The Dryad

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Note: Suicide Warning
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     With morning came nerves that could be seen floating about in tense strands amongst the group, even Haetia spent most of pre-plan prep pacing back and forth raving about all of the possible ways this plan could go wrong though. Everyone, however, seemed to ignore him and tried to focus on their own parts to play.

The first step was to put Summer and Oliver a safe but reachable distance away. Next, they split off into their designated groups: Revi with Haetia (to her dismay), and Linias with Myrin. Contrary to its ‘castle’ title, the castle was quite small and hardly befitting for a king, it was seemingly more like a manor for a low-born noble than a king’s quarters. Yet the reasons behind the king living in such a state was hardly the group's concern.

Once the horses were set, Myrin reviewed their plan of action one last time.

“So just so we’re all clear on this, Haetia you’ll be with Revi. She’ll pretend she caught you and is trying to sell you off to the king for your rare and desirable looks.” He sarcastically adds leading Haetia to scoff. “Then, Linias and I will slip past and try and get the dryad, and I’ll charm her if I have to. All good?”

Revi sighs her inevitable annoyance, Haetia rolls his eyes, Linias remains silent in subtle doubt and trepidation, and Myrin dons a snarky grin.

“Alright, good.”

The fire elemental used her flames to form a rope which couldn’t burn yet maintained some of the heat of a real fire, yet nonetheless Linias still flinched at the sight and Myrin only observed. With acquiescence, Haetia held out his wrists and let himself be bound. Once they were set, they headed towards the gate secured by a pair of guards.

     Immediately they approached the pair motioning for them to stop in their tracks.

“Halt, state your business.”

His voice clearly indicated he had little desire to perform his duties with how monotone and forced he sounded, which eased the hearts of the pair since that meant they didn’t have to try all too hard with their acting.

“I’ve got a business proposal for his Royal Majesty, I hope you understand?” Revi tugged on the flame rope, jerking Haetia forward to partially piss him off since he couldn’t say anything currently, and partially to solidify her insinuation.

The guards looked at each other then ultimately shrugged and motioned for them to carry on through, seemingly not caring enough to do much more of a check than that.

     While the guards met with the first pair at the entrance, Linias and Myrin used the distraction to sneak over the wall with his vines and into the castle. It was heavily under secured and what watchmen that they did have were too busy conversing with each other or loitering around to do much watching, so it wasn’t all that hard for them to get passed and further into the castle’s confines.

They descended a few flights of stoned stairs with Myrin leading, making Linias assume that he was informed of the layout from his time with the Seronites as well.

“She should be in the jail cells just a bit further down.” Myrin commented on his silence.

“...” Linias followed close behind, simultaneously maintaining an alert stance while remaining skeptical. “...Myrin. You were lying earlier.”

“I lie about a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” The siren tried to joke but unsurprisingly Linias’s corners didn’t even curve the slightest.

“‘Charming’ the dryad, Nevenia. Siren’s aren’t effective against dryads.”

“Wow, aren’t you the knowledgeable one?” Myrin satirically questioned, implying something that Linias chose to ignore. “Yes, I was lying about that. I could’ve made a plan where you and your ‘Master’ were stuck together but then he’d be hovering over your shoulder making sure you kill the dryad, and Revi the same.”

“So you’re trying to help me?”

“Sure, if you want to see it that way. Maybe I don’t take too kindly to killing off an already nearly-extinct race, or maybe I’m just trying to help you sleep better if at all, or maybe I have an ulterior selfish motive altogether. However you want to see it.”

His slight smile only faintly reached his apricot eyes. From his distant mannerisms Linias garnered the impression that he had more to say but was withholding it for whatever the reason. Still skeptical, he continued to follow him in pursuit of the dryad.

     Haetia tried not to gag the moment he laid eyes upon the supposed ‘Great King Arthur’, or rather his descendant by a few centuries. He was pudgy, stout, and grotesque. Clothes, fabrics, and jewels barely wrapping themselves around his fleshy frame with all sorts of tears and stains from them, fresh from the looks of it. The pair imagined that the only reason he hadn’t keeled over from heart failure yet was because of his safeguarded dryad that he had on standby to heal him whenever he needed it.

Other than another pair of guards, there were only two other staff members by the King’s side. If the security – or lack thereof – outside wasn’t enough of a sign, then by now the two could deduce that the castle was understaffed and clearly not paid enough to put in anything more than the bare minimum.

An announcer stepped forward and shouted as proudly as he could muster, “His Royal Highness, King Arthur the 64th!”

“The sixty-fourth?!!” Revi exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Fucking hell Myrin wasn’t joking about the Arthurs going through a dark age, though his numbers were off by one generation.”

King Arthur the apparent 64th (for whatever difference it makes) sludged around in his throne in a putrid attempt to sit up and get a better look at the flame spirit masked as a merchant with her wares.

Seeing her moment to speak, Revi rushed to say, “Your Majesty–Royal Majesty (I mean)! I have brought to you this…” She looks back at Haetia, trying to find a way to describe him that wouldn't have consequences later. “Rare…courtesan…? For you to use at your leisure! For the right price that is.”

“And here I thought you brought me an ill child who’s come to seek the use of my dryad!” He spoke in choked gurgles and shuffled in his throne some more.

Haetia swallowed a retch and muttered as low as possible, “You better not let him put a single fucking finger on me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know!” Revi cleared her throat. “Well, your Royal Majesty?”

“And why would I want to pay for something that looks so sickly–and especially from a fire elemental no less! Do you not see how pale your supposed courtesan is?!”

“Ah but your Royal Highness,” she scrambled to come up with an excuse to persist with the act, “That’s what makes them so rare! Have you ever seen someone with such pale skin before? And their multicolored eyes are truly a sight to behold! Like a pair of…”

“Lilacs.” Haetia murmurs.

“Lilacs! Amongst…”

“Poinsettias.”

“Poinsettias!”

Haetia quietly sighed, unbelieving himself that being the Master of a nature-freak like Linias and all his lessons that came with it would come in handy for once, as little as he paid attention to them.

Still, ever incredulous and unconvinced, the King maintained his displeased scowl and knitted brows.

They didn’t care too much for getting caught, since Revi had the utmost confidence that she could blast through the poor excuses for soldiers that were here. It was more the fact of maintaining his attention away from the dryad and thus off of Linias and Myrin, and the King wore his boredom and disinterest in his slouch and drooping eyes.

Just as Revi began to scamper for a new plan, a rush of clanking footsteps flooded through the halls until they burst through the door.

At the same time the thought came to them, the two cried in unison, “Seronites!!”

King Arthur struggled to his feet to attempt to assert his authority and in a jumble bellowed, “What’re you doing intruding in my halls!”

Ignoring him completely the men clad in black and red armor snapped their attention towards the pair, specifically Haetia.

“GET HIM!!” “DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

     The closer they got to the dungeons, the faster and longer their steps became. There wasn’t even the sound of chatter amongst the guards, something had to have happened for it to be this eerily quiet.

Linias and Myrin breezed past the cells, taking brief glances inside until they turned a corner and were met with what had transpired to cause such discomforting stillness.

A swarm of moss covered roots tore apart the bars to one of the cells, pinning a few guards to the walls and ground. The roots traveled further down the halls, highly likely the direction she fled towards.

“Fuck–She escaped! We have to get to her before the Seronites and–”

Before Myrin could even finish his worries, a thunderous explosion convulsed the manor enough for them to lose their balance.

“You think the Seronites–?”

Myrin tried to start again but Linias was already sprinting down the hall and leaping across the roots, not even giving a moment to think about the situation.

“H-Hey–Wait up!!”

He fumbled after him yet trying to catch up to the retainer was something he had quickly given up on and became settled with a few feet distance between them as they hastened down the corridors. A few guards breezed past them in parallel, not paying them any mind as they made their way towards the audience room, but Linias wasn’t focusing on that. He kept his eyes and steps locked on the pathway of the roots which stretched until the far end of the hallway, finally stopping at an open window.

And there, he saw her. Her tattered dress and shackles that desecrated her thin wrists and figure. Autumn leaves and bark mixed into her skin and disheveled hair.

The retainer didn’t even realize that he had lept out of the window after her until he heard his name called by an all too familiar voice.

“Linias!”

His head snapped to the left.

“Master?!”

Haetia was strapped to Revi’s back, limbs wrapped around like he’d die if his legs hit the floor.

“Fuck we really need to stop doing this window thing–” Revi’s voice cut the once the sight of the dryad dashed into her peripherals. “The dryad-! Linias–”

Another storm of violent rattles signified armor and blades as another swarm of Seronites rushed around the corner, swords first and negotiations last.

“Shit–! Linias, I got Haetia and the Seronites, just get the dryad!!”

Swiftly falling from the window Myrin thudded beside Linias, scarcely managing to break his fall with a thick sludge of water. He barely got his wits about him when he saw the motion of the fire elemental’s hands and immediately he tried to warn her in a frenzied shout, “Wait Revi don’t–!”

In the same instant her flames scorched the grassy plains, creating a scaling ring of fire that encapsulated the pair with the dryad in the blink of an eye.

And just like that, Linias froze. The flames roaring, towering over him just a foot or two away.

Myrin pulled against his arm, then the collar to his sweater, shouting words that he couldn’t outright hear as they became muffled the more his fears took over.

Until the sharpest strike across his cheek that he’s ever felt jerked his entire body a full length aside.

“GET THE FUCK UP!” The siren’s eyes flared almost as bright as the raging wall of flames before him. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t say that any nicer but we need to get moving Linias!” He gestured off into the distance.

The dryad.

Linias closed his eyes, forcing himself to look away from the flames and onwards towards the dryad. Nevenia.

Without any words, he merely swallowed as much of his fears as he could and rushed forward with Myrin close behind.

The dryad stopped on the opposite end of the ring of fire, close enough for the embers to graze her skin. As she halted she turned back to her pursuers who had finally caught up to her.

Eyes as orange as maple leaves, Linias was all too familiar with the look in her eyes. Hopelessness.

She’d been held captive for years–decades. And, it showed. Like an orphaned child she held herself close and remained attentive of every breath and blade of grass, waiting for so much as a sliver of an opening to continue fleeing.

They maintained a few yards distance, but they had altogether stopped running towards her the moment she turned around.

Linias tried to take a cautious step forward with peaceful gestures, as though approaching a distressed and petrified animal, but she snapped at him in a flash.

“STAY AWAY!!”

Immediately he ceased his movements, then resorted to speech.

In a quiet, comforting voice, he muttered, “...We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to help.”

“Hah! You, help?! You can’t even help yourself!” Nevenia scorned, and if she had fangs they would’ve surely been flaring. “I’ve been subjected to that…thing for my entire life! Forced to heal him, even for things as small as a papercut or a prick on his thumb! And they couldn’t even do me the decency of feeding me well, or clothing me well, or even giving me a bed to sleep on through it all!”

Her voice starts to quake as the leaves adorned across her body shift to a deeper shade of reds.

“Tell me, how would you help me?! By forcing me along with you?? You seem to have an army after you already! I’m tired–tired of waking up every day and being subjected to the treatment that not even an animal receives! I’m no different than some healing staff that you would find in a merchant’s shop!!”

Linias held his locket, his silver gaze reflecting his solemn sincerity and mourning, “We’re not going to force you to come with us, I know how dangerous it is and I don’t want you to go through anything more than you already have, and especially not against your will. But, I swear on my life that I would not let any harm come to you.”

Nevenia scoffed a broken scoff that hurt her more than anything else. “And…How do you expect me to believe that? I–” Her vocals crack. She shakes her head and what droplets of tears started to form and tries again. “You’re–....Maimed. Physically torn and you expect me to believe that you can protect me? I heard you. I heard you call that man your Master. You’re no different from me. If I’m a bird in a cage then you’re a falcon in a kennel. A cage is a cage no matter the size. How am I to believe that I’ll be free if you’re not? And even if I was, to live a life like yours, constantly running–No. You make me realize, even if I were to escape, they would all hunt me down. That’s what they did to the rest of us, isn’t it? Hunted us, burned us out of our homes. If running really was the answer we would still be alive by now. You can keep running, but I won’t. No–I won’t let them have me, nor you, nor anyone else, man or mythical. I’ll free myself from this–this cycle of endless torment and indignation.”

Whatever caution Linias tried to maintain he tossed aside the moment she drifted rearwards…

…But…

He was too late.

By the time he had only made half the distance and his vines the rest she was already eclipsed by the merciless barrier that screamed to life upon her entry.

His outstretched arms stopped right before the wall of flames as he watched them engulf her. Her body. Whatever remained of her spirit and soul. Using every leaf and stretch of bark on her skin as kindling.

The flames roared, laughing at him. Mocking him. His impotence. His fears. His hopelessness.