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SEVERAL WEEKS LATER I FOUND myself sat before the Tribe council, with my father at the helm, to discuss what’d transpired that fateful night. The Darkling worked on me for years, softly grooming me to allow him passage into our realm. Somehow, I’d tore a rift between worlds, yet I couldn’t recall how this had been possible.
‘The Arch Fey Queen has made her presence known to our Tribe once more,’ Dralaeq bellowed. ‘I never thought I’d see the day when this event would transpire. Our ancestors risked their lives so we might know freedom and now you’ve given her a means for history to repeat.’ He flung his finger at me, the Elders heads turned, their unkind glares like daggers into my heart. ‘And my son.’
My father couldn’t bear to look in my direction, his favourite child rested in the healing wing, barely clinging to life. I’d failed my people. My brother. His fate undecided by Wild Mother, his life laid in the balance. The Elder used their magic to cut him down from the Darkling’s tendrils, his body battered and bloodied from the attack. All to save me. I have prayed for his recovery every night since, but the earth refused to hold a conversation.
What a naive satyr I’d been.
The Elders discussed my fate amongst themselves, none of them willing to take me under their wing. I was a liability to my Tribe, despite holding the mantle as their prized Seer. Several of them suggested more rigorous training, others suggested I be isolated from the Tribe entirely, but banishment was a severe consequence and hadn’t been practised in decades. Unfortunately for them, they still needed me around. Only I could commune with the earth. I was still a child in their eyes, twelve years old with an incredible power I couldn’t control. They couldn’t allow me to leave our homeland until I’d mastered the basics.
‘Someone has to take her,’ an Elder called.
I kept my head down, my eyes trained to the floor. They treated me like a possession, not a child that needed a guardian. But I didn’t care what fate had in store for me, I’d do anything to stay in the village until I knew my brother recovered from his injuries.
A single Elder stood, and caught my attention. The woman who’d torn a rift between worlds, who returned the Darkling to the Summer Court. If it had to be anyone to raise me, I was glad it was her. She understood my plight, my struggle and had knowledge about the power we both possessed.
‘Chieftain Dralaeq, it would be my honour.’ Her words were soft, motherly almost.
My father glanced at her, then back to me before he drew breath and agreed. ‘I entrust Saria to you, Elder Sheatu. Don’t make me regret my decision, either of you.’
I gazed up at my new guardian, her wild fiery tresses were enthralling but cold mud orbs glared at me. They showed no kindness, just like the others and while I was in awe, she seemed to take me out of pity. Not another Elder stood to contest her, instead they mocked her.
‘You’re too young to care for this child.’
‘Her power cannot be contained, you’re risking your life for hers?’
Elder Sheatu hauled me up off the floor and stood her ground against her colleagues. ‘At least I am willing to take a chance to help her. It’s what Kelea would’ve wanted.’ She shouted, her voice projected through the hut.
The council gasped, my father considered his words but backed down. My mother’s name was sacred in our Tribe, never to be spoken by an ill tongue. A smirk curled on Sheatu’s lips.
‘If none among you has any objections, the Seer will remain in my care until she becomes of age,’ she said. Then those cold orbs were on me once more, ‘By then I hope she makes her own choice.’
For the first few weeks Elder Sheatu didn’t utter a word, our meals were shared in silence. Every morning she helped me dress in my Seer’s uniform; a plain lightweight dress and a crown of florals in my hair and stood watch while I communed with the Wild Mother. But my prayers continued to go ignored. Every morning I pruned the Mother Tree, removing weeds from its roots.
After a few months, tiny flora began sprouting through cracks in the trunk. Over the next year the little white and pinkish blooms had decorated the Mother Tree like a blanket. Elder Sheatu noticed the change, and while she still couldn’t make conversation with me, her grunts became more approving.
A year and a half passed before she’d agreed to train me properly. I awoke at sunrise one morning in spring. Elder Sheatu towered over me, and offered me breakfast while we discussed the contract of my training.
‘The other Elders would forbid me to teach you our ways,’ she said, and took my bowl when I hadn't finished the contents. ‘I believe the art of Druidcraft could help you control your abilities.’
Druidcraft.
‘It’s not a straight fix unfortunately, but under my guidance, your natural gift will no longer be a curse,’ she added. She washed our bowls and rummaged through her things.
Her home wasn’t the tidiest, but everything had its place, you only had to look past the mountains of dust that gathered amongst the shelves. I suppose it was partly my home now as well, or had been for the last year. My father never came to visit, nor did he relay information of my brother’s condition. None of the Elders from the council paid a visit to Sheatu either, the pair of us had been outcast by Tribe.
Probably terrified of the Arch Fey Queen.
After the Darkling’s arrival, the Wynduff Woodlands had gone into high alert. After our meeting, the council created new protective enchantments to line our homeland. They were concerned Titania knew their location, and while there was no imminent threat to our Tribe, they weren’t taking any chances.
The first day Elder Sheatu took me into the woodlands, I sat upon a log and watched as she pulled clumps of mud from the earth. She moulded them in the air into all manner of objects, a shield, a dagger and a sword. Simple parlour tricks she called them, yet I struggled to produce the materials. The woodland refused to assist my training, and over time I’d learnt to negotiate with it. My progress was slow, it took two months to successfully extract the mud and a further three to shape the earth as the Elder had. But not once did she praise me. Sheatu was a strict teacher, worse than the other Elders I’d spent my childhood training under. To her, failure was not an option and reminded me of my shortcomings almost daily.
Weeks faded into months, every morning I prayed to the Mother Tree and every afternoon till nightfall I trained under Sheatu watchful eyes. My skills extracting and shaping the earth weren’t perfect but I could craft the basic weaponry, should I ever find myself in a pinch. We repeated the same training but this time using water from the lake. I hated being near water after that ill-fated encounter with the Darkling. But Elder Sheatu forced me to push past the fear and shape the water to my benefit. This time it wasn’t just simply pulling weapons from water, but casting against the tide to create pathways and walking on water. There were several times I thought I might drown, but every time Sheatu hauled me out with a flick of her wrist. A gust of wind picked me up and dumped me at her feet. She never once looked up from her books, her affinity with the earth was what I hoped to achieve.
One night while we foraged for our meal, I asked the Elder to teach me her technique with air magic and while it took some persuading she finally agreed. The next morning we found an unoccupied clearing in the woods, Sheatu stood before me, her arms positioned at her sides. The wind picked up around me, and scooped up my master. She hovered in the air for several minutes, her legs crossed and her eyes closed, before gracefully dropping back to the ground.
Then Sheatu’s cold orbs were on me, a smirk appeared on her lips as she said, ‘Your turn.’
I positioned myself, just as she’d done and silently commanded the wind to pick me up. But the wind didn’t want to cooperate. It knocked me onto my arse every time. Anger now fueled my commands, no longer did I beg the earth to assist me. I forced it into submission. Unlike the months I’d spent shaping the earth and water, I found it easier to manipulate the air. When I asked Elder Sheatu about this, she claimed each satyr felt drawn to one single natural element and just like me, her affinity was with the earth and the air. She referred to it as a comfort and explained the affinity would aid in controlling my power.
Druidcraft was a practice taken from the earth by the Wild Mother and taught throughout our Tribe’s history by the Elders. An ancient art that harnessed the natural elements for protection rather than for battle. Everything I learnt from Elder Sheatu was for defence, to protect my homeland and myself from the impending return of Titania and her Summer Court. It was my sole duty as the Tribe’s Seer. A silent protector in the shadows.
After I came of age, Elder Sheatu refused to teach me further but yet still kept a watchful gaze as I trained. Now a young woman, I didn’t need a guardian, but I appreciated her company. I continued my duties; I dressed myself for prayer each morning communed with the Mother Tree. The voices slowly came back, but this time they were kind and gentle spirits. The true voice of the Wynduff Woodlands, the souls of my ancestors guided me forward. I never slipped on my training, my affinity grew and with it my confidence to command the four natural elements. Although fire proved to be the most difficult, even now after years of training, I still struggled to produce anything largely that an ember.
But despite how many years had passed, I still hadn’t spoken to my father, nor was I allowed to learn of my brother’s condition. Elder Sheatu refused to let it slide, and informed me he’d pulled through the Darkling’s hold, but just barely. The Wild Mother had allowed him to live.
The next morning I’d planned to thank Melora during my morning prayer, a day Sheatu refused to journey with me. When I arrived I was greeted by an ill omen. A foul stench filled the air, thick with decay and rot. Then I laid eyes on the roots, the trunk split through the middle. I dropped to my knees, the little flora I’d bloomed crushed beneath me.
‘Why,’ I begged the heavens. ‘Why must bad luck follow me?’
Then I heard them, the scurry of footfall approached. Not a second later, the Tribe Elders surrounded me and I knew in my heart this would be the last straw. I withdrew myself from the ground and turned to meet the disapproving glares of the Tribe Elders. My father hadn’t been amongst the ranks, nor my teacher, Sheatu. I was in this mess alone.
I was hauled off to sit before the council once more, yet I kicked and screamed my innocence the whole way. I sat before my father, for the first time in almost a decade, yet his emerald eyes showed me no mercy.
‘You leave me no choice, Saria,’ he bellowed before the council. ‘I hereby sentence you to banishment; for allowing the Darkling passage into our realm, for alerting the Arch Fey Queen of our presence and now you’ve destroyed the sacred grove of the Wild Mother.’
I hung my head in shame, I’d brought dishonour to my Tribe.
An Elder shuffled in their seat, ‘Have you a counter argument?’
I shook my head, I couldn’t deny what they’d seen. I’d spoken to the voices, I’d allowed the Darkling to groom me and tore a rift between worlds. Elder Sheatu may have told me to harness the natural elements, but what good had it done.
‘I accept my fate,’ I said as I lifted my head and stared my father down. ‘I’m not afraid.’
Chieftain Dralaeq didn’t smile at my remark. No one in the hall uttered a murmur. In a blink of an blink two satyrs from the White Stag Legion appeared, grabbed my arms and hauled me out. But this time I didn’t put up a fight, I let them take me back to the hut I shared with my teacher. Yet when I arrived, it was completely devoid of her presence. Elder Sheatu had abandoned me, just as the Tribe had a decade ago. The guards posted themselves outside and gave me only a few short moments to gather the basic provisions.
But what does one take when they’ve been banished?
I grabbed anything I could, little of it made much sense. I filled a simple leather satchel; a few crystals from my training, a storybook from my childhood, and rations to last me a week. Still adorning my Seer uniform, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and didn’t recognise the fawn staring back at me. My hair had grown to an uncomfortable length, my skin sun-weathered from my training.
Time to let go of the past.
I concentrated, finding little moisture in the air and formed a simple dagger. I summoned a wind to wield the weapon and sliced through my tresses. The braid dropped to the floor, my ombre curls were set free. With a quick change of clothes, and an adjustment to the floral crown on my brow, I was ready to leave. I slung the satchel over my shoulder and exited my home freely.
Elder Sheatu stood not a few steps ahead, a wooden crook in her hands.
‘Here, it was your mothers,’ she said and handed it to me. ‘I only wish Kelea could’ve given it to you herself.’ Then she disappeared, leaving a faint breeze in her wake.
The guards escorted me to the woodland barrier, the edge of the forest that met the outside realm. My father hadn’t spared a moment to say goodbye. When the guards backed up, I noted a familiar face in the clearing. Nolas stood before me, he’d his health and was able to walk yet his body was mauled by the Darkling’s tendrils. Deep set black scars down his left side. A reminder of that ill-fated night when he protected me.
‘Nolas,’ I said, tears streamed down my cheeks. I was relieved he was alive.
But he held an index to his lips, turned back and winked at the guards. The pair turned their backs and my brother enveloped me in a hug. I assumed they were friends of his, but I didn’t question their loyalty.
‘We don’t have much time,’ Nolas replied and pushed me away. ‘I only came to give you this.’ He took the sheath from his hip and held it out to me.
I glanced from his prized dagger back up to him and said, ‘I can’t, not after what I’ve done.’
But Nolas ignored my words, forced the weapon into my hand and closed it shut. He backed away from me and I found myself copying his steps in the opposite direction. Away from him and out of the Wynduff Woodlands. A faint voice called out.
‘Stay safe little snowdrop.’
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