Page 22 of Must Love Moss and Moonshine (Moonshine Hollow)

KELLEN

I didn’t allow myself to feel anything as I led Tansy and Bromir to the hollow tree.

I didn’t allow myself to feel anything when I returned to the road, dispelled the bedazzlement from the ranger, and sent him on his way.

I didn’t allow myself to feel anything while I spoke to the brownie elders, hearing their apologies and promises to address the misbehavior of their youths.

I did all these things because they were my responsibilities as the Guardian of Silver Vale.

This forest had been my life for so long that its rhythms were second nature.

I knew how to focus on duty and block everything else out.

But the moment I closed the door to my cottage, my composure cracked.

The weight I had carried all day pressed down on me with unbearable force.

I let out a shuddering breath as I sank onto the bench by my kitchen table. Tears welled in my eyes, catching me off guard.

She had told me she wanted to leave the road. She had said she was staying in Moonshine Hollow for the winter and asked me to come talk to her. She had made it clear that she cared for me and wanted me. Yet now that she was gone, why did I feel so hollow?

Marvelle chirped softly from his perch on the edge of the table.

On the table sat Sylvie’s—no, Tansy’s —belt.

She had left it behind in my haste to see her home.

My haste, not hers . Sighing, I scattered a few acorns for Marvelle, but even the squirrel seemed listless.

He picked through the acorns halfheartedly before leaving them behind, hopping off the table, and climbing onto the bed.

There, he curled up on the blanket Tansy had used just the day before.

He sniffed at it, his tiny nose twitching, then rested his head, letting out a small sigh.

I watched him and felt my chest tighten. He missed her. Her warmth. Her voice. Her laughter. He missed the presence she’d brought to this cabin, the spark of life that lit up this quiet, shadowed forest corner.

I stared at my hands, rough and calloused from years of tending the forest. I thought of the vibrant world she came from, full of music, laughter, and companionship.

Her caravan was a place of connection, celebration, and joy.

Her world was shifting, ever-changing. I looked out the window, seeing the light of the silvery moon.

Tansy was like the moonshine…and I, well, I was moss.

She was light and movement, shifting like the moon’s silver glow, illuminating everything she touched.

Always glimmering, but never the same. I was rooted and still, clinging to the same stone for years.

She moved, and I stayed as I was. What right did I have to ask her to stay in my world of shadows when hers was so full of life?

“What do I do, Marvelle?” I whispered, my voice breaking and tears streaming down my cheek.

The squirrel twitched an ear but didn’t lift his head.

The truth was, the moment Bromir arrived, I’d felt the old hardness return.

The walls I had built long ago to protect myself from loneliness came rushing back, closing me off from the ache of her leaving.

It was easier this way, I told myself. If I let her go, she could live her bright, expansive life without the weight of my solitude dragging her down.

But that wasn’t what I wanted.

What I wanted was to hold her close. I wanted to go to Moonshine Hollow and tell her how I really felt.

Instead, I had let the hardness in me rise up and take over, coloring our last exchange with hesitation and retreat. I had seen the confusion and hurt in her eyes as she left. She had reached for me, and I had pulled away, my own doubts and fears drowning out everything else.

Glimmer.

That was the word she’d used when her memories began returning.

I’d known what she meant. Among my kind, the glimmer was the recognition of a soul’s twin, a deep bond beyond words or logic.

And yet, doubt clawed at me. What if my loneliness had blinded me?

What if I had fallen in love with the first woman to show me warmth after years of solitude? Was it love, or was it desperation?

I buried my face in my hands and wept. For the first time in years, I felt the absence of my kin acutely. Dryads were meant to live in connection with the forest, but not with one another. But I had been alone for so long. Perhaps too long. I needed the advice of someone who knew our ways.

Marvelle stirred, lifting his head from the blanket and looking at me with dark, questioning eyes.

“I need to go for a while,” I told him, quietly. “I won’t be gone more than a few hours. If there’s any trouble, the forest will let me know.”

He chirped softly and settled back into the folds of the blanket, his small presence a bittersweet comfort.

I rose and went outside, the crisp autumn air stinging my face as I stepped into the twilight.

The world smelled of damp leaves and pine, the forest alive with the whispers of the evening wind.

I approached the hollow tree, placing my hand against its rough bark.

The wood was cool beneath my palm, but the magic within thrummed faintly, a living heartbeat.

“Brunndale,” I whispered.

The tree began to glow faintly. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the hollow, letting the forest’s ancient magic pull me away.

* * *

The cold hit me the moment I stepped through the hollow tree into Brunndale, the forested island located to the north in the Frost Islands.

Snow blanketed the forest floor, untouched and shimmering under the pale light filtering through the pines.

The air was sharp, biting at my skin, and the scent of frost and pine sap filled my lungs.

I pulled my cloak tighter, my boots crunching softly against the packed snow as I made my way toward the cabin nestled under the great tree ahead.

A golden light flickered from the frosted windows, and smoke curled lazily from the chimney. Just as I reached the door, it opened, and Aelderin stepped out. His pale green eyes fixed on me with warmth and surprise.

“Kellen,” he said, his voice as deep and steady as the roots beneath the snow. “I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s been a long time.”

I bowed my head slightly. “It has, Elder. I thought it was time to visit an old friend.”

He smiled, though his gaze was sharp. “And you’ve come all this way just for a friendly chat?” He chuckled softly. “Come inside before you freeze solid.”

The warmth of his cabin was immediate, sinking into my bones. The scent of dried herbs and pine resin hung in the air, mingling with the crackle of the fire in the hearth. He gestured for me to sit near the fire, then poured me a mug of nettle tea.

“How fares Silver Vale?” he asked as he settled into his chair. “Still thriving under your care?”

“It’s strong,” I said, grateful for the safe topic. “The moonshine flowers bloomed well this season. The brownies… Well, they keep things interesting.”

He laughed, the sound like the creak of an old tree. “Brownies always do. And how are you, Kellen?” I heard the tone of suspicion in his voice. The elder leaned toward me, his weathered face studying me.

Although I had come here for help, I hesitated. I sipped my tea and stared into the fire. “Nothing of great importance. Just the usual challenges of being a guardian.”

Aelderin raised a brow. “The usual challenges don’t bring you halfway across the world in the middle of winter. Come now, out with it, youngling.”

I felt my resolve break. I set my mug down and looked up at him. “I think I’ve fallen in love.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze steady and unreadable. “Go on,” he said, his tone curious but not unkind.

“She’s a Sylvan. She… She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “I see.”

I swallowed hard, the words tumbling out. “The forest let her through. She was injured and needed my care. A connection developed between us. But what if I’ve convinced myself it’s love because I’ve been alone for so long? Our solitude can play tricks on us. Have you ever felt…lonely?”

“Often,” he said with a light laugh. He leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees. “When you’re with her, do you feel at peace?”

“Yes. More than I have in years.”

“And does she seem at peace with you?”

“She does,” I said. “But she has a life, one filled with friends, a thriving business, and a caravan of people who love her. What can I offer her? A lonely forest and an empty cabin?”

Aelderin’s eyes softened. “You offer her yourself, Kellen.”

“But what if that’s not enough?”

“What if it is?”

“What if I’m just lonely?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Loneliness can make us doubt even the truest things. But love… Love is not about what we lack. It’s about what we’re willing to give. If this Sylvan has brought light into your world, perhaps it’s because you bring it to hers . Don’t let fear blind you.”

His words settled in my chest like a stone, heavy but grounding. I nodded, though my heart still felt tangled.

Aelderin rose and took the mug from my hand.

“We all grow lonely from time to time, youngling. But we don’t all have the fortune of falling in love.

Maybe meeting this woman was not coincidence.

Maybe your forest knew what you needed and brought it to you.

If she passed through the enchantments, there must be a reason. And love is a very good reason.”

I rose and took Aelderin’s hand. “Thank you, Elder.

“Of course,” he replied then led me to the door.

I paused a moment before I departed. “Elder Aelderin, if you don’t mind me asking, have you ever been in love?”

“Many times,” he replied with a laugh. “It gets damned cold in Brunndale in the winter, and the hollow trees exit on many beautiful, sunny beaches where one just might find a merwoman waiting.”

“Elder,” I said in surprise.

He laughed. “I’ve had many warm nights, young Kellen, but a mate for life…that is something else. Don’t linger here with me. You have more important matters to attend to,” he said then opened the door.

“Thank you, Elder.”

“Be well, Kellen. And bring your Sylvan to meet me.”

“I will.” I slipped back into the frozen forest to the hollow tree near Elder Aelderin’s cottage. I set my hand on the tree, willing myself home, my heart full of hope.

* * *

When I returned to my cabin, the warmth of the hearth greeted me, but the emptiness of the space hit harder than before. Marvelle chirped from the bed, hopping to the edge as I set down my cloak. He looked at me, his fuzzy expression questioning.

I sat down at the table and picked up Tansy’s belt. I opened one of the pouches, finding the forest quartz inside. I held it up, letting the firelight dance across its greens, golds, and browns. It shimmered like sunlight through leaves, alive with the memory of her.

“This,” I told Marvelle, “would make a beautiful ring.”

The squirrel chirped enthusiastically.

“You think so too?” I asked, managing a small smile.

Marvelle squeaked again, his tail flicking.

I smiled softly. “I know what to do. And I know just who to ask to help me.”

I set down the stone and rose and went to the bed.

Marvelle clicked questioningly at me. “Move aside, little one. I need to get my sleep. Tomorrow will be a very exciting day,” I said, unable to control the smile lighting up my face. My thoughts were filled with hope and determination. This time, I wouldn’t let fear hold me back.