theworldofdreams.com

Betha smiled as she breathed the clear, cold mountain air. There was such vibrant life here in the upper meadows. The Hand of the Goddess was so evident in the grassy meadow that was filled with colorful wildflowers. A small mountain stream trickled quietly along the edge of the clearing and high above, snow dipped mountains glistened in the bright sun. The brilliantly blue sky contained a few puffy clouds that sent long shadows drifting over the forest.

A nervous rabbit bolted out of a clump of fragrant meadowgrass and Betha laughed as it stopped at the edge of the clearing and glared back at her accusingly before slipping quietly into the shadows. Sparrows and lightwings perched on a limb of an enormous oak tree. Betha moved quietly over to it and lightly rested her slender hands upon the rough, age wrinkled trunk.

She sighed as she felt the earthpower filling the venerable sentinel of the forest. This oak stretched sixty feet above her and had started from a tiny acorn. It was a miracle, a miracle of the Mother. Betha was an adept druid and was out gathering medicinal herbs for her teacher, an old woman who seemingly radiated a pure light from within her. Betha had been with her since she was a tiny girl, after her parents had been killed by a band of roving orcs. A hunter had came upon the scene too late to save her parents but had carried the baby over two mountains to this respected, and often feared woman.

Carolynth's eyes had seen over a hundred Springs in the world and she had spent her life learning the way of the druid, and the way of Life. She had named Betha for that very reason, Betha meant "life" in the old tongue. She saw tragedy and yet triumph in the girl's life and knew that all she could do was provide her with the spiritual tools of her profession.

Thus, Betha had grown up immersed in druidic lore and took to it as a fish to water, or a bird to air. She had a deep connection with the earth and could feel the life force that was resident in all living things. She had become a respected healer in the short eighteen years of her life and people in nearby villages held her in awe. Males in the village held her in awe as well but less for her capabilities than for her beauty.

Her long dark hair flowed down from her finely chiseled face like a midnight stream. Her eyes were deep pools of compassion and knowledge and a haunting innocence. Her body was lithe and shapely, as graceful as a slender reed but with the strength of an oak. Her melodius voice reminded those that heard her of a clear, shining mountain stream.

Her teacher, mother and friend, Carolynth needed spiderswort and the tiny golden cups of a dancival plant for her daily regeneration potion. It wasn't a magical potion at all, but when these were mixed with other ingredients, it was a powerful and yet gentle restorant.

Her brow furrowed as she searched for the elusive dancival plants. They were not common and tended to blend into the foliage. Whe she spotted one, she smiled quietly and moved forward, bending down to snip just the top portion of it off carefully, leaving the rest of the plant to grow again. She murmured thanks to the Mother as she gazed over the sun drenched clearing.

A shadow fell across her and she whirled about smoothly, only to stumble backwards as she beheld a pale colored, man shaped thing. It looked like a man but was covered with a glistening coating, like a slime. She automatically cast a barrier between them, without even thinking about it. The creature lunged forward with a sickeningly fluid movement only to collide with the invisible barrier.

Betha felt its strength as it impacted on the shield and knew her own strength was insufficient to withstand it for long. She summoned a grasping root to enfold the creature with its incredibly tough tendrils but the thing ripped the tendrils apart as if they were straw. She wished she had brought her druid stave, but this was such a peaceful place she rarely carried it as she was oftened over burdened with herbs, flowers and roots. With it she could have stood a chance. Without, all she could do was flee.

Instinctively, she headed away from the direction she came. There was no way that she was going to lead it toward her mother/teacher or the villages. Running full out, she continued to cast shields, treants and other barriers behind her. Those summoned entities slowed the creature down but not enough. Its silent and incredibly powerful, rapid movement sent a thrill of terror down her spine.

She would not be able to escape it. She sensed a deep, horrible, unquenchable hunger of evil deep within it. She also sensed it had once been human. She sorrowed in her heart for the lost person that it had once been and sorrowed momentarily for her own lost future. But she would not surrender, she never surrendered to anything! Her dark eyes glinting with irrepressible certainty, she turned around near the very edge of a cliff and faced the thing as it paced forward like an eerie land borne wave.

She reached down and brought up a pinch of rich earth. Kissing it and holding it high she chanted out a long polysyllabic string of words and cast the earth at her own feet to complete this irreversible spell. Her mind was centered on the relentless life inherent in the Mother, the earth. Her spirit soared to encompass, for an instant, the totality of life and she saw a glimpse of pure, unconditional love that was the Goddess.

Her feet sank into the earth and her body shifted form. Her arms and hair altered and elongated so swiftly that it was just a blur. Within two seconds she was gone and a slender young rowan tree stood atop the cliff. The creature examined the tree and from its loathsome lips spilled a sibiliant murmur of incomprehension. It took a step back, alarmed for an unknown reason. Being anywhere near this tree hurt it inside. With eye wrenching speed its nearly jointless body whickered away into the darkness of the forest, heading for a molderous swamp to ruminate and stare.

Far below in the valley, the child's destiny was finally revealed to Carolynth. She sighed heavily, tears coming to her aged eyes, but felt also a lightening of burden and an immense hope. Only the purest could have accomplished that spell. Betha's sacrifice guarded the entire valley now, her beautiful spirit would blossom and grow and in future decades, lovers would come to bathe in the tranquility of the soft mossed clifftop, under the graceful branches of the rowan tree.

One who will not be defeated can only be killed.

Nice story keep them coming. Always a pleasure to read a good story and one with so much in it.