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23: The Elder Draconian

**Back to Saiea's POV**

"What is it I've found? A Vyenn girl?" A raspy female voice calls from the shadows. 

My trembling body jumps. After my encounter with Master Synn, I ran for so long my legs collapsed beneath me. And I got up and kept running, even after that. 

I couldn't stop. I had to get away from everything. Him, my powers, my shame...

What have I done? What's happening to me?

I regret acting in a moment of weakness. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I can't understand why. And, now, as a stranger approaches, I realize how fearful I am to be around anyone else with these new powers surging through me.

I expected to be in the middle of nowhere, but...if there's a woman here, am I not? Have I run into a woodland village like my own?

Wheeling around, I face the source of the voice: An elderly woman so beautiful she brings a gasp to my lips. Her white hair falls down her shoulders in two long braids, her eyes flicker like the orange of the chrysallite, and her pure white translucent scaled skin shines beneath the moonlight.

She weaves her body through a gap in the trees. Her shoulders hunch forward and wrinkles around her mouth and crinkles at the corners of her eyes show hints that she must've often smiled in her youth.

"You're a long way from home." She lifts her arm to brush a bushel of fan-shaped leaves out of her path. "I thought the Vyenn lived all the way in the Eastern woodlands."

"Please, stay away!" I push my hands into the dirt, trying to keep my fingertips from spilling more magick. I don't know how to control the powers that the chrysallite bestowed upon me and I don't want this old woman to have the same fate as the animal that approached me.

Despite my warning, she doesn't leave. She doesn't even step back. She only glances over my form with curiosity. I know she can see the blueness flickering and splitting off from my fingertips, saturating the dirt with light.

Her silver brow cocks as her sunny eyes study me. "Even more intriguing. How did a Vyenn girl of your race get hold of Draconian magick?" 

I flinch, not wanting her to get any closer, and a bolt of lightning shoots her way. She raises her hand and bats it away as if it was a meddlesome Neyenfly. 

"Goodness. You certainly can't handle it at all. Get up." The old woman motions for me to follow her. I stare in awe at the tree beside us, smoldering with the magick she so effortlessly batted aside.

Who is this woman? My eyes settle on the shimmering scales decorating her skin, but her complexion is so light and the ivory horns peeking from her hair are woven with patterns or a language I can't understand. She carries all of the distinct features of a Draconian but in an entirely unique way.

IS she a Draconian? Does she have magick, too?

My curiosity lifts me to my feet and I trudge behind her through the forest. My legs still burst with pain every step. At least I can't hurt this woman. It's a relief to not have to worry about my magick putting her in danger.

We trek our way across the forest until we reach a grandiose cottage in the middle of the woods. Its four walls are made entirely of black ameryntheine, a shimmering and smooth gemstone, and its windows are sparkling crystal. 

It's gorgeous but leads me to believe that the old woman is intensely wealthy. Or, I raise an eyebrow at the blisters in the ground beneath the house, perhaps it was all crafted with magick.

Her clothing doesn't reflect the wealth of her house. She's dressed casually but not richly. Her hair is tied simply atop her shoulders. If she wasn't strikingly pretty for her old age, she might even come off as a wholly average peasant woman.

She giggles, breaking me from my daze and a bolt of lightning flies off my shoulder and strikes a nearby tree, crisping it. 

"I'm not used to anyone staring. Not at me or my home." The old woman pauses. "Good thing my house is made of stone or I might be worried about letting you in, seeing as you're leaking a bit of lightning."

She gently presses her hand against my back and the buzz of magick inside my body dissolves. My muscles and emotions relax as she steers me toward her door. I'm not used to so many regal homes. Fexen, Master Synn, and now this woman. They all have abodes that put to shame the living quarters back in my village. 

Is the rest of the land really that lavish compared to my old home?

For some reason, when I think the word "home," it isn't an image of my village that pops into my head. Instead, I see myself laying in bed beside Master Synn as he reads, feeling comfortable and safe under the covers. I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to get rid of that mental picture. That life is gone for me now. I need to let it go.

When we step inside the old woman's house, it's clear that the inside is not as nice as the outside. It's not that it's unregal, it's just messy. There are books, blankets, and antique objects scattered around. The whole interior smells musty.

She presses the door closed behind us. When I turn to look at her, she expectantly holds up her hands. "Hold out your hands above mine. Let me see them, girl." 

I hold out my hands and she gently grabs them, hovering over them like she's holding some sort of investigation. 

"Mm, looks like you've been messing with things you shouldn't have." She clicks her tongue, tracing her fingertip across my skin. And she plucks me with her fingernail, drawing blood.

"Ow!" I flinch and pull away. "Why did you do that?"

"Oh, just trust me, girl. It's the least you can do after your attempt to fry me with magick." She motions for me to return my hands to her. I do it reluctantly. The pricked area throbs and I worry she might pierce me further. She grips the part of my hand that she pricked, turning it toward the ground and holding a tiny flask beneath it. 

She collects three drops of my blood and seals the flask.