The Heartless
Chapter XVI: in which the winter melts into spring

Somewhere amid the nagging guilt and restlessness swirling in my chest, I managed to find some semblance of peace in Verdigris. Winter descended thick and heavy on the commune in the form of blankets of white snow that piled high outside the frosted windowpanes. As I got my strength back, I took it upon myself to make sure there was always wood in the stove and a decent stockpile outside. Basil helped Frida in the clinic, and from time to time we’d take beleaguered and meandering walks through the snowdrifts bundled up in hats and scarves to attend meetings in the central square. With his penchant for conflict resolution, Basil was often at the forefront of these meetings, slipping easily into philosophical preaching that always seemed to smooth things over. On one occasion, it dawned on me that his tree-stump declaration that fateful day hadn’t been entirely for naught, and I chuckled under my breath at the thought, earning an odd look from Frida beside me. I had once viewed my best friend as someone never meant to stay still; he was larger than life, a big fish in a small pond. When we were children, Basil always seemed like his personality was too big for his body. But looking at him now, alight with hope and pride for his community, it was clear to me that he was exactly where he was meant to be, and it was I who had outgrown my own bones and learned to run from them.

The people of Verdigris, in line with Basil’s own experiences, embraced me as one of their own almost immediately, despite the temporary nature of my residency. There was a seamstress who would trip over her own feet to repair or replace my clothes without even being asked, and a brother and sister pair who taught me my way around a blade in exchange for help repairing their roof after the heavy snowfall busted a hole into their kitchen. There were a handful of smaller children living in the commune who had grown up there, and a selfish part of me envied them for having never believed they were broken, for never being told they could be fixed. The better part of me was hopeful for a future in which that would always be true.

All the while, I was planning anxiously for my return to the Village of the Heartless. It would be a long journey, travelling south from Verdigris and circling all the way around the far outskirts of Amistadia as to avoid being spotted and recognized by the wrong people.

Eventually, the snow melted, and the days began to grow longer. The trees blossomed and the community garden sprouted with new growth. Basil relied less heavily on the use of his cane as the weather grew warmer, and I began to feel renewed strength in my body after several months of healing, working, and resting. I spent the days preparing in earnest, taking runs and walks through the woods to remind my muscles what it felt like to travel under cover of foliage and by the light of the sun, moon, and stars, charting the best route through largely unfamiliar territory with Basil’s eager assistance.

When the day came, Frida gifted me a new bag to replace the one I had lost in the stabbing, and the entire town saw to it that I was fully prepared for the trip ahead of me. Weighed down with supplies and well-wishes, I bid Verdigris farewell on an early spring morning, with the blessing of those who barely knew me and hope for a brighter day shining brightly overhead.

“Will you be coming back?” Basil asked hopefully.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” I admitted. “Things could be very different. I don’t want to make a promise I may not be able to keep.”

Frida tutted in displeasure.

“Now, don’t be so fatalist!” she scolded, fussing over me for the fourth time that morning. “If you keep a good head about you, you’ll be fine.”

“I’m just being honest,” I retorted, swatting her hands away halfheartedly.

“Frida’s right,” Basil piped up.

I scowled at him in mock betrayal, but he only smirked.

“Just don’t be an idiot this time, and I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”

“Implying that being an idiot is what put me in this situation,” I grumbled, and to my dismay, neither Basil nor Frida denied it. I was about to gripe about it when Frida threw her arms around me, turning my indignant protest into a startled squeak on the tip of my tongue.

“Please be safe,” she murmured.

“I will,” I reassured her, returning her embrace once I recovered from my shock.

Frida gave me one last squeeze before releasing me and heading back to the house with one final warning not to overdo it, and Basil and I were left alone.

A beat passed. Then, Basil chuckled dismally and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. Save for the distant chirping of birds, there was only silence for a moment as we stood there and I wondered if this was the last time we’d ever see one another.

“Well,” Basil broke the silence first, taking his hand from his pocket and holding it out to me. It shook, just ever so slightly. “I guess this is—”

Without another breath, I leapt forward and flung my arms around him and tried to imprint the moment in my mind for eternity. Basil made a small sound of surprise before he huffed a shaky laugh and returned the gesture.

“We never got a chance to say goodbye last time,” I said by way of explanation. “So, this is for then, too.”

“Be careful out there, yeah?” Basil urged in response. “But I meant what I said. You’ll come back fine.”

“Are you really sure about that?”

“No.” Basil pulled back from the hug so he could look me in the eyes. “But you managed to come crawling back into my life before, so you can do it again. It doesn’t matter how long it takes; you’ll be back.”

“I wish I could promise you this wasn’t going to be goodbye forever,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to, Ace.” Basil grinned mightily. “Because I don’t know the meaning of ‘forever’.”

After more than two weeks, I found myself in mostly-familiar territory, having reached the outer limits of the Village of the Heartless. Not far from here was the clearing where Petra and I used to have target practice, and the grove where I sometimes came with Marley to gather lumber.

The foliage was thicker than I remembered, with dark, newly sprouting vines that snaked their way from tree branch to tree branch and made travelling far slower than I’d anticipated. The thought of seeing Petra again fueled me, day and night. I wondered how she’d react to the truth.

Bertrand was a different story. I had not left things on a positive note, and I feared that returning after so long with news that he had spent his entire life attempting to break a curse that never existed would fracture our relationship for good.

When I cut through the remaining branches and broke through into the clearing, my blood ran cold.

Where my humble Village of the Heartless once stood lay nothing but charred piles of rubble, entire livelihoods left crumbling to ruins in the dirt. There were no carefully tended gardens, no drying clothes swaying on the line in the breeze, no chickens pecking for worms in the grass. It was the quietest I’d ever seen it—like death itself had come in and made the village its home.

The whole village had disappeared.

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