The Wandering Warlock

Chapter 5: Pact

It takes fifteen years, but the Archfey finally succeed in summoning Ava. Whimsical creatures of legends, known to protect the hidden realms of the Feywild, the Archfey had eyes on her since the night she was first brought into the North Woods: the starborn child with healing hands and a radiant soul. They knew that with some guidance, they could channel her drive and mischief into more... practical ends. She would make a powerful Guardian of the Feywild. The only trouble was that persistent crystal of freedom nestled in her heart...

The Archfey frequently extended offerings to Ava, little bits of blue calling her forwards, calling her onwards. Though determined to follow, she had still been quite young and her celestial heritage was only a soothing glow. They needed her to grow further into her powers before becoming a Guardian, for a stronger Warlock keeps a stronger promise. But she had never quite been ready.

And so their blue offerings continued to tease her, beckon to her, push her to reach just a little bit further, so that on the night they finally met, she would be ready.

                                                          ❄ ❄ ❄

Ava makes her way home through the dimming forest.

Paco had come to retrieve her as the sun began to set. He bounds through a shallow layer of fresh snow, leaving tiny tracks that Ava follows quietly.

For the most part she is lost in thought, but in her peripheral vision Ava catches something blue... she turns to spot a blue butterfly. It is an odd time for butterflies to be active, what with the light snow coming down. This butterfly is unusually bright, shedding a dim blue glow. It flutters away from her, down a darkened thicket. There, it is mysteriously joined by another pair of blue wings. And another. And another until a fluttering cloud forms. Ava unconsciously takes a step towards the fluttering cloud, peering beneath a low pine bough blocking her path. Blue lights play across her dark eyes. Paco bares his small teeth at the butterflies, though he is not as menacing as he thinks.

Ava peers sidelong at Paco for a moment, weighing the likely ferocity of his protest against that deep, nagging pull she feels... She glances back towards the retreating butterflies...

"I'll be right back," she whispers before briskly pushing the branch aside to stride through the thicket after the blue wings. A collection of snow dumps off the branch as she passes, engulfing Paco under a heap of powder. He squeaks indignantly, burrowing himself free before following in her wake.

Ava moves faster, starting to duck and hop her way through the tangle of roots and branches. The thicket's thorny arms reach for her, brambles catching on her blue traveling cloak as if they too hope to wrap themselves in threads of starlight. Ava disregards a few scrapes and snags because the butterflies are still just ahead, still just out of her reach. She will not lose them, not this time.

The thicket finally opens into a misty clearing at the edge of a crevasse. A river has cut deep through the rock, wearing it down with rumbling rapids into a sprawling ravine below. The butterflies have just flitted across the gap, unconcerned by the treacherous drop, when Ava arrives at the ravine's ledge. Her quickened breath mixes with the mist, churning light snowflakes before they drift down past her feet and into the gloomy rift.

The crevasse is far wider than Ava can jump and the rift stretches far in either direction. She clenches her fists and teeth in frustration and watches enviously as the butterflies ride a soft breeze over the open air. They begin to disappear into the misty wood on the opposite side of the ravine. Paco's frantic pawsteps are nearing behind her, but she is focused on the butterflies and her desire to see them. To follow them. To finally know where they lead. To finally know what they mean. Though the mist was soothing, Ava's eyes well with the intensity of her wish. It might have been a prayer.