The Exiled

Part 2

Laurence woke up to a magpie sitting on the edge of his bed. It had peculiar round markings around its eyes. He jolted at first, but then relaxed immediately. "Mr. Evans! Do you need to tell me something? Why are you there?" the bird hopped off the bed, and before even hitting the floor, there was a man standing in its place. He had black hair with white streaks here and there, with slight barely visible blues and greens. He had a few long feathers flattened against his head. He wore the same clothing as Laurence. His eyes were a dark grey- however in the sun Laurence could swear they had an indigo tint to them. Not around his neck, but around his ankle, was a red band. He had round glasses and was quite a bit shorter than Laurence- perhaps a little less than a foot.
    The feathers on the top of his head rise a bit. Laurence had the urge to touch the head feathers but knew his arms would be ripped off. "I was thinking I should scout with you today, just in case you decide to kill something again."
    Laurence's stomach sank. Did Evans know about the doe he had killed the previous night? "I do not believe that is necessary; in fact, I was planning on bringing Miss Haydn. And I'm sure she'll keep me in check." He flicks his ear dismissively, trying to act as if he didn't understand what Evans meant by the statement. Evans nodded.
    "She's a caracal, but a good one. Young, too."
    "...I'm not sure what you mean by that... but.. I am the age of eighteen, and she is sixteen. She's not that young." He smirks ."You, however, are old."
    "Being 21 does not make you old, you heathen!" the feathers on the top of his head rise completely.
    "And I'm a mouse~!" Laurence barked teasingly. Evans angrily glared at him.
    "Go and find Miss Woodard. I'm sure she's waiting for you." And with those words, he turned and walked away. Laurence sat a moment before getting up and stretching. He ties his hair with a blue ribbon, as it was a mess in his face.
    Haydn should be up by now... but where? He wondered, exiting the sleeping quarters. With a yawn, he began heading into town. He heard a familiar trill; but coming from the healer's den. The healer was a zebra; she was rather tall and wore dark blue robes and was covered in jewelry. A yellow collar was on her neck. It jingled when she moved. She spoke with seriousness though she always joked. He headed towards the small building. Although all of the buildings were old, the healer's was the eldest- cracking mud and stone walls, a ceiling that had been occasionally "fixed up" with chunks of wood. The door was simply hanging vines and leather. On the inside, strange plants grew from hanging pots and whatever else could hold them. A small makeshift desk sat pressed against the wall, suffocated by the plants. Scattered writings lied on the desk and the ground surrounding it. Masks hung on the walls, and occasionally the healer would wear one; typically a bird mask of sorts with wild colors. It sat on a book which lied upon the horribly dirtied desk. Opposite the desk, a cot for the injured. On that cot now, a little trilling and excited caracal. Laurence poked his head in.
     "Haydn? And... Bessie-Mae Le." Laurence sighed silently. The healer spoke.
     "Oh, Sir Caldwell. Kind as always. But that's such a mouthful, is it not? Call me Le. Or Bessie. Or Mae." She smiles. "But not all three." Laurence's eyes widen and he raises an eyebrow in concern.
     "I'll er- be sure to remember that, Mae. What are you ladies doing this morning?"
     "Come on in, Sir Caldwell. Lovely little Haydn was telling me about you few moments ago. Quite the hero. And King King is quite not. No?" Laurence once again was concerned. He never had any particular liking to the healer- he found her quite strange and in that annoying. However, he tolerated her as she was extremely intelligent and had saved many lives many times. Especially his own.
     "He was indeed not the kindest, and I am hoping Miss Woodard didn't take his words to heart- as I'm sure you've seen, she's an amazing creature." Haydn beamed at Laurence when he said those words. "Now- what were you two doing? Why is Miss Woodard here?"
    Mae smiles, tilting her head slightly. "Why, I was about to tell her about the Weihrs. And the kingdom." She leans a bit towards Laurence. "Do you see an issue with this?" Laurence takes a step back.
    "No, Mae. I do not. And even if I did, you wouldn't listen and I have no authority over Miss Woodard. That meaning she doesn't listen for the gods." Mae's smile widens, and Haydn excitedly kicks her feet back and forth as she sits waiting on the cot, ignoring Laurence's comment. The healer begins her story.
    "Many, many years ago, a god, named Ibium, married a shapeshifter. They fell into a deep love and had two children; Malo and Thodia. They could transform into many animals, from mice to lions. Malo and Thodia both married simple humans, however, they could both transform.
    "One day, Thodia's only son; she had five children, four daughters; Lamus, murdered Malo's only child, his daughter. He had mistaken her for a doe, and when her blood ran through the very river we live near, every shapeshifter was cursed to be a single animal. Thodia's children bred with normal humans, and one bred with another shapeshifter; who had been turned to the Weihr because of Lamus. And so, the line of Weihrs began. Now they populate nearly the whole world, as it was very likely for a child to be born as such. Shapeshifting was a born power, but once more, they had become Weihrs."
         Haydn shakes her head. "That pesky Lamus..." Laurence lets out an amused chuckle. Mae turns towards him.
         "Is there something comical about the story?"
"Ah- no.." he jolts, a bit taken aback that he was singled out. "I only laughed because of Miss Woodard's reaction."
"And I was only joking." Mae laughed. "Foolish little wolf." Laurence's ears flatten a bit in annoyance. He turned to Haydn.
"I wanted to take you scouting with me today. For fun. And an apology. Most of all an apology." Haydn smiles smugly at him.
"D'aww, Thanks! While you're at it, I would also like a grand feast for dinner and new books." Laurence rolled his eyes.
"Oh, Mistress Haydn, Prankster of Pranksters, food consumer, I shall give you the most grand of feasts and the most beautiful and rare of books!" Laurence cried, seemingly forgetting about Mae, who was staring at the pair with a completely confused look. "Now- we should really get going. It's already quite late in the day- the sun has risen." The caracal yowled indignantly.
"Late?! You call that late?" Laurence smirks.
"If you're a scout, most of your time is gone by now." She shoots up, her tail poking straight out behind her like a stick. Mae waves to her.
"Goodbye, now. Good luck, and safe travels, little one."