The Gate ⋈ A Stydia Story

[ 10 ] nemeton

The full moon light splayed across the void hospital room. There was no life to be found, except the vase of roses on her bedside that Stiles had brought earlier.

"They'll cheer up the room a bit," He had said, before giving her hand another squeeze and exiting the room. He was the last to leave out of all the pack.

Lydia sat up straight in her bed, eyes widened and the tubes connected to her arms giving an uncomfortable tug. She frowned, pulling the wires from her skin with a wince. The liquid from them spilled onto the floor, and she stepped right through it without a second glance as her feet shuffled to the window. The full moon shone low on the horizon through the glass, submerging her features in a blue haze. She blinked once, eyes glued to the great craters on the surface, before her fingertips found the edge of the window, and she pushed upwards.

There was a tree, just an arms length away from her hospital room. She swung both legs over the window ledge, unfazed by the fifteen-foot drop below her. She stretched out one leg and one arm, grasping onto a branch and leaping to the tree. Soon after, Lydia was down the trunk, and her toes felt the soft squish of green grass.

Moonlight shined through the woods in front of her, taunting like a predator. She stepped out, one shaking foot in front of the other, pain shooting from her chest to her limbs, but she didn't care to acknowledge it. Soon, her pace quickened, and she was running, trees passing her vision in a blur.

"A banshee est ululate, et stilla ad velum," The whispers bounced off the surrounding wood, finding its way to her ear. She kept on, feeling something inside her guiding her through the forest. Her body, clad only in a thin hospital gown, was shivering, yet a heat spread from her chest.

"Porta usque ad finem," She saw the cloaked figure of Ealga in the corner of her vision, weaving in and out of the trees. It was taunting her, guiding her through the forest with the prophecy Lydia has heard countless times before. 

As she ran, certain trees struck her brain with familiarity, but no way to tell when and where she had seen them before. The ground beneath her feet squished with sodden leaves, and she knew she had felt the same floor on her toes before.

"erit solutum et in fine exclamavit,"

Her grandmother appeared a little ways ahead, the Archaic Latin on her tongue. As Lydia passed her, she gave a small smile. "It is our fate, as banshees, to close the gate."

The voice followed her as she continued on, small cuts stinging her heels and toes. She tasted blood in her mouth, slowly dribbling down her chin and onto the stark white hospital gown. Lydia didn't dare to notice.

A light shined from inside the forest, glowing a light lilac that coated the trees in lavender. It was only a little ways away, and she felt her self being pulled towards the light now, forced to run faster than her feet could follow. The light grew brighter as she drew near, and Lydia finally broke into a clearing where the light was at its brightest.

"unde oportet quod mors," The final line resonated through the forest, brushing the pines and rustling the leaves, before all noise came to an eerie calm. Lydia, finally feeling in control of her body, gasped at what lay in the center of the clearing.

Where a once great and tall tree stood, was just a short stump, but it was so large that it could only be the nemeton. Her ancestors had lead her to the supernatural beacon.

Set into the heart of the stump was where the light was being emitted. She took a few cautious steps forward, clambering up onto the nemeton and towards the center, where she saw the stone of Aeval for herself, a Celtic knot carved jaggedly into the surface. Lydia knelt, reaching a shaking hand forward to touch the stone. It hummed in response to her fingers, and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot up her arm. When she drew her hand away, the tips of her fingers were glowing with the same energy the stone contained.