•The Story Of The Lost Princess•

•19•

-¿Why aren't they waking up?- Ivy asked with a broken voice, tears threatening to fall.- We extracted the poison as you said, they should be awake by now.

She looked at Eidara's and Ray's bodies lying limp on the thin beds, pale skin and sweaty, but faces with no emotion nor pain. She could have sworn they were dead, if it were not for the slow and tranquil raise of their chests.

-I do not know, my sweetheart.- Mary, Ray's grandmother, whispered gently while caressing her grandson's hair.- I just don't know.

She breathed heavily before wiping away the tears, marching out the green tent with her lips pursed tightly, trying to avoid the image of their pale faces and sunken eyes.

Their village had been attacked by bandits the day before, which was not as rare as it should be. They ended with two dead bodies and three injured men, but no one suffered more severe damage. Anyone but Ray and Eidara.

The bandits had a druid amongst them, a middle aged man full of resentment and hate towards his people, believing that druids were seeking their doom as they stayed peaceful against the hatred towards magic Albion was throwing at them. He was a good warrior, and he almost killed her if it were not for her friends.

They stepped in front of her before the man could cut her throat like a lamb, and they both defeated him in no time. When the fight ended, the bandits lying limp on the ground and the sorcerer now dead, they passed out cold.

Everything went on like a blur then, she remembered how loud she screamed, shouting mad for help as kneeled at their side, not caring about how her knees hurt at the force of the fall. She gasped a sob when she saw a cut shining green on both of their arms, leaking blood and a translucent liquid.

Robbie, Eidara's protector in the druid camp, had to wrap his arms around her lithe frame to stop her from running over them when their grandparents ordered them to take their bodies to the camp. Everyone moved like a fuss around her, Robbie's gentle voice reassuring her, trying to make her react. When she did, she could only sob like a little girl at their side, Ray's grandfather hugging her while she cried.

The night had fallen above them, and they showed no sign of waking up even when the cuts were now clean and wrapped in bandages.

-It was not a mere poison, Aradic.- she heard Enna, the leader of the camp, say to Ray's grandfather.- It comes from pure magic.

-You all practice magic, Enna.- the men said desesperatly.- Surely there must be something you can do.

-Our magic is not a rival against this kind of magic, not when it comes from the deepest places of the world.

-Do not tell me my grandson and his friend have no hope, don't you dare.- he hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the tears even when she could not see them.- your healing methods are centuries above normal ones. You cannot say there is nothing to do.

-This type of magic can only be defeated by the same magic that created it.- she said sorrowfully.- I have only seen it once in my travels, and even then I never wished to contemplate it again.

-Just throw what you know, Enna.- Aradic growled.

Ivy held her breath as she covered herself better with the tree, trying to hear better.

-The mountain of dead memories.- she said then, and it felt like everything went silent around them.- Deep inside the caves, Ancient Gods of the Old Religion guard this kind of potion, which cure can only be given by them and no one else. The legends spoke about Kings and Soldiers seeking the poison in search of revenge, from rival Kingdoms to cheating wifes.