The griffon’s deafening screech resounded off the cliffs of North Karana like thunder.  Black-clawed talons ripped into the earth as the creature landed with a billowing thud, its fierce eyes keenly intent on its prey.  Crouching low, it thrust forward sharply as would a snake, hoping to catch its adversary off-balance.

The silvery arc of a scimitar blade barred its course, opening a gash in the griffin’s left cheek.  The stain of blood marred its feathery complexion – further angering the beast, but accomplishing little else.  Enraged, the griffin took a blind swipe at its accoster.

Faun ducked low, avoiding the razor-sharp claws overhead.  Panting heavily, the druid reached out her other hand to cast the spell that would surely make this battle a decisive one.  On command, resilient green roots slithered forth from underfoot in a twisting mass.  The tentacles twisted themselves around the griffon’s legs, effectively ensnaring it to the ground.

Without any other viable recourse, the creature lashed out again with its beak – a telling blow that sent the druid careening backwards into a tree.  The air left Faun’s lungs in a rush, leaving her to gasp for breath as she scrambled to retain her footing.  Using her weapon as a crutch, she attempted to place the tree between herself and the beset creature, only to slip and fall on one knee.

This was the opening the griffon had been waiting for.  Without hesitation, the beast opened its mouth wide to snap the infuriating Elf in two with one quick stroke, when a sharp pain shot through its flank.  Turning about, the image of another attacker wielding a bow passed into view just before another arrow lodged itself into the griffon’s shoulder.

Encumbered as it was, the griffon could never hope to bridge the gap between itself and the newfound menace.  Frantically, the griffon struggled against the ensnaring roots, using its sharp beak in an attempt to break free. 

Arrows flew, each one adding to the creature’s panicked efforts.  After a moment’s struggle, the last of the roots finally gave way and the griffon took flight.  Once again in its element, the creature gained altitude in a hearty rush of wind from its powerful wings, quickly outdistancing the arrows.  Another screeching cry escaped its maw as it made its retreat toward the rocky hills to the north.

Rather than pursue, the ranger lowered her weapon and ran to the druid’s aid.  Faun rested on all fours, her head hung low as her shoulders heaved with fits of coughing.

“Not too fast,” the ranger ministered, setting her bow down in the grass.  “Small, controlled breaths.  That’s it, slowly.”

Gasps, almost like sobs, came from the druid’s chest as she fought to regain her wind.  The occasional cough sullied her efforts, causing her to cover her mouth with the backside of a gloved hand.

“I’ll be all right, Tish,” she croaked, turning to sit back against the tree trunk, arms folded across her middle.  “That last blow just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Tishalulle took in the druid’s appearance, noting the scrapes and scratches marring her friend’s usually winsome features. 

The ranger gave Faun a searching look.  “You’ll be all right…” she repeated dubiously.

Faun coughed softly and nodded, her head resting back against the tree, eyes closed.

“You’re really going to be all right?”

“I’m fine,” the druid replied testily.  “And what are you doing out here, anyway?”

“Keeping an eye on you.” Moving closer, the ranger inspected her friend’s wounds more closely.  “Something told me you weren’t going to stay put, even after Lorr made you swear not to go out hunting alone.”

“Lorr can stash it where-“

“That’s why I decided to come track you down,” the ranger interrupted, removing her own gloves.  “I knew nothing short of tying you up would keep you in check.”

Faun’s eyes opened a crack to look at the ranger. 

“Believe me, it’s something I’ve given a lot of thought to,” Tishalulle added with a smirk.  Placing a gentle hand against the druid’s bleeding cheek, the ranger whispered several words of healing.  “Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?”

“What are you talking about?  I’ve taken down griffons before plenty of times.”

“Ever since you learned about your condition, you’ve been pushing yourself harder and harder, sometimes beyond your limits,” the ranger argued.  “It’s like you’re trying to prove something to the rest of us.  What’s up with that?”

Faun rolled her eyes before closing them again.  “It’s compensation for you guys telling me to take it easy all the time.  I keep telling you, I’m fine.”

“Don’t hand me that, girl.  You said it yourself, you’ve taken down griffons before.” The ranger gestured off in the distance where the griffon disappeared.  “What was all that about?  If I hadn’t shown up, you’d be dinner right now.”

“I would not,” the druid retorted, arms still folded.  “One more spell, and I’d have had it on the run.  I just stumbled a little.  It’s common.”

“Is it common to be flagging after a fifty yard run?”

“Sprint.  He was faster than usual,” Faun coughed.

“And that’s another thing.  I don’t like that cough you’ve developed.”

“I just had the wind knocked out of me!”

“What about this?” Tishalulle reached out and grabbed Faun’s arm, pulling her hand out from its hidden position.  The back of the druid’s glove shown red with the wet stain of fresh blood.  “What is this?  I know it’s not from the griffon.  It hardly bled!”

Scowling, Faun yanked her arm away without a word, leaving the ranger to let her own hand slowly fall to her lap.  Tishalulle sat and stared her friend a moment in the calm before speaking.

“You’re sick, Faun,” she said quietly.

“No, I’m not,” the druid muttered, looking away.

“You’re sick and it’s finally catching up with you,” Tishalulle insisted, her tone still measured.  “You have to admit it to yourself.”

“I said no!”

“If you don’t stop this, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Shut up…” Faun whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

Slowly, realization dawned on the ranger’s face.  Realization turned into shock, as the druid’s true motives suddenly became plainly clear to her.

“Sweet Karana, that’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” Tishalulle breathed.  “You haven’t been trying to prove anything – you’ve been trying to kill yourself!”

Faun closed her eyes silently, forcing a tear to spill down her cheek.

“I don’t believe it,” the ranger continued.  “All the bravado of taking on the world, all the power plays, all the attitude… it’s all been a sham!  You figure if you have to go, why not go down in a blaze of glory?  Am I right?  I am, aren’t I!”

Shaking her head back and forth frantically, Faun buried her face in her hands.

“Of all the selfish, cowardly things I’ve ever seen in this life, I have never seen anything so senseless and cruel!” Tishalulle thundered.  “What did you think this little escape of yours would do to us, huh?  To your friends!  Or how about me?  Did you stop to think what your untimely demise would mean?  I at least deserve the right to say goodbye-…” The ranger’s words were cut off, her voice constricting.

The druid’s shoulders were heaving silently, her face still buried in her palms behind knees drawn up before her.

Once Tishalulle recovered her voice, she continued.  “You owe it to us to stay breathing for as long as you can.  The fight isn’t over until it’s over, and we are going to fight this to the end, do you hear me?  There is a cure for this somewhere, Faun.  I believe it with all my heart!  Don’t you dare give up on this battle before it begins!  If you do, I’ll never forgive you!  Ever!”

“I’m sorry!” Faun squealed, breaking out and throwing her arms around the ranger.  “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Tishalulle took up her friend in her arms, holding the weeping girl close.  Patting her gently on the pack, she whispered, “It’s all right.  It’s okay, now.  Nothing happened.”

“I’m just so scared, Tish,” the druid pleaded between gasps.

“I know,” the ranger reassured.  “It’s all right.  We can face this together.  We can.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Faun shook her head and drew back from their embrace to hold her friend’s forearms tightly.  “They’re speaking to me in my sleep.”

“What do you mean?” Tishalulle asked, perplexed.

“They’re thanking me!” the small druid cried.  “Every night, I hear them.  They grow louder and stronger while I get weaker by the day.  The bastards are thanking me for my strength, taunting me like some helpless animal in their cage!”

“Wait, wait…” the ranger said, confused.  “What are you talking about?  Who is doing this to you?”

“I don’t know!” Faun shook her head.  “They’re just voices.  I don’t even know if they’re real, or if I’m losing my mind!  All they talk about is the coming end, describing in detail all the awful things that are going to happen to me before I finally die.  The growing pain, the consumption, the wasting away of muscle and bone until finally I’m too weak to even inhale.”

Tishalulle stared at the druid, astounded.  “That’s… that’s ghastly!”

“That’s not the worst part,” Faun continued, swallowing.  As she spoke, her voice grew increasingly desperate.  “They say after I die, I’ll find no solace with Tunare.  They say the goddess has forsaken me, because of my life and the way I’ve lived it.”

“No,” Tishalulle shook her head vehemently.  “No, that’s not true, hon. That’s simply not true!”

“It is true, Tish,” Faun whispered, placing one hand on the ranger’s shoulder.  “You don’t know what kind of life I led before becoming a Guardian.  Long ago, I turned my back on the precepts Tunare would have me live by.” Ignoring her friend’s obvious skepticism, the druid became vehement.  “I deliberately and pre-meditatively broke one of the most sacred of Her divine teachings.  Do you hear what I’m telling you?  I have taken a life in cold blood, Tish.  What’s worse is that it was the most sacred and defenseless life in this world.”

The ranger blinked.

“I took the life… of my own child,” the druid confessed.

Horror washed over the Tishalulle’s features, her mind reeling from her friend’s words.  Though she knew she must take them at face value, her mind couldn’t conceive the reality of what she was being told.  Lacking any suitable words, she merely shook her head slowly back and forth.

“It’s the truth,” Faun said simply.

“Why?” was all the ranger could ask.

“You know the lifestyle I’ve led,” Faun said, her face smoothing over.  “It started in my youth.  I chose my ways, made my decisions and I enjoyed them to their fullest.  It didn’t matter to me what could possibly happen, and so I blinded myself to it – consequences be damned.  At least, that’s what I thought until the consequences came around to collect their due.

“I was young… far too young,” the druid continued.  “I wasn’t ready, I couldn’t handle it, I was frightened – a dozen reasons came and went through my mind why it shouldn’t be.  So, ignoring the one reason why it should, I went to the local herbalist and I ended it.  I ended it before it had a chance to even truly begin.” She paused to take a small swipe at her nose.  “And now you really have heard the most senseless and cruel thing ever.”

Sighing, Tishalulle took her friend’s hands in a consoling grip.

“Tunare,” Faun said, her voice taking on a mockingly grandiose tone, “Mother of All and giver of life to this world saw fit to punish me by robbing me of that gift.  Now I can’t have any children, and I never will.  She’s turned Her back on me, and so I’ve done the same to Her.  And here I am, a damned soul about to receive my last judgment.”

“You don’t know that.” Wringing the druid’s hands in her own, Tishalulle didn’t look up as she spoke.

“I know enough,” Faun countered.  “My destiny isn’t with Tunare.  I think She’s made that clear enough.”

“Sweetie, unless Tunare has come to you personally and said those exact words, I wouldn’t give up on destiny.  I really wouldn’t.”

The druid shook her head, refusing any such consolation.

“Besides, it’s a useless argument,” Tishalulle said curtly.  “You’re not going to die.  At least, not anytime soon.  We’ll beat this thing one way or another.  I promise you we will.”

Faun raised her head to look her friend squarely in the eyes for the first time since starting her tale.  Instead of recrimination and loathing, she found only love and support – things she never thought she’d be able to find from anyone who would know the truth about her past.  It amazed the Wood Elf to discover it there, when she’d fully expected the same abandonment she had received from her goddess.

“Just don’t go gallivanting off to slay Nagafen or anything by yourself, or I swear I’ll strangle you with my own two hands!” the ranger said, her expression overly stern.

Faun laughed, unable to keep a straight face.  “I won’t.”

Tishalulle held up her index finger, eyebrows raised.

Faun rolled her eyes.  “I promise, I won’t!”

Satisfied, the ranger nodded and took her friend in one last embrace before they began the journey home.

Part III

Back to Stories