Whispers Of Peace And War

10

10

The night was long and cold, even with the heat of the fire, around which they all slept as close as safety allowed. Except Mythrd had a fitful, dream-laden sleep, of great towering creatures. Three of them, in vague human forms. A man, so tall, skin like the most ancient of tree's bark, rutted and fissured, two branches growing from his head, like antlers. Hair that flowed to its knees, made from twigs and leaves of all kinds. A beard of the same and bushy, leafy eyebrows that fell down its cheeks.

He dreamed of a woman, sensuous and naked. Breasts of great, deep green, watery waves, ever rolling and crashing upon its chest. Hair of sparkling blue and white, like a waterfall cascading down its back to its feet, where it pooled around its toes. Eyes so black and fathomless, calling to him to dive deep and to become lost within those bottomless depths.

A girl, made from mountain crags and rolling hills. Eyes of diamonds, with burning, bright orange lava hair, that boiled and dribbled down its back. Flint fingers upon basalt hands. Soil eyebrows and emerald teeth, ever smiling as unseeable light glinted from them and the diamond eyes. Twinkling with age and knowledge.

Each of these figures stared down at his unmoving body, pressing budding fingers, tidal fingers, flint fingers into his flesh, testing and examining his entirety. Whispers burrowing into his mind of ages past, days never-ending. Of infinite wisdom that he failed to grasp, even as he fought to ask questions, beg more of unknowable things. They rose and fell before his eyes, smiling, grimacing. Full of justified fury and blissful peace.

He awoke to find Gythryn kneeling beside him, hand upon his chest with a look of great concern upon her face. As he opened his eyes, he saw a deep sigh of relief escape from her lungs. He felt as though he hadn't slept at all. Struggling to sit upright, he saw the faces of Kaninzir and Abbot Llwnthrn staring at him, each with an expression of their own.

Kaninzir smiled, his warm, green eyes appeared to share Mythrd's dreams. A knowing, satisfied look that spoke of shared experience. Llwnthrn scowled. She too looked as though she understood, but her look held fear and disappointment behind her grey eyes. Each of the older ones observed him according to their prejudice. Gythryn looked as one friend to another.

"It's morning, though you'd be hard pressed to tell." Offering her hand, Gythryn helped Mythrd to his feet and nodded towards the outskirts of the standing stones. "The Traal have gone again. So has your precious deer."

Rubbing his eyes, shaking out arms and legs that felt as though he had helped his father carry logs the entire day before, Mythrd turned his eyes, following Gythryn's gaze towards the outer circle of standing stones. Things looked very different upon this cold, dew covered morning and Mythrd couldn't help but feel that it portended ominous things.

A think blanket of fog had fallen across the entire henge clearing. Mythrd could see nothing beyond the outermost stones, but a wall of creeping, squirming white. The fog appeared to crawl across the unseen barrier of the standing stones, trailing up, over the invisible dome and down the other side, a curtain of mist that blocked out only the strongest rays of the Sun.

"The boy will awaken soon. You must prepare yourselves." The old man had risen to his feet, but looked none-the-worse for sleeping in the cold night. "He will likely be confused. He'll need your help."

"Our help? What about you? The Abbot?" Mythrd glanced towards Agarang, who seemed no closer to awakening as he had before. The old man grunted, stretching his back. "I don't know anything about healing, nor does Gythryn."

"True. I'm more likely to be the cause of someone needing healing." With a hand on Mythrd's shoulder, Gythryn shook her head. "Both you and the Abbot are better suited to caring for someone."