Chapter 1
The woods that surrounded his hometown had always been his favorite place to be. The silence was comforting to him and often coaxed him into a dream-like state as he collected berries and nuts for his brother at home. The forest was so much different from home. He understood the forest, understood the wants of the trees and trills of the birds. Other people were so much harder to understand, with their silly things like complex emotions and the ways of the heart.
Besides- the forest judged your character, not your looks, and Biscoff appreciated that kind of outlook. Who cared if you looked scary if that’s what kept you alive, right? Other humans didn’t seem to think so. He was often judged for his brutish looks and the constant grime coating his skin no matter how much he scrubbed and picked. Biscoff always had been intimidating, always the tallest in his age group and body covered with slowly-spreading vitiligo. His hair was oakwood brown and filled with tangles. Even his eyes unsettled the random passerby, with his right eye gray and left eye brown. Dirt loved him more than humans ever had, clinging to him like a second skin, but Biscoff felt more comfortable with at least a bit of dirt on his skin anyway. That was proof that you worked, and that kind of proof was priceless to his father.
Keeping father happy was Biscoff’s job. Of course, keeping the forest happy was also his job, but he was quite good at that. He knew just where to pet the trees, and trees will always happily show their bellies in submission after a good scratch. The rest of the creatures often just followed suit.
He was doing just that when he heard a cry from behind, startling from his thoughts.
“Monster!” A small form came tumbling at him. He turned to see a little boy with warm tanned skin screeching a battlecry, a wooden sword in his tiny hands. Biscoff stepped out of the little warriors path, and watched silently as the boy catapulted into a berry bush with the ferocity of a thousand suns.
Biscoff couldn’t believe his luck. Another human? A boy his age, at that! There was no way this would go well, not well at all.
The smaller boy climbed out the bush with sticks poking out of his fluffy chocolate locks of hair, looking up at Biscoff with wide brown eyes full of indescribable emotion. Another person could have identified these emotions, and suddenly Biscoff wished the forest could read people emotions and tell them to him. However, the forest was not feeling very helpful today (as usual), and Biscoff was ultimately left in the dark.
So lost in his thoughts, Biscoff didn’t notice the other boy had slowly approached him until the boy was just a breath away, the wooden sword left forgotten in the grass. “What are those?” The boy asked, eyes locked on the nuts and berries Biscoff had been collecting.
Biscoff, so utterly floored by the fact that a human person was talking to him, just numbly mouthed words he didn’t even understand himself. What was he even saying? How long has it been since he’s used his voice?
“Oh! Berries! Can I have one?” Without waiting for an answer, the boy snatched an agur berry right from the top of the little bundle in his arms and plopped it into his mouth, expression brightening with glee. “Oh, these are good! Where did you find them?”
Still stricken by the idea that this human person was talking to him and wasn’t scared or anything! The boy might even like him and be his friend… Is this a dream? He must be dreaming.
Biscoff silently pointed at the bush the boy had fallen into.
The boy made a grunt of surprise at the sight of the destroyed bush. “Oh. Sorry about that. Thought you were a monster or something and I had to protect the village, you know? But you don’t really look like a monster, you’re just weird. Nice dodge, by the way! It was really cool!”
After turning around and heading in some unfamiliar direction, the boy continued speaking. Biscoff honestly didn’t understand what was happening, but he followed the rambling boy just because Biscoff didn’t know what else to do.
“Oi, rat boy! You listening?”
Biscoff tuned back into the one-sided conversation. He gave no sign to indicate that he was listening again, but somehow the boy could tell.
“Do you have a name? If not, I’ll just call you rat boy and that’s kind of mean, so I’d rather not, you know?”
That qualified as mean? Huh. Oh, the boy was staring at him, maybe he should answer. That’s what human people did, right? And he’s a human people. He should probably act like one. Well, his voice was still rumbly and hoarse from being left unused, but he managed to whisper out his name clear enough for the boy to understand.
Brightening considerably, the boy took another berry. “Cool! I’m Jaari!” Munching on the berries he kept taking from Biscoff’s arms, Jaari turned a curious glance around the clearing they had currently found themselves in. “What do you even need all that for?”
“My brother.” Biscoff took the pause in travel as a cue that they were staying in the clearing for a bit and continued to pick agur berries from the nearest bush, careful to keep himself from squishing the delicate fruit as he picked them.
Confused, Jaari rushed to follow the larger boy. “Why does your brother need them?” With nothing else to really do, Jaari began to pick berries as well, dropping what he grabbed carelessly into Biscoff’s little pile.
How could poor Biscoff answer the question when he was so baffled by the boy? No one had helped him before. Is this what he’d been missing all of his life? The forest never told him of this! Never told him of how...
Right. The question. “I feed my brother.”
Jaari nodded thoughtfully, watching as Biscoff turned away from the bush to pull out a basket, which he tenderly set the berries and nuts he had gathered so far into. “I see... What about your parents? Don’t your parents feed you? My dad feeds me lots of things, but never these berries! He always tells me,” he stood and mocked what Biscoff assumed to be Jaari’s father, swiping berry juice under his nose to mimic a mustache, “Jaari, don’t go into the forest! There’s scary things that will kill you in there!”
Jaari crossed his arms, mouth curling into a smirk. “So I brought a sword, just in case, but I think he was lying. No scary things here, just you!”
A little pang went off in Biscoff’s heart. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt warmer than he ever had, so he didn’t question it. He didn’t know other human people could be so nice. The only nice human person Biscoff knew was his brother, and that was because he got his brother food.
Whatever the feeling was, he wasn’t used to it, and had already begun to associate the strange feeling with Jaari even before they left the forest. Biscoff felt strange while he roamed around collecting berries with the other boy. Almost as if...
A hole he hadn’t known of had been filled. The forest couldn’t fill that hole before. Maybe the forest can’t do other things either.
Eventually, they had collected enough, and Jaari was determined to help him bring everything to Biscoff’s home. “Your brother needs it, right?” Jaari said, smiling brighter than the setting sun. Biscoff could only nod and lead Jaari in the direction of his home.
His home was separate from the other homes of the neighborhood, blocked off from sight by dense trees and the surrounding river. Long ago, Biscoff had thought of the river as something new to explore. Over the years, the chilly water had only become a physical barrier to remind him of the mental one, the reason why he still went home each day when all he wanted to do was stay in the forest forever.
The home itself was basic, two stories and colored bright blue. An unnatural eyesore. Usually, Biscoff would wait at the door, contemplating entering and ending the goodness of the day, but Jaari was determined to go in immediately.
Right as Biscoff twists the doorknob, the clear snap of shattering glass echoes out from a crack in the door.
“You fucking piece of shit! I better not see you in the kitchen again, you little sniveling weasel, you hear me?!”
Biscoff heard a soft thump and a groan but didn’t move. He could tell Jaari had heard it too, by the way Jaari tried to push past Biscoff and open the door. Biscoff didn’t want his new friend getting hurt, so he stood as solid as iron. Jaari understood after a moment and calmed down, but not without curling closer to Biscoff’s side, intensifying the warm feeling in Biscoff’s chest.
With renewed strength, Biscoff opened the door. “Papa.”
The entrance was the kitchen, so he didn’t spot his father just yet. After setting down the basket on the kitchen table and carefully covering it with sticks to hide its contents, Biscoff led Jaari to the living room. There, his father stood above his brother, who cowered behind the couch. Glass shards covered his brothers body and the floor surrounding him, tiny beads of blood dripping from his scapes onto the ground.
Jaari was completely enraptured by the sight of Biscoff’s brother. Biscoff could practically see the little hearts in his eyes.
His father brightened at the sight of Biscoff. “Ah, Lille lort, you’re back! I see you’ve brought home a friend? Welcome to the Scarborough residence!” Just as he was about to turn back to Biscoff’s brother, the clock opened its mouth and rang the warning bell. “Oh! Lille lort, take care of the boy, it’s time I check on your mother again!” After his cold eyes scanned the room once more, he left, footsteps clicking resoundingly up the stairs to the second floor.
The moment his father left, Jaari scrambled to sit next to Biscoff’s brother. He asked question after question as he helped the lanky boy up from the ground and dusted off the shards of glass. Neither Jaari nor the brother paid heed to the cuts they got from the dusting process, both stunned by the sight of the other. His brother was quite good looking after all, just as gorgeous as Jaari was cute. With entrancing eyes and handsome jaw, his brother had always been a sharp contrast from Biscoff’s brutish and ugly features.
Biscoff could tell he was no longer welcome, and moved back to the kitchen to prepare the meal for tonight.
Meanwhile, Biscoff’s brother silenced Jaari with a single bloody finger to the smaller boy’s lips, laughing softly despite the empty gaze of his eyes. “Hello,” Biscoff’s brother whispered, voice hoarse and cracked but nonetheless beautiful, a sharp change from Biscoff’s ugly baritone.
Jaari felt a warm feeling in his chest, a feeling he thought he knew the name of. This was love, right? The feeling his father felt when he gazed at the baker’s daughter? He’s seen this before. This boy in front of him... This boy was his damsel in distress! And he was the knight in shining armor!
The world made sense and clicked into place for Jaari. Biscoff must be his trusted side-kick, while the father is the dragon. He’s read this kind of story before, and he knew how they ended
.
But before he could end it, he would have to gain his damsel’s trust. With the best smile he had in stock, Jaari whispered to the damsel. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”
The damsel scoffed and picked a few stray shards out of his skin. “So are you, idiot.”
“Hey! Don’t call me that!” This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to, Jaari thought. The damsel wasn’t mean! He would have to fix that. “I’m Jaari.”
The taller boy hummed thoughtfully, considering Jaari for a moment. “I see. I’m Nesryn.”
In the other room, Biscoff stared silently into the sink, clutching his chest with trembling fingers as he wondered where the warm feeling went.
The woods that surrounded his hometown had always been his favorite place to be. The silence was comforting to him and often coaxed him into a dream-like state as he collected berries and nuts for his brother at home. The forest was so much different from home. He understood the forest, understood the wants of the trees and trills of the birds. Other people were so much harder to understand, with their silly things like complex emotions and the ways of the heart.
Besides- the forest judged your character, not your looks, and Biscoff appreciated that kind of outlook. Who cared if you looked scary if that’s what kept you alive, right? Other humans didn’t seem to think so. He was often judged for his brutish looks and the constant grime coating his skin no matter how much he scrubbed and picked. Biscoff always had been intimidating, always the tallest in his age group and body covered with slowly-spreading vitiligo. His hair was oakwood brown and filled with tangles. Even his eyes unsettled the random passerby, with his right eye gray and left eye brown. Dirt loved him more than humans ever had, clinging to him like a second skin, but Biscoff felt more comfortable with at least a bit of dirt on his skin anyway. That was proof that you worked, and that kind of proof was priceless to his father.
Keeping father happy was Biscoff’s job. Of course, keeping the forest happy was also his job, but he was quite good at that. He knew just where to pet the trees, and trees will always happily show their bellies in submission after a good scratch. The rest of the creatures often just followed suit.
He was doing just that when he heard a cry from behind, startling from his thoughts.
“Monster!” A small form came tumbling at him. He turned to see a little boy with warm tanned skin screeching a battlecry, a wooden sword in his tiny hands. Biscoff stepped out of the little warriors path, and watched silently as the boy catapulted into a berry bush with the ferocity of a thousand suns.
Biscoff couldn’t believe his luck. Another human? A boy his age, at that! There was no way this would go well, not well at all.
The smaller boy climbed out the bush with sticks poking out of his fluffy chocolate locks of hair, looking up at Biscoff with wide brown eyes full of indescribable emotion. Another person could have identified these emotions, and suddenly Biscoff wished the forest could read people emotions and tell them to him. However, the forest was not feeling very helpful today (as usual), and Biscoff was ultimately left in the dark.
So lost in his thoughts, Biscoff didn’t notice the other boy had slowly approached him until the boy was just a breath away, the wooden sword left forgotten in the grass. “What are those?” The boy asked, eyes locked on the nuts and berries Biscoff had been collecting.
Biscoff, so utterly floored by the fact that a human person was talking to him, just numbly mouthed words he didn’t even understand himself. What was he even saying? How long has it been since he’s used his voice?
“Oh! Berries! Can I have one?” Without waiting for an answer, the boy snatched an agur berry right from the top of the little bundle in his arms and plopped it into his mouth, expression brightening with glee. “Oh, these are good! Where did you find them?”
Still stricken by the idea that this human person was talking to him and wasn’t scared or anything! The boy might even like him and be his friend… Is this a dream? He must be dreaming.
Biscoff silently pointed at the bush the boy had fallen into.
The boy made a grunt of surprise at the sight of the destroyed bush. “Oh. Sorry about that. Thought you were a monster or something and I had to protect the village, you know? But you don’t really look like a monster, you’re just weird. Nice dodge, by the way! It was really cool!”
After turning around and heading in some unfamiliar direction, the boy continued speaking. Biscoff honestly didn’t understand what was happening, but he followed the rambling boy just because Biscoff didn’t know what else to do.
“Oi, rat boy! You listening?”
Biscoff tuned back into the one-sided conversation. He gave no sign to indicate that he was listening again, but somehow the boy could tell.
“Do you have a name? If not, I’ll just call you rat boy and that’s kind of mean, so I’d rather not, you know?”
That qualified as mean? Huh. Oh, the boy was staring at him, maybe he should answer. That’s what human people did, right? And he’s a human people. He should probably act like one. Well, his voice was still rumbly and hoarse from being left unused, but he managed to whisper out his name clear enough for the boy to understand.
Brightening considerably, the boy took another berry. “Cool! I’m Jaari!” Munching on the berries he kept taking from Biscoff’s arms, Jaari turned a curious glance around the clearing they had currently found themselves in. “What do you even need all that for?”
“My brother.” Biscoff took the pause in travel as a cue that they were staying in the clearing for a bit and continued to pick agur berries from the nearest bush, careful to keep himself from squishing the delicate fruit as he picked them.
Confused, Jaari rushed to follow the larger boy. “Why does your brother need them?” With nothing else to really do, Jaari began to pick berries as well, dropping what he grabbed carelessly into Biscoff’s little pile.
How could poor Biscoff answer the question when he was so baffled by the boy? No one had helped him before. Is this what he’d been missing all of his life? The forest never told him of this! Never told him of how...
Right. The question. “I feed my brother.”
Jaari nodded thoughtfully, watching as Biscoff turned away from the bush to pull out a basket, which he tenderly set the berries and nuts he had gathered so far into. “I see... What about your parents? Don’t your parents feed you? My dad feeds me lots of things, but never these berries! He always tells me,” he stood and mocked what Biscoff assumed to be Jaari’s father, swiping berry juice under his nose to mimic a mustache, “Jaari, don’t go into the forest! There’s scary things that will kill you in there!”
Jaari crossed his arms, mouth curling into a smirk. “So I brought a sword, just in case, but I think he was lying. No scary things here, just you!”
A little pang went off in Biscoff’s heart. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt warmer than he ever had, so he didn’t question it. He didn’t know other human people could be so nice. The only nice human person Biscoff knew was his brother, and that was because he got his brother food.
Whatever the feeling was, he wasn’t used to it, and had already begun to associate the strange feeling with Jaari even before they left the forest. Biscoff felt strange while he roamed around collecting berries with the other boy. Almost as if...
A hole he hadn’t known of had been filled. The forest couldn’t fill that hole before. Maybe the forest can’t do other things either.
Eventually, they had collected enough, and Jaari was determined to help him bring everything to Biscoff’s home. “Your brother needs it, right?” Jaari said, smiling brighter than the setting sun. Biscoff could only nod and lead Jaari in the direction of his home.
His home was separate from the other homes of the neighborhood, blocked off from sight by dense trees and the surrounding river. Long ago, Biscoff had thought of the river as something new to explore. Over the years, the chilly water had only become a physical barrier to remind him of the mental one, the reason why he still went home each day when all he wanted to do was stay in the forest forever.
The home itself was basic, two stories and colored bright blue. An unnatural eyesore. Usually, Biscoff would wait at the door, contemplating entering and ending the goodness of the day, but Jaari was determined to go in immediately.
Right as Biscoff twists the doorknob, the clear snap of shattering glass echoes out from a crack in the door.
“You fucking piece of shit! I better not see you in the kitchen again, you little sniveling weasel, you hear me?!”
Biscoff heard a soft thump and a groan but didn’t move. He could tell Jaari had heard it too, by the way Jaari tried to push past Biscoff and open the door. Biscoff didn’t want his new friend getting hurt, so he stood as solid as iron. Jaari understood after a moment and calmed down, but not without curling closer to Biscoff’s side, intensifying the warm feeling in Biscoff’s chest.
With renewed strength, Biscoff opened the door. “Papa.”
The entrance was the kitchen, so he didn’t spot his father just yet. After setting down the basket on the kitchen table and carefully covering it with sticks to hide its contents, Biscoff led Jaari to the living room. There, his father stood above his brother, who cowered behind the couch. Glass shards covered his brothers body and the floor surrounding him, tiny beads of blood dripping from his scapes onto the ground.
Jaari was completely enraptured by the sight of Biscoff’s brother. Biscoff could practically see the little hearts in his eyes.
His father brightened at the sight of Biscoff. “Ah, Lille lort, you’re back! I see you’ve brought home a friend? Welcome to the Scarborough residence!” Just as he was about to turn back to Biscoff’s brother, the clock opened its mouth and rang the warning bell. “Oh! Lille lort, take care of the boy, it’s time I check on your mother again!” After his cold eyes scanned the room once more, he left, footsteps clicking resoundingly up the stairs to the second floor.
The moment his father left, Jaari scrambled to sit next to Biscoff’s brother. He asked question after question as he helped the lanky boy up from the ground and dusted off the shards of glass. Neither Jaari nor the brother paid heed to the cuts they got from the dusting process, both stunned by the sight of the other. His brother was quite good looking after all, just as gorgeous as Jaari was cute. With entrancing eyes and handsome jaw, his brother had always been a sharp contrast from Biscoff’s brutish and ugly features.
Biscoff could tell he was no longer welcome, and moved back to the kitchen to prepare the meal for tonight.
Meanwhile, Biscoff’s brother silenced Jaari with a single bloody finger to the smaller boy’s lips, laughing softly despite the empty gaze of his eyes. “Hello,” Biscoff’s brother whispered, voice hoarse and cracked but nonetheless beautiful, a sharp change from Biscoff’s ugly baritone.
Jaari felt a warm feeling in his chest, a feeling he thought he knew the name of. This was love, right? The feeling his father felt when he gazed at the baker’s daughter? He’s seen this before. This boy in front of him... This boy was his damsel in distress! And he was the knight in shining armor!
The world made sense and clicked into place for Jaari. Biscoff must be his trusted side-kick, while the father is the dragon. He’s read this kind of story before, and he knew how they ended.
But before he could end it, he would have to gain his damsel’s trust. With the best smile he had in stock, Jaari whispered to the damsel. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”
The damsel scoffed and picked a few stray shards out of his skin. “So are you, idiot.”
“Hey! Don’t call me that!” This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to, Jaari thought. The damsel wasn’t mean! He would have to fix that. “I’m Jaari.”
The taller boy hummed thoughtfully, considering Jaari for a moment. “I see. I’m Nesryn.”
In the other room, Biscoff stared silently into the sink, clutching his chest with trembling fingers as he wondered where the warm feeling went.
