"Tabitha, I've missed you so much!” Rigel's voice, a storm of emotions, carried through the air as she threw herself into the comforting embrace of her long-missed mentor. Her slight frame shook, her voice trembling as sobs mingled with tears of joy. "Promise me you won't leave for so long again! We really missed you.” Rigel pleaded, her hands clutching at Tabitha in a desperate bid to anchor her to this moment.
A sharp pang of guilt pierced Tabitha’s heart, evoked by the fervency of Rigel's embrace and the dampness on her cheeks—a silent witness to the sorrow born from her absence. "And I, too, have deeply missed you, darling. My avuh…" she whispered, bending low—nearly in half— to wrap the girl in her arms, her voice infused with a tone of regret. "You have blossomed so beautifully, become such a radiant young woman..." Tabitha murmured, her broad palm tenderly caressing Rigel's cheek.
Their embrace seemed to tether them to each other momentarily, until Rigel stepped back slightly, a shadow of concern flitting across her face. "Tabitha, when will tío Diurnix come?" the girl asked, her voice weaving together threads of hope and anxiety. "Oh, my girl, Adon Diurnix is bound by celestial duties unfathomable to us, yet he has sworn to return by the dawn of the festival." Tabitha reassured her, gently wiping the remnants of tears from the girl's cheeks. A flicker of disappointment shadowed Rigel's features, revealing the weight of many such waits, yet she managed a feigned smile, an artful guise to veil her unease. "It’s fine… I’ll be waiting."
Rigel's eyes, previously shadowed by a hint of melancholy, now sparkled with awe as they fixed upon the amulet at Tabitha's neck. Reading the silent plea in Rigel’s gaze, Tabitha sighed and relented. "Take it, you little rascal," she teased, unfastening the amulet and placing it into Rigel’s eager hands. Bestowed by Diurnix, this amulet was no mere trinket but a conduit of immense power, a sacred relic ordinarily beyond the reach of mortals. Yet, in Rigel’s grasp, it seemed to have found its rightful place. As she pressed the amulet to her cheek, her face was framed by a smile brimming with boundless affection. "It’s so warm…" Rigel murmured softly.
From a distance, Raquel watched with a countenance woven from sorrow and a flicker of remorse, as her daughter communed with the celestial token. Tabitha, catching Raquel’s intent gaze, beckoned her closer with a nod. The shadows of anxiety that had marred Raquel's features dissolved into a mischievous grin as she approached, her steps deliberate. Once within reach, Tabitha offered her hand, but Raquel’s jest cut through the solemnity of the moment. "Tabitha, mi amor, what's with that space between your eyes? Are you trying to fit in all your wisdom, or are they just playing hide-and-seek?"
These words, sharp yet playful, coaxed Tabitha to her full, formidable height. "Dare to utter such folly again at your peril!" She retorted, her voice a deep rumble. Yet, in the daunting shadow of the druidess, Raquel stood unyielded, her smirk a silent challenge to the austere forest sentinel before her.
As this feigned war reached its zenith, the underbrush whispered its secrets, parting gently to reveal a young druid boy. His head was crowned with sprawling antlers, alive with the stirrings of small creatures; a bird had made its nest among them as though they were but branches of an old, welcoming tree. Both Raquel and Tabitha, reaching an unspoken agreement, shifted their attention to the newcomer, their interplay of jest and sternness fading into the backdrop.
"Leaf, my boy, do not wander far from me!” Tabitha's voice carried across the clearing, stern but softened by motherly affection as she used his tender nickname. The boy, his eyes as deep and venerable as the old growth around them, dipped his head in a gesture of contrition, resembling a sapling yielding to the weight of the first snow.
The boy's guilty glance swiftly gave way to a flush of embarrassment as Rigel’s voice rang out, warm and welcoming. “Daniel!” she cried out, her arms sweeping around him in a broad embrace, her voice ringing with warmth. The young druid, though, stood as stiff as the sentinel trees surrounding them, his return embrace tentative and reserved. “Look at you!” Rigel exclaimed, her tone laced with wonder. “In just two years, you've grown up so much—soon you'll be as tall and strong as your papa," she observed, her gaze lingering on the young druid who had just seen his sixth winter. Not long ago, he was merely a babe cradled in her arms, and now he nearly matched her in height.
Raquel's face was a mirror of Rigel's astonishment as she watched the young druid. "Hola, Daniel," she said gently, her voice attempting to bridge the distance his shyness created. He gave a timid nod, reassured by his mother's encouraging look. "Unia be with you," he responded formally, his restrained tone drawing a faint frown from Raquel.
"I am Raquel, and this is my daughter, Rigel. Do you remember us?" Raquel inquired, her voice a gentle murmur. Daniel’s eyes moved between them, finally resting on Rigel, his eyes widened in a flash of epiphany as he affirmed, "Indeed, I remember Rigel!"
Raquel’s face mimed playful indignation. "And have you forgotten about me, honey?" she teased, her brows arching in feigned offense. His eyes dropped to the ground, the harbinger of an apology about to take flight. Before he could voice his remorse, Raquel enveloped him in an embrace, lifting him with an ease that belied her feminine form. "You've known my hugs since you were a baby, and if you've forgotten me…." she proclaimed, her laughter filled the air as she peppered his face with affectionate kisses. "I just need to kiss you until you remember me again!" She exclaimed, attacking the little druid’s cheeks and forehead with her lips. Daniel, enveloped in her affection, chuckled, shedding his initial reserve as easily as leaves in autumn.
Tabitha watched the joyful reunion, a smile gracing her lips. 'Raquel, your charm entwines as seamlessly as ivy on an ancient oak,' she reflected silently, admiration momentarily softening her gaze. However, her thoughts soon darkened with a flicker of irritation. "May he have his papá's strong will, not his mamá's stormy temper," Raquel declared aloud, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she playfully challenged Tabitha.
"And where's Baruch, eh? Did you lose your husband somewhere, Tabitha?" Raquel’s voice now carried a hint of concern. Daniel, his tone reflecting a touch of melancholy, replied, "Abba helps the animals in the forest." Tabitha nodded in confirmation, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Baruch noticed that the beasts are behaving oddly and has gone to investigate," she confided, as if sharing a delicate secret. "We arrived some time ago but stayed quiet to handle some urgent matters."
Raquel's face creased with worry for both Tabitha and Baruch, and her own discomfort was evident as she shifted Daniel's weight in her arms. "You both must be exhausted," she remarked, her voice tinged with concern. Tabitha, her face showing signs of fatigue yet breaking into a gentle smile, reassured her, "It’s alright; we've grown used to it, my chaver."
"The festival is starting soon. Are you coming?" Rigel’s voice rose, her eyes beseechingly fixed on Tabitha. "I’ve missed you so much, but there’s still work to be done. I can't leave yet." Tabitha admitted, her gaze lingering on Daniel, whose face bore the imprint of parting's sorrow. "Take Leaf with you; I am nearly finished here and will follow soon," she proposed, a complex weave of contentment and a tinge of envy coloring her tone as she observed the joyful connection between her son and Raquel. ‘Maybe little Leaf is just tired of me,’ she mused silently.
"You'll make it back before midnight, ¿verdad?" Rigel's voice carried the weight of a plea more than a question. "Assuredly," Tabitha replied, her voice deep and unwavering, dispelling any shadow of doubt.
Raquel nodded, her expression painted with contentment but underlined by a faint trace of struggle, while her arms, strained under the growing weight of Daniel, began to tremble slightly. With a reluctant smile, she gently set Daniel on the verdant earth. Her hands lingered on him a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to release him, her eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and pride. She stepped back, allowing him the space to stand on his own, her actions acknowledging the inexorable passage of time that had shaped him so distinctly from the youths of a human child.
Taking Daniel's hand with a mother's gentle firmness, Raquel turned to Rigel. The young girl, with reverence, returned the amulet to Tabitha, then taking Daniel's other hand, shared a warm smile with her mother. "¡Vamos rápido! Let's hurry!" Raquel urged, her voice resonating with the anticipatory hum of festivity. "We need to get ready if we want the fiesta to shine tonight!"
Daniel’s face lit with the glow of youthful enthusiasm as he exclaimed, "Hurray!" The trio advanced, their spirits lifted by the imminent celebration, irresistibly drawn towards the heart of the settlement where the night's festivities were about to unfold in all their vibrant splendor.
Tabitha, poised to rejoin her tasks, caught a snippet of conversation that sliced through her focus. "Daniel, have you ever tasted a fresh catch of the hunt?" The notion, starkly at odds with the druidic reverence for all living beings, ignited a storm within her. "Raquel, dare you tread this path!" She began, her voice swelling with a rising tempest. But her reproach was swiftly cut by Raquel's laughter, clear and genuine.
"Ah, she weaves her mischief anew," Tabitha acknowledged inwardly. When the laughter ebbed, Raquel turned towards the druidess, her expression suffused with sincere affection, "It's so good to have you back, Tabitha," she declared, hastening her pace in embarrassment. Had Raquel paused, she might have glimpsed the subtle smile that brushed Tabitha’s lips.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
