Nocturnal creatures perched above the forest floor. Their number, size and contours were obscured by the sweeping darkness. Their eyes shone with what little moonlight penetrated the canopy, warning any traveller foolish enough to brave the forest that they were watching. An experienced woodsman could use their eyes as a beacon, a faithful guide through the labyrinthine wooded corridors. The smaller eyes gathered in numbers, taking shelter in larger trees which a weary traveler might stake camp to stay dry. The predators stalked the undergrowth, following long established hunting corridors, carved out from the shrubs and tall grass through generations of fruitful hunts. Following these trails offered the quickest means through any forest, provided the traveler was keen eyed and fleet of foot. Some of the creatures which claimed ownership of these pathways did not distinguish between their familiar prey and human or elf.
Speed came with risk. The wise exercised caution.
Caution, however, was cast to the wind by the desperate navigator who sprinted through the forest. He did not have the luxury of weighing risk. To him, danger was irrelevant. Only time and the object of his query mattered. As he moved swiftly along a treacherous hunting route carved by a sizable beast, the creatures above offered the only sounds in the otherwise silent night. The pitter-patter of footsteps, breaking branches, and short screeches trailed overhead to alert their fellow tree dwellers that an intruder had been spotted.
The young Earthblood elf came to a crossroads in the hunting trail. One fork veered to the right, and the other sharply left. He fretted whether he could afford to make a mistake and double back. In his mind, it seemed doubtful. If he chose poorly, everything would fall apart. He took a breath.
"Just...calm down," he whispered, quietly enough as not to alert any nearby set of tooth and claw.
"Remember, you are an Earthblood elf," he continued. "You know the forest, you belong in the forest, If I ask of the forest, the forest will provide." He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts. The image of what he sought came into view. A particular plant with very distinct appearance, behaviour, and properties. He needed to find one.
With the image of the plant in his minds eye, his skin began to change. A dim iridescence tracked its way across his body, like vines expanding through jungle. The trees and plants around him responded in the faintest of manner, leaning toward him. The movement was so subtle it would appear, to the uninitiated, as only a gentle wind blowing through their leaves. The forest did not behave as those that walked, flew, or slithered. It did not make a commotion. But the forest was generous. The attentive plants were known to reveal the secrets of their home. Which plants were safe to eat, and which were not. They would tell old tales of forest fires, come and gone. One could listen to centuries of observances from mighty oaks, recorded in their rings since they were saplings.
The elf submitted his question.
"I'm looking for a flower. Will you tell me where I can find it?"
He asked it twice, first as a question, and then as a plea, stressing the stakes.
"I need to know where to find this or death will claim someone I love,' he exclaimed.
The forest, like all forests, did not welcome unscheduled death. The forest did not fear death, as all of its inhabitants were destined to cease to be and to give rise to new things. However, an equilibrium existed in the forest. The seasons dictated when things should pass and when things should be born. The looming death that tormented the elf did not adhere to the forest cycle. It would not bring rebirth or new life. It would be a pointless death. Bad tidings surrounded pointless deaths. Anger, axe, and flame were not uncommon. For this reason, the denizens of the forest provided the elf the assistance he sought.
"Left? Go left?!" he asked.
The forest did not repeat itself. Communicating with the non-rooted demanded great effort, and the citizens of the forest quickly returned to their vegetative stasis, preserving their energy until the sun would rise in the morning.
"Left," he decided, putting his self-doubt aside.
He pushed his legs harder against the forest floor, propelling his body down the corridor with greater haste. The path seemed to narrow as he continued. He felt that he was honing in on his target. He would be upon it soon.
A sweet smell was soon carried by the night air. The aroma was very weak at first, but became more intense as he barreled down the corridor. There was no doubt now that he was on the right path. He had tracked is query well, but he feared that he lacked time.
"Please, please, please, just hold on a little longer," he begged.
The corridor at last ended, giving way to a seemingly vacant clearing. In the otherwise dense forest, such a clearing appeared out of place. Trees did not grow there, nor did shrub or grass; it looked little more than a barren lot of dirt. Yet, the space was not truly empty. In the middle, his query sprouted from the soil.
A single flower grew in the clearing, diminutive yet standing proud. It was the source of the aroma that had guided him. A rigid stalk grew no more than four finger lengths tall. Atop the stalk sat long, darkly coloured petals with pure white veins that shimmered in the moonlight. The petals curled into a brilliant bulb, inviting anyone who may have taken in the scent to step closer. This invitation shrouded the duality of the flower. Earthblood elves were taught as much at a young age. The forest, while generous, is not without conflict or danger. The clearing in which the plant grew was a warning of such danger. The seemingly unnatural open space was caused not by human or elf, but by the trepidation of the plants around the perimeter. Getting too close could spell the end for plant and animal alike. Thus, the lonely flower stood alone, a forest of one.
As the young elf moved briskly toward the flower. His mind raced with the events that had set him on this journey, where shortly before he had believed himself to be at journey's end.
Terry paced back and forth on the beachhead. Each second seemed longer than the last. The only indication that time marched forward was his heartbeat, a reliable metronome that grew louder and harder with each beat. The beating grew so hard that it hurt inside his chest. It pushed not only blood through his veins, but doubt and fear. A feeling of utter helplessness weighted heaviest. He could offer not help. He could only wait, and hope.
"Come on, Claudia. Don't do this to me. Don't do this," he muttered. "Where are you?"
He repeated this question over and over again.
Countless paces later, the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the beach suddenly changed. Something had likely come ashore. For a moment, Terry's heart jumped. His hair stood up on his neck as he surveyed the shoreline. Something had come ashore. Something was slumped in the sand, and crawled from the depths with desperation.
"Claudia!" Terry called as he raced to her side. Kneeling down, he took her in his arms. She lifted her head and met his eyes. The pain in her heart leapt through her stare and into him. Tears formed in her eyes, and quickly burst forth and ran down her cheeks. Terry held her tighter, attempting to offer comfort.
Claudia winced in pain and stumbled forward, favouring her left leg. From his kneeling position, Terry observed the cause of her pain. Her leg had been severed just below the knee. Terry gasped in shock and horror.
"Uarrgghhhhh!" Claudia bellowed, tears streaming ever faster.
Terry gathered his wits as quickly as he could. There was no time to ask about the cause of such brutality. Her life was in danger, and he needed to act fast to save it.
"Claudia, lie down," he instructed as he loosened his embrace and placed one hand on her back and the other on her shoulder. He guided her to to the sand, resting her on her back.
Claudia tightly squeezed her eyes closed, trying to convince herself that none of what she was feeling was real, and that she would soon wake up from a terrible nightmare. She bit her lower lip and grimaced deeper, the only pain worsening and the nightmare continuing.
"Listen to me, love. I can't imagine how much this hurts, but you're going to get through it. I promise!" Terry assured. "You've just got to bare with it for a little bit. Just follow my lead. Can you do that?"
Claudia kept her eyes shut, attempting to hold in her tears in the hope that it would ease the pain.
"Claudia, do you hear me?"
"Where...where's my dad?" Claudia managed to choke out.
Terry lifted his head. Viren was nowhere to be seen. Terry wondered when and where had he gone. And more importantly, why?
"I don't know where he is, Claudia! But I need to treat this, or you are going to die! And I need your help!" the elf shouted.
"Daaaaad!" the young mage screamed, "W-where are you?! I-I'm s-scared! It hurts!" She began to pull away from Terry, dragging herself toward the darkness in search of her father.
"Hhughh! Daaad!" she screeched in a shrill voice, reaching out for the father that was not there.
Terry at last took charge of the chaos. He placed both his hands on her shoulders and firmly guided her to the sand.
'Claudia, do you want to live or do you want to die!?" he questioned her.
Claudia's eyes settled on Terry. She seemed to take account of her dire situation at last.
"I...I..d-don't wanna...die-"
"I don't want you to die either!" Terry shouted. "So follow my lead!"
Terry placed has hands above her knee. Her pants were soaked with seawater and blood. He lifted his palm and found that it had been stained dark red. He then used both bands to roll up the remnants of her pant leg to her thigh. With the wound now fully visible, Terry weighed how to proceed.
"The cut was clean, it'll make it easier to treat," Terry explained. "And it looks like your spell caused it to be a lot less bad than it could have been. It seems like it tried to close itself, like the leg was never there in the first place. But you're still losing blood. A lot of blood, Claudia. The first thing I'm going to do is stop the bleeding."
Terry turned his gaze and met Claudia's eyes. He could see the panic once again setting in. If she could not remain calm, she would not survive.
"Claudia," he instructed, "this is going to hurt. No way 'round it. But you've gotta deal with it, okay? You've gotta stay calm as possible. No matter how much it hurts, I need you to...get a grip," Terry ordered.
Claudia then thought about her father, and the things he had imparted upon her. He had taught her that she had strength and determination, and he had nurtured those traits within her. She rallied her resolve, hoping to make her father proud.
Terry lifted his right hand toward the forest that hugged the beach. His skin began to shine as he asked the forest for help. The forest responded quickly. A long slender vine whipped its way from the canopy and along the sand, steering itself directly into Terry's waiting hand. In a swift motion, Terry unsheathed his small knife and severed the end of the vine. The then split the severed end several more times, ending up with many strands. In an instant, he weaved them together to form rope.
"Same technique I use when I braid your hair, love", Terry noted. The attempt at levity was for his own sake, hoping to calm his nerves before he undertook the messy work.
"I'm gonna tie this tightly around your leg. I'm gonna do it on the count of three! Are you ready?" Terry asked.
Claudia forced her eyes to remain open and met Terry's gaze. His eyes were full of confidence and love, which put her at relative ease. She nodded yes and prepared herself.
"Okay. One!' Terry announced loudly as he pulled the newly fashioned rope tightly around her wounded leg.
"Aurrggh", Claudia moaned. "You said... on three!"
"I know, but it holds better when you don't expect it. I'm sorry."
Terry pulled his satchel toward himself and fished trough it, retrieving a small jar filled withed with a thick green substance.
"This a special Earthblood Elf home remedy that will help with the pain. I thought it was only a matter of time before we would need it, so I've been saving it. Now seems as good a time as any."
Terry drew a deep breath.
"Now this is where I need your help. We've got to close the wound before we relieve the pain. We've got to close it with fire. I don't have any fire, so I need you to make me some. Then we put this goopy goodness on it. I'm just gonna smear it on like jelly. But it's gotta go on after the fire or it'll burn away and wont work. So you've gotta be strong one more time."
Claudia nodded.
"...there's a...Starr Beetle...in my bag..." the injured girl instructed.
Terry spotted her bag and grabbed it. He turned it over with a shake, spilling its contents on the beach. He quickly fumbled through several vials until he found the one which fit the description. He opened it and placed the contents in Claudia's bloody hand.
"Nus tresed eht ekil nrub, emalf gnidleiynU!" Claudia spoke, casting the spell. The insect in her palm began to spark. She let it fall from her grasp and onto the beach, just before the flames grew large and white hot.
A slender pillar of fire roared. Terry placed his knife in the heart of the inferno. The heat hurt against his bare hand, but he forced himself to hold steady until the knife glimmered red. Nearly a minute passed before he was confident he had attained the needed temperature. This was a minute, he knew, in which Claudia quivered in pain that he would soon make even worse.
Just as he pulled the knife from the flame, the spell ran its course and the fire sputtered and died.
"..last...beetle," Claudia whimpered.
Terry heeded her warning; he needed succeed on the first try. He carefully drew his knife toward her leg and examined the wound quickly but astutely. The bleeding had slowed considerably. The makeshift dressing had held true. He moved his knife within a thumbs width of her leg, and debated whether to offer her a warning of the inclement pain. They locked eyes as he struggled with the decision; but his struggle was moot.
Wide eyed and tearful, Claudia watched the path of the hot steel, its glow reflecting in her eyes. She clenched her teeth in frightful anticipation.
When the hot steel met flesh, Claudia cried a low huffing sound, as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her muscles tensed, her back arched and she shuddered breathlessly for a moment. When Terry pulled the knife away, she was able to inhale the cool night air while tears ran silently down her face.
"You're probably wondering 'how does he know how to do this?' aren't you?" Terry questioned as he repeated the processes. "Well, a young Earthblood elf out on his own has got to know how to take care of himself, because nobody else is going to. Before I met you I always felt like I was in danger, so I made sure to learn things that would keep me safe when I could. Although, I've never actually had to do any of this before. I mostly read about it in a book."
Terry applied the heated knife three more times before he was sure he had succeeded.
"You did such a good job, I'm so proud of you," Terry comforted her. "The wound's closed. Now we can tend to the pain," he added with a sigh of relief.
Terry unscrewed the jar of elf remedy and scooped some out with his fingers.
"This stuff is slimy, but it's gonna make you feel good," here assured as he lathered the concoction on her leg, first above and then on the wound.
Without delay, Claudia could feel the effects. Her skin began to tingle, and her mouth felt dry. Soon after, she could not feel the sandy beech on her back, rather, she felt like she was weightlessly suspend in air. The sharp, hot pain in her leg began to cool. Her heartbeat slowed as well. Tranquility took hold of her, and her mind wondered away from the bloody scene of which she was the centerpiece. Her eyes remained open, staring at the stars.
"Claudia," Terry called.
The girl did not respond, a sure sign that the medicine was at work.
"We're not out of the woods yet, babe. I've gotta..well...I've gotta go into the woods. The wound is closed, but there's a real danger than this get infected. That won't be good. But I'm not gonna let that happen," the elf proclaimed as he crawled his way to her face to look at her eye to eye. "I know what I need, and I'm gonna save you. I promise. You just gotta keep being strong."
Claudia managed a faint nod of agreement.
"Hold on," Terry pleaded once more as he sprung to his feet and darted toward the forest.
As he entered the tree line he realized that as he departed he did not tell her that he loved her. He would not allow a future in which she would not hear those words again.
Not more than five minutes had passed since Terry entered the forest as he knelt before the flower.
It was beautiful, undeniably.
And undeniably dangerous.
A potent poison coursed through it, and it was equipped with a hidden sting to deliver its weapon. Under the soil, its tendril like roots spread far for such a meagre plant and carried the same dangerous toxin. It was these roots which kept the surrounding plants at a distance. Corruption was in its foundations, unseen by most on the surface, but Terry understood the danger. This knowledge gave him the courage to draw closer.
How had such a tormented flower come to be, he wondered as he gazed upon it. Was it by choice that it came to live in solitude, or happenstance?
Setting his wondering thoughts aside, he let out a deep breath. He stretched out his fingers and cracked his knuckles. The flower was now within reaching distance. He dragged his hand across his chin to sweep away the sweat. He raised his hand and ran his tongue across his lower lip.
He would need to be fast.
With as much speed and precision as he was capable, he ripped his hand through the air and separated the bulb from the stem.
In the instant his hand made contact, the flower responded. From its stem sprang many long barbs. Thick, syrupy ooze bubbled from the ends of each barb, attempting to lay waste to any assailant. A lethal dose for most forest creatures.
But Terry had bested the flower. He had plucked the bulb before the defences could be raised. The petals contained only the faintest traces of the toxin. Not enough to kill an elf or a teenage mage, but able to cull and prevent the small organisms that festered in a wound. The toxin had been intended to kill would be put to use to save a life.
Terry held the flower up in his hands gently. It was so delicate and demanded the greatest care. It was his responsibility to protect it.
"Thanks little flower," Terry said politely with a nod. He was content in the knowledge that the bulb would regrow and the plant would survive, and he did not have to exchange one life for another.
Claudia's image flashed in this mind. He could see her face, contorted with pain. He sprinted forth, pushing the thoughts of her suffering from his mind and replacing them with memories of her smile, laughter, and loving eyes. Those were the faces he was determined to see again.
By the time he stumbled from the forest with exhaustion, a deathly quite had overtaken the beach. He trotted forward, fighting to maintain his balance as the loose sand gave way beneath him. The sky was beginning to lighten in the early hours of the morning. Against this sky, the darkly clad figure sprawled on the beach stood out.
Sliding to his knee through the sand, Terry arrived next to the Claudia, who was still delirious with the elf medicine.
"I'm back," he announced while laying his palm upon her forehead to check if a fever had taken her. Relieved that it had not, he lifted his hand.
"I'm gonna give you one more thing, Claudia. I know I've gotten you to do a lot. I know you just wanna rest now. But first, you've gotta do this for me," he said.
"...for you," Claudia responded meekly.
Terry held the flower in one hand and began to pry the petals apart. He separated five from the others and then set the remainder upon the sand. From those he had removed, he selected the largest and began to massage it between his index finger and thumb. Doing so caused the petal to begin releasing its resin.
"Open wide," he whispered into her ear. "Just hold this on your tongue and suck on it like candy. It's called Mage's Bane. But don't worry, it's a just name. It's not gonna hurt you 'cause you're a mage, I promise."
Claudia gulped, now slightly worried about Terry's judgment. Nevertheless, she cooperated and stuck out her tongue. Terry laid the petal upon it and she pulled it into her mouth. She recoiled from the awful taste and forced herself not to spit it out.
"When that bitter taste disappears I'll give you a new one. But don't shallow it. You really don't wanna swallow these. Just spit it out when it's done."
Claudia frowned. She wished he had given this warning before feeding the petal to her.
Terry now had little to do but wait. He expected each petal to last for half an hour at the most. He'd wait attentively by her side until that time came. While he waited, he placed a hand atop hers, which lay at her side. She didn't respond to his touch. Her hand was cool and damp. Terry tightened his grasp to alleviate her fears.
Before long, the two fell into a rhythm, exchanging petals without saying a word until all five petals were used. By the time the sun had started to peak over the horizon, Claudia appeared to be asleep. Terry then remembered to say aloud the words he had promised to deliver to her.
"I love you, Claudia."
A faint smile appeared on her face, letting him know that his words had reached her.