The Draoi

Prologue

The draoi. The irish warlock. Many said it was a difficult journey to find him, others said it was as easy as wandering around the woods until you came upon his cabin. The only consistency in their stories was that he always greeted them with enthusiasm. It seemed the warlock was lonely, and the reason they shared their stories at all was per his request. He wished more people would visit him, 'just like the old days' he would say. It seemed he had lived for many decades, yet they always spoke of how young he looked. The only tell of his age were the gray hairs that peppered his otherwise thick brown hair. Alby, the oldest man in town spoke often of the draoi. He claimed to have known the warlock during his youth. He told the story to anyone who would listen, how he had gotten lost in the woods at the tender age of 5 and met the draoi in 1931.

-----

He felt a path open up, almost by magic. It had been hours since he had gotten lost and he was crying already. He collapsed in exhaustion just as he burst into a clearing.

"Oi! Little buddy..." The irish accent had been the last thing he heard before he closed his eyes.

--Time Skip--

"You okay there?"

He opened his tear-stained eyes to see a young man leaning over him.

"Who are you?" The young boy asked, wiping his eyes.

"Well, my name's Seán but you can call me Jack." The man said, smiling and propping his elbows on his knees, resting his chin in his palms.

Wary, Alby sat up and pulled his legs closer to him to realize he was laying in a cot.

"Yeah, ye nearly scared the living daylights outta me when ya collapsed in my garden. I brought ya in and patched ya up." Jack held out his hand and waved it lazily, a shimmer of green appearing around his graceful fingers.

"You're the draoi! The warlock of the woods!" Alby squealed in amazement.

Jack chuckled. "Yep. I suppose you hear a lot of stories about me?"

"My mum tells me you protect the town, but old Gus says you eat children to stay young."

Jack reared back his head, bursting into laughter. "That's rich, ain't that a fat load of- ahem. Well, Old Gus ain't got a clue about what he's talking about. Don't worry, little buddy. I won't eat ya."

Alby smiled and relaxed, only to be pulled out of the cot.

"Where're we goin?" He asked, in the process of being hoisted to sit on Jack's waist. He knew this position, his mum held him like this often.

"Home! We gotta getcha back home to yer mum, don't we?"

"But it took me hours just to get here! What if we get lost?" Alby said, squirming at the thought of going back into the dense forest.

"Don't worry yer head about it. The forest'll make us a path." Jack reassured, already trekking into the woods.

"How?"

"If yer good to nature, nature's good to you. Never forget that, little buddy. What's yer name, by the way?"

"Alby."

"Well alright then Alby, wanna help me with some magic?"

"Do I ever!"

"Well alright then, on 3, shout that you love nature as loud as you can, ready?"

"Mhm."

"One." Jack held out his empty hand and had the spell on the tip of his tongue.

"Two." He breathed out the short spell in fluent irish and flicked his hand forward slightly, a shimmer of green floating down, already changed the shape of the forest ahead.

"Three."

"I LOVE NATURE!"

Alby giggled and looked forward, only now catching a glimpse of the path opening up for them. "It worked!" He grinned, looking back over at Jack.

"'Course it worked! I had a helper!" Jack ruffled the boy's hair.

-----

"He brought me back to my mum, tipped his grey cap, and off he went. I only saw him once again after that. A stroll in the woods when I was 12. Saw him tending to his garden. He hadn't aged a day since the last time I had saw 'im."

"But you definetely saw him do magic, right?"

"There is no doubt in my mind that he's the Warlock of the Woods. But I would hold off on going to find him. Them woods are hard to navigate, especially for an outsider. Here, let me get you a map."

By the time Alby had come back with a map in hand, the young man was gone. He shook his head, hoping his one warning had fallen on keen ears. He had tried many time over the years to find the draoi again, only to get lost. He left to make a cup of tea.

As Mark left the shop, he knew he would heed no such warnings.