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Behind Mapicc's house is a forest. Somewhere within eyeshot of his house is a small clearing cut in two by a stream, on the edge of the forest. Mapicc's parents used to tell him not to go into it.
"There's bad things out there," they'd say, and Mapicc always knew they were referring to tangible creatures, such as coyotes or wolves.
Mapicc would go into the forest anyway. His parents have long since stopped trying to keep him out, instead opting to give him fifteen minutes in the forest a day, so long as he never crosses the stream.
Mapicc is ten when he first encounters it. He's already been back from school, and when he finally finishes his homework on fractions, he decides to spend his last fifteen minutes before bed outside. The sun dips low in the sky as he makes his way to the stream.
There's a strange blur of movement before him. Then he sees the silhouette.
At first he thinks it's a human, and it really does look like one. It's crouched down on two legs, using one hand to support itself. It even has human-like hair and it's wearing clothing. It's facing the stream, peering into it. Facing away from the approaching ten year old. It looks human, but there's something wrong with it. Something Mapicc can't immediately place. When he takes a curious step closer to the figure, he realizes what it is.
In one swift, unnatural movement, it strikes the water with its free hand, and comes up with a glimmering red and gray fish. The fish squirms in place, but doesn't escape its grip. With a sharp, almost echoing crunch, it takes a bite. The fish goes still.
Mapicc goes almost as still as the fish. As the messy eating goes on, quiet but quick, rapid bites, the creature's tail begins swishing.
Mapicc hadn't even noticed it before, but its tail definitely eliminates all chances of this . . . thing being human. But now that he's looking closer, he can see it also bears a pair of long, spiraling horns. It makes Mapicc think of a dragon, if dragons had fur in place of scales.
As quietly as possible, Mapicc begins to creep forward. One step, then two, then five. He's almost close enough to see it, to really see it.
Snap!
Mapicc winces as he freezes in place. The creature freezes, too, before whipping around and coming face to face with Mapicc.
To say the least, Mapicc is shocked. But he's also intrigued. Its eyes are empty. Not a there's-no-light-in-them kind of empty, but a there's-nothing-in-them-but-light kind of empty. A glowing, mesmerizing kind of empty that Mapicc could stare at for hours.
The creature doesn't seem to share the same sentiment, however. It drops whatever is left of the fish and bolts, It's tail lashing behind It. Mapicc gasps as It splashes across the stream and away from him. Distantly, he realizes how tall It is.
"No! No – wait! Come back!" Mapicc calls, reaching a hand out to grasp at the empty air.
It has already disappeared into the shadows.
Mapicc takes a step into the stream, mindlessly going to follow It, when he hears the call.
"Mapicc!" It's his mother, beckoning him from the house. "Mapicc? Come inside, now!"
His fifteen minutes are up.
Mapicc enters the house that night with an incessant restlessness and a wet foot. He thinks his mother asks if he's been playing in the stream again. He doesn't remember if he responds.
He does remember that night that he dreams about a flickering, inky black figure with spiraling horns and glowing white eyes.
•••
The next day, Mapicc tries to tell his parents.
His father only sighs, "Aren't you a bit old for imaginary friends?"
"It's – It's not imaginary!" Mapicc splutters. He turns to his mother, "Mom, please!"
She's a little more inclined to believe him, but unfortunately not to the extent that Mapicc needs her to.
"It may have been a person, and the darkness was playing tricks on you," she says, not unkindly. "Whatever it was, let's stay out of the woods for a few days, okay?"
Mapicc huffs. He knows what he saw. Angrily, he storms into his room and slams the door.
As some sort of last hope, Mapicc tries to tell the other kids at school. They relatively say the same things, but at a scale much less kinder than Mapicc's mother.
Leowook tells him they're too old to believe it. Ashswag laughs and asks why he's lying for attention. Wemmbu says he probably miss-saw a deer or something, nudging and laughing with his friend Eggchan all the while. The only one somewhat nice about their disbelief was Parrot, but Mapicc doesn't think that guy could be rude about anything, even if he tried.
Embarrassed, Mapicc promises himself to never speak about It again.
He doesn't go out into the forest for the next two weeks, though some days curiosity burns a fire deep in his gut. Other days, it's doubt that churns and writhes until Mapicc wants to throw up. He knows what he saw, but does he really? Sometimes he thinks that his parents and his classmates are right, and it was just a man, or a deer, or Mapicc's losing his mind at ten years old.
Another week passes before Mapicc finds the courage to go into the forest again. His parents haven't mentioned Mapicc's tragic attempt at telling them, and his classmate's jeers have mostly been tamed (key word mostly, because Ashswag is determined to drag it for some reason).
Mapicc is tense as he makes his way into the trees. It's still daylight out, and the sun creates dazzling patterns along the grass. When he reaches his usual spot by the stream, he glances around expectantly. There's nothing there. He looks around again. Still nothing.
His shoulders slump. He's not disappointed! No. He's happy because the space is empty! Yeah. That's it. It's not like he wants to see It again. Why would he? It's not like it was real anyway.
Mapicc spends his fifteen minutes in silence, staring blankly at the stream. He thinks of eyes that are equally as blank. He doesn't argue when he's called back into the house.
For the next few weeks, this is Mapicc's routine. He goes to school, comes home, does his homework, sits at the stream, and then is called in for dinner. His time outside has extended from fifteen minutes to sometimes hours, though he isn't allowed out at night anymore.
After a month, Mapicc has almost forgotten all about it. That is, until almost a month and a half after the first incident.
Mapicc is following routine, this time reading some book assigned to him at school. It's boring, but he reads it anyway. It's easy to get through quickly. He's leaning against his favorite tree.
Suddenly, he hears a rustling from nearby, and stills. It could be a deer. It could be a coyote. It could even be the wind. But it's not, and Mapicc knows it's not. He can feel it's not.
He sits up slowly, adjusting to face the stream. He closes his book and leaves it forgotten somewhere to his left. Across the stream, he can see the smallest sliver of movement.
He contemplates what to do for a moment, but at the end of the day he's a ten year old and there's only so much he can do.
So, hesitantly, he calls, "hello?"
The movement stops, but there's no sign of fleeing. Mapicc quietly cheers.
"Hello?" he calls again. "I won't – I'm not gonna hurt you. Pinky promise!"
It's a bit childish, but it's the strongest offer of trust Mapicc knows. It occurs to him that It is probably unfamiliar with this.
"I won't hurt you," he repeats, quieter.
It is just past the stream, but Mapicc makes no move to find it this time. Instead, he waits.
And waits. And waits. And what feels like an eternity has passed when Mapicc realizes that It probably snuck away without him noticing.
"Aw man," he pouts to himself, leaning back again and going back to the book.
It's by chance, really, that he happens to look up a few minutes later. And when he does, he jumps. It jumps too, but doesn't run this time.
For a moment, the two stare at each other, the only interruption being the stream splitting the land, keeping either from getting too close.
Slowly, It takes a step forward and crouches beside the stream in a position not unlike the one it held the first time they met.
It's fishing! Mapicc realizes belatedly.
Though It sends Mapicc a few glances, Its attention has almost fully been turned to the water. Mapicc watches in fascination, as it stares, both of them motionless.
And then, just as before, It strikes, and comes up with a fish. This one is smaller than the red one before, and is a glimmering silver that catches the light in a splendid way. Without pause, It begins eating, this time making much quicker work of the fish.
The time It takes to do so allows Mapicc a bit of a better look at It, since he had been approaching from the back last time. This time, however, he can get a closer look at Its features, and Its clothes. It's wearing a high-collared black jacket that's a little dirty and has a few holes, but otherwise well taken care of. On the front is a white lighting bolt symbol, outlined in rainbow. The symbol is well-defined, but Mapicc thinks it's hardly as bright as Its eyes. It's also wearing a pair of baggy cargo pants, but no shoes. Mapicc wonders where It got them.
When It's done eating, It fully sits in a position that's almost criss-crossed, albeit a little awkward considering Its lankiness. Then It just blinks. At Mapicc. Who, after a moment, realizes that this is his chance.
"H–Hello?" He calls, though quietly. Mapicc sits up to match Its position.
Across the stream, It tilts Its head. In a jerky, unsure motion, It waves at Mapicc.
Mapicc feels ecstatic at the gesture. Not only is It not running from him, but It's also communicating!
Its wave turns into a point and a questioning head tilt. It takes a moment for Mapicc to realize It's pointing at his book.
"Oh. Uh, this? It's called a book. Look, see?"
Mapicc stands this time. He flips through the book, holding it out so It can see the pages. It still looks quizzical, though. Mapicc decides to risk it and begins moving until he's at the very edge of the stream, holding out the book.
It has also scrambled to Its feet, Its tail swishing in a way not unlike a cat's.
Hesitantly, It takes a step into the stream. And suddenly, the two are face to face again. Mapicc, on land, holding out the book, and It in the water, the stream soaking Its pants. It doesn't seem to notice, instead taking the book from Mapicc's awaiting hands.
"Book." Mapicc repeats.
It takes the object. Flips through the pages in a similar manner as Mapicc. Then, It promptly takes a bite.
Mapicc screeches, "Ah, No! Don't do that!" in a panic, he rips the book out of Its grip.
Mapicc peers down at the missing chunk of his school book, but looks back up when he hears splashing. It is gone. Mapicc feels a pang of guilt.
The next day, Mapicc has some trouble explaining to his teacher the bite taken from his book. He can't exactly tell her the monster living in his forest ate it, can he? So he makes some dull excuse about a dog, shrugging when his teacher points out he doesn't have a dog. He makes it through his day, though he isn't given a new book.
Mapicc is surprised later, when It is back again. This time though, It's on Mapicc's side of the stream. The two sit in silence.
Mapicc takes a deep breath. Then finds the courage to say, "I'm sorry."
It looks at him, confused. Mapicc's not sure it can even understand him.
"For taking the book back like that," Mapicc explains, fiddling with his hands. "You didn't know."
It tilts Its head at Mapicc and nods solemnly, as if It understands. They do not speak for the rest of the night.
Nor do they speak for the next few weeks. But eventually Mapicc takes up monologuing, unable to stand the silence. Mapicc spends his time doing his fifth-grade homework – math, science, and a few books. Sometimes he'll read the assignment or books aloud; other times he'll just talk. Mapicc usually lays in the spot deemed his, against a tall, wide rock. Meanwhile, It sits near the stream and, though sometimes It fishes, It usually just watches him.
One day, though, things change. There's a strange feeling in the air that Mapicc senses as he sits down. As the months have passed since their first meeting, Mapicc has now turned eleven. Fifth grade is over, so Mapicc has taken to reading books for fun over the Summer. He can already hear Ashswag calling him a nerd. The thought makes him huff in agitation.
It is already there when Mapicc arrives today. Its tail is swishing leisurely from side to side.
For the first few hours, they sit in silence. The tenseness in the air has kept Mapicc from talking, and he didn't bring any work with him today.
It's a good thing he didn't, really, because if Mapicc had been focused on anything other than the silence, he's not sure he would have heard it.
It's a quiet, raspy sound. Unsure.
"Book?"
Mapicc pauses. His gaze slowly turns to meet Its.
"What?" he asks in a moment of confusion.
It hesitates, then says again, "Book?"
A sudden giddiness arises in Mapicc, and he gasps, "You–you spoke!" He points at It, repeating, "You spoke!
It – no, he, now – blinks. Once, twice. Then, points at himself, "I . . . Spoke?"
Mapicc nods rapidly, "Yeah! Yeah, you – wow, you spoke!"
"I Spoke," He says, and he sounds so confident, it makes Mapicc giddy all over again.
He's about to say something, when he hears the call from his house. "Mapicc? Mapicc! Come inside, Jepexx is here!"
Mapicc frowns. He forgot his cousin was coming over.
"Sorry," He says with a small smile, "I gotta go."
"You . . . Mapicc."
"Yeah. I'm Mapicc."
Only hours later does Mapicc realize there may have been some miscommunication. But, too late now, he supposes. It is now Spoke, and that's just how things will be.
And, truthfully, it's how things are.
Mapicc finds an old, dusty dictionary and makes flashcards out of all kinds of paper – sticky notes, note cards, old assignments – to teach Spoke to speak and read. Later, he even teaches him how to write.
More often than not, Mapicc sneaks leftover food to Spoke. In Winter, he smuggles his friend blankets and hand warmers (which Spoke keeps trying to eat, despite Mapicc's many protests). Spoke tells Mapicc he doesn't need the charity, but Mapicc just laughs and pats him on the back.
Middle school passes by in a blur. Mapicc's style has changed to a red hoodie and bandanas he ties across his forehead and leaves under his hair. His favorite is the red one, though he has quite a few different colors and patterns. Spoke's clothes have not changed from the black hoodie with the white lighting bolt, though Mapicc has taught him how to efficiently wash them.
When Mapicc is fourteen and halfway through his first year of high school, he takes one of these bandanas and hastily shoves it into a pink bag with the first tissue paper he finds, which is orange. Then he sneaks it past his parents and out to the stream to wait.
When Spoke arrives, he glances at it curiously. Then points at it and says, "Bag? Or, gift, right?"
Mapicc grins, proud even after over three years, and affirms, "Yeah, gift!"
The smile he receives is radiant.
"I have a new word today, actually," Mapicc tells him, "Have you ever heard, 'birthday' before?"
And he says "have you ever heard" because yes, prior to their first meeting Spoke did know a few words. Namely simple ones like "I" or "You," and even "Food" and "Water" and, strangely enough, "Jamato," which had Mapicc confused before realizing it's a name. Who's name, he's not sure, and Spoke either can't remember or doesn't want to tell him, so he won't pry.
"No," Spoke pouts, "What does . . . birthday mean?"
"It's like, the day you were born, or created, I guess. Humans usually have a tradition of giving each other gifts on those days." Mapicc explains.
"Like Christmas?" Spoke asks.
"Yeah, like Christmas. Except more special, because it's your day."
"My day?"
"Yeah. I've put off telling you because I wanted to find you the right gift, and I kinda forgot, but now that I have it, why don't we make today your birthday?" Mapicc offers. For good measure, he shows the date to Spoke on his phone as well, to ensure he knows what today is.
"Okay!" Spoke grins, "So, who is the bag-gift for?"
Mapicc smiles politely, understanding that even after a few years Spoke is still a bit confused on how to speak English.
"You, stupid!" He giggles, pushing the gift at Spoke, "Open it, c'mon!"
Spoke tears out the orange tissue paper, though he spares a glance at it with a look that makes Mapicc think he wants to eat it. He doesn't, thankfully (Mapicc is glad Spoke's mostly past that phase), and finally reaches the bottom of the bag.
It's a bandana. It's not matching Mapicc's, no, his is red, but this one matches the outline of the lighting bolt on Spoke's jacket. So to say, it's rainbow. Is it the most subtle? No, but it's not like it glows in the dark or anything, and hunters are prohibited from this forest anyway. Spoke should be fine wearing it, at least Mapicc hopes so. He'd feel terrible if something happened.
Spoke, on the other hand, seems to share none of these worries, instead gazing in unveiled fascination at the colors.
And then Spoke tackles Mapicc in a hug. The two roll around for a moment, and Mapicc is pretty sure they crush the discarded bag and tissue paper, but they come to a stop side by side in the grass, grinning.
Mapicc sits up, laughing, "Let me tie it for you."
Spoke sits up too, though his tail is swishing with unbridled excitement and keeps hitting Mapicc as he ties the bandana.
"Thank you," Spoke says when Mapicc's finished.
Mapicc knows he's not just talking about tying the bandana, so he nods and responds, "Any time, man."
•••
The next year, Mapicc is fifteen and in his second year of high school. He's chosen to join the archery club and begin learning, as it's something he's been considering for quite some time. It's fun, and the leader of the club, Parrot, is still just as kind as when the two were younger. Mapicc cannot say the same for his friends, however, as Wifies and Theo do nothing but bicker for Parrot's attention and distract everyone. Mapicc's long stopped thinking they joined the club for archery.
Mapicc convinces his parents to let him get his own bow, quiver, and arrows – ones that aren't the half-broken models the school provides – and applies his skills to the forest. He learns a bit about hunting from Spoke, as well as several online tutorials and advice from fellow club members. When he kills his first animal, a rabbit, he tells no one but Spoke, who eats the thing in less than five bites. Mapicc thinks he might never get over Spoke's preference for raw meat.
At school, the archery club are the only people Mapicc talks to, other than Jepexx and sometimes Squiddo. But talking to them just isn't like talking to Spoke. It's more difficult, and when they eventually lapse into silence it's thick and choking – nothing like the light airy feel of when he's with Spoke.
It's lonely.
Parrot, noticing this, had gone as far as introducing Mapicc to the other clubs to try and expand his interests. The gardening club, which Mapicc had been surprised to see a disgruntled Flamefrags in, was interesting, but Mapicc just couldn't get the hang of the plants no matter how many times the club leader, Lomedy, showed him. The other notable club was the chess club, which is co-run by Wifies and Parrot. Unfortunately, Mapicc has no interest in chess, and any desire to learn was shot down immediately by Boosfer's appearance. After a few other club introductions went more or less the same way, Parrot apologizing every time, though he stubbornly refuses to give up.
"Just one more," he says one day after school, leading Mapicc through the hallways.
"Really, it's fine," Mapicc replies, "I'm surprised you've helped me this much in the first place, anyway."
Parrot spares him a glance, "Why wouldn't I? You're my friend. Even if you weren't, I'd still help you. I'm student council anyway, it's kind of my job."
"If you say so."
Parrot will never be Spoke, but Mapicc supposes that doesn't mean they can't be friends.
And suddenly, the two are at the library. Somewhere behind a few shelves, Mapicc can see a group of people at a table, and a pile of books.
"Wait – we have a book club?" Mapicc asks, "Since when?"
"Since, like, always, bro. It's even older than the archery club. Hey, Egg!" Parrot shrugs, then turns his attention to the boy with white hair at one end of the table.
"I'll leave you to it, I've gotta go," Parrot tells Mapicc, who panics as the other boy, Egg, approaches.
"Uh, wait–" but Parrot's already gone. So Mapicc steels himself to speak to the book club president about how he'd like to join after half of the school year has already passed because his archery friends have noticed he's lonely.
"So you wanna join the book club?" Egg asks, staring at him with one eye – the other is covered by hair, like those emo guys in anime – and scrutinizing him.
Mapicc remembers belatedly that Egg is the best friend of Wemmbu, one of the most . . . hardcore people at school. The guy fights with Flamefrags maybe once a week, and Mapicc's pretty sure he learned how to fight from Flame's own brother. Its a messy line he doesn't want to get involved in.
"Uh. Yeah?"
"Cool. We're picking out books to read for this semester anyway, so it'll be like you were always here," Eggs demeanor changes instantly, and Mapicc realizes it was really just some silly act to intimidate him.
Okay. He sighs.
So Mapicc comes home that day with a new book, assigned chapters, and a few more school friends on his roster.
Naturally, he tells Spoke everything. They read the first ten chapters together.
When Mapicc's third year of high school begins, he's sixteen. He remains in the archery and book clubs, the latter of which he even introduces Squiddo to.
Things are going well.
Until one day, Spoke doesn't arrive. And that's fine – sometimes there are just days like that, where Spoke is too caught up in hunting or staring at a bird or . . . whatever creatures like him do. It's rare, but it does happen.
So Mapicc spends his time as usual finishing his homework. He's brought the book they've been reading in the book club, but hasn't opened it. He's waiting for Spoke.
Spoke doesn't show the next day either. Mapicc finishes his homework, glances at the book. He doesn't open it. He's waiting for Spoke. It's their thing, to read books together.
The third day Spoke doesn't come Mapicc feels a sharp pang of worry. He's never been gone this long. He searches around the area for any clues, but he's cautious of straying too far from eyeshot of his house; it's easy to get lost in the woods. Something tells him Spoke's not around here anyway.
Mapicc waits restlessly by their usual area near the stream. The book awaits beside him, unopened, waiting for Spoke.
Mapicc stops paying attention in class. He's twenty chapters behind in the book club, whose last meeting he skipped in favor of waiting by the stream. He skips archery for the same reason. Mapicc can tell that both Squiddo and Parrot notice, and he's even seen Egg and some other club members giving him worried glances in the halls.
Mapicc brushes off Squiddo and Parrot, and remains thankful that Egg and the others still don't know him well enough to ask questions.
He does try to work on stuff, and he gets some homework done, but Spoke being missing is a constant thought taking up space in the back of his mind. It stretches long enough for Mapicc to even consider telling someone – but what would he even say?
"My best friend is missing please help. Oh, also he's a folktale creature who lives in the woods" wouldn't go down well with anyone.
Maybe luckily, that conversation doesn't need to happen at all. Today, Mapicc is, again, waiting by the water leaning against his rock. He stares blankly into space. It's been a week already, with no sign of Spoke.
Yet suddenly, there's a shallow splash from the stream. Mapicc almost doesn't look – fish jump out of the water and make noise all the time – but he does.
He leaps to his feet as soon as he sees it, shouting in disbelief, "Spoke?"
Spoke looks almost sheepish as he approaches, muttering a tired greeting. Mapicc realizes he's limping.
"What – are you – what the heck happened, bro?" Mapicc splutters, entering the water himself to help Spoke over to the bank.
It's when he gets closer that Mapicc finds something is wrong. It doesn't take too long for him to spot the issue. One of Spoke's usual spiraling, black horns has been splintered and broken off. Spoke winces when he sees where Mapicc's gaze has gone.
"What happened." Mapicc demands again.
"It's nothing," Spoke deflects quietly as the two sit in their usual spots, "just . . . hunters or something. Thought I was a deer. It happens, man."
Mapicc knows he's lying. These woods are prohibited and protected. Its not impossible, he supposes, but it is highly improbable considering hunters haven't been around since Mapicc was born.
"Your horn is broken in half. That doesn't 'just happen,' bro."
"I'm sorry," Spoke whines dramatically, leaning heavily on Mapicc.
Mapicc suspects it's an act to relieve his limp, but he doesn't comment on it.
"But," Spoke continues, a hand reaching into his hoodie pocket, "look what I have!"
Mapicc reels back slightly as Spoke shoves the broken piece of his horn into his face.
Mapicc just sighs. "C'mon, my parents aren't home right now."
•••
Spoke pouts as Mapicc helps him into the house and leaves the room to look for bandages.
He sighs, listening to his friend rummage around in the other room. He stares at the horn fragment in his hand. It was certainly a surprise, encountering his old friend again. The person who could have taught Spoke everything, who could have given him everything, but chose not to. Spoke didn't even have a name until he met Mapicc. But his "friend" never cared about treating Spoke like anything but a shackle anyway, and it took Spoke a long time to realize that.
He sighs.
Jamato got him good, that's for sure. But never again. And he'll never get Mapicc. Spoke promises himself that.
Mapicc walks back into the room, a roll of bandages in hand, and instructs Spoke to tell him everywhere he's injured. Spoke is sure to brush off any further questions, the thoughts of Jamato leaving his mind to be replaced by his real friend.
Hours later both are asleep in Mapicc's bed, an open book left fallen on the floor, read through no farther than five pages. They can catch up some other day. For now, it's just them.
For now, that's enough.