From the Sky

In the morning, she woke up alone again, but Druid was awake as well. The sun hadn’t begun to rise, but the air was warming as if the sun would be coming soon. He’d found a torch to light the inner space of the ruin. It was much bigger than it appeared to be outside. The carvings inside seemed fresh and made of the same gemstone that made up the steps. The torch light filled the carvings in the ruin with soft blue light as if the stone had fairies trapped inside it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, drawing her hands over the writing, wondering what it said.
The ruin her father used to take her to had writing carved into the walls like this, but he didn’t know what it said and they were much more faded than these.
“Do you know what they say?” Sirona asked.
He chuckled, “I do, but I cannot tell you. One day, you may be able to read them.”
“Is this a magic thing?” Sirona asked.
“Yes, in a sense.” He drew his fingers over the carvings reverently. “My teacher said that the temple walls would speak to anyone ready to hear its words.”
Sirona frowned. His voice was a bit sad ad reverent.
“What was your teacher like?”
“Crabby, reticent, and a miser.”
Sirona laughed, unable to help herself. Druid retracted his hand and turned to her.
“But he was the best man I’d ever known. He taught me the meaning of kindness and how to use my gifts.”
Druid’s lips twitched, remembering the old man. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but his manner was unforgettable. He had gone by the moniker of Druid before people began to call him Druid after he began to dress like the man after his death.
“I wanted to stay until daybreak to show you something.”
“Show me something?”
“Well, I can’t explain it now, but you need to see it.”
Sirona smiled wondering what it could be. The man didn’t see the difference between the light and the dark. How did he even know what time of day it was? And what could his mysterious god want her to see?
He pulled her along towards the back of the temple as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Light crept into the temple through the open doorway. A song began to fill the air as the light graced the walls of the temple.
The gemstone began to glow a vibrant green. The light bled into the carvings on the floor, turning the floor to gold in the light. The faded streaks of gold grew and flourished, bleeding down the walls around the gemstone walls.
She gasped watching it unfold.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“What does it look like to you?” She asked.
He seemed shocked, hesitating to answer before lifting his head, “Like liquid light spilling everywhere. The temple’s power renews and dies with the sun.”
She frowned, “Is that why there are no torches for light?”
“Yes.” He nodded, “Once, the god of this temple was so revered that the temple was a beacon in the night, but that has changed. Now, this is only possible at the end of the dark moon.”
She frowned; a bit saddened at the thought.
“It’s a shame. It’s beautiful.”
“It is.”
They stayed to listen to the end of the song as the sun rose. For a moment, she thought she saw her father’s silhouette standing at the entrance of the temple. The figure turned back to look at her before walking into the sunlight.
“Did you see him?” Druid asked.
Her eyes burned with tears and she sniffled, “Yes… Thank you.”

After they left the ruin, they returned to Dalan. Sirona watched Druid move through the world with a new understanding and awe. She wondered what deity he served that made the forest bend around him and allow him passage. Was that part of his power or just his effect on things?
Would he tell her about his religion? Druid didn’t talk much about himself unless she asked. Sirona felt her heart grow lighter as they neared Druid’s home though Druid seemed to be rushing towards it.
He opened the door with a loud sigh. Sirona chuckled at the sound.
“Did you miss home that much?”
“I have been looking forward to returning home and having a proper bath for weeks,” he stretched with a groan. “There just hasn’t been time, but today there is and I will not squander it!”
Sirona laughed, “Well, let me know if you need help carrying the water. It’s the least I can—”
Her voice broke off as Druid walked forward and pulled his leather vest off, then unwrapped his hooded shirt and slipped out of the fabric walking towards the large basin in the center of the main room. She remained frozen and let her gaze follow the winding curves of the marks on his back that were dark like tattoos. His back was heavily muscled and strong, reminding her of a farmhand she’d seen when she was younger.
His hair was long and braided down his back. He pulled it over his shoulder as he waved his hand over the basin and it began to fill. When he turned to face her, her heart sped up.
She hadn’t let herself think too hard about the face that was always covered in the shadow of his hood.
She had never expected his jaw to be so sharp. His face seemed carved by a god to steal the heart of women everywhere. His eyes were open, darting around as if he could see, but the pupils were a milky white like a normal blinded person’s eyes would be.
He unraveled the cord holding his braid together as she stared at the broad expanse of his chest. Her mouth watered as she followed the cut of his hips towards his pants. She hadn’t had much time to think of men back in Conna, but she almost wanted to say a prayer of thanks for such a beautiful sight.
“I’ll just… go tend the garden. Give you some privacy. Enjoy your bath!”
“Mind the blue squashes!” he called after her, “They’re temperamental at best.”
Sirona closed the back door behind her and leaned back against it, trying to calm her racing heart. She searched the garden for the sign of the blue squashes but none of the squash was blue.
She scoffed and shook her head. How could she take directions based on color from a blind man? She supposed that answered her question about whether or not he could see colors.
With a chuckle, she picked up a shovel and a pair of shears and kneeled near a garden bed that could use some weeding. The plants that were growing alongside the carrots were beneficial for something, but not good for the plants.
Slowly, she lost herself to the work while trying to put the sight of Druid’s half-naked form out of her mind. She licked her lips as one of the plants seemed to curl around her finger and flicker with light. Her heart jolted as she stilled her hand.
Strange things like this had been happening more and more frequently since she’d woken up on the other side of the Tara River. It had to have something to do with the way she crossed it.
Maybe she’d been chosen to come to Berth for a reason. She sat back and sighed as her thoughts turned to her father. The grief had not eased at all. The sight of his defiant expression in his dead face flashed behind her eyelids as she took a deep breath.
“Mother, if you aren’t alive, I hope your death was painless.”
The wind blew as a bird’s song reached her ears. She took a deep calming breath as the clouds parted and she felt the sun’s warmth on her face. She should give thanks that she’d managed to escape the temple or death by the pyre. She’d been lucky or blessed enough that Druid had found her, saved her, and saw fit to take her in when he could have left her in the wilderness to be eaten or maimed.
She’d make a life here and find some manner of peace with things she couldn’t change.
As she opened her eyes, she felt a bit of calm settle over her.
Then, a figure appeared over her.
The young man who looked no older than she was wearing a gold-trimmed jacket, a white blouse, and black breeches hovered several feet above her head. His boots looked shiny and new and he carried no weapon.
Where Druid was rugged, this man was beautiful and ethereal hovering in the air with brilliant golden eyes. His hair was the color of honey and fluttering in the wind that seemed to cradle him.
She’d never seen anyone like him.
He drifted to the ground and landed a few feet from her. His lips curved into a charming smile.
“What a flower in Druid’s old garden,” he said looking at her. “Perhaps the old ascetic has finally learned to live?”
He kneeled, lowering his eyelids so his eyes were hooded as he smirked. His teeth seemed to be a dazzling white and her heart started to race. How could any man be so beautiful?
“Tell me, dear flower. Where is he?”