place, did not move. They continued staring.

I sighed and closed my eyes, hoping that it would block out the stares of these tiny creatures.

The junimos always intrigued me. They were creatures that were part of this magical world that lurked in the Valley. These creatures, they helped restore the community centre—a building that looked on the verge of collapsing—and made it look new again. They helped this little town flourish; they kept stability. And yet, the people here were completely unaware of the magic that surged through the town's veins.

It all made sense now, really. Why I always felt the feeling of being watched when I first came to town. I thought it was Grandpa, that somehow his spirit still lingered with me while dead, but no—it was them. The junimos.

And somehow... somehow I was their leader, their Queen. The thought of it made me sick. I didn't want this responsibility, the feeling of having beings—no, things—to take care of. Grandpa may have loved them as he did the Valley, but I was not him. I would never be like him even if I tried.

They were the reason why my parents left me. They were scared of me, their own daughter, simply because the junimos chose me. They may have wanted me to keep their balance, but I did not want them in return.

The junimos may try to follow me, but I would not deal with them. They were simply magical creatures and I was merely a farmer with a simple life. Yes, that was it.

Then soft sound of footsteps approached behind me: first the steps against the wooden boards, then the padded steps on the grass. I instantly scowled, opening my eyes. Great, now I had to deal with a junimo.

I shifted so I faced it with a glare, looking down. "Didn't I say to go back from wherever you—" The glare dropped as I realized there was no junimo there, and I glanced up to see exactly who it was. "Oh. You're not—never mind." I turned back around.

I heard Sebastian plop on the ground behind me, leaning against the opposite side of the tree. He didn't talk; neither did I. We both stared at nothing yet stared at everything. The world was in front of us in its glory. Nature was here in its beauty. And here we were, sitting in silence.

"Why are you here, Sebastian?" I asked quietly, watching the shadows of fish dip into the lake. "You of all people should know when someone wants to be left alone."

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