Vaer aén Birke - The Witcher

Under the foliage of Brokilone

Year 1275, Brokilone, Duén Canell

Sowing its golden rays in the black field of the night, the sun rises little by little in the serene sky and caresses the canopy of the mythical Brokilone. As the morning mists rise, the trees welcome the solar star with a slow and joyful muted sound, their silent song celebrating the departure of darkness and the return of the nourishing light. Among all the woodsingers, none emits a deeper, livelier vibration than the three embracing oaks in the center of Duén Canell, the capital of the Dryads. For centuries, the Great Tree has greeted the coming of morning in this way. For centuries it has been the home of Brokilone's noblest and most fervent protector.

Mussed in the hollow of the three trunks of the Great Tree, Eithné Silver-Eye, the last queen of the forest nymphs of the North, listens to the song of the forest as every morning for centuries. Sitting cross-legged, she lets the chants of the Great Tree and its brothers pass through her, bathed in this song without words. No one can understand the Dryads and their devotion to the forests unless they have felt this living wave vibrating deep within their being.

However, today, the queen of the Dryads struggles to let herself be invaded in the sylvan harmony, to immerse herself in this muted melody of fibers and leaves. Drawn features, tense body, she tries to relax and empty her mind in order to welcome the sylvan chorus in its fullness. Alas, her restless spirit does not leave her in peace. Today is the day.

Eithné remembers well the day when this strange Aen Seidhe arrived in Duén Canell, the Place of the Oak, Brokilone never forgets. Her daughters had let him through, the elves being allies and even friends to the Dryads, sharing their deep love for nature. She had been curious what a Scholar wanted of Brokilon. She had not been disappointed.

_Lady Eithné? Calls a hesitant voice, Are you up, my Lady?

Eithne gets up to leave, her hands mechanically smoothing the flyaways of her silver hair. Near the entrance to her home stands a young dryad with chlorophyll skin and honey-colored hair streaked with discreet black streaks. The girl dance from one foot to the other, her hands moving wildly, clutching and writhing. Her eyes look everywhere, scrutinizing the slightest detail like a doe that doesn't know whether to scamper off or not. When she notices the queen's nudity, her cheeks take on a darker hue and she looks away.

_A dryad always rises at dawn, Meiln, answers Eithné, Do you have something for me?

_Y... yes, my lady, hm, Lady... Fauve sent me to fetch you, she prepared a lunch for you near the tributary of the Vda. She... she said you would need it today...

Meanwhile, Eithné puts on a tunic, to the great relief of the young dryad, still unaccustomed to the liberated mores of the wood nymphs.

_ Yes, today is not a ordinary day, lead the way, Little Bee.

Fingering her hair, Meiln looks around before remembering that the nickname designates her. She rushes forward, quick and agile, the queen at her heels, through Duén Canell and out. For a human, the journey through thickets and high branches would be quickly exhausting, but dryads traverse the green maze as easily as a cobbled street. Meiln stops at a fork at the top of a large tree, no longer very sure of the road to follow. With a smile, Eithné steps forward to point her in the right direction, following the familiar, mystical hum of the forest. Meiln's green cheeks darken even more and she starts again. Finally, as the sun rises higher and higher in the celestial field, they arrive near a shallow river. On the bank and in the water are already several nymphs carrying out their own grooming under the supervision of sentries perched in the trees, watching for dangers lurking in the shade of the thickets. Among them are their cousins ​​with blue skin and webbed hands, the Naiads. On the rocks and low branches, the leprechauns, pot-bellied little elves, dance and play the cello, carefree and oblivious of where they are.