Wolf RPG

she was in utter turmoil. and though she told her father everything, and he spoke to her as well, deirdre knew in these trying times she needed a deeper sign than this. casmir's words had been a balm to her, but casmir was not within donnelaith and had duties to attend to within the creek. she did not wish to distress constantine any more than surely she did, though it was always his counsel she trusted and sought. she trusted him, above all--

but she wished for her father, as all daughters who have lost their fathers were wont to do. she missed his murkwater gaze and the warmth of his breath as he told her a story. she missed the way he spoke of the highlands and his happiness at his dreams, realized.

she wished for her mother, too. her lessons on herbs, and the way her father looked at her-- a way he had never looked at any other. his true love, his partner, her mother. goodhearted, kind, a giver and a lover. but eilidh's presence had been a constant and consistent one. only when eilidh had gone for a short time did deirdre realize how painfully she missed her mother!

deirdre moved to her fathers grave. 'round it, now, was a circlet of flowers still in bloom. she nosed one gently, and moved to collect some rocks she had kept near his grave. she made the circle; she called to the elements; she thanked them, thanked them profusely, before she sang in a chanting lilt:

mi a 'faighneachd sìthiche bho fiadhaich
a 'tighinn agus buailteach a bhith beag seo ròs leanabh
leanabh adhair i an-diugh a 'soirbheachadh
freumh a h-anam anns na ban-diathan ' crèadha
sìthichean a dhèanamh an àite so do sgàil
le bhith a ' agaibh draoidheachd bithidh àm faic i flùr!

she felt spent by this; spent, and something else. she moved to lay; she heard the wind urge her to rest, to close her eyes. and she heard her fathers voice, too, in the wind. it soothed her to sleep, it promised protection--and something more.

he was roused.

the world of misted dreams took no corporeal form; rather, it melded around its denziens with whispers of their personal memory. lasher knew he was not alone, for he sensed the presence of others, but he was not turned aside by this. the mayfairs followed, calling to him in their gentle voices, murmuring to their taltos to be unafraid. it was in this place that he had woken after the tenuous bond to his spirit had been severed by death's bite, and it was here he had remained.

the druid oft wondered if it was a purgatory in which he was held; where were the glowing veils of heav'n? or perhaps he had been meant for hell, the gehanna of his creation. but he felt no wails within him, no need to gnash his teeth and curse god above for what had befallen his soul.

lasher was existent; and yet he was not. he breathed; and yet he drew no breath. and he was unseen. from time to time, the earthen man was given glimpses of his beloved donnelaith! of his children! and of emaleth, wherever she had gone. and eilidh also. he saw the face of blue willow, the pain in the souls of constantine and casmir, the turmoil of aria's mind, but moreover lasher was deeply pained by the wellspring of agony that had blackened the flowers of his little deirdre's pristine heart.

it was her lilting voice lifted in a spell of glen-tongue that moved in sussuration o'er the grey mists, and lasher moved toward it. he could not be sure if he would be allowed to leave, but soon the gloom thinned, lifting from him as if from so many cobwebs, and he stood upon the verdant grass of donnelaith.

he did not breathe the scents there, not in a lively expression -- he merely felt them as one might feel heat and cold, and therefore he felt the reaching of deidre's spirit, she who lay pillowed upon the cairn that housed his bones, and he felt his throat tighten with words he did not dare believe she would hear.

"iníon ! briseann mo chroí do pian!"

when her eyes opened, there was a distinct haze that permeated the realm. to concentrate on one thing for too long was to distort it, and yet she could not help but attempt to focus on the source of the words she had heard. who it belonged to was indisputable, and she floated as she roused herself. 

he was as she remembered! 

deirdre's emerald eyes were not at all disbelieving, but she was bewildered nonetheless. she wondered if... 

athair, she whispered, before moving to touch him, to hold him. would her dreams permit this? permit her to feel? sometimes she felt everything--other times, she felt nothing at all. tá mé dearmad pian, tá do ghuth a antidote! it was him that she had most longed for, in all of her dreams!

she rose! she came to him! his heart lifted and the murkwater of his gaze found that of deidre's own. so lovely she was! so like a woman, a mayfair witch, though her eyes held an innocence that revealed her age regardless of her body's expression. "chaill mé tú," he whispered. she could not touch him; or perhaps he could not feel the warmth of her kiss. but there was a sensation all the same, something he had not experienced since his death, and the tears rose and flowed as water. "deirdre," lasher cried out brokenly.

it was a shock to feel whatever it was that came between them, or from them--it was a charged energy, but not a true presence. but he did not disintegrate or disappear--he was still there! and he spoke, again, his gentle voice took from her every anxiety, every worry, she had endured. do not weep, she begged, i feel you near every day, father. i only hope that i am making you proud, she looked downward, unsure of herself, suddenly. what did he know? what could he see? had she done right by him? o! to wrong him was akin to a sin to the pale cub, who only wanted to keep alive what he had made for them, here!

he remained -- he did not waver before her touch. relief flooded lasher, and he looked deep into the brilliant emerald of her eyes. "deirdre. i do not see all that goes on; i am ... not allowed." by whatever accursed power's decision, the druid was blocked from a constant view of donnelaith and his family therein. "but what i do see, i look upon with favour. you have done well, my little witch. and emaleth will return. watch for her."

deirdre tilted her head at his words, confused by this; she had always felt him by her side, but perhaps he was not even aware he was there! or perhaps it was not him there, after all. she was unsure... and as he spoke upon what he did see being viewed with his favor, deirdre could not help but smile radiantly; this was a dream, fulfilled! and emaleth would be returning! i will, she promised in earnest, her heart racing within her chest.

if you cannot see all, then let me tell you some things you might wish to know. caiaphas had come to seek you. she was to be turned away, but i was able to inform her of what had come to pass. rowan is no longer with us, and casmir believes it is because she is with your children, because of jealousy. i am not sure if this is true, but i cannot make sense of it, father. i love aria, and i am not sure why she would do this thing! but she, rowan, abandoned constantine, who was her escort. i am not sure where she is, now, but i will seek her, came an unspoken vow. there was some mistrust planted in rowan due to her leaving constantine behind, which she could not understand... she told her father this to see if perhaps rowan had lied, if perhaps she fled her lie from the one last male mayfair of donnelaith who might be able to see the truth.

a pack resides next door to us. they offer donnelaith protection, which is kind of them. we have allied ourselves with them. they are at the bay, she hummed, and continued, we do not rely on them for this protection, but when any of them are injured or weak, we will aid them, this made her happy; for healing and helping others was her passion. i wished to ask this of you, father... when creating donnelaith... what was it you wished? i remember the stories you have told me of it, when i was so young. a peaceful place, a sanctuary... what of... battle tactics? she inquired, gently. she did not say the word with scorn, only emphasized it so that there would be no misunderstanding of what it was she had just said; if her father wished this to be the course donnelaith turned to, then, once awakened, aria might find a more open-minded girl.

lasher settled himself to listen, and a myriad of emotions passed across his face as his little witch spoke. caiaphas! his heart leapt to hear her name, but guilt settled over him, that she had been turned away. an expression of pain gripped his countenance to learn that rowan had been thrown out by aria, and he remembered his promise to the pale girl who now ruled. he had once meant to give her children, but had been taken by death before that -- now rowan, who carried his brood, was outcast.

and yet there was hope here -- beauty in the existence of the tiny forms that now nestled in rowan's womb. lasher listened to the news of the pack deirdre considered allies, and heard her inquiry, but his mind was swimming with shimmering tears that his witches would continue into yet another generation.

"rowan," he asked in a rasped whisper. "when last you saw her, was she well?" he must know! as to the question of his green-eyed witch: "donnelaith is a haven for those needing succor. defend yourselves against onslaught yes; i killed for you, my girl, and i would again! -- but do not become a land of war, of fighters. we have no need of that. our savagery is innate; it is upon our gentler nature that we must work."

to her fathers question, deirdre nodded. yes, she surely seemed it, though there was worry there, too, i think, she told him. and evidently, for good cause! deirdre would not have ever thought the series of events that had occurred would have come to pass, but they had. her heart seized within her as her father spoke of killing for her--there was a flash of teeth, as a memory unbidden and hidden lept to the fore--before she saw only him again. she was startled, for a moment, but at ease again. all her father had done was for her, his family, donnelaith. she understood it well; he was not a man who killed in cold blood.

i will see that we do not, she hummed, nodding her head. for donnelaith was her fathers making, and deirdre would nourish it, love it, alongside aria she hoped! and she knew to defend onesself was a necessity; donnelaith would not fail for its lack of that. i wish to one day rule, father, as you and mother had. beside aria, her ears perked atop her head, wondering what he would think of this! for never, while he lived, had she spoken of such a dream, but this very dream had awakened in her recently, upon reaching seven months when her ambition first began.

worry.  of course there had been worry in rowan's heart, she who carried his babes, she who had been driven out of donnelaith! where she was meant to give birth! lasher harboured no malice toward aria, nor constantine; he knew they believed this to be the best and most natural course of action, but his heart broke for poor rowan and the burden she would carry for all time.

he sensed deirdre's fear, and his arms ached to hold her close as he had done when she was small, but the gentle, green-eyed creature was a child no longer, save for her innocence of worldly things. may she always remain as such, he hoped within his spirit. to rule! ah! "you are the one for it. your sister also; heirs to donnelaith in a way that your brothers and eilidh are not." lasher loved well all his children but he did not sense in his first litter the raw selflessness he saw in deirdre.

all at once there came a gentle chiming, and the druid's countenance fell. "dear one -- dear, sweet child, i must leave you now, i fear." there followed a sigh. "but i shall come to you when i can. be strong, and put donnelaith first in all things. i love you."

and with that the spectre of the wolf faded into what appeared to be fairylights, dancing momentarily before they too transitioned into nothingness.