A New Path

The gentle fragrance of flowers and moss, washed clean with morning dew still clinging to the patches of shade, permeated the air filling Ailac’s nose. Nuts and fruits mixed underscored the soft scent of the grass and trees, adding an earthy headiness to the gentle breeze. Leaves rustled under the breeze, crinkling faintly against one another. A twig snapped under of hoof nearby, followed by the gentle lapping of water, the scent fur drifting up just to the side, the creature unheeding of the druid as it bent to drink. Ailac opened his right eye.

Soft golden trailers of light filtered down through the gap in the rustling canopy of leaves high overhead rimming a clear shallow pond nearly one hundred spans across. Butterflies and small insects lilted across shimmering surface of the water, dancing among the flowering lilies. In the center of the pond rose a tall spire of stones, towering over the water with tall trees climbing farther still from the spire. No rot infested this place, no wrongness of the Nightmare. The land here teemed with the silent life of the Emerald Dream, strong and free of taint. Ailac closed his eye once more letting the tranquility of this place wash over him, scratching the head of the young elk as it nuzzled his leg.

The elks head lifted up beneath his hand, peering out over the lake before drawing back, the animal kneeling down upon the shore. All around the glade life arrested its movements reverently, small woodland critters pausing to rest upon the earth, while birds and insect quieted their dance. The very breeze itself stilled to rest, silence fell upon the forest like a blanket. Ailac opened his eye to view the familiar presence.

In slow graceful steps belying its massive size the Great Bear Spirit descended from the spire. Its footfalls made no sound, bent no blade of grass nor shook free stone. Ailac watched its causal descent breathlessly, even after over a thousand years as a Druid of the Claw, the majesty of the Spirit never diminished. Massive paws slipped into water that would have rose above Ailac’s chest without a stir, the water rising almost to its underbelly undisturbed by the intrusion. Slowly it came forward; towering above the small druid standing upon the banks as it drew close, pausing to look thoughtfully into his eye.

Ailac returned the gaze unwavering, in his mind he knew what must come, the path his feet would tread. Closing his eyes he bent low in a bow of reverence. No words existed to express his gratitude. Strength, courage, tenacity… the Great Bear had lent him so much, taught him to walk when he could but crawl and fumble his way as a druid. He would be eternally grateful for that guidance.

The Great Bear merely looked on, considering the bent druid placidly. Ailac felt the gaze upon him, the Great Bear drinking in his essence. A feeling stirred deep in his chest, acceptance tinged with a hint of regret. Today the Spirit watched its cub leave the den for the last time. A Druid of the Claw no longer.

Life fluttered into existence within the glade, the soft breeze stirring the creatures back to motion once more. For many long moments Ailac merely let it wash over him, remaining bowed upon the shoreline in reverence even as the Great Spirit plodde1d along into the woods. Finally Ailac rose back up to his feet, standing straight to stare out at the shimmering pond once more, planting his feet firmly in the earth. Xaneria still lay trapped within the Nightmare, Cenias yet to be found.

The druid turned from the shore and stepped onto the new path before him.