The Fey Druid

Caelynn Eathelan was born more fey-touched than other wood elves. Since she was a little girl, she could see little creatures climbing through the boughs of the old oak tree which formed the central pillar of her family home. She danced to music that only she could hear and often got lost in the forest around her village as she chased after tiny flickers of light floating through the trees. Now that she was older, but not at all old, Caelynn still wandered into the forest around her village. But, she no longer became lost in the trees. Most of the time. It was during one of these wanderings that she discovered the thing that would change the course of her life.

She traveled barefoot between the tall elm trees that dominated this portion of the forest. Their long branches reached out and up until they tangled together and created a perpetual twilight in the understory beneath them. The soft wet moss that covered the rich soil cushioned each step of her small feet as she walked.

She had heard the giggling of something that wasn’t quite elf or animal deep in the forest. She followed the sound, hoping to discover what it was. She stalked quietly, ducking behind trees, her bright green eyes peering around the broad trunks, hoping to catch a glimpse. But as was often the case, the mystery always seemed to be just behind a few trees away.

Sighing away her frustration, Caelynn drank from her waterskin, tasting the tannins tinging the water that it held. She leaned against the trunk of a particularly old elm tree and felt its rough bark against her skin through the dark green linen dress she wore. Hiking it up around her waist, she squatted down to relieve herself.

Just as she was feeling the release, she heard the soft barking of a squirrel who was quite annoyed at something. Caelynn brushed her long blond hair away from her face as she looked up and around to find the squirrel.

“Don’t fret little squirrel, I’m not here for your nuts. I will be moving along soon,” she said.

But once she saw the squirrel, it was staring down at her. It was facing away from her, twitching its tail and barking at something on the ground several feet from her. Her gaze followed the squirrel’s to see a body lying face down on the ground.

He was lying face down in the mossy undergrowth. If it were not for the arrow sticking out of his back, she might have thought that he was taking a nap. It was the arrow that drove her forward. He needed help and only she was there to help him.

She knelt down beside him and turned him over to his side, careful of not pushing the arrow even farther into his back. “Are you awake? What happened?”, she asked the man, but he did not respond.

She looked over his face for any response but his eyes were closed and he was very pale. She wiped away the dirt and moss that clung to his sweaty face. She did not recognize him. Her village was very small and she knew everyone who lived there and everyone who lived there knew her. This could only mean that he was from one of the nearby villages, the Red Oaks, she guessed by the red feathers in his brown hair.

She leaned her face down to his, so close that she could kiss him. But instead of her lips touching his, she used the sensitive flesh of her lips to feel for his breath. Sighing with relief at the soft touch of his weak breath, she gently laid him back down onto his belly. Turning his face to one side, she examined the arrow in his back.

It was obviously not elfin. It was a crude, rough shaft with black feathers from a vulture. Shyrans! Caelynn glanced around, her bright green eyes scanning through the trees for any kind of movement. Shyrans, large humanoid creatures with bodies of men but heads of wolves, competed with wood elves for food. To the Shyrans, sometimes the wood elves were the food.

Were they still here? Were they looking for him? Could an arrow fly through the maze of tree trunks and find her thin throat? She pushed the thoughts from her mind, but he quickened breathing showed that the fear wasn’t leaving so easily.

She whispered to the man, “I don’t know who you are, but you can’t stay here. I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt.”

She held the arrow in place and then snapped the shaft off where it met his cloak. The muscles in his back spasmed from the pain. Though she hated inflicting pain on anyone, she took it as a good sign. At least he was alive enough to respond.

She pulled the hood of her dark green cloak over her long blond hair, hoping that it would help her stay hidden in case the shyrans did return to look for her wounded companion. Then she crawled under his limp body and with great effort lifted him up as she got on her hands and knees. He groaned softly as his body shifted around on her back.

Huffing out a deep breath, Caelynn rose up to her feet, lifting the limp body on her shoulders. She stood for a moment as her knees trembled. Once she felt the strength of her legs return, she took a tentative, heavy step forward. Then another and another.

“Oh you’re heavy,” Caelynn whispered.

She trudged through the forest, walking as quietly as she could. She felt the sticky wet fabric of his cloak brush against her face. Realizing it was blood, his blood, she walked faster. She wanted to stop and rest or at least look to make sure she wasn’t being followed, but there was no time. Besides, the quaking in her legs made her afraid that she wouldn’t be able to pick him up again.

“Sometimes the only way past something is to go through it. At least that’s what my father says,” Caelynn muttered to herself. She often talked to herself because there was no one else around to listen to her. At least, no one she could see.