Sorceress

Chapter 23:

Shaking with tears, I lie Una back on the ground, perform the burial ritual, and place a dagger in her hand. She was fierce in life, and will no doubt be fierce in death. I think that I knew all along that she wouldn't survive the severe wounds dealt to her; my magic is not capable of defeating death. I gradually get to my feet, and saying my final goodbye to Una, I start to make my way across the slope downwards that I emerged out onto, after my exit to the forest. An image of Viking archers appearing through the trees behinds me, and shooting me in the back, shocks me out of my reverie, and I begin to run as fast as I can towards the forest on the slope of the hill in front of me. As I push my fatigued body to the limit, I stumble more than once on the cracked rock, before remembering Una's face as she died, which causes me to push myself off the ground, and continue a little bit faster than before. I stop for breaks when I come across a sparse bush, regaining my breath, before my fear of the Vikings pushes me onward. 

As darkness begins to sweep across the valley, I make it to the brink of the forest. Tomorrow, I will continue through the forest, until it breaks out onto the next hill, but for the meantime, I need to sleep, and rest. After finishing my gourd of water, and eating some edible flowers and plants, I climb a sturdy tree, and nestle in between its branches, collapsing into a fit of sleep.

A sharp rustling sound wakes me up, and I groggily open my eyes, blinking under harsh light. A shard of moonlight cuts through the forest layers, coming to rest on a circular set of stones. The stones are ancient, covered in moss, and hewn into the rock are old and almost indistinguishable witch patterns. In shock, I watch as a man steps out from the shadows of the trees, into the circle of lilac moonlight. I knew that the South still lived in the golden days of the Celts, but nothing prepared me for all the folktales to be true: The man is one of the faeries, I can see that for sure; his torso shows only bones, ripped and dirty ribbons are threaded through his rib cage. His face is pointed and elfish, his ears also, and his hair shimmers down his back in a waterfall of silver. He wears an elaborate torc around his neck, and various bangles adorn his arms. "Hello, Aine," he turns to me, pale ice blue eyes piercing through the light, "Welcome, Sorceress," 

"Greetings, faerie," I muster as a response, before slowly clambering down the tree. 

"My name is Finn, and my father wishes to meet you. Come, the sidhe are awaiting you," my choice about whether to come or not seems to have been decided for me. Finn extends a claw like hand to me, and grinning like a cat, he steps closer to me. A hawk suddenly flies down onto my shoulder- I recognize this as the hawk that has helped me before, I stroke his feathers, grateful for his help, before he flies away, and I take Finn's hand.