He was brown, like all the others, but richer, darker, nearly black. His skin had already taken on a different texture, and appeared to them now like bark. Even with such slight changes as this they knew what this Gob would settle into. However, the branches that stuck out of him here and there, and the fresh needles they were sprouting, told them without a doubt that this diminutive being would settle into an evergreen. Already the smell coming from him was more tree than the dirt smell of the other gnomes.
It was not to him that the dryads bowed, but instead the form that manifested next. The ground before them began to glow a vibrant green, which slowly stretched up into the air, as if a being of pure green light was growing from the ground as a tree might. The green light took the form of a figure, and before long other colors began to intrude on the luminescence that distinguished the person.
The presence was undoubtedly female, and tall at that. Her very presence exuded a type of controlled power that reminded them of Porillon in strength, but was so different than her in discipline. She wore a black robe that looked to be made of fur, and her auburn hair fell in silken waves to her waist. Her skin was a type of white that reminded Angelica of fresh cream. She smiled at them with a graceful upturning of her full red lips, and crossed the clearing to them just as elegantly as the dryads had.
This was, without a doubt, one of the most powerful and controlled people they had ever met. She clasped hands with Joya, and bowed her head low over them to press her forehead against the younger lady’s hands.
“I’m Annbell Bardoe,” the woman said in a deep voice that was heavily laden with a northern accent. “And you are the hunted children of our Gracious Sylvie LaFaye. I’m honored to have you in my realm.”
“If Grace wasn’t your sister, I wouldn’t be nearly so relaxed with you knowing our identity,” Joya confessed with a frown. Jovian wondered how old Annbell was if Grace appeared as old as she did. Certainly the Guardian of the Realm of Earth didn’t seem older than her early thirties.
“As I would expect, for it’s a deadly name to bear in these days,” Annbell conceded, standing fully once more and letting Joya’s hands drop. She greeted each in turn.
“Many things are happening in the outside world,” Annbell told them as she settled down on a copse of grass that was not averanym. She accepted a small stone plate of food from one dryad and a goblet of wine from another, and took a sip before she continued. It wasn’t just food and wine that Joya saw them proffering to their Realm Guardian, but energy as well. She suspected that Angelica and Jovian could not see what was really going on, but with the supplication of wyrd the beings in the Grove of the Averanym were trying to give her it was nearly like they saw Annbell as some kind of deity. Joya was slightly disappointed that Annbell was as common as she appeared. The title Realm Guardian and the legends surrounding them conjured to Joya’s mind all sorts of fantastic images and wyrd, but looking at Annbell, Joya thought she didn’t seem any different than herself.
They hadn’t felt removed from the world, and news of what was going on outside of their adventure, until Annbell had mentioned it. Now they sat forward, intent to hear what was happening around them, as the world continued despite their removal from daily life.
“The Well of Wyrding is still in flux, as I’m sure you all know. Grace ventures now to restore balance to the well, but as of yet we have not felt her success, nor heard news of the outcome. With the corruption still gripping the well a malaise is sweeping the Great Realms. All those that are still touching their wyrd frequently are slowly being possessed by the Chaos that infects the well. All wyrd that has been cast in the past is starting to break down and corrupt.”
Angelica could not help but think of Fairview and how the majority of their buildings were kept standing by wyrd. She hoped that all was well there, for it was truly one of the most magnificent human habitats that she had ever seen.
“Needless to say many wyrders are slowly starting to break as their sanity leaves them. Some Realm Guardians are even reporting to us that smaller towns in their realms are starting to hunt down wyrders and murder them before their wyrd begins acting up too much. Wyrd has quickly gone from being revered to being feared and hated.
“I don’t know what will happen if this condition lasts for much longer. Of course Realm Guardians are immune to the affects, but we can still be overthrown and someone else be supplanted in our place.”
“But how is that possible?” Angelica wondered aloud.
“Through corruptive wyrding that I will not speak of here,” Annbell seemed so resolute that they didn’t even think of urging her to speak. “I will say that with the corruption of the Well of Wyrding, dalua wyrders gain something we do not have, full control of their wyrd without the side effects a regular wyrder has. It was seen last time the well was penetrated by Arael. Dalua wyrders seemingly climbed out of every fissure they could possibly hide in and started amassing. They had the advantage, for they could use their wyrd, where very few of us could.”
“But that’s not the only threat you have facing you,” Angelica pointed out. “Porillon seems to be taking up the post of Arael now.”
“That she does,” Annbell agreed after taking a bite of fruit. “She also has the chaos dwarves on her side. Cianna reports to us that the dwarves have an item called Wyrders’ Bane, and that it has very negative effects on a person with wyrd,” Annbell said.
“We’ve heard of that stone,” Jovian said, and Angelica nodded enthusiastically.
“That’s not the reason I’m here. I have caught you up on the major current events that concern you. I’m not sure where Amber is, she fell out of my sight some time before you came into the Realm of Earth. Porillon is on the move, tailing you rather closely.” She took a deep breath. “The reason I’m here is that Maeven is to come with me.”
“For what?” the dark-haired man asked.
“You are to be a druid, and I’m to teach you,” Annbell informed him.
“I told you!” Jovian said slapping Angelica in the arm, in response to which she yelped a protest of surprise.
“What?” She soothed her arm.
“I said before, when we were in one of those way stations, that I wouldn’t be surprised if Maeven was a druid. Remember, it was right after he met with us and I was grumbling about how much he could do?” The moment seemed to lose a little of the humor once he had to explain it to Angelica.
“Oh yeah,” she said as if she didn’t really remember it, but Joya was smiling all the same.
“What do you mean I’m to be a druid?” Maeven asked, ignoring Jovian. Maeven had never fully trusted wyrd, and though druids called what they did Wisdom, to Maeven it was all the same thing: doing something that normal people couldn’t comprehend, let alone explain or do themselves. He wanted nothing more than to be normal.
“The Goddess has marked you not for the clergy, boy, but for her higher ranks,” Annbell told him with a smile on her face as if there could be no higher glory.
“Higher ranks?” Maeven asked, seeming ruffled by the slight.
“Exactly that. There is the clergy, those that work the Goddess’ will by preaching her words and gospel, and then there are the druids. We do not preach but instead seek ever to keep the balance in the world. We are bound, as I’m sure you have felt, to the earth. When you become powerful enough you will notice that the seasons even have a bearing on your being, as if your personality will even change with their coming and going.”
“But I don’t think I have a connection; I haven’t felt anything strange, and I most certainly don’t have any special abilities. I’m normal,” Maeven protested.
“Normal people can’t read trails and paths,” Joya felt obligated to point out.
“Nor can normal people track with your talent,” Angelica said.
Maeven looked at Jovian, and it seemed for a moment that he was seeking comfort in the younger man’s eyes, but there was none to be had.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Maeven,” Jovian said, at a loss for words. “I too believe that you have a connection to the earth, but I don’t know how all this works.” He made a vague movement that clearly meant wyrd and Wisdom. But there was a lurch in his stomach at the thought of being without Maeven. He had taken the other man’s presence for granted, and now that he was leaving, Jovian felt a sadness creep up inside of him.
“And you aren’t meant to,” Annbell said. “It’s hard to tell if you would even understand it if I had time to tell you about Wisdom. Suffice to say that Wisdom and wyrd, while they appear to the outsider the same, are distinctively different. Wisdom is knowing, acquainting yourself with powers and beings of nature that will help you to an end. You can cause change in your reality just as with wyrd, but if it’s not in accordance with balance, the change may not occur.
“Wyrd, however, is a science. It’s studied and true, and where the druid is companion to the powers he wields, the wyrder is mistress of the powers she harnesses.”
“That makes me sound so cold and dominating,” Joya said, fidgeting slightly.
“Aren’t you?” Annbell asked, and Joya studied her fingers clasped in her lap. “I’m sure that, though you may not see it, you dominate quite a bit. Who is it that is really running the show here, Joya?”
None of them answered, but they all looked to her. Though it was true she was calling some of the shots and guiding them now, none of them could say it was because she was dominating, but instead because she was more powerful than they, and it was smarter to let the one with power, the one with knowledge that Angelica and Jovian did not have, take the lead. However, wasn’t that dominance? Wasn’t she the leader because she had a dominant power they didn’t, or rather a dominant power they shared but couldn’t control yet as she could?
“I see,” Annbell said, nodding. “At any rate, Maeven, whatever you had planned for yourself means little, for you are to come with me now.”
There was something in his eyes that told them Maeven had known this was coming.
“Don’t fret too much. I was also headed for the clergy when I found my true calling. I think it’s the way of all druids to fight what they are, for that’s where the Wisdom starts, coming to know yourself before you can know any other.” It made a kind of sense to Maeven, and he nodded. He had been, after all, the type that wanted to know and learn so much he guessed it only made sense when he thought about it objectively.
“When do we leave?” he asked, avoiding Jovian’s eyes. Jovian wished that he would deny it and refuse to go with Annbell, and he found his face flushing hot. Why should he care, really? But Maeven’s avoidance of Jovian’s eyes stung. He’d figured that what they had together might not be a long-term thing, but he had hoped. Now that it was coming to an end, he almost felt like he was losing a part of himself along with the older man.
That thing in Fairview Heights was just physical. He obviously doesn’t think it’s more,
Jovian thought. He cast his eyes to the ground so Maeven couldn’t see the pain in them.
If he even cares.
“As soon as possible. Preferably the same time as they leave, though we will be taking a different route. They travel south; it’s to the north we must go.”
Maeven only nodded.
“Just like that then?” Jovian asked, somewhat confused.
“You of all people, Jovian LaFaye, should understand the weight of destiny. You will only tire yourself fighting the wyrd in store for you,” Annbell said philosophically. “That energy would better be spent working toward what you must complete. Maeven is wise to know that already.”
“But…” Jovian seemed at a loss for words, and Angelica could feel through their connection that he expected something more out of Maeven.
“Aww, princess,” Maeven said, using a mocking tone that he hadn’t used in some time. However, this time Joya and Angelica were able to hear the affection in it. Jovian merely bristled at the title. “You are making me feel wanted.”
“What would make you think I wanted you around?” Jovian shot back and looked away from Maeven, his face red.
“Do you want me to be specific?” Maeven asked, and to stop the fighting before it started, Joya cut across the intake of Jovian’s breath which meant disaster.
“How did you find us?” Joya asked her finally, to break the tension that had suddenly bloomed between Jovian and Maeven.
“If Porillon had not been laying tracks behind you I would have still been able to find you through your strong wyrd, and the fact that as the Guardian of the Realm of Earth not much that happens here is veiled to me.”
“So you have wyrd that others don’t?” Joya asked, though it was not really a question. “I have read about that, Realm Guardians being more than mere wyrders.”
“That’s true in part,” Annbell told Joya. “Once the wyrd the Realm Guardians hold was a power that all within the specific realm could use, but after the splitting those powers were taken from all but the Realm Guardians. So in all actuality we really are more than mere wyrders because of our connection with our realm.”
That one question got Joya and Annbell on a conversation about wyrd that lasted through another meal. Angelica thought that Annbell, though she proclaimed she knew blessed little about wyrd, knew quite a bit. Jovian and Maeven found themselves walking off to be alone — though the grove was not precisely large enough to be out of sight, at least they could not be overheard by their companions.