Page 6 of The Pastel Prince

Several days into the trip, we had covered good ground. We could have been further along if I had been willing to run her harder, but I wasn’t. Galloping at breakneck speed would only tire her out and possibly make her lame, which would only slow us down. Also, she was a mellow lady who preferred a gentle hand and a pleasant trot. Yes, I was anxious, and when we had a good road free of divots and washouts, I would give her some head, but overall, we kept a steady pace. The cityscape had faded at the end of our first day, opening up into farmlands as far as the eye could see. It took many acres to feed a vill the size of Renedith. Most of the wild trees had been cut down hundreds of years ago, but even so, the open fields of beans and orchards filled with crisp apples and green pears were freeing. I felt more myself, a child of the glens as the humans liked to call us.

The farmlands were now giving way to the edges of the vast Verboten woods. Fields of hay butted up against thin woodlands with skinny saplings along the hedgerows filled with heavy rocks plowed up by the elves who worked the land.

Nin kept close vigil. At the end of the second day, after my horse had been tended to, I whistled to him as I made camp along a crystalline brook several hundred paces from the main road north. I pulled out a sheaf of rich vellum from the castle, sat down on my bedroll, and jotted down my location while thebird flittered down to pick at the carcass of a rabbit crushed under what looked to be wagon wheel tracks.

Then I sent the raven off. The night swallowed him quickly. I’d not lit a fire as the evening was temperate, and I wished not to draw any attention. I ate a ration of berries, some dense bread, and a small elven cream tart, slightly smashed and leaking thick cream, that I was sure Aelir had swiped and hidden among my things. Each bite made me smile. I did sorely miss that boy.

The trees nearby were peaceful, the night sky filled with fireflies dancing over the leaf litter that cushioned my thin sleeping roll. I wiped my fingers on my trousers before lying down to stare at the stars peeking at me through the openings of the leaves. Sleep quickly arrived. My dreams unsettled dark things filled with living statuary that shambled after me as I tried to run but could not.

I came awake with a start at dawn, Atriel and Nin staring at me as I kicked at my covers. Once I saw that I was not in the death grip of a fiend with granite skin, I calmed, but my heart thundered madly.

“Dreams,” I told my companions before I freed myself of my bedding, sat back on my heels, and prayed. Brow to the dewy grass, I asked my goddess to guide me to the Black Lake to find this old man. And to have him be in able-enough shape to ride a horse. Or a mule. Or even a burly mountain goat like the dwarves rode down the slopes of the Witherhorn Mountains. If Danubia heard me or not, I could not say.

By lunch, I knew she had. I’d ridden past a small farmstead where a young girl was playing alongside the road with a scraggly puppy. I stopped, slid from the saddle, and kneeled inthe dirt to speak with the child while petting the dog. The pup was happy, his emotions those of pure love for the tiny elven girl in the dirty dress. When I asked about a temple or a black lake, she pointed me into the forest and then ran off to her mother’s call. I waved at the pale elven woman. She did not return the gesture.

Knowing that it was time to move on, I climbed back onto Atriel, head high despite the shun. We rode into the forest, the shade cooler, and followed a deer path that wove through tall pines, leggy birch, and stoic red-bark beech. I spied birds, hares, and a shy, tawny fox. The air here was pure. I could feel its effects on me. Soothing and regenerative. The woods spoke to my people as a mother does her children. With love.

We broke from the trees into a glade where a domed stone temple stood, its walls and roof covered with moss and flowering vines. My heart soared at the sight of Danubia, carved from a white oak, standing with her arms open, flowers thick at the base of her carved likeness. It had been so long since I’d seen my goddess other than the small replica I carried that it brought tears to my eyes. I dismounted, letting Atriel graze on the lush grass. Danubia would not mind. Nin flew overhead, cackling down at me, his call one of mild curiosity.

I moved to the statue, dropped to my knees, and rested my forehead on the ground.

“Glorious Danubia,

Judge my actions with your splendor and grace as I serve you,

Hold tight my hand and my heart while I stand guard in your name and your service,

So that I may bask in your approval as the forest sings your praise.”

Her reply was the song of the grouse, the rustle of the leaves, and the metallic scent of water on the wind. I sat for a moment in supplication, drinking in the healing touch of this place. Truly, if I could tend a temple such as this one like the doddering archdruid that I had come here to fetch did, I would spend the rest of my days in happiness. Nin flew down to hop along beside me, his clever eyes watching. I noted the lack of a missive on his leg as I stood and entered the temple. It was a simple one as all of those to Danubia were. We were not the city elves. Our goddess did not require white marble or gold-encrusted chalices. Our goddess asked only that you love and serve her by tending to her children.

Shade filled the temple. I stepped inside. In the center of the round room was a spring that burbled out of a stone fountain, the crystal clear water bubbling up around the feet of a large deer with antlers wide and thick. In the beast’s wide chest sat a fat blue gem, pulsing with magical powers. Ah, so this was a temple tended by druids of the Cervus clan who could shift into an elk. Danubia had blessed our people with the knowledge of how to change our bodies into four of her blessed beasts. Elk, bear, panther, and eagle. Cervus, Ursus, Felis, and Aquila.

Each form was available to each druid, but it took hundreds of years of intense study to master. All children of the woods choose the path they wish to learn, or they may choose to become learned in other fields such as healing, earth prowess, or tending to a grove of Danubia exclusively. Most generally, the extremely old druids took care of the temples of their chosen genus as it was easy work.

This temple was clean, filled with offerings at the base of the fountain, and airy. To the sides were benches carved from fallen trees where one could sit and meditate. Small stubby candles sat in low bowls whittled from wood and behind thefountain was a roughhewn bed, a small desk and chair, and a wardrobe crafted from yellow ash that glowed like the sun.

No sight of the elderly archdruid who lived here, though. I left the temple, Nin in the trees now cawing at me with vigor. I followed the bird as he took to wing, walking a worn path through the woods to the edge of an oval lake filled with water as black as Nin’s feathers.

I skidded to a halt when my eyes touched on the back of a man with chestnut hair lounging in the ebony waters. His head craned around. I locked my gaze with eyes as blue as the eggs found in a jay’s nest. He rose out of the water. My eyes flared as he turned to face me, his body slick with water that ran over a barrel chest covered with reddish-brown hair. I’d never seen a man so well made. His legs and arms were thick with muscle, his shoulders as wide as a castle doorway, and his cock, even flaccid as it was now, hung down the inside of his thigh. My mouth went dry as he strode from the lake, a smile now breaking out on his handsome face. A face that, while lived in, was striking. He bore a small scar on his chin, but that only added to his appeal in my eyes.

“Ah, you must be the envoy from the city, Kenton, yes?” His voice was deep as thunder. My eyes darted from his mouth to his ears. Pointed, but just so not full elf. His skin was pale as well, but thickly furred, which most elven kind were not. He was far too tall to carry dwarven blood in that statured body, so my assumption was he was half-elf and half-human. A mixing that took place quite often in the vills where the humans lived close to the elves.

“I am yes,” I managed to squeak out all too aware of how this man was making my cock swell in my trousers. I’d thought the juggler had been a fine-looking man, and he had been, but he was nothing in comparison to this male. I longed to run my fingers through his hair to work out the tangles as he tucked meclose to his wide chest. “I seek the archdruid Beirach Dreyath as requested by Umeris Stillcloud.”

His celestial blue eyes dipped to the pin on my shirt collar. “Yes, the raven said you would wear the brooch bearing his family crest.”

He seemed unabashed of his nudity, a trait among shifters. They grew used to being in fur or feather, according to my father, who was an Ursus shifter. Also, they shredded their trousers while transforming, so nudity seemed more prudent. Adding to that, the majority of the children of the woods lived as nature intended most of the time. The confines of stately cloaks, breeches, or even a simple dress was unneeded in the summer season.

Truly, I had been in the city for too long judging by my reaction to seeing a bared man. But by the gentle heart of the goddess, this was no mere naked man. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

“If you could direct me to the archdruid…” I said while shifting from one foot to the other in hopes of hiding the stiffness in my pants.

“You are looking at him,” the man said, water droplets running down his chest to tease his stiff cinnamon nipples. I longed to flick that water from the tight nub with my tongue as he—

My sight flew from his chest to his smiling eyes. Thick red-brown lashes framed his eyes. Eyes that a man could tumble into like a forest pond and lounge in forever.

“You’re…”

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