I tuck my green cloak around me once more and disappear into the forest. Many of my kind feel the need to hide what they are, but not me. The time when I feared my existence is long since over. I am a druid chieftain and I am proud of my heritage, and my people. I shall not cower in fear for being blessed with a gift others do not understand. Even so I do know how to move around unseen in a kingdom afraid of embracing what is merely a part of the world we live in. If the purge has taught me anything it has shown me how to protect my kind.
Nature is not where I hide, but it is where I reside and I feel at home here. The smell of green grasses, the whisper of the wind through the leaves around me and the sound of birdsong offer a background to my life. The cave offers us shelter from the rain. Though on some days I cherish to feel its cool wetness wash my face clear from the dust of life.
Behind the pine trees a stream quenches my thirst. Bushes with sweet tasting berries and the odd careless hare, or pheasant, fill my stomach. My heart is not that of a hunter, but I do understand the satisfaction of the taste of meat. Killing a living being however, no matter what it may be, never fails to make me feel sad.
Screams and cries of battle invade our peace. It is a heartbreaking sound I had hoped to leave behind in my past. Sadly for as long as there are kings and armies it seems mankind is doomed to fight. Maybe I should stay well clear of it, or maybe I should gather my tribe and run… but when someone is hurt it is not within me to leave them in pain.
The green of the forest should not smell like blood, nor should it be smeared by its ugliness, but in this part it does. A coppery tang mixes with the ancient smell of dirt and decayed leaves. I can hear the moans of the fallen echo in my mind. We are too late though. Every knight I touch meets me with the cold silence of death, even though their bodies are still warm in memory of life.
I should hate what these men stand for, and maybe the boy in me who barely survived the purge does, but being who I am I cannot live with the loss of life. All I can feel in my heart is the pointless waste of battle. Hatred to me never solved anything; in fact it only makes matters worse as this sad battlefield proves to me once more. So many losses in the name of war. How can anyone bear it? With a heavy heart I search on for a sign of life. Someone… please? Have mercy on these men.
His groans of pain are no more than a whispered plea for help. I sense how his spirit drains out of him faster than the flow of the blood which leaves his body. His breathing comes with a desperate stutter. Underneath my fingers I feel his pulse slow down. It drives home the point fast. I sense that my healing magic alone is not enough though. No, we need to take more drastic measures, so I call for the only action I can.
In a blur of green and brown cloaks we hurry through the bushes and trees. A groan of his desperate struggle to survive makes me even more determined. "Hurry", I urge my people in our shared mind's voice. They need little encouragement though, for we have come to an unspoken agreement this human being, just like any other, has the right to survive.
It is when our voices mingle in an ancient and powerful chant linked to the Cup of Life that I feel the true power of my tribe is more than just magic. The green ad brown of our cloaks reflects the core of whom and what we are. Nature is around us and woven deep within our souls, or at least it should be. We can not live in peace while we do not listen to it. It makes me feel regret for those who lost their touch with the world around us.
My heart soars with pride when the knight walks off into the forest, alive and well again, albeit a little weak still. Both our fates lie in the hands of ancient Gods of the earth. I do not need to have the seer's power to sense how magic touched him. It is all in the way he does not fear me and he clasps my wrist before he leaves.
Maybe it is foolish of me to think we made a difference here, but time can only tell. For now I just become one with the forest again and await the arrival of the great Emrys as foretold in my people's prophecies. Changes come slow, but I am a patient man.