Surielle - 25th of Vangalot, yr. 144 AV
Three years had passed for Surielle, and she had blossomed, not only as a practicing Druid of Denev, but also as a woman. She bit back tears as she looked upon the Keltai village that had become more of a home than she ever had known. She was leaving upon the morning, but there was a difference from when she left Fernmag: she was leaving as a beloved member of the community and she would be missed.
The summer night's air was charged with energy. It was Denday, the one day of the month dedicated to Denev by the 'Divine calendar'. The Keltai felt differently, revering the earth mother every day out of the month, but they were never ones to pass up a chance to revel and celebrate in the name of their Titaness. As such, the village of Varanis was lit up with bonfires and alive with the dancing of men, women, and children.
Agnes had planned it this way: she had brought her instructions to a close, although Surielle knew that there was so much more that the elder could teach her. Surielle now wore an amulet with a red background and a golden scythe engraved upon it. An amulet identical to the one her mother Amara had worn when she left the village. Agnes had known Amara, and had told Surielle that she was strong in the druidic faith.
In the morning, Surielle would venture to the east to seek a group of druids called the Sisterhood of the Scythe. Agnes assured her that they could not only enhance her learning, but also they could assist her in finding her mother. Surielle hated to leave Varanis, but the desire to follow this quest burned within her breast.
"Care to dance, Surielle?" She was startled from her daydream by a man twice her age, extending his hand. It was Karn, the male 'elder' of the town, a handsome man with black hair that swept down past his shoulders. She smiled and accepted, grasping his hand.
He pulled her forward into a throng of Keltai, whisking her about with skill and surprising grace. She could sense others watching, as she was the guest of honor at this revel. Everyone knew she left on the morn, and many more would take their turns dancing with her. Karn held an interesting position: his female counterpart was Agnes' sister Nester, who was almost thirty years, his senior. Their decisions governed Varanis, and the odd pairing was the subject of many jokes behind doors. In all her dealings with Karn, she found him to be a capable leader and a gentleman.
"You will be quickly missed, little runaway," he said with a smile after their dance was finished. Many of the older men called her the runaway, recalling her entrance to the village.
"I am sad to go," she said," but it is my calling." He nodded in agreement, and his smile saddened a bit. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss upon her brow.
"You will find her, Surielle. I have no doubt. You walk in the grace of the earth mother."
She gave Karn a fierce hug before someone else could sweep her away for a dance. And she prayed that he was right.
* * *
2nd of Chander, yr. 144 AV
She wound her path across the broken land of Darakeene. The land was marked by numerous hills and long ravines that split the grassy soil. She took care while traveling, heeding Agnes' advice to be wary of titanspawn. The creatures were a true threat in the wilds, and even though she possessed a hint of power, she had no delusions that she could weather an assault.
As she neared a line of trees, she decided that it was a suitable time to follow another suggestion of Agnes'. She had the power to call an animal to be her companion, a bond strengthened by her druidic magic. She was nervous at the prospect, but she had grown lonely after leaving Varanis. A friend would be welcome.
After moving deeper into the forest, she pulled forth a number of twigs tied with holly leaves and spread them in a circle around where she stood. She seated herself at the base of a tree and began to meditate, invoking the words taught to her. This spell was untested - she believed it would work, but Agnes had told her to do it farther from the village. The majority of animals near Varanis were the adventurous squirrels that stole food when the villagers weren't looking. Surielle wondered with humor if she would call a squirrel anyhow. The magic didn't seem to discern which animal would come, only that one would. It could be a squirrel or an owl or anything else that made its home nearby.
She continued her meditation and chanting for an untold number of minutes. The sound of leaves rustling on the ground announced the arrival of something, hopefully the one she would choose as her companion. She opened her eyes, expecting something small and harmless.
Standing fifteen feet ahead of her was a white and grey furred wolf. It was easily as large as she was.
She felt the hairs on her arms rise, and for a second she was unsure of her power. Had this wolf happened upon her, hungry, or was this what Denev had brought to her? Clear blue eyes regarded her intently. Surielle slowly rose to her feet and smoothed her dress. She had to follow through with the spell and hope that she wasn't mistaken.
"I seek your friendship." She held her hands forward, with palms open.
She could immediately see into the thoughts of the wolf, knowing that it was a female. Foremost were a number of questions, mostly of who she was and how the wolf was able to understand her speech.
"Will you travel with me?"
Thoughts of travel through the wild, and deeper images of a litter of wolf cubs imposed themselves on Surielle's vision. Images followed of the cubs slaughtered, killed by other wolves. Finally there were images of bloody combat, a feeling of mourning, and of a journey to distance herself from that place.
"I seek my mother," Surielle added, chancing a reaction. The wolf sniffed deeply of the air, judging Surielle. After a minute, she could sense the wolf's acceptance of the offer, seeing an image of the two of them walking as equals.
"What is your name?" The wolf struggled for a moment, and rapid images flickered across Surielle's vision. She puzzled through this for a moment, realizing that the wolf was known as the Taste-of-Frozen-Snow-From-Spring's-First-Thaw. Surielle said this over in her head a few times.
"May I call you Snowmelt?" She wasn't sure, but the wolf seemed to smile, and moved forward to allow her to stroke her ears. Yes, apparently Snowmelt would be a fine name.
