The sun was steadily climbing higher and higher, but within the dense tangle of the forest it was all dark browns and rich verdant greens. Even within this deep shape the sweltering heat mounted.
Still Lance ran on. Sweat like a suffocating blanket draped over him, soaking through his clothing and sticking it to his skin in gross, dragging swaths. But he was able to ignore it, for now. Wide blue eyes flicked back and forth in a near feverish delirium. Catching on a bramble of blackberry blossoms, soft petals with barely the first flush of pink upon them, before sliding past and landing on the husk of an old rotted out log, fresh greenery growing out of the decay. He almost tripped over this, lunging past it at the very last moment.
Despite the stark contrast Lance almost missed the first flash of pure white in the gloom. Fuzzy with the high temperatures his mind interpreted the movement as the mere flash of a wing, the fall of a feather. He turned towards it as if on instinct alone, some long lost, blood deep push to simply follow.
It wasn't even the second time he thought he saw the long strands, catching almost silver in an odd ray of sunlight that managed to break through the mossy canopy, for perhaps it could have been an elaborate spiders web, woven for the sole purpose of capture.
It was not even the third time, though as the curling locks were whipped out of sight Lance blinked, droplets of sweat slid down into his eyes, setting a sting to them as he focused on the tree where the movement had been… or at least where he'd thought it was…
The boy rubbed at his eyes, noticing for the first time the aches in his own body, leg muscles cramping as they were finally given a rest. Thirst scratched up his throat like a wild beast attempting to escape. Exhaustion pulling at his limbs. Looking around him, all of these and more clouding his thoughts, unsure of what to do next, and yet unwilling to give up this one fleeting hope quite yet.
Before Lance had to figure out his next step a figure shifted in the mid-distance, moving away from him. It wasn't so much the strangeness of the unlikely possibility of running into someone else out here (was his heart rate going this fast simply because he'd been running?) No…. it was the color of the long hair, flowing behind her like a cloak.
The witch… he had found her.
His heart skipped up into his throat, blocking his voice as his lips formed the word 'wait.'
Before he could even blink though her mysterious figure had disappeared yet again. Shifting behind another tree as if she were one. Before he realized it Lance's long legs were pumping once more. Vision tunneling to the last place he'd seen her…. Or was it over there? His head snapped back and forth so quickly he almost missed the next glimmer of pristine, trailing hair; to the far right, back from where he'd been he thought.
With a pivot his feet slid in the sediment. His gaze couldn't manage to lock on, and again she had vanished. The boy used one of the curse words he'd often heard his father grunt out when he was doing something difficult, spinning in place Lance grew dizzy with it, almost giddy.
It continued on like this, the youth gaining ground, losing ground. These teasing glimpses lead him in random, contradicting directions.
Twisting roots caught up his sneakered feet. Each time this happened he managed to catch himself. Each almost fall brought a gasped giggle to the very edge of his lips. Until the final time when he simply tripped over his own feet. Skidding into the dirt as the air was pushed out of his lungs.
He stayed like this, splayed across the ground, breathe wheezing in and out of aching lungs, for who knows how long. Until, with a grunt Lance rolled onto his back.
"Dios mio soy tan tonto—" He muttered, pressing the heels of his hands tight against his lids. Hadn't Pidge always told him that she was the brains of their little group? He'd never really been the best at making well thought out decisions. Maybe he should have listened to them…. Or his family…. Or heck even if his poor crazy abuela hadn't meant this at all. Hadn't meant anything by her words. If he'd just—
"Are you okay?"
One of the most beautiful voices Lance had ever heard rang out, lilting in a foreign accent, the type the boy had only heard on his Tia's tele-novellas.
Lance shot up, head snapped to the right, and then the left, eyes scanning the gnarled trunks that surrounded him so densely. He blinked his eyes, rubbing knuckles across them. Almost convinced he had simply made the voice up, hearing things on top of seeing them…. Great. With a grunt he fell back into the soft dirt.
"You have been laying there for quite a while."
Again that voice! Once more Lance's head sprang back up so swiftly it gave a resounding crack. But still there was no one in sight.
Perhaps… he was going crazy. He snorted. After all he was out here in the woods, looking for a bruja as if magic could fix everything… could save his sister…. As if magic even existed at all.
Lance relaxed into the fallen leaves and sediment. It was the middle of summer, so they were not fresh, they did not crunch in a satisfactory manner as he did this, and only the earthy odor of long botanical decay rose up around him, not the crisp aroma that autumn lent the forest. The rest of his energy draining from him.
"You were almost upright again!" This time there was laughter in the tone.
But this time Lance didn't have to look around. There was a face hovering right above his own. Hair as soft and as pearlescent as clouds, thick curling locks even shaped like the most perfect of billowing nimbus fell about a flawlessly angular, practically angelic features, housed within a dusky complexion that almost mirrored his own, that contrasted in such a lovely way with her mane and settled around his head, brushing up against his ears and cheeks like the caress of a long lost friend. Small, simple markings at the corner of her eyes glowed in a soft cerise. Oh her eyes, which refracted the jade of the forest light into a jeweled prism of cerulean and rose, edged and faceted and focused entirely upon him.
These were not the eyes of a blind witch, nor did Lance see his own death within her endless irises. Despite this he still averted his gaze swiftly. Afraid, though it made no sense, that he would somehow instead see Rachel's end.
"You're not the witch!" Lance blurted out. So many other words had all jumbled up behind his lips and yet these were the ones that had somehow made it past the cage of his teeth.
"Excuse me?" The beautiful apparition moved out of his line of sight and though he could no longer see those flawless features her tone alone was enough to portray the vexation.
Lance scrambled to his feet, spinning so fast that he almost fell again.
"Wait, are you the witch?"
Right side up this woman was even more beautiful somehow, a feat that Lance would have not believed if he'd not seen it with his own two eyes. She stood her full height, fully affronted.
"How dare you, pathetic little mortal!" The accent she spoke with grew heavier as the rage cloyed from her tongue to circle around her. This wasn't metaphorical. Energy the color of the sky at dawn crackled around her tightly. But even at this distance every hair upon his own body stood up on end. A scent akin to thunder filled the space around him.
Despite the instinctual push of his body to run run RUN away from this inhuman creature Lance stayed rooted.
"You totally are!" Lance pointed, as if that would drive this truth home. "That's-that's totally magic ain't it! Mierda!" The last word was breathless, and for a few moments after this he was simply struck speechless-for once.
Her airy hair began to raise along with the energy around them and her eyes flashed dangerously. But Lance paid that no mind, hope filled his heart so fully that he felt as if he was overflowing with it. All of the exhaustion drained from him as he took in this otherworldly vision.
She wasn't dressed in rags at all, but was resplendent in a long, figure hugging dress of varying hues of blue. White and rose accents highlighted the woman's curves, and the splashes of gold made her appear almost royal. Lance didn't know much about fashion, but the cut was almost transcendental in it's design, and the boy found it hard to look away, or to take in more than a few details at a time. As Lance studied her she visibly began to calm, a look of curiosity replacing the previous look across her features, and all Lance could really think of, now that the all encompassing fear had been lifted for these blissful moments, was HAH Marco had been so wrong! (and Lance couldn't wait to tell him!)
"You are awfully deep into the woods human." Her voice no longer held as threatening of an edge, and her coiling tresses began to slowly settle. As the alabaster ripples came to rest they revealed another feature Lance had yet to notice.
"Yeah! I mean I am I know, I uh, I was looking for the witch, I mean you of course, and I can't really believe I found you but—" Lance's hands were moving about him chaotically as he spoke, nerves spiking against his tongue in a sharp flavor as he rambled.
Her ears were long and pointed right at the end, an elegant, if somewhat severe angle. But that couldn't be right…. Witches were still human…. Weren't they?
"I. Am. Not. A. Witch." The woman huffed, crossing her arms. "Of all things—" While the first part of her statement was enunciated, punctuated, and almost leveled at Lance as a shout, this last part was a mere mumble under her breath, though Lance still caught it.
"Uh, then what are you?" The words were out of his mouth before he could really think. Once they were out he couldn't pull them back, and he cringed, knowing how blunt and tactless they had sounded. (How many times had he been warned by his mama of this very thing?)
An idea was teasing the very edges of his mind, but before it could fully form Lance was already pushing it away. It was just too ludicrous!
A look that was perhaps universal crossed her alluring face, one eyebrow raising as her eyes flashed in a way that could have been a dare. An almost smirk curved the edges of her lips up just so as she watched this human child struggle with this slow, but inevitable, realization.
It felt like the ground had suddenly fallen out from beneath him as the world around him expanded.
"You're an elf!"