shivered from a cold sweat, his stomach remained in knots. Laying there in the blackness he could not distinguish the pain of her death from the pain of the transition. In the end, he realized it didn’t really matter, physical or mental the pain was there all the same.
Mom...
He shut his eyes tight. Carrick was indeed far from home, wherever his uncle had taken him, laying in the dark of the night. The best he could do would be to surrender to sleep, praying that he would find himself yet again in a pleasant memory. Free of pain, free of worry.
“You should not have brought him here!” A raspy voice chastised, startling him. Forcing his eyes to open Carrick scanned the space for the source, finding no one in the immediate room. There was a flicker of candlelight flowing in from the room beyond the wooden door.
“I could not leave him to die by the hand of Lorcan’s minions.” That was Erik's strained voice, the tone Carrick found himself using when trying to keep his temper in check.
“The boy is not one of us, he is tainted by the human world. A half breed.” Someone exhaled sharply, cursing.
“He is part of us, to leave him would leave us without a piece of the whole. He will be a druid. He will follow the path. Brannon-”
“Brannon is not here. Do I need to remind you I sit in the seat of the Awenydd?”
“A temporary burden placed upon your shoulders.” Erik stressed the word temporary, rolling it over his tongue like he was describing a fine wine. "One I allowed you to bear."
"You insolent-"
"I am the second son of Osin, do not forget that."
“Very well. I put this on your head Erik, if he falls...so shall you be cast, regardless of your lineage.”
“He will not fall. By the blood in my veins, he will not fall.”
A dry reedy chuckle echoed through the cracked doorway. “Time will tell I suppose. He wouldn’t be the first of the Elder line to disappoint.” With that a door beyond his own opened and shut. Carrick wished to leap to his feet, to go demand of his uncle what dinosaur had the nerve to refer to him in such a way. Only a wish, the weakness in his form left him bedridden, forced to return to sleeps deathlike embrace.
It was a good many hours later before Carrick began to feel a bit surer of his stomach. Shortly after the pains had subsided he began to get restless. Sitting up with a groan, he cracked his back and took inventory of the room his uncle had given him in the warm daylight.
It truly was beautiful in its simplicity. The floor was wood planked, the walls likewise. Set into the deep toned natural grain appeared to be a large circular window, framed with deep bronze toned shutters that had been engraved in a circular pattern of vines. Across from the bed where he lay was a desk and chair carved from driftwood.
Lifting the blanket he found he had not been imagining things the previous night. He was, in fact, naked as a newborn. Still the urge to explore overruled any sense of propriety. Wrapping the blanket around his waist, Carrick pivoted his legs off the side of the bed. Testing his legs, he found his balance off. His muscles felt very weak, like he had just finished the mile test in gym class. Slowly, Carrick stumbled across the flooring toward the window and lifted the latch, opening wide the shutters.
The view beyond was breathtaking.
It was a city built into the forest rather than over it. Buildings stretched between trees, within trees, bridges and paths connecting them. Walls made of leaves and carved stone, flowers planted in circular patterns decorating the window bays of the buildings, vines stretching out in all directions. There were some human elements, sculptures placed around the cityscape, carved torches lining gray stone pathways on the forest floor below. Wooden benches placed along the edge of the river that flowed to the east of his uncle’s place.
“It’s beautiful isn’t
Mom...
He shut his eyes tight. Carrick was indeed far from home, wherever his uncle had taken him, laying in the dark of the night. The best he could do would be to surrender to sleep, praying that he would find himself yet again in a pleasant memory. Free of pain, free of worry.
“You should not have brought him here!” A raspy voice chastised, startling him. Forcing his eyes to open Carrick scanned the space for the source, finding no one in the immediate room. There was a flicker of candlelight flowing in from the room beyond the wooden door.
“I could not leave him to die by the hand of Lorcan’s minions.” That was Erik's strained voice, the tone Carrick found himself using when trying to keep his temper in check.
“The boy is not one of us, he is tainted by the human world. A half breed.” Someone exhaled sharply, cursing.
“He is part of us, to leave him would leave us without a piece of the whole. He will be a druid. He will follow the path. Brannon-”
“Brannon is not here. Do I need to remind you I sit in the seat of the Awenydd?”
“A temporary burden placed upon your shoulders.” Erik stressed the word temporary, rolling it over his tongue like he was describing a fine wine. "One I allowed you to bear."
"You insolent-"
"I am the second son of Osin, do not forget that."
“Very well. I put this on your head Erik, if he falls...so shall you be cast, regardless of your lineage.”
“He will not fall. By the blood in my veins, he will not fall.”
A dry reedy chuckle echoed through the cracked doorway. “Time will tell I suppose. He wouldn’t be the first of the Elder line to disappoint.” With that a door beyond his own opened and shut. Carrick wished to leap to his feet, to go demand of his uncle what dinosaur had the nerve to refer to him in such a way. Only a wish, the weakness in his form left him bedridden, forced to return to sleeps deathlike embrace.
It was a good many hours later before Carrick began to feel a bit surer of his stomach. Shortly after the pains had subsided he began to get restless. Sitting up with a groan, he cracked his back and took inventory of the room his uncle had given him in the warm daylight.
It truly was beautiful in its simplicity. The floor was wood planked, the walls likewise. Set into the deep toned natural grain appeared to be a large circular window, framed with deep bronze toned shutters that had been engraved in a circular pattern of vines. Across from the bed where he lay was a desk and chair carved from driftwood.
Lifting the blanket he found he had not been imagining things the previous night. He was, in fact, naked as a newborn. Still the urge to explore overruled any sense of propriety. Wrapping the blanket around his waist, Carrick pivoted his legs off the side of the bed. Testing his legs, he found his balance off. His muscles felt very weak, like he had just finished the mile test in gym class. Slowly, Carrick stumbled across the flooring toward the window and lifted the latch, opening wide the shutters.
The view beyond was breathtaking.
It was a city built into the forest rather than over it. Buildings stretched between trees, within trees, bridges and paths connecting them. Walls made of leaves and carved stone, flowers planted in circular patterns decorating the window bays of the buildings, vines stretching out in all directions. There were some human elements, sculptures placed around the cityscape, carved torches lining gray stone pathways on the forest floor below. Wooden benches placed along the edge of the river that flowed to the east of his uncle’s place.
“It’s beautiful isn’t
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