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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1657810
Second Draft of Root Guardian - First section of a longer work.
She wanted to watch the boy all day. He played with the strange wood blocks painted with strange symbols and creatures like some random game. Stacking them and then letting them fall. The moment felt so surreal and she smiled despite the foolish activity. Her grin widened as the boy squealed in delight as another block tumbled rolling close to her. Should she lure him into the woods? Her guardian would be pleased? 

She felt her guardian’s footfalls even now moving through dried needles. His voice an echo of words set to fall on the very air moving through the trees. She reveled in his breath calling her name summoning her. Placing her hand on the ground she made to move a closer to the boy her intent thrilling her down to her toes. She had seen her guardian lure countless beings human and less than human. Bending them like trees in a gust of wind.  Now it was her turn to show him all he taught her.

Stealing herself, she whispered a sweet call of greeting picking up the block to entice the gift more. The little boy looked up brown eyes sparkling with added mischief. Tucking his pudgy knees underneath him he stood, arms outstretched giggling. His lumbering gait picked up speed and a gale force wind swept up the needles and leaves at her feet blotting out the little boy.



She uncurled from her place sensing her guardian close and much more urgent voice. Crackling leaves flew past her steps as she scrambled into the deeper shade…her mind reeling, aching to feel his touch, hear his voice near her shoulder muttering. He dragged her from all other aims. 



The little boy’s form pushed against her to the ground confusing her. She pushed up with her hands and looked aghast at the blinking but satisfied youngster. Before her eyes his face lost it pudginess gaining sharpness and toned muscles thorough his neck, shoulders and arms. His clothes ripped in places, pieces of leaves molding against the skin turning it a rich tan brown of a new maple tree stripped of its bark wet from dew.

The boy smiled his eyes echoing her expression of intent. A bird cried a warning cry and took wing above and his brown eyes took her in suddenly sad and melancholy. She was sure that whatever the boy was to be had now been taken by time. Yet she felt as if it were her own time that had been removed.



He leaned close his voice drowning out her liege, her lord, the provider of her days, ”Layla.”



Laying a shaky hand on the boy’s chest she pushed feebly. The boy gripped her arm pulling her up with him. She worked to breathe, to hear her guardian. “He waits,” the boy spoke. She looked at him and felt sick. His grip loosened. She flew, the wet leaves and sharp thorns of twigs feeling alien against her skin. He knows her name. Her true name! The name she left behind.



“Layla.”



She didn’t feel sick at the gravely voice. She didn’t feel anything. Ashamed she knelt and slowly bowed her head,” I am lost.”



“The lost were meant to be found, my dear,” he said lifting her with cold winds brushing her hair from her brow. “We just have to find the root.” Her guardian’s eyes drew her in enrapturing her again.



                             *                              *                              *



Layla tried her best to stay in step with her guardian, but her body didn’t respond correctly. Her feet dragged snagging on branches and thin roots covered with dead leaves. Her torso and arms twitched with each failure to dodge twining vines hanging from tree trunks. She urgently wanted to embrace him. Why would he not sweep her up into her arms? 

Instead the world whirled around her in shadow or stunningly bright. Nothing made sense. The only thing that was clear, kept her focused was her guardian who strode the forest floor like a small whirlwind. When he stopped she also ceased to move. She planted her feet gritting her teeth. The ground at her feet lay littered with fallen bramble, stones covered with brown and gray lichen glittering with predawn moisture. She narrowed her eyes and gasped at the nimbus of green edged with silver indicating a living guide. Falling to her knees she stared at the diamond green fragmented sparkles it gave off. She then realized the effect came from her own eyes. The wetness warmed the stone and she felt a cool hand brush her cheek.

         “It is lovely, yes?”

         “Yes,” she whispered.

         “Can you sense anything?’

         “Yes,” unable to deny him the slightest thought.

         “You sense its purpose?”

         His quick thrust over the stone broke the connection and she moved back a step frightened. Her hand thrust out to the glow, aching for that knowledge of the Path. Her guardian clamped his hand around her wrist and pulled her away with a cry. Dismayed she felt the life line diminish to nothing. She looked down and only found a dark, lifeless and unmoving stone the lichen and all its energy swiped off.

Gone.

She jerked her arm away from her guardian but he held fast lifting her arm to shoulder length. There that green glow enveloped her own palm and she could feel the energy run up her arm. For a moment she could smell the loam.

         “You see and feel that? Her guardian muttered, his dark eyes studying her like a newly found being. “This is what you must protect. I will be returning to my slumber. You I have chosen to guard me until I wake. What that boy took in your moment of weakness, we will recover.”











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