Page 13 of The Witch & the Dragon

Light burst in front of them after the brief patch of darkness, and that light reflected upon an isolated glade, carefully and meticulously curated by supernatural hands. The trees formed a perfect ring, their roots conveniently dug down and out of the way from the grass and flowers that covered the lush green grass and loamy soil. Light shone down in split beams like celestial fingers reaching down toward the singular tree that grew in the very center. The tree was wide and gnarled, with many little nooks for animals to dwell in. The roots grew so thick that they provided perfect cover for a family of rabbits, which were lolling in the grass before bounding between the roots, along with a panic of squirrels and the flutter of wings in the branches.

“Chloe first,” Z’Hana said, lightly pushing Chloe to the front. “We stay close but maintain a respectful distance. Tiran, Eleanor, be ready for anything.”

The others nodded, and Chloe made her way to the tree, searching for any sign of the dryad.

A voice drifted to them, sounding as if it came from everywhere in the glade. “Ah, at last. A child of the future, with the gift of sensing certain, imminent danger. Tell me, child. Do you sense danger now?”

Since Chloe didn’t see anything else to address exactly, she ended up talking to the tree. “I sense none. But I’m afraid my powers are not always that reliable.”

The tree split open, and a leafy, bark-covered figure appeared. Vines grew out of her head like hair, and leaves popped up over the brown-gray bark, which seemed like armor. The dryad wore no clothes, but then again, she didn’t really have any distinctive features that needed to be covered.

“When we make deals, we forest folk,” the dryad said, her thin mouth cracking into a smile, “we usually want something in return. We’re not always bad or destructive,” she added, looking at the group behind Chloe, “but we rarely do things out of the goodness of our hearts. Not unless you’re someone special and you have saved another. So, future child, I require the use of your gift. In return, I will gift you with something appropriate.”

Chloe’s heart sank like a rock to her feet. “Uh…I’d love to help… but my powers really aren’t reliable.”

The dryad’s beetle-like eyes glittered. “That will not be an issue. Come. Take my hand.” The dryad held out her hand. “Whatever happens next, do not startle, and stay calm. All of you.” She glared once more at the group behind, and particularly with some animosity at Tiran.

Nervous, Chloe glanced back as well, but Z’Hana simply nodded while Eleanor watched like a hawk, ready to activate her magic in case something went drastically wrong.

Here goes nothing, Chloe thought, hoping she wasn’t about to get herself roped in something incredibly stupid.

Her hand grasped the dryad’s. The leaf stalks on the dryad’s wrist grew rapidly, now reaching and intertwining with Chloe’s hand. The dryad acted like this was something perfectly ordinary as the stalks twisted and wove up Chloe’s arm. The stalks continued to writhe until reaching her collarbone and jutting outward instead, developing into leaves and then a singular, enormous red flower that bloomed before Chloe, covering her vision entirely.

“Breathe in the scent of the flower,” the dryad said, perhaps sensing a little of Chloe’s panic. “This one has bloomed for you. It will not harm you.”

Breathe in the scent… it had a strange, pungent aroma, neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Just… there, imposing a little on them.

Her vision blurred, swirling as if all the colors of red had been sucked into a whirlpool, spinning in front, confusing all her sense of perspective.

Abruptly, things shifted. A cold, night-blanketed cemetery loomed in front of Chloe. She saw two ghosts drifting between gravestones, wandering. The scene switched to a person in an office surrounded by candles that flickered with green light, the walls of the room covered in an incomprehensible, thick black script of an unknown language. The person, wearing an old, monastic robe of brown wool and a rope used as a belt, seemed to be praying for something.

Whatever they prayed for, their prayers went unheeded. Something grew in the darkness behind them.

Another switch of scene. Now, the forest. Green grass withering as growing darkness crept in slow and hesitant.pt Chloe didn’t sense an immediate threat to her life – just a vague but strong knowledge that she did not want to be close to that creature. Whatever it was.

Wherever it went, it seemed to affect the things it touched, withering them and leaving them lifeless. Chloe was no medium, but she highly suspected that whatever she saw was some sort of ghost.

The dryad popped into sight next to Chloe and observed the scene as well. Her face shifted into disdain and contempt. “So, Jenny Greenteeth was right, after all.”

“How are you doing this?” Chloe asked with astonishment. “How are you able to get such a perfect vision from me? I don’t have any control over my powers. I’d never be able to do something like this in a million years.”

“My bloom temporarily enhances your powers,” the dryad said, “which is my own magic. I wanted to see what was in store for the forest. A Lost One, by the looks of it.”

“A Lost One?”

She indicated the dark, shambling figure. “A person, forgotten by loved ones, by history. When they are forgotten, they lose their identity entirely, but for some reason or another, their spirit is still unable to move on. It’s a type of ghost, perhaps the most dangerous type.”

A ghost. Chloe shivered.

“Then, if someone was foolish enough to summon one of them, you end up with a creature that has no connection to anything in the world anymore. They are very difficult spirits to get rid of once they manifest. And they tend to… drain magic and life from things in their vicinity. It’s not good for the local supernatural life, let me tell you. Humans, though – they’re not really affected. So… once upon a time, these were used as weapons against the supernatural.”

Weapons? Chloe blinked in astonishment. “Wait, people would actually sic these things on others?”

“In less civilized times. But then, when you start destroying all the magical habitats and the world loses its magic – then you — it’s small wonder the fae are more reluctant to deal with humans, why they hate them so much.”

Chloe still couldn’t wrap her head around the concept that humans would actually summon these creatures. “But… humans… aren’t all the ones with magic also a part of the supernatural themselves? Why would they want to do such a thing?”

The dryad crouched, watching the Lost One vanish, leaving a trail of dead plants behind it. “That’s the worst part, isn’t it? Those of our own. Those with bloodlines are reaching back to us – and they’re the ones who turn against us.”

---