The distraught Dryad
Chapter 6 - Part 2 (Voyage of the Dawn Breaker
Sensing someone coming up behind her, Ilyriatri turned and examined the dryad. This dryad was the same one that Mathair had used as an avatar, except for the absence of gray streaks in the deep, lustrous black locks that flowed around a young woman's face.
“Mac Draoidheachd,” even her voice had changed. Gone was the voice of a girl on the cusp of womanhood. In its place was the voice of a mature woman. “Look what she did to me.” Keisha turned in place to show off her new body and clothes. In place of what Mathair had worn, Keisha had shortened the top to bare more of her midriff, while the skirt had been cropped to show off more of her legs.
“Keisha,” Rhyslin whispered as she threw herself into his arms. “There, there. It's going to be okay,” he tried to comfort the distraught dryad.
“How's it going to be, okay?” She whimpered. “She changed me,” the dryad looked up, tears falling down her cheeks. “I won't be able to fit in my tree. What will I do? Where will I live?”
Rhyslin looked to the two Ciad-Ghin for help. Ilyriatri merely raised a brow while the young spell-blade tried not to laugh.
After patting the dryad on the back for a few minutes, he murmured, “I may have a tree in my grove that you can live in.”
Keisha looked up. “Really?” She searched his face for signs of deception, a hopeful look crossing her face when she could find none. “Which one?”
“The Darach in the center of the grove,” he stated as he gestured for the gangway to be moved away from the ship's side.
Keisha blinked as she tried to figure out which tree he was talking about. “Are you talking about the one that Matron Foghar lives in?” When he nodded, she gave him a look that warned him that she would ask many questions.
“Not here,” he stated. “We'll talk in my office.” He glanced at the two Ciad-Ghin, catching their attention. “If you follow me, I'll show you to your cabin.”
Rembran stood behind Captain O'Cuire on the quarterdeck, watching as the gangway was stored away. When the captain was satisfied, he nodded to Rembran. “Can you release us from the dock, Andros?”
“Of course, Magaidh Rembran,” the elemental replied, still in his barbarian guise. Under his direction, the stone fingers carefully lifted away from the ship's sides before sprinkling into dust. For a brief instant, the boat tilted slightly to the port side before righting itself. The vessel drifted forward, picking up speed as the sails caught the wind.
The captain eyed the distance from the ship's prow to the edge of the clearing. Any time now, Rembran. He glanced back and saw the contented smile on the spell blade's face.
Rembran waited a few seconds and whispered, “Take us up, Ixa. Get us above the treetops.”
“My pleasure, Maighstir,” the auburn-haired air elemental whispered as she leaned against him. “It feels good to be outside, even though it is chilly.”
“You could have changed into something warmer,” Rembran commented as he eyed her gauzy outfit.
“I could,” she agreed, “but then I would have no reason to cuddle up to you for warmth.”
Rhyslin led the three women to the guest cabin as the ship headed for the heavens. “What is that smell?” Vuuroena inquired as she covered her nose. When her mother sighed softly and shook her head, the young woman took a quick breath and uttered, “It stinks like a midden.”
“You aren't far off from the truth,” Keisha said with a giggle. When she explained what they were smelling, Ilyriatri paled a bit and attempted to cover her nose discreetly.
“Can I sleep on the upper deck?” Vuuroena asked plaintively.
“I wouldn't recommend it,” Rhyslin commented. “It's going to get colder as we climb higher.” He paused outside a door two rooms away from his cabin. “You can open a porthole to clear the smell from your cabin.”
The young woman quipped, “I don't know how to open a portal. Besides, how would that help with the stench?”
“Porthole, not portal,” Rhyslin carefully enunciated for the confused-looking Ciad-Ghin princess. He raised his left hand and, with his index finger, traced a rune on the door. Vuuroena closely watched as he completed the sigil, and the door opened. “Do you think you can draw the rune?” He directed the question to the young woman.
After glancing at her mother and receiving a raised brow in response, Vuuroena searched Rhyslin's face before replying, “I believe so, Maighstir Darkblade.”
The draoidh closed the door and wiped his hand across the door, erasing the rune. “Let's see if you can do so,” he commanded as he stepped out of the way.
The young woman took a deep breath and stepped up to the door. Slowly and methodically, she reproduced the sigil and sighed in relief as the door opened.
“Very good,” Rhyslin commented, sounding pleased with her.
Vuuroena felt a blush on her cheeks as he praised her, and she stood there, savoring the feel of his prana as it flowed over her. Then, she followed the rest into the cabin. Once inside, she barely paid attention as Rhyslin showed his guests the amenities.
“This is a porthole,” he said, gesturing for her to come closer. You slide it this way to open it,” he explained, pushing the frame to the right.
“Thank you,” she murmured as the outside air crept into the cabin, flushing out the stale air. She was so lost in the view that she didn't hear her mother.
“Maighstir Darkblade,” Ilyriatri called out as she placed her hand on a second door. “Where does this lead?”
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