The Dryad - Chapter 105

It felt like the fire spirit’s sulky mood would keep her from going on a rampage around my forest again so I would let her be for now. She needed some time to cool off is that really the right thing to say about a fire spirit?… simmer down?.. Well whatever the case may be, she needed to chill before I tried to talk to her again.

I made my way quickly through the woods to the pond. I needed to see how Mist was doing before I spent any more time coping with that fire spirit. I remembered the message from Ivy during the fight letting me know that everything was alright, but I still wanted to see for myself.

Walking into the clearing I saw Ivy sitting at the water’s edge singing a tranquil song about the lilies in the pond with Rine resting on her shoulder. It was a sweet little song and it gave the impression that Ivy was singing a lullaby to Mist. Really that might have been what this was, but I was not sure how much Mist would appreciate that. She was not a young baby that would need to be lulled to sleep. She did not need to sleep at all, normally.

Sitting down next to Ivy, I saw that she had the bowl of water in her hands and was holding it under the surface of the pond. The spiritual energy of the pond was slowly flowing into Mist’s depleted pathways, slowly stabilizing her condition. Relief flooded through me as I saw that Mist was recovering on her own. With my greatest worry appeased, the weight of the day pressed upon me. I sat there listening to Ivy’s song as I watched over Mist. Closing my eyes I leaned on Ivy trying to release the strain I was feeling.

The song was beautiful and shed some color on my charred soul. I wanted to add to it and clear out the ash. I started to sing a harmony on top of Ivy’s melody. While in the capital of Yana we heard groups of bards get together and start singing bewitching strains. Sadly it seemed that impromptu harmonizing was something they worked for and, even with all my centuries, it was not something I could pick up without more practice. I quickly stopped my discordant counterpoint and simply listened to Ivy sing.

As I listened I was circulating the power in the woods to allow more free energy for Mist and the pond to use. The night passed in this manner. Ivy and I never exchanaged any words, leaning on each other. I continued to listen to her songs with the quiet accompaniment of Rines snore’s, letting them wash away the stains inside me. Some of the songs I think she might have heard from hunters and lumberers that she had observed in her forest, but others had a much more natural feeling to them that led me to believe that they were songs of her own invention. Her calming voice caused my mind to slip closer to unconsciousness.

Well past the middle of the night, just before dawn, Ivy started to loudly sing a much more bouncy song, jarring my mind back to awareness.

Two little ducks that I once knew

Waddled to the pond

A quibbering and gibbering

At the crack of dawn.

Said one, “My dear! It’s time, I hear,

For us to make our nest!”

Said two, “Indeed! Your words I’ll heed.

You surely know what’s best!”

Said one, “This place we cannot waste!

Our nestlings must live here!”

Said two, “Not so, oh feathered doe,

The opossum lives here!”

Said one, “A better home than this

We could not hope to find!”

Said two, “Tis true, or would be, too,

‘Twere it not sumac-twined.”

Said one, “This place, I’m sure, must be

Much better than before!”

Said two, “I fear, my dappled dear,

We can’t nest on a boar.”

This song went on all dusk and dawn

While one and two they sought

A perfect seat for tiny feet

To waddle as they ought.

Till finally, next morning time,

At dawn two said to one,

“I think I’ve found the perfect ground
for visiting.

For you to nestle on.”

The most ideal location!

The privacy! The view!

Without due hesitation,

One fluttered and she flew.

The nesting place, you see, my friends,

Had somewhat of a lack.

The next three weeks, two’s thoughts were bleak

With eggs upon his back!

“A little boisterous for this early in the morning?” I asked as the last strains of her song faded. The sky brightened as the sun came up just at the end of this ridiculous verse. I looked at Ivy blinking in the shifting light.

“The birds are singing,” she said as if explaining why she needed to add to the cacophony.

“Since when do the trees sing with the birds?” I asked to myself and then said. “What on earth were you singing?”

“A song,” Ivy smiled.

I blinked, nonplussed, then turned to the water. I noticed an increase in the stirrings from Mist. It seemed that Ivy felt it, too, as she was watching the pond intently and quietly now. It was much like what I had been seeing from my companions on our journey when they were still debating whether they were awake or not. About ten minutes later I could feel Mist’s awareness gather back to her and then spread out in a controlled fashion.

A wave of relief at seeing Mist wake up rushed over me. It added to the effects of Ivy’s singing in cleansing the filth I felt inside me. “How are you feeling Mist?” I said breaking the silence.

“I am so sorry,” Mist cried, sending ripples across her pond. “I should have listened to you when you told me to stop. I just really wanted to help. This was the first time that I have been able to do anything for you.”

“Mist” How could she think that she needed to prove herself to me? Does she think that friendship is a balance book of gains and losses? Was I such a bad friend? “Mist, what could you mean that you have not done anything for me? You have been my constant companion since your birth. That is more than I could have ever asked for. It was so lonely here without you when Faun was wandering the woods,” I said while sending my hand into the water. I coated it with energy to caress her spirit. “Please don’t do anything like that again. I nearly lost you and it hurt so much. If Ivy was not there to help, my efforts would not have been enough.” Tears slipped from my eyes again.

Ivy might not have been able to tell, but it was clear to me that Mist was looking at me incredulously. She clearly did not believe that I needed Ivy’s help to accomplish anything. Or maybe it was the tears. I continued, “It is actually true. Everything I was trying was not helping. I do not have enough practice manipulating spiritual pathways. Ivy showed me another way to help.”

Ivy did not seem to care that she was underestimated by Mist. “I learned so much by watching you,” she exclaimed in her usual excited manner. “Maybe we can work on learning how to do that together.”

“I doubt that will work.” I said, staring at my hand that was still coated in energy.

“Why not? We don’t live that far apart,” Ivy protested.

“If you are ever able to wield this power it will not be for many thousands of years,” I said. “I only know of five spirits with this power. Each of us are the first of our kind. Myself, Mother Earth, the fire spirit in the great mountains to the south, the naiad of the great river.” Seeing Ivy’s confused look I added, “I mean Mother Sea, and her companion animal spirit.” I then started to cry softly. “Faun being the eldest animal spirit on land may have been able to learn this skill, but I do not think she even knew about it.” If she did then I doubt Maximus could have caught her. She would have been able to stop any magic he tried to use from forming. This is all my fault. Why was I so against using this ability of mine?

Ivy and Mist just sat there looking at me. It almost seemed like a contest between them on who could hold off longer on maintaining this awkward silence I have caused with my newest bout of tears.

Ivy seemed to be the first one to crack, might be the lack of social experience, “What happened to the fire spirit? I can feel that she ran out of the fire break. Did you come to an agreement?”

“I don’t think I will be able to come to an agreement with her. I think that she completely hates me. But she is no longer raging across my woods and is just smoldering, so I am letting her be for a while,” I said with another sigh. “I needed to check on Mist after all.”

No one seemed to know what to say after that. So once again we just sat there in silence for several hours. Thinking back over this time I spent traveling with mortals they would have really thought that this silence was so long and suffocating. Mist might have even felt that way too. I suspected she was even younger that Istan, though I have never asked his age. But she was still exhausted and was resting and absorbing what strength she could. Rine did not seem to mind as he still had not woken up. His flying must have tired him out. To me a few hours of silence was relieving. It helped me to calm my raging heart.