[EDITING] Seileah, a young ground-spirit of the Great Morook Mountains, is the inspiration of all of her clan. She sees and interprets what nature can teach them, but when one day she sees the truth of her home, she knows her people will not underst...
Iris, the seer, put the Yakel horn down and sat—her head tilting backward. She leaned into the tree she'd grown close to when she was a child. She 'looked' deeply into that window of hers—out into endless worlds and all their permutations. It was her job to keep watch over the portals.
As always, the flow began and she was drawn to a specific moment of entry 'of its choosing'—she liked to think. Or was it more a call received only for her to answer? Not that this mattered. What did matter was to accept the place and time from 'there and then' as it became the new 'here and now'.
"The point of power is in the pressssent," she suddenly heard a voice hiss, overhearing her thoughts. And who could disagree? She stopped and poised her intensions.
Iris felt the moments connect—her own now with then, her here with there—and substance began to flow into form. 'Form determines function' and Isis was determined.
The form took shape and Isis's inner eyes opened wide at the shape that she saw—its long neck, its huge head with enormous piercing eyes that stared right through her—wings of leather and bone so strong, talons sharp as the sharpest of swords and those powerful hind legs on which it perched. Both eyes soon filled her entire field of vision and held her fast like some ill-fated prisoner bound for the stocks—if her world had become a different world than this here and now.
Was she the observer, —or the observed? Iris felt the nape of her neck bristle in concern for her own safety, yet the vision was as spectacular as it was terrifying—the colours, the molten power this dragon exuded held her in place. And then he spoke—
"Iressss-kuh," his undulant voice echoed her name in her ears, and the hiss that only dragonspeak contains, rolled on for effect. "I've need of you," he spoke succinctly. And as surely as she knew her own name, she knew that choice was not implied, and she could only nod her head, affirming response to Great Haponethra's presence.
"Is it the girl?" Iris simply enquired.
"She has been brough-ttt for you to deal with. She needs moving now, from where she lies—mewling—a babe in the foressss-t," and with that, the great hold released her.
Haponethra had already gone. Iris's mind-sight went blank.
"I will take care of it," she muttered to herself and pulled back from her window in time.
Iris let her senses drift to the feelings of earth—the moistness of form—the teaming life of the microbes.
She came to the surface as her awareness of mind let her meld with the elements—passing between and through All—to emerge from the soil.
She shook her head and brushed the leaves off all around her. She took the essence of bark and the feeling of dry grass, and with the closing of eyes, she saw herself clothed in the normal outfits of local sprites or implings.
Now she looked the part, or so hoped that she did. She didn't have long and it would be sundown. It would take a while before movement with limbs seemed natural and she had to cover much territory to get to the child, that was if she could make it; and so she must do.
Her people were Fae Known—decedents and friends of the fairies or the star people who had come here before time. They spoke for the earth! And now a starchild of the elf line was here—the girl, Seileah—she spoke such for them!
It was thus her duty to aid them, also. If this child were to live and to cross from her current form and into this world in safety, it would be up to her.
"Let Om Moon bless my steps this night from all breadths of time and into these forests. Be in the stillness and travel with care," Iris whispered just to herself and she started—her bare feet upon stone—up to the cliffs of the Great Morook rock ways.
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Well, that's a beginning...
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(Anyone notice two clues—tie-ins to previous stand-alone stories...?)
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