The diminishing sunlight made the thick forest almost as dark as night, and if she didn't find somewhere to rest soon, she would be out in the open in complete blackness. Not only that, but she realized she hadn't eaten in at least a day, and her stomach was rumbling like an untamed beast.
Her misery was compounded further by the persistent feeling of sadness. It clouded her mind somewhat, she noticed, but it seemed that the deeper she ventured into the forest, the more it subsided. She was approaching something, she knew, and that something would offer a reprieve, or at least an explanation.
Further down the road, she began to smell the smoke of a fire, and the delicious scent of meat. She crouched when she realized it, debating on whether to find the camp and ask to join them, or flee for her life. She was in an unknown land, and no one here likely spoke her language. She would be a stranger, and one dressed in the typical garb of a bandit, at that.
But her stomach urged her forward. She could no longer stand the hunger pangs that twisted her insides like a dagger. Her hands were beginning to shake, and even her vision was becoming blurry with fatigue and starvation. If she didn't find food quickly, she would pass out.
She stepped off of the path and began wading through the weeds toward the smell. There was the faint glow of a fire in the distance, and she focused on that. She would sneak up as quietly as possible and observe whoever it was. Then she could judge whether they were friend or foe.
Her mouth began to water as the scent grew stronger. It smelled like rabbit roasting on a spit, and she quickened her pace, hoping her haste wouldn't give her away. She nearly tripped over a large stone, and stopped to make sure the strangers hadn't heard her. She swallowed hard, her heart racing. The stone she had tripped over caught her attention, however, and she noticed that it was carved and smooth, despite its age. There were ruins around, she realized. The strangers were likely holed up in them, resting for the night as she would have done.
She continued forward, stepping lightly when she began to hear voices. From what she could tell, it was two women, maybe more. Their voices were feminine, but with commanding overtones. Possible soldiers, she thought.
Rian.
She stopped, frozen, unsure of whether she had heard the voice or not. Surely the women around the fire hadn't called to her. But as she stepped closer, she realized that there was a presence among the two; something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Rian. Your sisters await.
"Who's there?" she heard from the camp.
Rian froze, confused. She could hear the women draw their blades and spread out to the edge of the clearing. Behind them were the ruins of some old structure, illuminated by their campfire. She could see that one of the women was taller than the other and much more intimidating.
"Show yourself," the voice said again. She then realized that she could understand her.
The larger woman sheathed her blade and drew a bow, nocking an arrow and pointing it into the forest, right in her exact direction.
Rian stood, sheathing her own blade. "I'm here," she said. "I mean you no harm."
"Come into the light," the woman said, backing up toward the fire.
The smaller woman kept her blade out as she backed away. The bow was still pulled back, ready to fire. Rian stepped forward, being careful not to make any sudden moves. She could see the two women fully now. The larger one was dark-haired, well-muscled and armored in chainmail and leather. The smaller woman had reddish hair, with bright green eyes, and was dressed in brown leather garments.
"Who are you?" the large woman asked.
Rian stepped into the light of the fire, her hands held out at her sides. The larger woman cocked her head, and Rian suddenly felt a strange kinship with her. It felt as if she had known the woman her whole life. She then looked at the other woman, feeling the same thing.
"I said who are you?"
"Rian," she replied. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I was just hungry, and I smelled your rabbit."
"What are you doing in this forest?" the smaller woman asked. "There are no towns nearby."
Rian thought better of telling them she had escaped from a prison ship. That likely wouldn't go over well.
"I came from a coastal town," she said. "I don't know where I am, or what land this is. Nor do I know how you can speak my language."
The larger woman looked at the other one strangely, and they both put their weapons away. Rian put her hands down, feeling relieved but still hungry.
"I am Igrid," the larger woman said. "This is Morrigan. The land you are in is called Eirenoch, and your language as you call it is common here. Are you from Thyre?"
"Yes," Rian said. "I have no idea how I came to be here."
Igrid cocked her head skeptically. "Really?"
Rian was about to answer when the smaller woman took a step forward toward her. Rian backed away, frightened, but the woman simply pointed at the blade on her back.
"Look what she's carrying," Morrigan said.
Igrid stepped forward, eyeing Rian's blade. She then turned around toward the center of the ruin, stepping aside so Rian could see what was there. At the center of a stone platform stood a golden bracket that held a katana the likes of which Rian had never seen. Her eyes went wide, and there was a warm feeling inside of her as she beheld it.
"Take it," Igrid said. "I think it was meant for you."
Rian looked at her in question, but the woman simply returned her glance, gesturing for her to take the sword. Rian stepped toward it, feeling that warmth grow stronger and stronger, and the sadness melt away. It felt as if the sword was hers, an old friend, and lover perhaps. Whatever the case, she could hardly contain her desire for it. She reached out, taking the beautiful scabbard in her hands and lifting the sword away.
It was warm and soothing in her hands, like holding a newborn baby. She stared at it lovingly, grasping its handle, pulling it free. The blade was gleaming and alive, glowing blue and pulsating like a living heart. She heard the two woman draw their blades again, and she looked at each of them in turn, seeing that their blades were glowing as well.
"Rian," Igrid said. "Welcome sister. Join us."
The rabbit was delicious. Rian scarfed it down like a starving dog, ignoring the fat and juices that ran down her chin. She knew the others were watching her with amusement, but she didn't care. She was hungry.
"Tell us why you came in this direction," Igrid said. "Why you happened upon us."
Rian shook her head. "I have no idea," she said. "I just felt drawn here. I don't know why. I felt the need to go deeper into the forest, following the stone road. But then I smelled your cooking, and headed in this direction."
"Did you feel anything strange when you first got here," Morrigan asked. "The island, I mean."
"Not until I made it up to the top of the cliff," Rian said. "Before that, I was only worried about escap—um, getting away."
"From whom?" Igrid asked.
Rian sighed. "Ronin," she said. "I was captured in Thyre and was being transported to a prison somewhere I suppose. The ship stopped at a port town, and I ended up getting away, thanks to a group of strangers on a nearby ship."
"Why were you on a prison ship?"
"I… stole something from the Sun King."
"You're a thief?" Morrigan asked. "Just a thief, and the Great Mother called to you."
"The Great Mother?" Rian said, putting down the stripped rabbit bone.
"We are on our way to the Temple of Gaia to answer the Great Mother's call," Igrid explained. "We have both felt it our whole lives, but something has happened recently that made it stronger. A tragedy."
"Sadness," Rian said. "Sorrow. Great sorrow."
"The Sisters of Gaia were slaughtered," Igrid said. "By the Beast, T'kar."
Rian had never heard of T'kar, but she knew of the priestesses of Gaia. They were all over the world as far as she knew, but had no idea that any of them had been slaughtered.
"Who
is this T'kar?" she asked.
"He is the usurper of Daegoth's throne," Morrigan said. "And our enemy. He is the enemy of the people, the Dragon, and of the Great Mother."
"And you plan on stopping him?"
"We will do what we can," Igrid said. "But our focus is to answer Gaia's call and reform the Sisterhood."
"What about this blade?" Rian asked.
"We too have blades that are gifts from Gaia," Morrigan said. "I found your blade earlier, but was not allowed to take it. I thought perhaps it was meant for someone else, and that was true."
Rian was stunned. What did it mean? Was she to be a priestess? Did she even want to be a priestess? What were the odds of her being brought to this island, only to have been meant to come here? Was Gaia waiting for her?
"This is all very strange," she said. "I have never even been on this island before."
"The sword was meant for you," Morrigan said. "It has to be."
"Well," Rian said, looking around her. "What is this place?"
"This was a fountain," Igrid said. "Built by the Alvar thousands of years ago. These ruins are all over the place, remnants of a time when the Alvar honored Gaia."
"Alvar?"
"Alvar, Sidhe, whatever you call them in Thyre."
Rian shook her head. "I'm not familiar with them. But what does that have to do with us… with me?"
"Gaia needs her daughters back," Morrigan said. "We two were chosen long ago. You seem to have been chosen when you landed here."
Rian did feel a sense of comfort now, as opposed to the sadness she had felt before. Her presence seemed to alleviate whatever that sorrow was, especially when she felt compelled to accept the prospect of joining the two women. The more she thought about it, the better she felt.
"If I come with you, what happens?"
Igrid shrugged. "We don't know," she said. "We'll find out when we get there. All I know is that we have been given divine weapons, so it's clear that we will have to fight."
Rian smiled. "I'm more of a rogue," she said. "But I can fight if I have to."
"Don't worry," Morrigan said. "If Gaia chose you, then she has need of at least one of your talents."
"I have many," Rian said, smiling. "And I have nowhere else to go at the moment. Besides, it would be nice to have a sense of purpose."
"Then you will join us?" Igrid asked.
Rian nodded. "I will," she said. "To the temple we go."
Chapter Eleven
Huddled in a cave with a small fire going for warmth, Erenoth stared out toward the tower that stood in the distance. He had hidden for a whole day, angered and weary of it all, not wanting to even step foot outside, lest the voice come again.
He had no desire to meet the Dragon, or anyone that had anything to do with him—or it—as it were. Just the sight of the tower infuriated him. It mocked him. Yet it was strangely beautiful and inviting. Much more inviting than the harsh chill.
There had only been a small amount of wood in the area, and he was running low. There would not be enough to last until morning, and then he would have to choose. Either go to the tower, or wander around in the valley until he died. Seeing as there seemed to be no way out of the valley, those were his only two choices.
He was trapped.
"Damn you," he whispered, glaring at the cursed black structure.
He pulled the gem out of his pocket that the witch had given him. He held it in his palm, resisting the urge to call it to life so he could communicate with her. Perhaps she could help, bring him out of this valley maybe. But even the thought of explaining how he had ended up here angered him. There would be too many questions.
Enraged, he hurled the gem against the stone wall of the cave. It shattered in a bright burst of magic and crystal, disintegrating to nothing. He then put his head in his hands, cowering within that tiny little cocoon, desperately hiding from the world. But as his thoughts began to wander, there was a crunching sound outside down the slope.
He leaned forward, peering out of the cave and toward the rocks below. A shadow was moving slowly upward, crunching the stones underfoot as it came. Erenoth drew his dagger, gripping it tightly as his heart began to race. This was the first sign of life he had seen since he arrived, and there was no telling who or what it was. It could be the Dragon, it could be the witch, or it could be anyone or anything.
Such thoughts made him apprehensive. He felt the urge to stamp out the fire and hide in the back of the cave. But he knew it would do no good. Whoever it was had already seen the glow or smelled the smoke and was on their way up. There was nothing he could do. With only a dagger, he was defenseless and vulnerable.
Still, he moved to the far end of the fire, sitting down on the cave floor with the dagger gripped tightly in his hand. The crunching became louder, and he could hear the huffs of breath as whoever it was neared the cave opening. Then, there was silence, as if the stranger had stopped.
"Hello in there," a voice said.
It was a man's voice. It was not particularly rough or deep, but rather smooth and somewhat high-pitched. Erenoth's heart raced anyway.
"Hello?" the voice said again. "I don't want to alarm you. I mean you no harm. I just want to speak to you."
"Who are you?" Erenoth shouted, cringing as he realized he shouldn't have spoken.
"Ah," the voice said happily.
The crunching began again, and the top of a withered staff poked up above the mouth of the cave, followed by a head of shaggy hair. The fire illuminated the stranger's face somewhat, and Erenoth could see that it was a young man, possibly in his twenties, with strangely tangled hair and a covering of stubble befitting of a wanderer.
"Hello there," the man said. "My name is Jodocus. May I come in?"
Erenoth shrugged. "I can't stop you," he said. "I have no weapons."
"Well, that's no good," the man said, stepping inside.
He looked around the cave for a moment, pulling his cloak more tightly around him. He chuckled and pointed his staff at the fire. It flared into life, as if he had tossed a bundle of sticks on top, and Erenoth felt its comforting warmth. He began to relax somewhat as the man sat down opposite of him.
"You're some kind of wizard," Erenoth said.
Jodocus laughed. "No," he said humorously. "I'm a Druid. The Druid of these lands."
Erenoth wasn't sure what a Druid was. He remembered T'kar mentioning something about a Druid, but nothing specific. Or perhaps he had. For some reason, Erenoth couldn't remember. Jodocus. The name sounded vaguely familiar.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"The question is, what do you want?"
Erenoth sighed. How annoying. "I don't understand."
Jodocus smiled, laying his staff on the rock beside him. He held out his hands, warming them over the magically enhanced fire.
"You're here for a reason," Jodocus said. "On this island, I mean."
"Yes."
"You came here to kill someone," Jodocus said. "You're an assassin."
Erenoth cocked his head. "What do you know of it?"
"Everything," Jodocus said, staring into the fire. "Everything."
"So?"
"You came to kill one person, at your master's behest, but then you were sent to kill someone else. And that is how you ended up here. The funny thing is, your contractor had considered sending you after me, which of course, would have spelled your doom."
The Druid smiled after that, bringing Erenoth's lip to a sneer. "Is that so?" he said.
"It is so," Jodocus said, matter-of-factly. "You cannot kill me."
Somehow, Erenoth doubted that, but he didn't press the matter. "So what are you doing here?" he asked.
"You have questions," Jodocus said. "I may have answers."
"You may?"
"Of course I may," the Druid replied. "I cannot truthfully say I do have answers, although if I had only a few answers that would mean that I do have answers… But, what I mean is, I do not know everything, but some things perhaps
."
"You just said that you know everything."
"I know everything about your situation," Jodocus corrected. "Not everything about… well, everything."
Erenoth shook his head. The conversation was going nowhere, and he still knew nothing about why this strange man was here in the first place.
"What answers do you have?"
Jodocus cocked an eyebrow, still looking at the fire. "That depends on the question."
"You're very annoying."
"Yes," Jodocus said. "I get that a lot."
Erenoth sighed, thinking of what he could ask that wouldn't sound insane. He could only think of one question.
"Why am I here?"
"Ah," Jodocus said, his eyes going wide and focusing on Erenoth. "That is the question I was hoping you would ask."
Jodocus reached out over the fire, his fingers spread out toward Erenoth, who began to feel a strange sensation in his gut. It was a tingling, not entirely unpleasant, but frightening nonetheless.
"What are you doing?"
"Relax," Jodocus said. "This won't take long."
Erenoth's vision suddenly became dark, and he felt himself falling or sinking downward. He felt as if he were floating in water then, and sailing along on his back in the midst of rough waters. Then, a vision appeared before him, and he was immersed in a scene of which he had almost perfect recollection.
He stood in his father's bedroom, looking down at the hated man's body. A younger version of himself stood nearby, holding a bloody dagger and frozen, with a look of horror mixed with relief on his face. His heart raced as he remembered that very moment. He had killed his own father in his sleep, having lived a life of terror and abuse that would turn even the most saintly child into a cold-blooded killer.
"Father," he whispered.
His younger self dropped the dagger and ran out of the room. Erenoth took one last look at his father and followed. His younger self began ransacking the cabin, gathering every coin, weapon, and scrap of dried meat he could find. Erenoth felt sadness as he watched, remembering that absolute fear he had felt knowing that he could go to Galamatus Purgatory for murder if he was caught.
He had to get away.
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