Tragic Innocence

Chapter 18: Enchantress

            The fresh forest air felt cold against Crow’s face as Rawl dashed through the calm, singing woods.  Once arriving to her lair, he dismounted smoothly, searching the vicinity for any onlookers.  At one time, Zolata had been well sought after for her methods of natural healing and apprenticeship to her art of sorcery.  Now, she was avoided with severity, for the populace feared a curse would destroy their lives if they dared to near her.

            Crow shook his head sadly at their ignorance attached to their superstitions.  Have they not realized that now it was impossible for the type of evil magic they feared of, had long ago been obliterated?

            Many chimes tinkled softly in the gentle breeze, catching his straying attention, which marked her realm.  He smiled, unable to control the light flutter rising in the pit of his stomach.  It had been long since his last encounter with her.  Much too long.

            Ancient willows swayed sadly, their long tendrils brushing lightly against the thick grassy grounds.  Then a weightless sulfuric odor easily curled into the air--was she casting spells in her little hideaway?  Crow breathed it in deeply as it invoked sweet memories long past.

            He smiled again.  The Turon had yearned to feel her within the strong embrace of his arms once more, but knew that such was never to be acted out again.  She was openly shunned in public and hurled into banishment from society.  Only the foolish continued to dare to seek her guidance.  And Crow happened to be one of them.

            Crow scrutinized her dwelling place, trying to remember where the passage hid.  She had shown him once, but at the time he was strongly intoxicated with amorous thoughts.  The only thing he could remember was that it was hidden somewhere behind many tangled branches and roots.  He frowned with dismay as he could not locate its entrance.

            “Zolata,” he whispered in a husky inflection, knowing she would somehow hear him.

            “Over here,” the soft breeze whispered lightly into his ears. 

            He spun around and found her staring deeply into his eyes.  They were considerate, but had an impish gleam in them.  Her thick tresses floated effortlessly in the winds.  It was flaming gold, just like he remembered.  A soft glow illuminated the part of night from the miniature crystal ball that crowned her scepter.  The deep shadows flirted with the smooth texture of her face, causing a seeming smile to greet him.  Crow could never pin her exact emotion due to her façade of iciness.  She had not always been so aloof…

            Crow truly admired her.  She was strong in the face of exile, even when it had caused her last home to be brought down by a fire from a mob of angry and thoroughly frightened denizens.  She always kept about an air of confidence and never ever allowed anyone to break through her armor of self-protection.

            Though she had never relinquished her thoughts regarding her suffering, her diminished speech consisted of very little words.  Zolata learned to keep to herself and to never expect anything in return.  She even accepted everyone how they were, full of scars and hate, for perhaps she was filled with such darkness as well.

            A harsh screech broke the heavy silence above, drawing the attention of the couple.  Crow instinctively reached for his sword which was not at hand.  He was greatly alarmed by this fact.  It was his constant companion no matter where he went!  Why had he left it behind?

            He stood protectively before Zolata, but she laughed at his effort of protection.  Crow ignored her as he could feel a threatening presence descend upon them. Nothing could be seen through the thickness that the eventide produced as he squinted against it.