~{The Stars Incline Us}~
Footsteps fell softly among the grass and fallen leaves. Two sets. One smaller than the other. One set was surer in their gait while the other was timid. Breathing was gentle, not labored or rushed as they fell at steady pace along the river. Leaves crunched under foot as birds sang from their nests up above in the treetops. The air carried a warm breeze, promising life and rejuvenation. The pair ceased and rested a moment along the water's edge.
The woman stood watch as the child took a drink, her yellow dress gently touching the water's surface. Her sheer skirt, slitted on either side up to her thighs, billowed in the breeze. She tugged on the waist of the tight shorts that hid her extremities from beneath the skirt. She then looked back to the child, watching her carefully.
A scream, ear-piercing and devilish in nature echoed from across the forest, making way to the ears of the woman and child.
"What was that?" The small child asked with fear trembling through their tone like a shaking leaf. Water dripped from her chin as she moved closer to the woman, small hand gripping part of her slitted skirt. The woman wrapped an arm around the child's shoulders, billowing sleeve tossing back and forth along her back.
"I do not know." The woman responded in a firm and collected tone. She was like a stone, anchoring the child and shielding her from the dangers that lurked in the forest. The woman pulled the child tighter to her side, gripping her shoulder. The scream streaked out again like lightening across the sky. The woman spun round and fell to one knee, mud dirtying her skin as she grabbed hold of the child's shoulders. "I need you to stay here by the river and go nowhere. I will return."
"No, don't go!" The child flung her arms around the woman's neck and tightly shut her eyes. The woman held her, eyes searching the sky behind the treetops for signs of the beastie. She rubbed a hand up and down the girl's back soothingly and then pulled away when she heard another screeching cry.
"It is a daemon. A Fury by the sound of it. I must go." The woman kissed the girl's head and stood up. She looked down at the girl again and gave her a knowing stare.
"I will stay here." The girl understood exactly what the look meant.
"Good girl." The woman then padded away. Her footfalls were soft and cautious. They floated into the forest, following a brutish trail in the brush up a hill. The screams were suddenly wrenched from the air in a pitiful gurgle as the woman recognized the sound of the beast dying. She continued on her path, itching to see the carcass and ensure it was truly deceased.
She found it on the beach. She peered over the edge of the cliff and stared down at its mangled form. The right wing had been cleaved in half, skull bashed in, and its blood soaked the sands. She looked for the source of the damage, but could see nothing but footsteps leading away from the beast.
There were others in the forest. Others who had slain a daemon. A Fury nonetheless.
As she turned to head back into the forest, she felt there was something else in the air. She closed her eyes and tried to sense for it. It was like electricity, humming and soaring through the wind currents. A jolt ran through her, from feet up to her chest and then along her shoulders to hands as a signal that something was amiss. It was something she had not felt for a long time; powerful, beguiling... magical and ancient.
Turning from the beach and the cliff, she headed back to the forest. She walked to where the other footsteps in the sand met the tree line and began to follow. She was no tracker, but whoever these people were did not need someone skilled to follow them. They had left a trail a mile wide in their wake. She spotted a few droplets of blood on a nearby branch, leaves dotted with red.
Was this blood from the beast left to rot on the beach? Or was this one of its slayers'?
She followed the trail as far as she could and then lost it when the forest grew thicker. Standing on an incline up a small hill, she looked out among the trees in hopes that the flora would give her a sign of which way to go. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the sensation of electricity again. It hummed and buzzed like the wings of a hummingbird, leading her further up the hill.
A cave. The forest had led her to a cave.
She stood at the entrance and peered into the darkness. The whole area hummed with magic, rippling through her, wave after wave like the crashing sea. As the breeze blew through the trees, the sunlight cast rays into the darkness and revealed markings. Ancient, significant, etched into the stone walls with magic. As more sunlight burst through the treetops of the great Maples, she spotted a stilled figure on a stone table.
It was a man.
She moved into the cave, the sense that something was wrong prickling at her skin. She walked to one side of the table and looked over the man. His shirt had been removed to reveal he was bleeding from a series of long gashes across his right side to his chest. Obviously, the claw of the Fury had ripped through his flesh life a knife through butter. His breathing was shallow and labored, eyes closed and beads of sweat trailing over forehead and face.
She looked back at the wound and gently reached out, unafraid, to touch the angry flesh with her delicate fingers. His skin seared with fever, her cold fingers doing nothing to quench it. She could see it was becoming infected by the daemon's touch. He did not have long left to live.
"Can you hear me?" Her voice was soft and tender, like a feather floating down from the sky. She leaned over him, tossing her long, golden hair, which had been tied into a tail, over her shoulder and away from his body. She moved her free hand to his forehead and felt for fever, brushing away the beads of sweat from his brow with her thumb.
Her eyes scanned his face and then she tilted her head to the left to examine the strange markings on the flesh of his skull. They were intricate, ancient, meaningful marks that had turned to scars in his flesh. She peered up at the walls of the cave, recognizing that the marks on him were the same marks etched into the stone. Her gaze fell upon his face again. His eyes remained closed and lips slightly parted. He slumbered in his weakened state, torn and battered from battling the great beast on the beach.
She felt something radiate from him. The same humming she had felt at the beach and in the forest. It was magic. He was channeling magic. No... he is magic.
Her eyes narrowed as her gaze became skeptical. She examined his markings again, allowing a finger to trace them before returning her hand to his hair. She looked down upon him once more, his form appearing to sleep, but his soul venturing further and further away.
"You cannot be..." Her words were a warm breath on the wind, carried to his ear and caressing his mind. Her thumb brushed over his forehead again in an almost affectionate manner. Her face was now empty as she debated with herself and the strong feeling she had in her heart. Finally, she relinquished. "You are, aren't you?"
She looked down at his wound again and let her fingers delicately dance over his bronzed skin. She could feel muscle, taut and firm, beneath his skin and protecting his bones. The wounds looked angry and painful. She took her hand back and reached into a small leather satchel at her hip, searching for something in its recesses. She found an oblong, smooth amber crystal and pulled it forth.
She placed the stone nearest his wounds, balancing it easily on his abdomen. She hovered her hand over his wound and the amber, left hand remaining on his head. Her fingers brushed through his hair in a calming manner and then sat heavily on his crown. She closed her eyes and felt the warm sensation build in her chest and then radiate through her arms, releasing itself through her hands in a soft golden glow.
She was startled after a moment when the man jolted awake and caught her right wrist unyieldingly in his large hand. He twisted her wrist upwards, pain searing up her forearm. He growled and groaned, trying to pull his thoughts together. She looked down at him, seeing the panic in his eyes and cooed to him.
"Calm down. I only wish to help." Her voice was soft, gently, reassuring. Her hand in his hair moved, fingers tenderly rubbing over his skull to calm him. "Please. I need my hand back."
"What is your name, witch?" His deep, rumbling voice was littered with pain. His jaw tensed and his body shook. She could see him growing angrier, fiercer. "Your name!"
"I am no witch." She kept herself calm easily, stroking his hair and meeting his intense gaze. "My name is not important. What is important, Druid, is that you need healing or else you will perish here in this cave."
"How do you know what I am?" His words were a growl as his eyes narrowed at her in surprise that she knew what he was. His jaw tensed and teeth gritted together, body in so much pain from his wounds. He raised his head and her hand fell away.
"I have not seen one of your kind in a long while. That can only mean that you have a great purpose here and now. A purpose that you cannot afford the long sleep that death brings." Her words were steady and thoughtful, easy and purposeful. Even in his despicable state, he could sense she was unafraid and resolute. It was as if she already knew this tale; knew the words and the rhyme as though she had lived through it before.
"What are you?" His voice had lost its ferocity and instead was growing softer with intrigue. He felt no malice from her. Instead, her presence calmed him; warmed him as one might at the meeting of an old friend.
"A healer." She looked at her right wrist, the one he held onto firmly, and then met his gaze again. "Let me heal you, Druid. I feel you have much left to do in this world."
She did feel it; in her bones, her blood, her soul. Something had led her to him purposefully. The forest, the breeze, the earth had led her to this cave and to him. To heal him. To save him. To save the last Druid.
The Druid considered her for a long moment. Fresh sweat beaded at his brow as the pain in his abdomen grew with each passing moment. The features of his face stiffened, muscles taut as he tried to keep his head raised. Slowly he released her wrist, letting his arm fall to his side as he laid his head back down. She returned her left hand to his head and brushed away the sweat, allowing her chilled fingers to cool the skin of his face. She placed her hand to his forehead, his temple, his cheek. She cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb over his cheekbone beneath his eye.
"You are safe, Druid. Relax." She smiled warmly down at him and then looked back to her right hand. She picked up the amber and set it back on his abdomen before hovering her hand over it and his wound. She stood up straight and closed her eyes. She felt the healing energy build up within her again and then travel through her arms to her hands where the golden glow grew.
"You wield magic." The Druid's voice was soft and labored. She opened her eyes and stared across the cave to the stone wall.
"I suppose you can call it that." She gave a small shrug and smiled down at him with big blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark light of the cave. "Vis is what I call it."
"I do not know this tongue." The Druid explained as he stared up at the ceiling of the cave. She looked back at her right hand, at the golden glow that emitted from her palm. She examined his wounds as they slowly crept closed, healing up into nothing more than thin scars.
"A language long since forgotten." She breathed out as though finding herself lost in her ability. She turned her head and found that the Druid stared at her with dark, warm brown eyes that reminded her of the richest soil. They were the eyes of a man who had seen much more than he was meant to. Despite his outward appearance that spoke of a man in his mid-life, his eyes told another story.
She looked away from his gaze and back at his wounds. They had nearly healed, but they were deep within the muscle and muscle was harder to repair. She felt the glow, the energy, flow harder through her and into his wounds. She met his eyes once more and placed her hand back on his crown, fingers playing in his dark hair. She felt more energy emerging from her left hand, a soft blue glow starting from her palm.
The Druid suddenly realized she was not only healing his body. A calm came over his mind, one he had not felt before, and spread throughout him.
"What are you doing to me?" The Druid asked, voice heavy and eyes beginning to close.
"I am calming your mind so that you may have a restful sleep." She answered without shame, continuing her ministrations in his hair. "Let it overcome you."
The Druid's eyes began to close, his breathing becoming gentle and steady. A hand caught her arm, the one that's hand sat on his head, and gripped her firmly.
"Your name." The Druid's voice was heavy. "Tell me your name."
"If we should ever meet again," the woman with the light golden hair and deep blue eyes, leaned closer to his face with a serene smile on her pink lips, "we will exchange names as equals, Druid."
She lowered her lips to his forehead and pressed them tenderly to his skin. The Druid felt his will drain away and closed his eyes once more, succumbing to the restful sleep she had promised.
She pulled her lips away from him, smiling at the slumbering Druid, and looked to her healing hand. His wounds had healed on the surface and were nearly completed below. Another moment went by before she was completely finished. She felt the energy dissipate and the glow faded. She withdrew the oblong amber from his abdomen, allowing her fingers to gently trace the remnants of his battle wounds. She looked to his face and found herself smiling once more as she took in his visage.
His face was chiseled as though from stone, but his features held warmth. His skin was bronzed as though the sun itself had bestowed the color upon him. Shoulders were broad as well as back. Chest was muscled and taut. He reminded her of an Alder tree; strong and resolute with branches embracing those who sought shelter beneath his arms.
"You certainly are the most handsome Druid my eyes have ever lain upon. May you accomplish what you are here for and find happiness along the way." She leaned over him, hand brushing through his tendrils, and lowered her lips to his cheek. "Astra inclinant, sed non obligant. Good luck."
She released her hand from his head and headed out of the cave. She looked to her left and then to her right, heading back down the hill. She never looked back, but held a smile on her lips as she headed for the river.
"We shall meet again my dearest Druid."
Astra inclinant, sed non obligant - the stars incline us, they do not bind us