Eighty-one nights after meeting the General
The forest was endless. I wandered past the same trees, the same streams, the same dense shrubbery, for hours on end.
The forest was not silent. The wind was quiet, but the magic in the air was almost tangible.
I heard it calling out to me. Recharging my essence until I was buzzing with it.
The energy of greenery was housed within me.
Regrowing my magical core after it suffered total depletion.
It was what kept me going. The roots at my feet rooting themselves within me. I walked through the night without rest. I never changed direction. If I kept going forward in a straight line, I would keep going north.
There was a moment where my resolve faltered. When my eyes were fighting to stay open, as morning dew coated thick moss with droplets. The sun was rising. The canopy was too dense to know where exactly it was on the horizon.
An oak tree stood tall, right where I needed to pass.
My eyes fell to my trousers. Frayed and cut up by the branches I was wading through.
There was liquid running down my arm. It was blood trickling down from the scratches the forest gifted me.
I became aware of the blisters on my feet.
And I took a moment to sit against that oak tree.
I was hit with the truth of it. I was lost.
The forest had to end somewhere. But how far would I need to travel? How long before a wild animal stumbled upon me? Yes, the forest was mine, but it was not mine alone. My head was heavy. I closed my eyes for a moment. And very quickly, I was out.
When I came to, I first thought I had died. In front of me was a creature. A light. Gold and yellow and bright. It woke me up from my slumber only to enchant me. A ball of light, small but vivid.
A pixie. She warmed me up from the tip of my toes all the way up to my chest. Filled me with an emptiness that was pleasantly numbing. There was no dread, no fear of the journey that was ahead. And she moved away from me slowly.
I knew the fairytales. Of pixies leading travellers out of the forest. Of offering them hope.
Guiding them through the story’s darkest moments.
And I got up as she moved away. This light was my lifeline.
I clung on to her desperately enough to make my way through the forest in a hurry.
I stumbled forward at an unsustainable pace, for a while, just until I caught up to her.
I found myself next to her by a stream, gently rolling down a hill. I kept up with her. Hoping that the stories were true. That this creature would be my salvation.
I followed the light until I saw nothing but her. The forest dissipated in her presence. What was left was a world of my own. I still heard the stream, steadily flowing at my feet. I could smell the forest, feel the afternoon sun. But I wasn’t there. Not really.
I thought then that the goddess of the forest must have sent me the pixie as a gift. A safety blanket made of gold, given freely from one healer to another. I saw her then, in my mind’s eye. She looked like my mother. There was no time. No pain in my feet. Nothing but a vision.
I was with my mother then. The hearth in our hut, always burning. Gathering supplies along the coastline. Her soft smile when she spoke of the Evergreen Isles. I saw her visit her home once again. A place I had never been to.
I saw my alpha in an infirmary cot. Getting up to take his first steps after recovery. Inge was by his side, telling him he had to hold on to hope. Telling him that I was a survivor. I wanted to reach out to him and tell him that I was coming home. That I would be there soon.
I saw Axel by my side, holding me close.
His palm as large as my entire hand, grabbing me.
A mating bite on his neck. We felt connected in a way that we weren’t yet.
Instinctively, I grabbed my stomach. I saw a baby boy in my alpha’s arms. I felt him fighting to survive inside of me.
Was he with me then, already? Was it a vision of the future, or was it reality? Or was it all just a dream?
I was floating. Oblivious to the rules of gravity. Time was nothing in this trancelike state. Weeks and months were passing me by. I closed my eyes, but I still saw them vividly. I was nowhere, yet everywhere at once.
I woke up standing upright. There was a sharp pain in my extremities.
No more light in front of me. I looked around.
Was I still dreaming? Behind me, the forest was beckoning me once again.
But I was no longer trapped there. I looked ahead.
Red dwarf shrubs littered the landscape as far as the eye could see.
Mountains in the distance. At my feet, I found the most peculiar sight.
Abandoned weapons. Molten and rotting. Arrows on the ground.
They told me I was no longer dreaming. That I was at the southern front. Where the empire had sent their weakest soldiers as a human sacrifice. A distraction from the true battle that would rage further up north. I was in the Oaklands.
The mountain range ahead of me, suddenly familiar. I saw it from the castle, only from the other side.
On horseback, I was a day’s travel away. It took soldiers three days to reach the capital on foot. Three days from home. I must have been quite the sight. But there was no giving up. I had to keep walking.
The setting sun over the bear berry plants painted the whole world red.
I stumbled on, as day turned to night. It was painful, it was tough, but I was nowhere near as weak as I had on that boat.
The icy wind on my skin was not as rough as the ropes digging in my wrists.
I lived through worse. When I wanted to give up, I clutched my stomach.
Was he in there? Would he survive if he was?
There was something in the distance. A burst of light. Another pixie? One that had ventured out of the forest?
I walked on, hoping to reach the source of it.
The closer I got, the more unsure I was of how to proceed.
Figures came into view. The light took the shape of fire.
If I came across humans, that would be a disaster.
If they were Werewolves, I might live to see another day.
But without a source of warmth for the night, I would not make it till morning. We would not make it till morning.
I got closer. I did not mean to sneak up on them. I couldn’t really. The tundra was open. It was not my fault they were oblivious to their surroundings.
I was so very close when I felt magic emanating from them.
I let out a breath I did not know I was holding.
A cart. Tents. Horses. Furs. Three werewolves.
Their backs were facing me. From a few steps away, I saw that one was woman with long black hair and pale skin.
Two men were sitting next to her. Dark skin and curly hair.
One wrinkled and skinny, one young and tall.
The woman shoved the young man playfully.
Laughing. The light of the fire illuminating their faces when they looked turned to the side.
I took another step. I was getting too close. No weapons in hand did not mean they were unarmed. Besides, they were werewolves. They could rip me apart without iron involved.
“Excuse me,” I said. I expected to sound off, exhausted, but my voice was melodic and soft. The forest was truly like magic for me.
At the sound of my voice, the young man stood up promptly. Turning towards me. Eyes wide. He stepped in front of his companion. This man was ready for a fight.
I was not. Nor was I any sort of threat. But how to prove it? I took a step back. I held up both hands, proving that I was unarmed. My tethered clothes and wounded flesh must have been a sight to behold.
“I mean you no harm,” I said. I bit my lip.
The werewolf didn’t move an inch. An alpha, I was certain.
“Are you a soldier?” the woman asked. I shook my head. They must have thought I was human. A deserter, or a survivor at least.
I responded, “I am not a soldier. But I was there during the battle. I was a healer during the battle of Kanna.”
With so many eyes on me, I couldn’t help but step back even more.
“Why would we help someone from the empire?” the woman asked. My accent was clearly southern. My stature not werewolf-like.
“Because I am on your side,” I said. The woman scoffed.
“Come closer,” the old man said. The other two frowned at him. I complied. Slowly but surely, I stepped forward. Once, twice. The old man’s eyes narrowed. I stepped into the light.
“You’re not human, are you?” The old man asked. Without my glamour on, there was no hiding it. My hair matched the fire, and the vibrant red of the tundra itself.
“No,” I said. “I’m a druid.” I hoped they believed me. That they knew druids were harmless.
“Why are you here?”
“I need to get back to the castle,” I said. “I have a message for General Axel.”
The old man laughed.
“What makes you think the General wants to hear what you have to say?” he asked.
“Because he wants to win this war,” I answered. I raised an eyebrow. The three looked between them. The woman nodded once. The alpha sighed.
“Come on then,” the old man said. I stood still for a moment. Would they truly help me? “Come sit with us while the fire is hot.”
I walked to the other side of the campfire.
Where the wind brought soot into my lungs.
I sat on my knees, right next to it. Warming my hands.
Almost touching it. The scent reminded me of him.
Brought me home. I looked up to see the Werewolves still eying me up.
But I was taken by the fire. Frost slowly exiting my limbs.
I let out a sigh of relief that we would live to see another day.