Chapter 3: The Meeting of Mysteries
"As you wish." Auron replied, his look of surprise quickly fading back into its customary neutral. He gently lifted his boot from the woman's throat and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers.
She rose to her feet in a single graceful motion, and took a step back herself, allowing a more comfortable distance between them. Remarkable, he thought, considering her condition only a few moments ago.
"Are you allright?" He asked, in a perfect monotone. "As well as could be expected, and you?" Came the calm reply, her pale eyes momentarily flashing. A low chuckle of unconcerned amusement rumbled in Auron's throat. "I am fine."
Auron glanced down at the position of his shadow on the dew-laden grass, and knew at once that he had been here too long. It was at least an hour past daybreak, the others would be up by now. His head was full of questions for this woman, but he had not the luxury of posing them.
"Well then, safe journey." And with that spoken Auron turned on his heel and began his way back to the trees, his purposeful stride lengthening out to cover ground.
The woman turned to watch him go, blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure. She suddenly found the whole thing strangely amusing and laughed... a clear, melodic sound, echoing across the clearing.
The echo of her laughter reached Auron just as he was passing the tree line. He did not turn his head or break his stride at the sound, although he could feel gooseflesh beginning to ripple across the taught skin of his forearms (not a completely unpleasant sensation). But he was irritated. A mystery... he didn't like mysteries. He was adept at perpetrating them, but he did not care for being on the receiving end of one... it meant a loss of control he was not accustomed to. He had perceived no threat to Yuna or her journey from this woman, her intentions were not hostile. And yet... her presence here disturbed him, in a way he could not fully articulate in his mind. Her strange garments, her skill as a fighter, and something more, maybe a lot more. "Hmmph!" He grunted, making his way through the forest, now come alive with warmer morning light and the scurrying activity of its small inhabitants.
She watched as he disappeared into the trees, a final flash of his crimson robe, then gone. He certainly must be a confident fellow, with that bright garment. It would surely scream "attack me" to every fiend within sight of him she thought, as she looked down at the color of her own attire... its sole purpose to conceal her presence, not announce it. But then, there was also the symbolism of the color red... strength, courage, power, sacrifice. And perhaps he did embody all those things, for the aura of his powerful presence still lingered here, like a ghostly apparition.
Was it possible she had found the Chosen One? So soon? She had only left the island two days ago. She had briefly tried to use her gift, sending it out in a straight line between her mind and his, but had been unable to sense his feelings. His mind, complex and vast, was like a stone wall, impenetrable.
She knew what she must do. She would follow, but she would have to do it carefully. This man was obviously not one to be trifled with.
"As you wish." Auron replied, his look of surprise quickly fading back into its customary neutral. He gently lifted his boot from the woman's throat and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers.
She rose to her feet in a single graceful motion, and took a step back herself, allowing a more comfortable distance between them. Remarkable, he thought, considering her condition only a few moments ago.
"Are you allright?" He asked, in a perfect monotone. "As well as could be expected, and you?" Came the calm reply, her pale eyes momentarily flashing. A low chuckle of unconcerned amusement rumbled in Auron's throat. "I am fine."
Auron glanced down at the position of his shadow on the dew-laden grass, and knew at once that he had been here too long. It was at least an hour past daybreak, the others would be up by now. His head was full of questions for this woman, but he had not the luxury of posing them.
"Well then, safe journey." And with that spoken Auron turned on his heel and began his way back to the trees, his purposeful stride lengthening out to cover ground.
The woman turned to watch him go, blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure. She suddenly found the whole thing strangely amusing and laughed... a clear, melodic sound, echoing across the clearing.
The echo of her laughter reached Auron just as he was passing the tree line. He did not turn his head or break his stride at the sound, although he could feel gooseflesh beginning to ripple across the taught skin of his forearms (not a completely unpleasant sensation). But he was irritated. A mystery... he didn't like mysteries. He was adept at perpetrating them, but he did not care for being on the receiving end of one... it meant a loss of control he was not accustomed to. He had perceived no threat to Yuna or her journey from this woman, her intentions were not hostile. And yet... her presence here disturbed him, in a way he could not fully articulate in his mind. Her strange garments, her skill as a fighter, and something more, maybe a lot more. "Hmmph!" He grunted, making his way through the forest, now come alive with warmer morning light and the scurrying activity of its small inhabitants.
She watched as he disappeared into the trees, a final flash of his crimson robe, then gone. He certainly must be a confident fellow, with that bright garment. It would surely scream "attack me" to every fiend within sight of him she thought, as she looked down at the color of her own attire... its sole purpose to conceal her presence, not announce it. But then, there was also the symbolism of the color red... strength, courage, power, sacrifice. And perhaps he did embody all those things, for the aura of his powerful presence still lingered here, like a ghostly apparition.
Was it possible she had found the Chosen One? So soon? She had only left the island two days ago. She had briefly tried to use her gift, sending it out in a straight line between her mind and his, but had been unable to sense his feelings. His mind, complex and vast, was like a stone wall, impenetrable.
She knew what she must do. She would follow, but she would have to do it carefully. This man was obviously not one to be trifled with.