Rock Head actually proved to be an ample tutor. While he was by no means even near the top of the wizards he was accustomed to working with, his comparably meager skill astounded Mynix. Despite his somber and serious nature, the admiration of a young pupil began to work wonders on the hermit. Rock Head taught Mynix many spells, and while they were no where near his most powerful (he was still a suspicious red wizard after all) they added to her growing arsenal and made her more prepared for the fight that was ahead of her. Rock Head actually gave Mynix hope too. She had heard stories of the red wizards and their evil ways, and supreme power, but seeing Rock Head change just during the time she had met him, she felt that she would not give in the the lust for power, she felt she could overcome it because she had friends to keep her grounded.
Grenwyn was the happiest he had been in a long time. While being back in his clan halls made him pine for his lost wife, he had gained the daughter he thought would never be returned to him. He spent much time with Morthwyn and his family, and was please his daughter grew up in such a happy home. He knew even had he stayed, his sorrow would have made Ambre's upbringing a lonely one. Grenwyn checked in on Mynix often as well, and was happy to see his adopted daughter growing and blossoming under the tutelage of the strange red wizard who chose to live among dwarves. "What a strange family I've got," Grenwyn would mutter to himself as he walked down the tunnel to get back to work.
Laith was the only one who was lonely and restless. He knew they were working towards reaching Feryl and allowing for their best chance of success, but he couldn't help feel he was abandoning her to a terrible fate. Under the stone, away from the trees and forests he loved, with his friends busying themselves with new found friends, and long lost children, he grew sad, and began to lose hope. Perhaps it is for the best he thought, perhaps she should be out there finding her own life, with her own kind. "Ye've been looking down lately," Grenwyn said to Laith as he walked into his workroom. "I am worried about Feryl, but I am also lonesome for the trees and sun." Laith said as he smiled weakly. "Bah, ye elves are all alike, a bunch of wee faeries dancing around yer precious trees," Grenwyn laughed, "But if ye love yer precious trees so much, I can show ye a back way out that leads into a small glade hidden in the mountains." Laith's eyes lit up, and his smile seemed genuine as he followed Grenwyn to freedom.
Grenwyn showed Laith to the glade, and said he could not tell him the password, but he would come in the morning to let him back in the tunnels. Laith readily agreed, and both felt sure he would be safe in such a remote location, and without Feryl. After Grenwyn secured the door, Laith sat down on the soft grass. He seemed to be in a wide, shallow valley completely encircled by stone. All around him there were cold stone mountains but the valley itself was filled with life. A small spring flowed through the middle, and old old trees grew throughout. He saw birds, but no animals to speak of, which was not unusual for so remote a location. Laith felt better than he had since venturing below the surface, and as he listened to the babble of the brook, and the whisper of the leaves in the breeze he slipped into reverie.
Laith was vaguely aware that his limbs felt heavy, and his mind began to feel fuzzy, he tried to stir from reverie, but could not. A voice called to him, soft but powerful. The voice seemed to come from the tree in front of him, and as had happened before, a beautiful woman began to step seemingly out of the tree. Her beauty made Laith's breath catch, and he felt a strong longing to be nearer to her. "Come back to pay your debt did you?" the Dryad purred and she strode to him on long strong legs the rich brown color of earth. She smelled of fresh soil and her greenish hair seemed sun dappled. She moved close to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, caught deeply in her charm spell. She melted against him and sighed as she breathed onto his neck and moved her lips to his. She pulled him into and embrace and he went along almost willingly. When passion began to stir strongly within him, he had a vision of Feryl and the Dryad's charm broke and he moved away from her.
"Why do you pine for her so?" pouted the Dryad, my beauty is superior, and we both shall live long lives." Laith looked away, and she giggled knowing she had hit on a point that he indeed had considered. "She has moved on from you," the Dryad said matter of factly, "Come with me to the stream bank and I will show you." Laith really knew better than to trust a Dryad, but she had been very helpful to them before. As Laith stared into the cool waters, the Dryad moved her hands over the surface as if opening a window. Feryl appeared dressed as a soldier of the Black Cloaks. She was in an alley with a dead man, and a very frightened girl. She held another man in the corner, and she was pressed against him in a very vulgar manner. The look in her eyes caused Laith to shudder. He had never seen such pure rage, nor had he seen such contempt. She said something to the man, but he could not hear what it was she said. The man began weeping and he threw down his sword, but Feryl moved forward and killed him. Laith could not believe what he had seen, how could the woman he loved have changed so? He thought to blame the Dryad for trying to hurt him, but when he looked at her he saw tears in her eyes, and shock at the heinous act.
"Enough," was all Laith could choke out and he splashed his hands in the water, breaking the image. "I'm so sorry," the Dryad said, and Laith could see legitimate concern in her face. She reached for him, and he fell into her embrace. Her cried on her shoulder and she held him, she wiped his tears away, and kissed him, and this time he let himself fall fully into her spell. His joining with her was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His mouth tasted of the earth, and he could feel and sense every life force in the glade. He felt at one with the trees, and he could hear their whispers but not understand them. The Dryad giggled as her gazed at her in wonder. She buried him in exuberant kisses, and Laith thought he could feel each beam of moonlight on his skin. As they lay there together, he drifted into sleep just as a human, and the Dryad giggled and slipped back into the tree, her interest in him ended.
Laith woke to a gruff "Ahem," as Grenwyn blocked the sun that shone on him. His mind took a moment to register, and then he realized he had no clothes on. "Ye reek of soil boy, I hope ye haven't been kissing the Dryads again, I wouldn't want to be you if Feryl ever found out, have ye seen her with a sword?" Those words hit Laith like a hammer, and all the memories of the prior evening came rushing to his head. He gagged as he remembered the remorseless killing of the weaponless man. "Come now, she won't be all that mad," Grenywn joked, but when he saw the look on Laith's face, he knew something was wrong. "What do ye know elf?" Grenwyn asked as he threw Laith's pants to him and sat down on a rock.
Feryl awoke the next morning in a cold sweat. She should have felt remorse, but she felt only the rage that had driven her actions, and continued to drive her with singular purpose. "It must be today," she thought to herself, knowing that if she continued the way she was, she would loose herself entirely, if she had not already. She felt a sadness she could not explain, almost as if she were feeling the remorse of someone else, and she set out to end her torment.
“So the rage had taken her then,” Grenwyn said, “we’d best hurry up with the preparations and get to her.” Laith nodded, but did not look convinced. In fact, he was not convinced, and he feared that Feryl had been lost already.
No comments:
Post a Comment