Chapter 24: Acclimation Grove

Excerpt 1: Our First Adventure: Emma’s Adventure book.

Olive went off to prepare some sort of surprise, so I figured I could get started using you. though a fairy ring is a strange place to start writing. Olive says the fairies have been gone for a long time, but it still feels strange to be alone in the forest. It is beautiful here. Just… a little eerie.

probably should have started at the beginning.

The sun was barely up when I went to meet Olive at the edge of the village. I woke extra early to finish my chores so I would not be late, but I rushed so much that I could not find my shoes anywhere. I had to wear sandals instead. I hoped she would not scold me for it, and so far, she has not.

Olive was already there, bouncing lightly on her heels like she was trying not to burst with excitement.

I tried not to stare, but it was difficult. She wore a green tunic and dark brown leggings that made her blend into the forest behind her, with sturdy boots laced all the way up her calves. A lightweight cloak rested over her shoulders, the hood pushed back so I could see her chestnut-brown hair. She had made a little crown of wildflowers, and it suited her so well it almost hurt to look at. Her satchel bumped softly against her hip when she moved.

I’m still not sure how formal I was supposed to be with my greeting, considering her family’s position in the village.

But that is not important.

What is important is that she said my outfit looked perfect. Not fine. Not practical. Perfect. She did not even mention the sandals, which have made walking on the forest ground a bit difficult.

I told her she looked great too, which felt foolish the moment I said it. She looked like someone from an old adventure book. Not the hero, but the one the hero meets by a river. The one who knows all the hidden paths.

She laughed softly and said she hoped the flowers were not too much, that she did not want to offend any forest fairies.

Almost told her she was as pretty as one.

Instead, I blurted out that she looked lovely, which was only slightly less embarrassing.

Luckily, she turned and started walking out of town, which gave me a moment to calm down.

As we walked, she gave me you. Property of Olive had been scratched out and replaced with Emma’s Adventure Book! I do not think she meant for that to feel as important as it did, but it did. She gave me one of her notebooks!

She said she thought it would be fun to keep track of the creatures we find.

Which I suppose I am already failing at, since I have spent this entire time writing about how we met instead of the adventure itself.

Oh no. What if she asks to read this?

I should probably put you away before she comes back.

***

OLIVE

In front of us, a large, unsettling stone wall loomed ahead, its unnaturally smooth surface clashing with the forest around it.

“This is one of the few structures in the forest,” I told Emma as we followed the wall until we reached the storehouse. It was a simple thing, barely distinguishable from the wall itself except where it protruded slightly. The door had a puzzle lock set into it, and I showed Emma how to match the shapes to open it.

Beyond the gate, the forest sounds fell away at once.

Inside, a soft blue glow lit the storehouse, cast by moontouched mushrooms along the walls. A wooden table with matching chairs sat in the center.

“This is our storehouse,” I told Emma. I gestured to the cabinets lining the walls. “Those are full of food for the plants and animals.”

“You feed the forest animals from here? All of them?” she asked, shocked.

I nearly tripped. “Um, no.” I took a breath. I needed to remember this was her first time in a forest, if I wanted her to fall in love with it. “This isn’t for the forest itself. This is an acclimation grove.”

I gestured toward a bulletin and a collection of notes. “We bring new additions here and get them used to the environment.”

I picked up a worn notebook and handed it to her. “Those are all the plants and animals we have in here. Once we are sure they do not get sick, can reproduce properly, and do not react badly with the rest of the forest, they can be released.”

She flipped through the pages carefully. “And this is…?”

“All the endangered or newly introduced species that have already been released,” I said as she stared at the hundreds of entries.

“This is an insane amount.”

“Well, it is a bit dubious,” I admitted. “That includes variations, subspecies, and multiple species within the same genus.”

She looked up at me. “…?”

“For example, there are over fifty types of olive trees in this forest, with Arbolive being its own subspecies. And bugs. Insects. Flowers.” I stopped her at a page. “See? This entire page is just beetles.”

“So your family just keeps adding new animals to the forest,” she said slowly. “Couldn’t that mess with the ecosystem or something?”

“Of course it could,” I said, “which is why we have the acclimation grove and the release ring…”

Her stomach growled loudly.

“…Which I guess I will explain later,” I added, as she hid her face behind her hands.

***

The forest deepened around us as the trail narrowed and the air cooled. The golden rays of morning softened into pale afternoon light, filtering down in thin bands through the canopy. Ahead, the trees opened just enough to reveal a narrow creek, its clear water sliding over smooth stones and catching the light as it curved past the clearing. Ferns and low flowering plants crowded its banks, their leaves trembling as the current shifted.

We stepped into a soft clearing where sunlight pooled on the mossy ground like warm syrup. The silence here was not empty. It was layered with chirps, distant wingbeats, and the constant hush of water over stone. Near the creek, a giant lily pad spread low and wide, its thick pads overlapping like cushions. The surface was springy underfoot, cool and faintly scented, made for resting rather than walking.

At the center sat a woven picnic basket, already waiting.

I slowed, stretching my arms overhead, watching Emma take it in, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Let’s stop here for lunch,” I said, as if that was not the plan, already slinging off my satchel.

I led her down the path by the creek until we reached the lily pad. I climbed onto it carefully. It bobbed under my weight. I held out my hand.

She hesitated. “This is…”

“I know,” I said.

I grabbed her hand. Soft. And pulled her up.

I sat beside her. The lily pad dipped again, its edges brushing the water as it settled. I pulled out two soft kelp-wrapped burritos, untied the twine, and handed one to Emma.

“It smells amazing,” she said, lifting it to her nose.

I peeled the kelp back, revealing the leaf wrap beneath.

“Wait. What is this made of?” she asked.

“The wrap is from the Sunbite Tree over there.” I pointed across the creek to a broad tree on the far bank, its leaves green underneath and red on top. “The top side tastes spicy, so that is the part on the inside.”

She adjusted her grip automatically.

“Try not to touch your eyes afterward,” I added. “It stings.”

She shot me a look, then nodded.

“For the filling, I used peas from a Deepbean Vine.” I pointed to a massive pod hanging nearby, easily six feet long and nearly three wide. “The peas are small, but they taste more like beans.”

She stared at it. Her stomach growled again.

“…Of course they do.”

I smiled. “The crunch is bark from the Shear Tree. It has to be shorn every so often, like wool. Inside, it has a liquid that is a little sweet and tangy. And the warmth comes from Embercap.”

Her eyes dropped to the burrito, then back to me.

“And to hold it together,” I said, “there is slime from a Curdslug. I know it looks a little gross, but it tastes a lot like cheese.”

“Slime?” she hesitated.

I waited.

With a resigned sigh, she took a careful bite. Her eyebrows shot up.

“…Oh,” she said. Then, after another bite, “That is actually really good.”

I took a bite of mine.

Next, I grabbed the lemonade flask I had taken from the storehouse.

“Cheers,” I said, passing it to her.

Emma took a long drink and blinked. “Is this… fizzy?”

“Just a little fermented. Dad’s trick. If you let it sit overnight with lemonbark and berry mint, it bubbles up on its own.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Why does your family make everything ten times cooler than it needs to be?”

“Because we can.”

I studied Emma’s face as we enjoyed our meal.