The morning light filtered through the dense canopy as Sora and Mary climbed up to the treehouse. Sora gestured toward the structure with a subtle wave. "This is it, Ms. Poppins," she muttered, her voice edged with a mix of pride and hesitation.
Mary clasped her hands together, her eyes lighting up as she examined the quaint structure. "Charming! ", she declared. "A rustic little haven. Though... It could use just a smidge of improvement, don't you think? "
Sora raised an eyebrow. "It's functional. That's what matters."
"Functional, yes. But why settle for functional when it could be... splendid? "Mary twirled around, gesturing dramatically toward the treehouse as though envisioning it anew.
"I don't need splendid," Sora replied flatly, crossing her arms.
Mary leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. "Perhaps not. But wouldn't it be nice to have a proper stove? Or a roof that doesn't look like it might give way during the next storm? I imagine you're tired of sharing space with the local wildlife uninvited."
Sora frowned, the slightest hesitation flickering in her golden eyes. "I guess... If you want to fix it up, fine. Just don't go overboard."
"Overboard? Me? "Mary feigned mock offense. "Perish the thought, dear Sora. I'll keep it modest. Tasteful, even."
Sora groaned. "You're already planning something ridiculous, aren't you?"
"Not ridiculous. Ingenious." Mary winked.
Before the conversation could go further, Sora grabbed her bow and quiver. "I'm heading out to hunt. I guess you'll want something to eat later."
Mary's expression shifted slightly, her smile softening. "Oh, I don't hunt. It's not my... Let's say, moral inclination. But if you bring back something, I'll happily cook it. Fair enough? "
Sora exhaled, annoyed but resigned. "Fine." She climbed down, leaving Mary alone in the treehouse, her ravens following as silent shadows.
Left to her own devices, Mary wasted no time. She descended from the treehouse and surveyed the remnants of the crashed airplane scattered through the forest. Her azure eyes gleamed as she spotted salvageable materials—planks of wood, scraps of metal, gears, and even pipes. "This'll do nicely," she murmured.
She spent hours gathering what she needed, making multiple trips between the airship wreckage and the treehouse. A large gear became a pulley system to hoist heavier items. With a flair for resourcefulness, she began transforming the modest treehouse into something extraordinary.
The living room was the first to take shape. Mary reinforced the floorboards, using salvaged wood to add a sturdy new layer. A chimney rose from the corner, constructed from curved metal sheets and fitted with a vent at the top. She positioned a cast-iron stove at its base, designing it as both a heater and a cooking space. Around the room, she crafted cozy furniture: a plush armchair reupholstered with salvaged fabric, a low table made from polished scrap wood, and a rug pieced together from thick, quilted material.
Next came the kitchen. Mary installed a countertop using smoothened planks and fitted it with a small sink connected to a makeshift rainwater collection system. She fashioned cabinets from the airship's storage compartments, lining them with salvaged metal trim for a steampunk flair. Gears and small brass pipes decorated the walls, giving the kitchen a mechanical charm.
In the bedroom area, she added proper beds—simple but comfortable, with sturdy wooden frames and mattresses stuffed with softened leaves and fabric scraps. She crafted brass lanterns to hang from the ceiling, using fireflies caught in glass jars as a light source.
The dining area was compact but elegant. She constructed a round table from an airplane wheel and added chairs with carved wooden backs. Above, she hung a chandelier cobbled together from wire and glass shards, its soft glow casting a warm ambiance.
Finally, Mary turned her attention to the exterior. She rebuilt the treehouse's entrance, replacing the rope ladder with a retractable wooden staircase. She reinforced the walls with layered wood and added small porthole-style windows, salvaged from the airship. The finishing touch was a brass weather vane atop the roof, shaped like a raven in flight.
By the time the sun began to set, the transformation was complete. Mary stood back, hands on her hips, surveying her work with satisfaction. "Now this," she said to herself, "is a proper home."
Sora returned just as the last light of day bathed the forest in gold. She froze at the base of the tree, her jaw dropping as she looked up at the renovated structure. "What the...? "
Sora remained at the base of the tree for a moment, her eyes scanning the towering structure that now loomed above her. The soft, warm glow of light streamed through the windows—actual windows, framed with brass and reinforced glass panes. The treehouse, once a simple shelter of patched wood and rope, had been utterly transformed.
She climbed the ladder slowly, the bag of games slung over her shoulder, forgotten for the moment. Her golden eyes flickered with a mix of amazement and hesitation. Each rung brought her closer to what looked like another world entirely.
When she finally reached the top, the sight that greeted her left her speechless.
The entryway was adorned with intricate ironwork, gears, and cogs embedded into the design purely for aesthetic flair. The door, made of sturdy oak reinforced with polished brass, had a handle shaped like a raven's head. She pushed it open hesitantly, and the inside nearly took her breath away.
The living room was unrecognizable. Plush armchairs upholstered in deep burgundy leather were arranged around a sleek brass fireplace. A clockwork chandelier hung from the ceiling, its tiny gears softly ticking as the lights shimmered through glass panels. A small bookshelf, neatly stocked, rested against the far wall, with books bound in brown and gold leather.
She turned her head and saw a small kitchen, complete with polished copper pots hanging neatly from hooks above a marble counter. The stove, a gleaming masterpiece of brass and iron, looked like it belonged in some grand inventor's workshop. A dining table with mismatched but charmingly steampunk chairs sat nearby, adorned with a clockwork centerpiece.
Sora ventured further, her boots echoing softly against the smooth wooden floors. Mary had even managed to carve out separate bedrooms—actual bedrooms. Sora's was simple but beautiful, with a small writing desk, a comfortable bed fitted with a quilt, and a window overlooking the forest. Mary's room, across the hall, was similarly modest but had her signature flair: shelves lined with tiny contraptions and tools neatly arranged.
The whole house exuded a sense of wonder, as though it had been plucked from a dream.
Mary appeared at the end of the hallway, her hands dusted with soot and her ash-blonde hair slightly tousled. She leaned against the doorframe of the now fully functional kitchen, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.
"Well?" Mary asked, her tone light but tinged with amusement.
Sora blinked, still at a loss for words. She dropped her bag of games onto the floor, her golden eyes wide. "I... how did you even...?"
Mary waved her hand dismissively, as if rebuilding an entire treehouse in mere hours was the easiest thing in the world. "Oh, just a bit of elbow grease, a sprinkle of ingenuity, and a few odds and ends from that airship wreck. It's amazing what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it, isn't it?"
Sora's lips twitched as she tried to suppress the urge to smile. "This... is ridiculous," she muttered, but the awe in her voice was impossible to hide.
Mary stepped forward, clasping her hands together. "Ridiculously wonderful, you mean." She gestured toward the living room. "Now, sit. You've had a long day, and this place needs to be lived in properly."
Sora hesitated but nodded. She lowered herself into one of the plush chairs, sinking into the unexpected comfort. She glanced at Mary, who had already begun bustling around the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove.
As the smell of brewing tea began to fill the room, Sora allowed herself a rare moment of peace. Her stomach still growled, and her muscles ached from the hunt, but for the first time in days—maybe weeks—she felt something she hadn't in a long time.
Safe.
Mary returned, handing her a steaming cup of tea in a brass mug adorned with a tiny raven engraving. Sora took it hesitantly, her hands cradling the warmth.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.
Mary plopped into the armchair opposite her, stretching out her legs. "No need to thank me, dear. Just promise me one thing."
Sora arched an eyebrow. "What?"
Mary grinned, her azure eyes sparkling with mischief. "Try not to destroy it too quickly."
Sora couldn't help it. She laughed—a real, genuine laugh—and for that brief moment, all the chaos of her world seemed to fade away.