Iris.

A Tribute to Princess Elle.

And I'd give up forever to touch you.

And I know that you feel me somehow.

You're closer to heaven than I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now.

Elle stalked the explorers. They were talking amongst themselves, deciding which way to go. But they didn't carry a Protect Bell; the maze of Norfest Forest would prove a graveyard for these ones too.

The girl who had been a princess stared between the foliage. She lived alone. These were the first humans she'd seen in years. She yearned to speak to them, to see their faces up close and touch their skin.

But no. The crimes she had committed were clear. She was a murderess. And she had a duty. No matter how she wanted to go back to the world of the living, this was her place now. The snows and winds and darkness of the fiends.

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life.

And sooner or later it's over.

I just don't want to miss you tonight.

Without taking her gaze away from the group, she bent down and picked up a handful of sticky mud. Her rough hands; once delicate, pristine ivory but now toughened and wind-burned from exposure. Living alone in the forest, her appearance had been the first thing to go, to give way to simple survival. The primal Elle was barely capable of understanding the words these explorers spoke.

Systematically, she smeared the mud on her exposed skin to reduce its visibility. Wind whistled through the trees; the sun was slowly sinking out of sight. The intruders were starting to catch the attention of the forest awareness. And once night fell, there was no hope.

And I don't want the world to see me,

Cos I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.

Elle pressed close; closer. This group wasn't like the last one she had seen—these weren't explorers! The party of five included an aging man, a woman who was obviously his wife...

And a girl-child. Wrapped in exotic-looking furs, her clothes cut in unfamiliar styles. Faint, faint memory stirred... from the time in Dragoon Castle...

A cold drop of sweat ran down Elle's back at that thought. This girl was from Tibet, the mountain country. A child... a child...

Elle knew she was taking a risk, but she had to get closer. She stopped no more than a foot away from the girl. She had no fear as the light dimmed; Elle knew the forest wouldn't touch her, but these would all die.

But not the child. Not the child, not if Elle could help it.

She stared enraptured and reached through the brush, wanting to touch her. Wanting to feel a heartbeat, feeling connected to this girl much more than the nameless parents and guides. She wanted to know what this child... could be.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.

Or the moment of truth in your lies.

When everything feels like the movies,

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive.

The loneliness of the years pushed in on her. Since... he... had left her in Storkholm, after the resurrection of the legendary hero, she had nothing. And gradually, she came to understand the wilderness in which she lived.

Why hadn't Storkholm fallen? Why had the wolves resided, but not destroyed anything? Why hadn't the trees taken over? Why hadn't the forest swallowed the empty village?

Now, Elle knew. The forest existed only to protect the village. The maze, the animals, the fiends. Their sole purpose was to keep intruders away from the legendary arms, the miraculous pike and breastplate of the true Hero. The communal awareness that guided them was merciless, and answered only to Storkholm's ruling blood. Elle was the only scion of that family, and thus the forest would go out of its way to preserve her.

But no-one else. He had proven himself over the forest on his first visit; the awareness knew when it was overmatched, and had allowed Elle to raise him as a child in the confusion of the resurrection. She lived alone; the forest allowed her no companions, even if she wanted them.

Even if she loved them.

And I don't want the world to see me,

Cos I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.

Her hand was just inches away from the child, slowly reaching, when she turned to stare into the trees suddenly. Elle melted out of sight instantly, and the girl gave a tiny scream and a deep sigh, thinking she had seen a spirit of the forest.

She wasn't right, but neither altogether wrong.

The sun dipped still lower. The adults in the group spoke more urgently amongst themselves as behind them, witchlights danced. The claws and teeth of the forest awareness had noticed them; they wouldn't last the night. Elle made up her mind in a moment.

"Chija!" the mother cried, horrified at seeing the dirty, ragged Elle leap from the underbrush and grab at her child. Her companions leveled weapons at her, but didn't know whether or not to fire. This didn't look like one of the fiends the old men in Loire had told them about.

"What are you waiting for? Save my baby!" the woman screamed, words that Elle could not recognise. She bared her teeth in response and leapt away, back into the trees, taking the child with her. Chija's mother screamed again and started to run after her, but stopped just before entering the brush.

White fangs and yellow eyes gleamed in the shadows.

Screams of agony rang out behind Elle as she ran, carrying the silent child. Chija was limp; Elle wondered if she was even conscious. She put her head down and ran harder towards Storkholm; she knew the forest wouldn't wait until the family was dead.
It was too hungry for that.

And I don't want the world to see me,

Cos I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am.

She nearly made it. Nearly ran across the bridge before the forest caught her. A pack of wolves paced her, flanked her, cut off her flight. One came into the open and growled; she knew what it wanted.

The soundless child she carried beneath her arm.

"You've had enough blood!" she screamed at it, in the last human words she could remember. This one doesn't need to die! The treasure of the village isn't there anymore!

But the forest couldn't understand that. It existed to protect Storkholm and it's people. No more, no others.

As she turned to run, the wolf lunged, tearing the flesh of her arm. Elle gasped; it was the first time the forest had ever harmed her. Normally even branches would bend out of her way so that she wouldn't scratch her face. But now the forest was getting serious, and wanted to finish it.

She whirled to another direction and ran. Ran and ran and ran...

And was neatly tackled to the ground by a wolf, no more than twenty meters later.

She cried with tears she didn't know she still had, as the wolves dragged Chija away from her and put an end to her perceived threat. Cried as blood stained the snow, cried as the wolf shook its red muzzle and splashed her face. Cried as another wolf trotted over to her, to tenderly lick the blood away, and to drop the girl's heavy fur coat in her lap.

The forest looked after Elle.

More red caught Elle's eye; she moved to dash it away, but her fingers caught. It wasn't blood but an old, old pressed flower. Somehow, Elle knew that this had been the girl's sole reason for living.

The wolves nudged her, trying to get her moving back to Storkholm. She stood up slowly, clutching the flower to her chest, and began walking home as she always would.

Alone.

'Iris' is owned by the Goo-Goo Dolls. I take no credit for the song lyrics.