Daughter of the Trees
Chapter 3 - Part 1 (Voyage of the Dawn Breaker)
Rhyslin nodded and followed Vuuroena into the council hall. Immediately upon entering, he found himself standing at the entrance of a beautiful rotunda. He tilted his head back and looked at the glass dome covering the indoor garden. The garden's periphery was divided by four walkways that ended in a path that circled the ubhal[1] tree in the center. He could sense the dryad resting in her tree from where he stood. Each of the four quads around the ubhal tree had smaller trees of the same type, surrounded by local perennials that he could tell had been lovingly maintained.
"The council chamber is this way," Vuuroena commented as she led them toward the central courtyard. As they passed the well-tended Rosan bushes, Rhyslin took a deep breath and savored the scent. As they circled the ubhal tree, Rhyslin took a moment to brush his fingers across the tree trunk. From above, he heard a soft sigh and a pair of dainty hands wrapped around his hand while a vine reached down and swiped his hat off his head.
“Greetings to thee, Mac Draoidheachd[2]. You honor me with your presence,” a voice from above said merrily as she squeezed his hands. Returning the soft touch, Rhyslin turned and looked up into the tree, where a busty red-headed dryad with cat's ears was leaning half out of her tree, his hat firmly resting atop the wild curls.
“Nighean na coille[3],” he replied with a smile. “How do you fare?”
“I fare well,” she intoned solemnly, “The Clann na coille have built a wondrous enclosure for Dearg's grove.”
“They have indeed,” Rhyslin admitted as he rested the staff on his left shoulder and reached up to retrieve his hat.
The busty dryad giggled as she leaned back out of his reach. “Doesn't your hat look good on Dearg?” She inquired as she puffed out her chest, emphasizing her ample endowments.
“Yes, it does look good on you,” Rhyslin agreed, playing with the flame-haired cat girl. “But it's just so sad,” he feigned a frown.
“Sad? Why sad?” She leaned toward him, watching his face. “Mac Draoidheacd, why is it sad?”
Rhyslin caught a lock of beautiful red hair as it fell from under the hat. “While the hat does look good on you, it covers your magnificent hair.”
She softly moaned as he ran his fingers up that strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. “Oh, Mac Draoidheachd, that feels so good.” When he cupped her cheek, she purred. “I was resting when Mathair na Coille came through the first time. May I go with you and meet her?”
“Of course, you may, Dearg ubhal,” he took a step back and held her hands as she stepped out of the tree and stood at his side. She was not as tall as he was, standing just at the height of his shoulders.
“Thank you, Mac Draoidheachd. I will be as quiet as a dealan-de.” She whispered as she reached up and placed his hat back on his head. Then she turned and looked at Vuuroena for a long moment. “Dearg thinks she must change her appearance.” She muttered as she circled the young woman.
Once she had finished examining Vuuroena's clothing, the dryad returned to Rhyslin's side and posed for him as she altered her appearance. The leaves on her chest grew slightly larger and shifted to form a short-cut blouse that covered her breasts but left her stomach bare. The leaves below shifted to form a wrap-around skirt that rode low on her hips and ended just above her knees.
“How does it look, Mac Draoidheachd?” she inquired with a tilt of her head.
“Lovely,” Rhyslin said after she turned in place. “Lovely. Mathair will be pleased.” When he saw Vuuroena's shocked expression, he arched a brow. “What's wrong, young one?”
Vuuroena gestured to the dryad's clothing as a slow blush colored her cheeks. “She's … well, her clothes are … very revealing.” She stammered.
“You must not spend much time around dryads,” Rhyslin commented. When Dearg giggled, he hushed her, not reacting to her stammered apology. His attention, as well as Marcus', was fixed on the young lady, who blushed a deeper red.
“There are very few trees in the desert,” Vuuroena explained, not meeting Rhyslin's gaze. “I had never seen a dryad before Mathair na Coille called us here. The sand walkers bury themselves deep in the sand during the day. When they come out to hunt at night, they are covered head to toe.”
Rhyslin nodded his understanding. "Sensible. Protection from the sun and blowing dust." Having spent time in the desert, Marcus shared a look with his friend. “Well, dryads rarely cover up, preferring to show as much of themselves as they can in honor of Mathair na Coille creating the world.”
“I see,” the young woman said as she looked at Dearg; her blush wasn't as deep this time.
The dryad listened to Rhyslin and Vuuroena, amazed as the young woman described the desert. “A place with no trees?” She leaned back against her tree in shock. She couldn't wrap her mind around the idea. “Oh, poor little one.” she whimpered, running over to the Ciad-Ghin and wrapping her in a tight hug. “I am so, so sorry.”
The young spellblade accepted the dryad's hug, wordlessly begging Rhyslin for help, even as she slowly returned the hug.
“That's enough nighean na coille,” Rhyslin whispered as he stepped up behind the dryad and ran his fingers through her hair. “Let her go.”
When Dearg released her with a muted “Yes, Mac Draoidheacd,” Vuuroena gave him a grateful nod.
“Come on, Dearg,” Rhyslin whispered as he slipped his right arm around her waist. “Mathair na Coille is waiting.”
“Yes, Mac Draoidheacd,” she gazed mournfully at the young Ciad-Ghin. “Do you think Mathair knows about a place with no trees?" the dryad inquired as she tilted her head to look at the Draoidh.
“I'm sure that she does,” he commented as Vuuroena turned and led them toward the council chamber.
[1] apple
[2] Son of magic
[3] Forest daugther
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