When she would normally have argued about being foolish, she had no such predisposition in this moment. All she could think about was how she thought her brother was going to be eaten alive by that huge, unknown, and ferocious beast; and how fear had all but crippled her as she stood to face it. Had it not been for her brother's heroic action and ability to strike true with his dagger, she was certain she would have met her end this day. So while the entirety of her young life had been spent arguing against her brother's requests, the events of these past several moments would offer a respite to such compulsions. "Yes. I will be right back." Running as hard and fast as she could, she found both packs in short order, slung both over her shoulder, and bounded back toward her injured brother.
"I brought both packs just in case we need something more. Here, let me take a look at your arm," she said as she knelt down beside him.
Though her brother was instructed by their father in bandaging techniques, she was fortunate enough to have spent many hours under the tutelage of her mother who was a self-taught herbal healer. As such, Rony knew that the best chance for his healing was found in his sister's knowledge. So he had no objections to gingerly extending his arm, even though he was wincing with every movement of his muscles, for her inspection.
Zyn scooted herself next to him allowing her to fully support his forearm while she methodically inspected it. Rony was always surprised by how detail oriented his sister was with regard to the healing arts. Their mother had always stressed the amount of patience one needed to properly care for any wound. Knowing how matter-of-fact his sister had always been toward every aspect of marksmanship, he was shocked when he saw her sitting down with their mother about five years ago while she slowly explained the intricacies of the healing arts. He thought for sure she would lose interest, but in complete contrast to who he knew her to be, she continued to meet with their mother on a weekly basis for lesson after lesson.
"Can you tell me why it hurts so much? I have been bitten by animals before, but this one stings. It is like stepping on a needle weed except that the pain feels almost hot and penetrating deep into the bone," he said as his eyes squinted from wincing.
"Let me take a look, please, before you stream questions. I have not even had the time to examine the wound," she said in an authoritative voice in spite of her younger years. Without making a sound, she examined the edges of the wound with her fingertips by taking time to trace its edges fully. After she made a complete circumference, she took her fingers and held them lightly on each of the bit marks. Rony could not tell what she was looking for, but he could tell there were very specific things she was evaluating. Next, she ran her fingers lightly across the length and width of the now bloodless wound, "Ok, this is going to hurt a little." Directly after her statement, she pushed the two edges of each bite mark together producing a very loud and hard grunt from her brother on each occasion.
"What was that for? My torture for years and years of making you practice your bow?"
"No, brother of mine, that was to confirm whether or not my suspicions were correct. And they are. There is poison in your wound."
"What do you mean poison? How did it get there? What is it going to do to me? Do you know how to stop it?" he asked in rapid succession as his eyes grew wide from anxiety.
"Rony! I have no answers to your questions at all! I can only suspect that the poison got there because it was in the teeth of the beast that just bit you. I do not know what it will do to you and I do not know how to stop it yet. But I do know that I need to find a very specific weed that used to grow near our home. The oils in its leaves have been known to slow the effects of many poisons. That is all we can do for now," she answered his questions with a very calm, but grim look on her face. She tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it fell short because she had never encountered a poison quite like this.
All of the poisons she had encountered under the instruction of her mother, some of which were from animals, mostly snakes and spiders, but most of which were from plants, were all moderately slow acting and never produced the heat at the edges of the wounds like this one. It was clear she was working against the swift passage of time. At least more swiftly that she was used to. Not wanting to waste any more time trying to answer her brother's anxious questions, she stood up and took two steps while looking on the ground. As she did, she told her brother that she was going to be right back and for him to stay as calm as possible. But before she took another step, she stopped and began looking around. There was something she could feel. It was the same feeling she had just before she went running into the forest abandoning her brother to follow. It was a faint nagging at her vibrations. As if her arrow was out of vibrational sync with her target and the only way to align them together was to find what was pulling on her. In the adrenalin induced, fear panicked battle, she had forgotten why she had darted off in the first place; to find that which was calling out to her.
But there it was again. Something small, something faint, something familiar and yet, something different was pulling on her consciousness with the intent to make contact with that which was familiar to it. And it was relentless in its insistence. She looked down at her brother, who seemed to possess more color and vitality than she had expected considering the heat of his wounds. He looked up to her as if silently acknowledging her request and permission to seek out what was clearly searching them out.
Them. There was more than one, and they possessed a consciousness not unlike her own. Though when she focused her innate vibrational awareness upon it, she found that it was evasive, but not out of malice; more so out of uncertainty and fear, as if a child was hiding behind the legs of its parent's because while there is no direct reason for any fear linked to the specific vessel of uncertainty, it has learned that uncertainty can contain the potential of being malicious. In the moment of her understanding that the search was being propagated by something small, apprehensive, and childlike, she had made her decision to follow her intent, which was now focused on the awareness. Being torn by two equal stresses, one of which was complete in its physical presence and entirely familiar, and the other distant, distinct, yet just as familiar, she was released from her impossible dilemma when her brother spoke, "Go. I feel it too. I will be ok. I do not feel any effects of the bite except from the loss of blood." With her brother’s confirming words, and without hesitation, she bounded back into the woods in the same direction she had when she first began her search.
Jogging blindly except for her vibrational awareness, she was certain she was going in the right direction. Any need to adjust her path was illustrated by the same feeling when her target and arrow were out of sync. With each passing second, the origin of the impulse she was feeling drew closer. After running for a few minutes, she felt intimately close and should have been able to see the other awareness, yet when she slowed to stop and look around, she could see no such thing. She stood, looking in each direction by making a slow and detailed sweep of her surroundings, taking note of any and all visual details with the expectation of finding the source of her current endeavor. Yet in each direction she looked, through the whole circumference of her surroundings, she simply could not align her vibrations with the intent that was still pleading with her. In the middle of her panoramic gaze, she felt a slight nuzzling against her foot and instinctively looked down. There, snuggling against her leather boot, was a small wolf pup. As she focused on it, it lifted its head and began wagging its tail slightly from side to side. She dismissed the pup as the source of her quest and took two steps in the direction she was heading, preparing to run once again. Just as she was about to break into a slow jog and continue her pursuit, the small wolf pup made a high pitched barking sound. In response, she heard another high pitched barking sound. When she turned around, there were two small wolf pups standing, both with semi-tilted heads to the right and both with their tails wagging slightly from side to side, directly in front of her.
And then she felt it.
As palpable as repeatedly prodding a bruise, she felt an extension from the first wolf pup that filtered into her consciousness. She was only vaguely aware of its intent, but she could tell it was curious, a little apprehensive, and very playful. She bent down to one knee and extended her hand palm up. The pup came over to her slowly, pausing briefly every few steps. She could tell, somehow, that this wolf pup was female while the other one was male. She did not pick up as strong of a prodding from the male pup, but she could determine that its overall emotional state was that of worry and caution. The female wolf pup eventually crossed the distance separating them and gingerly sniffed her outstretched fingers. A moment later, she felt, from the prodding in her consciousness, a slight surge of confidence and affection. The female wolf pup nuzzled its head into the palm of her hand, allowing its ears to be rubbed and scratched. Just then, the male wolf pup also gingerly walked up to Zyndalia and repeated the actions of his sister.
Rony! She had been so immersed within the connection to these two wolf pups that she had completely forgotten about the weed she needed to find. However, she could not leave the wolf pups here unguarded and alone to fend for themselves; but she had to find the moonshade. Its leaves were known to help slow the suffering of nearly all of the poisons of her home. Her mother had said that the oils directly neutralized the wound's heat by bonding with and slowing the spread of the poison within the blood. When Zyn asked how that was possible, her mother had told her to think of the tree sap they gathered. They only gathered it on hot summer days when it would flow from the veins of the trees. On cooler days, it would not yield as much in the same time. She said it was the same with the moonshade oil when it bonded with poison. The combination of both fluids produced a cooling effect. The cooler the substance became, the more slowly it progressed through the body, just like sap through the tree veins. If they were near their home, she would be able to find it without much thought or time, but they were not and so she could not. They were in unfamiliar surroundings with unfamiliar plants. In truth, she did not know where to even begin looking for moonshade.
"Now what are you doing?" she asked as she noticed that the male wolf pup's behavior had changed from the timid, docile, and untrusting persona it imparted to her into a confident, helpful, and determined demeanor. When she had finished asking what she thought was going to be a completely rhetorical question, the male pup turned around excitedly in two complete, tight circles as if it was chasing its tail. When it stopped, it was staring directly at Zyn, head tilted slightly to the right.
"What is it you are trying to tell me?" she asked in response to its actions.
Again the pup spun around in two tight circles and stopped only to stare right at her with the familiar right sided head tilt.
"You know where the Moonshade is!" As she said this, she felt more than saw an image of the exact weed she was looking for. But this image was not derived from an internal, mental focus; it had its genesis from somewhere outside of her thoughts. When she pictured it in her mind as she had just done moments ago, her image was linked to many things. For example, just thinking about the moonshade by name produced several memories that ranged from its various generic uses, to specific incidences when she and her mother used it. One of these memories was a mental map complete with directions leading to a number of familiar locations all beginning at her home. But none of her network of memories in regards to the moonshade, held that which she needed in this moment, a directional reference for her current location. None that is, until she felt it from the male wolf pup. His consciousness contained a well-defined directional reference beginning from the very spot they were standing. Though it was only a vague pictorial representation of the direction, it was also accompanied by another defined vision imparting an understanding of distance as well. The combination of these two understandings allowed her to, somehow, know where she had to go to find the moonshade and help her brother.
Without further hesitation, she began running as fast as she could. Effortlessly jumping over fallen trees, dodging the occasional low branch, and deftly negotiating the rough and unfamiliar terrain, she quickly approached the location contained within the male pup's memory. When she felt she was drawing near the end of her search, she slowed her pace and was surprised to see that both pups were still with her. Moments later, she entered a small clearing of sorts and bent down to stroke the male pup on its head, "So is this the place?"
A single, high pitched bark answered her question. When Zyn did not act on the answer, the wolf pup spoke again with two individual, high pitched barks.
"Ok, Ok. I hear you. Both of you. So this is the spot. Then it must be here somewhere," she said more to herself than to the two wolf pups. She started looking around the clearing perimeter. After only a couple of minutes, she found the moonshade. She grabbed her dagger from her boot and dug the moonshade out from its roots. As she was about to turn around and begin the journey back to her brother, when she heard both pups begin barking wildly. She looked around attempting to locate the source of their agitation, but the images she was receiving were very frantic, jumbled, and impossible for her to interpret. Not only that, but they were prohibiting her from clearly focusing on what her own senses were telling her. She was able to understand, however, a distinct fear being communicated to her from the female wolf pup. But this was not an internal fear one feels when faced with a direct confrontation, but a fear for another who is deeply cared for. The pup was trying to tell her that she was in danger. The flood of emotions and warnings from the pups were beginning to overwhelm her to the point where she was unable to think let alone notice the troupe of goblins surrounding her position, lingering just out of vision in the cover of the forest.
Zyndalia felt their fear increase and instinctively they adopted a readied posture. Unsure of the exact nature of the eminent threat, but sure it was indeed there, she adjusted the grip on her dagger and made ready for a fight. The pups stopped their harried barking and began a threatening growl while slowly looking around at the edges of the small clearing. To her right, she saw something move within the trees beyond the clearing. A slight and fleeting flash of sun reflecting something metallic drew her attention. She slowly walked toward it with her dagger drawn. She saw it again, a second flash of metallic reflected sunlight. Whoever or whatever was watching or hunting her was not very adept at making itself invisible. This perhaps would work in her favor as it might be an indication of the overall skill level of her current pursuer. As she approached closer to the spot of the flash, she heard a ruffle of the surrounding leaves also betraying the location of whatever waited in attempted silence. Gathering her courage born from the resolute endeavor of returning to her brother to administer the poison slowing weed, she stepped into the covering trees, and right into a trap.
"Kalak!" screamed a high pitched voice from behind her.
Spinning to see what had spoken the foreign word, she had just enough time to see a large and heavy net descend over her location, but not enough time to avoid it. Rushing at her from every direction were several goblins, some screaming high pitched, foreign words and others triumphantly raising their weapons over their heads to celebrate their success. Zyn, still with her dagger in hand, tried lashing out at some of the closer goblins, but with the net surrounding her, it was useless as she could gain no real momentum to make any strike effective. She attempted to step toward one of the small, green, foul smelling creatures, but stumbled and fell to the ground. Instantly the goblins were upon her, pinning her down and tying her to the net to minimize any threat to their collective health.
"Kinack brin boonir a lac tendo," she heard the same voice that shouted the initial command. Out of the corner of her eye, but more importantly, out of the corner of her mind, which was now riddled with fear for herself and her brother, she felt the gentle prodding from the female wolf pup convey aggression and the intent to attack. She could not allow this. She needed the wolf pups to find her brother. She focused on the pup's cons
ciousness and followed it to the source of its extension. She felt her mind enter it easily. But in doing so, she was confused with its thoughts. They were entirely foreign. She had expected it to be more clearly defined, perhaps because her only experience with minds was limited to her own. How could a mind convey thoughts any differently than hers? But where hers was dominated by language and descriptions defined by it, this mind, the female wolf pup's mind, was defined not by language and words, but by senses and pictures and smells. These pictures and senses contained nothing Zyndalia was familiar with. They were abstract, containing more feelings than tangible descriptions. She had but moments to convey her desired task. But how could she convey a message to find her brother in the feelings and emotions contained in this foreign mind?
And then she had it. Just as she was carried away to the victorious yells from her goblin captures, she conveyed a connection between her and Rony equal to the bond between the two pups. She then concentrated on the emotions she felt because she was apart from her brother along with the emotions she would feel if and when they were reunited.
"Do you understand? Find him," she asked and said, hoping that both pups were able to feel what she was feeling.
"Drothic bin!" shouted the voice in the goblin's guttural language. She saw one of the goblins approach her in response, obviously prompted by this latest command. She threw the moonshade on the ground and imparted a feeling of desperation to the female wolf pup. As she watched the goblin approaching her draw a small, ball shaped object from his belt. As he raised his hard to strike, Zyn was able to yell, “Go! Now!” She did not see the goblin strike her, but felt the solid and heavy object crash against her skull. As her sight faded into the blackness of unconsciousness, her final emotion was that of hope.
Lacorion (Dragon King).
Convergence (The Dragon Within Saga Book 1) Page 26