The spirits were singing to him from the sea. Ptolemy rose in the dead of night, stepping carefully from his den and cutting a swift path across the islands. He crossed without waiting for the Bridge of Souls to resurface. When he emerged on the shore he was drenched, panting.
He staggered into the forest without pausing, and his stride smoothed after a few minutes. There was a familiar scent on the wind. Only a few minutes of searching had passed before he laid eyes on her. He broke into a grin.
@Morgra!
Ptolemy called out, shattering the relative silence of the night. The crashing waves were a familiar and forgotten lull in the background. He stepped forward to embrace his sister.
It's about time.
She had seen The Listener exactly one time since she left. And it was in a dream a few weeks ago. Ptolemy and Isangrim were there too, standing next to her. They had been summoned there by The Listener. She was stepping down, putting everything on their shoulders. There was more to the dream but the more she tried to remember the less she could. But she remembered enough that it made Morgra uneasy. She had to go home and check on things. Part of her was worried about what she would find but another part was excited to home. And maybe that was the real reason for all of it—she just wanted to go home.
She had been traveling for weeks and it showed. Her coat was dirty and her frame slighter than normal. She hadn't had much sleep or eat because she wanted to be home.
The air smelled the same as she drew close to the islands. It wasn't long before she picked up an even more familiar scent—Ptolemy. He embraced her once they were close enough, and she eagerly accepted it. She wanted to ask so many things but she wanted to greet her brother properly first. Yes it is.
Her expression darkened with concern. Isangrim? The Listener?
She needed to know.
His grin faded under her concern, and Ptolemy turned somber. Pelagius now,
He said first, and continued more quietly, Mother is gone. Dead.
But she lives in us - and in her heirs,
His eyes brightened as he went on, twin green flames in the night. Four children. Hierophant, Saint, Accipitra, and Anathema. The Listener fell to some illness at the end - she sold them, Pel says, but we'll get them back. We already have the boy, The Hierophant.
Ptolemy paused. The girls, they're... tainted. Ingram's betrayal, mother believed, but we need them anyway. We need a new Listener,
He drew in a breath to steady himself, unsettled by the necessity of their discussion. Mother had always seemed eternal; infinite. But in a way, she was. She would live again in the vessel of her choosing. Did she call you home, too?
Dead. Their mother was dead. The words stabbed Morgra's heart like a knife. All this time she had been gone and now—How long?
was all she could manage at first. She wasn't even sure why it mattered. But it did.
Ptolemy was correct; she did live on in them. And they had little siblings who carried her on. But The Listener sold them before succumbing to an illness. Her brother promised they would get them back, and she believed him. Already she wanted them home where they belonged. One was already there. The Hierophant. "I want to meet him," she said after a moment. Her little brother with the Listener's blood running through his veins. And I want to see Pelagius.
The girls were tainted, but Ptolemy was correct again: they needed them. They needed a new Listener. Morgra nodded when he asked if she had been called home. I had a dream...it was the first time I had seen her and I knew I needed to return home.
And there was work to be done. What was Ingram's betrayal?
she asked. it mattered too.
Couple months,
Ptolemy answered glumly, eyes downcast for a moment. He brightened when Morgra made mention of meeting the child, and seeing Pel again; Of course - and there's one other you'll meet. A daywalker by the name of Minuet. She's mine.
He did not bother to explain, knowing that Morgra would remember the tales from The Listener of the first daywalker she'd tried to make a Druid of. Their mother had failed — but he would not.
Ingram left,
He explained next, remnants of past anger simmering in his tone. The former Keeper had been a father of sorts to them, but no longer. Ptolemy would claim no relation to a traitor to the Druids. She called us here because she knows we would never turn traitor. Come on, let's get to the islands. They're not in bad shape, but we have work to do.
Pel and I missed you. We knew you'd come home,
He beckoned for her to follow, leading her out to where he knew the Bridge of Souls would soon appear. Low tide was coming, if they could be a bit patient — but he didn't mind swimming, either, and glanced to Morgra to see what she might decide.
A couple of months. And she had only just had the dream recently. She wondered why she hadn't felt something when it happened but then took solace in the knowledge that everything happened for a reason. She was here exactly when she needed to be. Still, her heart ached as she was sure her brothers' hearts did. Ptolemy mentioned a daywalker named Minuet. She was his. Morgra nodded. She knew her brother would succeed where their mother had failed.
She felt anger seize her heart; the same anger she heard in her brother's voice. Disappointment mixed with the anger in her chest; it was potent and she was quiet for a moment. She didn't think his betrayal warranted any more time spent thinking or talking about it. But her brother was correct: The Listener called them here because she knew they would never betray her or the druids.
She was eager to get home. I missed you both as well.
Morgra longed for the embrace of the sea. She wanted to be enveloped in the dark water. So she chose not to wait for the bridge. Morgra strode into the water and when she could no longer feel the muddy ocean floor, she started to swim.
His eyes lit with fondness upon his treasured sister as she stepped into the water, ever fearless; a Druid to her core. Morgra had always been mother's favored child. The best of them, the best of the Druids' legacy. Ptolemy followed her faithfully.
When they stepped into familiar sands, he shook out his coat and turned to her. The marks of The Druids are long faded,
He commented solemnly, but his expression shifted to an encouraging smile in the next instant. Shall we?
A homecoming tour; a round about their beloved islands to refresh what had been lost to time. They would make their presence known once again.
This time, the wilds would not forget The Druids so easily.
Morgra shook out her coat as well and nodded at her brother. There was much to be done and it started with making sure anyone who dared to come near the islands knew they were claimed. They couldn't let their mother's work be for nothing.
Her paws sunk into wet sand as she moved, leaving a trail of prints behind her, which would help mark the territory.
I've missed the islands.
She was happy they were going to make them what they once were. She wanted to make their mother proud. We must ready it for the next generation. It's our destiny to bring them into the world.
Ptolemy was surprised by her assertion, but he nodded swiftly. Druids of our own creation,
He agreed, smiling. Morgra would be a wonderful mother. We can't be as isolated as we once were. Especially with children.
It may be necessary to venture inland before we make any further moves,
Ptolemy added, stopping to mark beside one of the large boulders near the shoreline. He was loathe to leave the sea behind again — but for the Druids, he would.