katherinetheguardian

Lost Things || Katya & Katherine

A peculiar wind blew throughout the trees, and that often meant excitement. The birds were chittering away with each other, even the ferns and bushes along the forrest floor seemed to bristle with glee! It was all like they knew something the spirit who wandered in their wake didn’t, and refused to tell. A green head of hair darted about, this way and that fussing over small things, picking a big bouquet of flowers to adorn her bed with when she decided to return to the great tree.

One she could carry no more, she plopped herself down in the soft long grass. She began to weave the flowers together, stem to stem. Her thumb poked the tiniest hole then slid the next in until the petals touched. Before long a pattern emerged, she was making a garland this time. The flowers were tightly packed together and hardly a ‘stitch’ could be seen. 

She held up her work to properly admire it. A few more rows and she might even be able to wrap it around one of the lower branches of Yggdrasil. It was unlikely that she’d ever be able to make a strand long enough to wrap the trunk, at least with out using her magic. 

Katya held the two ends of the string of flowers and focused on it, in a moment it was much smaller, small enough to be a bracelet. Useful for carrying long distances in the woods. This was generally what she did with all of the lost things she found. As soon as something caught her eye she knew she had to keep it for a while, inspect it’s every angle, then let it back to be free in the world. 

Lost things. That seemed to be what was on the tip of the leaves, as the trees swayed. In their own language of soft winds and subtle shakes they chatted about how today was not just a day for things, but whos. 

Katya tried to listen in, after eight-hundred years of dropping eaves on them she’d learned a bit about their dialect. Someone was coming, someone special, someone very important! The girl just had absolutely no idea who it could be. 

From the pages of a small and worn journal that had to be translated from Golden Age text before being read.

~?

Katherine

Katherine, my Katherine. I called you that to my Tsar once… Did you know?… No… Never tell. Never say.

Too much left between us…

I watch you still… Even if it hurts.

My Katherine.

Please forgive me.

There is a hint of diamond dust on the edge of the page.