Isildilia.(Book 1 of the White Lily trilogy)

Chapter 34- what did they do?

(Picture- Old sketch of the scene)  

    Dakelo emerged.

    He was caught out when the raging fires reached where he was searching. Luckily he found an unattended burrow, large enough to accommodate him, and climbed inside. It was so deep that he managed to avoid the smoke and flames sweeping above.

      Now he stood up and scanned around. The forest that was thick, green and full of life was now black and dead. The skeletal trees still smouldered, producing thick white clouds of smoke. Great giants were gone within minutes, no trace but a smouldering black stain. Every crunch was amplified with each step he took. He couldn’t see how anything could have survived such a devastating catastrophe. He tried to follow in the direction of the horn he heard before. He knew that didn’t belong to the search parties, but now, silence.

   Don't think like that, he told himself, she will be here; just think, where would she go? He leapt up onto a ridge to get a better view. To the west, the remnants of the fire still burned, but they were slowing being starved.

   Something emerged nearby, padding up behind him.

  “Any luck finding her?” Froyza asked.

  Dakelo shook his head slowly, “this graveyard of trees is so vast, that anything could have happened.” He sighed. Froyza threw back his head and howled. It was so mournful and sad, that even Dakelo wanted to join in with a cry of anguish. His stomach twisted again and his knee buckled. He clamped his hand over his mouth as he started to retch. The attacks were becoming stronger and more frequent. He stared at his shaking hand, and then clenched his fist to still the tremors. Froyza nudged him

   “Are you alright?”

    “Just what is happening to me?” he whispered, “what did they do?” Froyza’s ear pricked up as the wind changed. His nose twitched furiously. “What is it?”  he asked. 

   “I smell her; it’s faint, the smoke is making it difficult, but defiantly her!” Dakelo’s spirits lifted.

    “Lead the way. Hurry!” 

            *                *              *           *          *

   “Are you sure?” he questioned. They stood at a small lake that was smothered with ash. Settled in the middle was the only tree that could have still been alive. Although its north side was burnt, the rest was still green. On the tree top there was a large bud swelling; so large that it was nearly double his height. It was the only thing that remained totally intact. He looked for a method across and noticed small mounds that he could use.

    But once he had crossed, and Froyza had swum across, he doubted she was here. He circled the giant tree many times; he even managed to climb into its branches but all he found were the remnants that she was here; there were packs and even traces of make-shift nests that weren’t destroyed by the fires. Maybe Froyza just detected this.  He slid back down the trunk and settled on the roots. He has been searching for hours but to no avail. Froyza settled down, wet and exhausted, unable to continue himself.

      Something fluttered out of the corner of his eye. He looked up and saw a single blue butterfly; its wings appeared to be glowing with a mystic sheen. It looped around his head and settled on a knot of tight roots by his side. Another one appeared and landed next to it. Soon there were ten of them.  They all seemed to be interested in something, yet there was nothing visibly different about those roots.