When Mozenrath opened his eyes around the apogee of the sun, he was surprised to find a buxom woman with thick eyelashes and dark hair cuddled next to him. It was almost as shocking as realizing neither of them had clothing. She was a pretty thing, her arms wrapped tightly around his frame and smiling. He sat up and groaned, his head pounding like thunder. As soon as he looked around he realized he was not in Tristan's home, but surrounded by other men about his age, none of them seemed to be without a companion in the bunk with him. Most unclothed, and all with pleased smiles on their faces. Something in him rejected this close contact and he stirred, trying to untangle himself from the long, strong arms of the wench holding him.
She moved the moment he did and smiled. "Well hello there sleepy head." She grabbed his waist and pulled him back down. "You left me disappointed last night, sleeping so soundly with a body like mine so near." She stretched unashamed and it left Mozenrath no doubt that no man actually slept in the same bed with her.
"I...did?" he shook himself, reaching for the sheets to cover himself. What exactly had happened, he recalled a grove, singing, dancing, and a man wearing antlers.
It came back to him in a flash and he jerked out of Savern's grip, reaching around for clothing that looked familiar. He slipped on a pair of trousers and headed for the door. He backed away slowly, seeing a familiar shadow fall across the flap. He breathed in deep, looking around for a place to hide. Suddenly the woman's arms criss crossed around his shoulder and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Don't be afraid, if they meant death for you it would have been done last night."
Iaine opened the door and did not look at all surprised to see Savern wrapped around Mozenrath. "Well, I see someone celebrated Beltane properly." She forced a smile and rummaged around till she found Mozenrath's tunic and boots and handed them to him. "You had quite an eventful night last night Mozenrath."
"Y…yes. About that, I…I didn't mean to intrude…I was just…"
"Trying to escape and blundered in." Iaine finished somewhat snappishly. "Yes we figured that out already. What you saw was a private ritual, not meant for non druidic eyes." She was, he noticed, dressed down from the last time he saw, as if she'd risen quickly to find him. Her stunning eyes had dark circles under them and if he didn't know better, Mozenrath would say she was suffering from little sleep and a hangover. She looked disheveled. "Look your best, the druids want to see you."
He was led across the town, still pulling his tunic over his head and nervous. What were they going to do? Had he broken some taboo? Had his interruption been so horrible that he was going to be the next man in the deer suit? He steeled his nerves and forced a calm over his body. If they thought they could kill him with the drugs and blades, they were sadly mistaken, he would fight every last one of them!
Aside from his fear, Mozenrath noticed that he was being taken notice of by nearly everyone in town. Fingers were being pointed and a wide berth was being given to the hung over druid apprentice and her companion. Maybe it was the look on Iaine's face, she did seem a great deal more sour than the last time. Something else stuck him, he had not been a sodden drunk when she looked at him in the tent. Maybe her eyes didn't work when she was imbibing.
He looked around the village, marking any way he might escape if there was trouble. Not that he'd get far, these people probably knew the territory better than he did. He should have thought of that last night. Mozenrath was being led to another of those huts, this one decked with archaic symbols that spoke to something in him. This tent was protected somehow, he knew it, there was a strange vibration in his bones that set off a chime like ring in his ear. Would he even be able to enter? Iaine came to the doorway and knelt forward, placing two fingers to her lips and then to the doorframe.
The ringing in his ears stopped short suddenly and he was ushered in. As soon as they had entered, Iaine repeated the gesture and the vibration snapped back against him. It took a moment for them to go from the bright noon light to the darkness of the hut. Mozenrath was surprised to see that rather than be cluttered with a mass of property like the others he'd been in, this one was large and relatively simple. Most of the people occupying it were either lounging on animal skins or sitting on stools and speaking with one another. There was a general air of apprehension as they noticed him, one by one stopping their conversations to look him over. He had somehow moved in the center of them all and felt paranoid to be gazed at in such a way.
He suddenly scowled, slipped one foot and leaned in an arrogant and haughty fashion, meeting each gaze in turn. There was a chuckle from somewhere in the room and Mozenrath noticed a matronly woman handing Iaine a root of some sort. She swallowed it down and in a few minuets looked much better. A cauldron was bubbling near the center and as tipped his head back to look inside.
"You can gaze if you wish."
The voice was so abrupt he didn't know where it came from. He looked around, but no one showed signs of having spoken. Mozenrath turned back to the bubbling pot, the scent of sage and jasmine wafting around him as he approached. If the spell around the hut caused a chime, this caused a giant brass bell to go off in his body. He reach out gingerly with his ungloved hand and a hiss arose from the cauldron.
"Not that way. Be strong, be confident."
Mozenrath was feeling heady, the smoke clouding his eyes as his senses slowly flooded with a familiar yet estranged sensation. He leaned forward, feeling as though he would fall into the cauldron and drown himself in the water. He saw a pool of blackness at the bottom, a mirror image of himself stared back up at him through the dark pot. "I don't understand…" he whispered.
"You will…" The voice was Iaine's soft and soothing. "Just look and let yourself go. And you will."
Mozenrath gripped the side of the cauldron, the heat from it blazing through one hand and took a deep breath. The smoke filled his lungs but he suddenly felt no need to breath. The world around him began to spin and the water in the cauldron hummed a clear, resonate note. Mozenrath blinked, and the world around him had changed.
It was dusk, the fire in the sky blazing out across the landscape to color the world bellow. Under his feet was rich red earth, fertile and bursting with energy. A field of wheat, ripe and golden in the breeze surrounded him on all sides, sheep and their shepards enjoying the balmy day. Mozenrath breathed in and the sweet mellow scent filled his body with life. He looked down at his arms and found them replenished, whole, even a little muscular. He was different somehow, closer to something he had never felt close to before. There was a presence in his body he was unaccustomed to, but at ease with. Something prompted him to turn.
A sight met his eyes that confused him. Amidst all this natural wealth lay a tree, cold and dead. It seemed surrounded by gray and black, old, decrepit and stale. Could trees be stale? He didn't know.
As Mozenrath approached the tree a slithering feeling went down his leg. A snake, bright green with kaleidoscopic eye crept forward, turning it's head to look at him. It…bowed…then continued onward, moving it's long agile body up the tree.
As soon as it wound it's self around the top most branch, the tree creaked and groaned, swaying to life as an old man rising from a comfortable seat. It shivered, and the branches wielded little bronze acorns. Then, as if this had taken all it's energy to do so, it slumped once again, and a single acorn fell to the ground.
Without thinking, Mozenrath moved forward to the tree, his hands reaching out to touch it. With sudden ferocity the snake struck, driving it's fangs deep into Mozenrath's flesh. He screamed in pain, pulling away as the venom ate away at his hand, returning it to horrid bleached bone.
"Why?"
He begged the answer from the serpents mouth.
"Why!"
Mozenrath hollered in rage!
The snake merely looked at him, gauging his reaction, and turned away.
Mozenrath came back to the physical world with a shock, landing on his backside in the dirt and animal skins. The druids stood around him, some with smiles of expectation on their lips, others with a sour grimace. "What…what happened?" he started as Tristan helped him to his feet slowly. A glass of warm ale was shoved into his hands and he drank it down, the reality of this world settling back into him.
"You saw." Iaine said softly, she among those smiling. "He has the sight Tristan, there is no denying it now."
Tristan nodded. 'No there certainly isn't." he reached out and too Mozenrath's hand, clasping it firmly within his own. "Welcome to the world of Druidry my friend."
"Say…what?" Mozenrath choked on his drink.