Touch of Destiny
Table of Contents
Prologue The Boy What Makes a Friend? Into the Calm The Tribunal Favor Worthy and Willing The Perfect Shape A Day at the River Finding Humor One Year Later Heart of Gumber Gentle Warning Answers Secret Errand Sacrificial Promise Winter Feast Blood and Snow Metal and Magic Solstice Moon Invitation Pieces of the Past The Raven's Perch Growing Spark Rude Awakening House Arrest Confrontation High Tide Caged Justified The Elder Tree The Raven's Den King's Call No Barrier Can Hold EpilogueCaged
Falling droplets of water stirred Damien awake. Opening his eyes, he saw a ring of dim yellow lamps hanging from a black, stone ceiling. The sight of it startled him, made him jolt into a sit, but he realized he couldn't move. Something had him tethered down, and when he looked at himself, he saw four sets of leather straps that attached him to an uncomfortably firm bed. His arms, legs and torso were all kept in place.
Another drop of gray water landed on his cheek, but he puzzled as to where it came from. The ceiling of his room in Ëolnir had never leaked.
"Ahh!" He screamed, moving and shaking every muscle that he could. How did he get here? Who had found him and captured him? So many questions with no answers. "Baldemar! How did you find me!" He kept squirming, trying to over-strain the straps but it was little use.
He heard a noise coming from a few paces away, an old man's voice speaking like whispers.
"Slowly," the man warned. "The Lorish rune on its arm is still fading."
"What?" Looking over, Damien saw the familiar figure of that raven-shifting man he had encountered in the woods, and he squinted. None of this made sense. "Where am I?"
Girithane spread his hands to the open black space around him. "This is my den. I like to be a gracious host by casting more comfortable surroundings for my subjects."
"Surroundings?" Damien gawked at the dark ceiling, the yellow lamps. "This is an illusion?"
"Yes, I read its memories. It spent much time here as a child."
“Would you stop calling me it? Speak to me properly or don’t speak to me at all.”
“Very well. If it—if you are offended, then I shall speak in a manner that seems more worthy.”
"You…captured me?"
The raven man nodded and took a few steps forward. "You would not come willingly, so I waited for your Sorceress’ protection to falter."
"Where is Ash?"
Girithane smirked. "She is in a cage, a prison built by your Lorish friends. Her barrier over you has fallen."
Now it made more sense. Damien understood the girl's words now; protection from the 'real' monsters.
A dark chuckle left his lips. He figured he could do one of two things: break down into anguish or keep his humor. So he chose the latter.
"And what do you want from me, Girithane?"
"Your blood.”
Damien looked down at his body, searching for recent scars of any kind. The lack of them made him puzzle. “Well, what’s stopping you?”
“That rune,” Girithane pointed. “Lorish runes have a way of affecting the life fluids. I prefer to wait until you are clean again. Shouldn’t be long now.”
“And why do you want it? Or…need it?”
“I am a scientist. My fellow Druids depend on me to uncover secrets of nature and power. In your blood, I have found properties that go far beyond the normal scope of both. Truly unique and unprecedented.”
“And what's so special about it?”
“If I knew, I would not require more for study.”
"Well, at least you don't plan to kill me right?"
"No, killing you is counterproductive."
"Then I'll make you a deal: I'll give you my blood if you let me go."
"Tempting as that is, I know you will send your Sorceress after me once you both are free. I understand she is possessive of you."
"Nah, you'll have nothing to worry about. This stays between us. Promise."
"Hm." Girithane smiled again. "I can see in your thoughts that you plan to come hunt me yourself."
"Damn. I forgot you Druids were telepaths."
"Indeed. My bargain is simple: my experiments will take as long as they need, and in return for your cooperation, I will not torture the Sorceress you pine for. Do we have a deal?"
"Why keep me down here indefinitely? I have a life you know."
"My science takes time," Girithane said, leaning over the padded table. "But rest assured: you will go free when I am done with you."
"Oh sure," Damien scoffed. "I'll be free. Once the last drop has been taken."
"Do we have a bargain?" Girithane winced. “Or shall I capture your Sorceress also?”
Damien let out a sigh. This was why... this was why he shouldn’t have gotten close to the girl. Now he had to endure this.
He accepted his fate by resting his head back on the poor excuse for a pillow.
"Just...change the scenery, will you? I hate this place."
Lifting his tribal staff, Girithane dispelled his convincing illusion. Damien saw the walls and ceiling recede to reveal what truly appeared like a den in his definition. He could tell this place was underground, given off by the tangle of unhealthy roots and vines peeking through the soil above him. The dripping water? Apparently it was just the build up of moisture within the plants.
The space itself was laid out like a primitive laboratory; a table cluttered with druidic tools and objects. Leather bound tomes were piled about the place, along with feathered ink pens and the like.
Girithane must have been an experienced alchemist, among many other things. His tools were both practical and delicate.
In the corner, Damien made out the shape of a furry beast laying on top of a crimson carpet. Though he could not see the animal's face, he suspected by the shape of a tail and canine paws that it was a wolf. Deep gashes marred the canine's hide, its body barely moved from breathing.
Damien lifted his head up, squinting. He recognized that wolf; the huge body, the gray fur... "Drekaan?" He turned his gaze as the raven man blocked his field of vision. "What did you do to Drekaan?"
Girithane glanced back at the wolf before answering, "I do not abide intruders.”
Damien gasped. The carpet wasn’t made of crimson, it was stained with blood.
“You…killed him?”
Then the walls of the room turned into a completely different backdrop. Damien saw a forest lit by rays of sunlight, a clear stream that washed uphill instead of down. Dancing blue butterflies adorned a field of white lilies, with yellow pollen drifting everywhere. On every wall, he saw Ashlyn amongst nature's beauty, reading a book, laughing at a joke, wading in the river. Her garments were flowing and free, nothing like the long dresses and robes she wore. Floating streams of fabric left the skin of her arms and legs bare.
He swallowed, facing the girl as she laid in the flowery field beside him. Her lips spread into a captivating smile. It was an illusion, he knew that, but the warm tingle spreading throughout his stomach, the way his blood rushed and reddened his cheeks, was far too real to ignore. The most real thing he had ever felt. Why had he doubted her? How had the girl even gotten under his skin?
"Is this really necessary?" He was no longer sure of where the raven man stood in proximity. "It's a bit torturous, don't you think?"
The raven man appeared within the illusion, a striking silhouette against the backdrop. “It is merely science; your life fluids are quickly primed by a strong need to mate.”
“Ah. Then I suppose we should add pervert to the list of things you are.”
“Pervert, no. Unlike you, I do not have a dire need to mate,” Girithane said, pulling out a mundane knife.
“How does that work? Surely even Druids must procreate.”
“To a fair degree, but our longevity works in our favor.” He leaned in close as if to sniff the blood in Damien’s veins. “You would do well to remain silent.”
By all counts, there should have been more pain as the blade slit open Damien’s forearm, but the sleep rune had been far more stinging in comparison. He didn't even twitch as Girithane dripped a fair amount of blood into a silver goblet.
“That’s it?” The young man smirked. “That is your worst?” Once Girithane had his sample, he took his staff and pressed it to the wound. "Ah!" There was the expected pain. A burn that seared over Damien’s skin, left it looking and smelling like a cauterized scab. When it was over, all he wanted was to press a cool hand to his arm, but the straps... He grunted, scowling at his captor. "You have it. Let me go now!"
Girithane held his nose over the goblet and breathed, his silver eyes widened. "We have only just begun."
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