Medicine

“Thank you,” the old woman said. “It is truly Arawn’s will that you would bless us.”
Sirona frowned as Druid didn’t bother to correct her. He nodded and told her that they’d be back the next week to check on her, leaving the remedy with the old woman and continuing away from her.
The old woman was the third person to reference Druid’s medicine as Arawn’s will.
“Druid,” Sirona started as they walked away, “What exactly do they mean by that? Arawn’s will?”
Druid chuckled, “It is a saying to explain why things happen that cannot be readily explained.”
Sirona frowned. The cult of Anu held that order and goodness were all the will of Anu, but the evil of heresy got in the way of that will being carried out. It was Anu’s will that all heretics be dealt with and all pagans be converted. She realized that Arawn wasn’t an active god in the same way, but surely, they attributed only good things to their god, right?
“You make it seem like they would say that even if terrible things were to happen.”
“They would.”
Sirona sputtered, “Why would they worship a god who would allow terrible things to happen? That would will it?”
Druid chuckled, “Because there is a larger purpose for it, I suppose.”
Sirona frowned, “Maybe earthquakes, but what about things like bandit attacks?”
Druid shrugged, “In the cult of Anu, they would be considered of the same caliber.”
Sirona shook her head, “That’s… I’m so confused.”
Druid nodded, “It is difficult, sometimes, to reconcile your faith with someone else’s.”
Sirona worried her lip, “Well, what about you? Do you believe terrible things are the will of the gods?”
“I don’t,” Druid said, “At least, not exactly. I believe natural events, like earthquakes and mudslides, are the result of things beyond our understanding. I don’t think the gods worry themselves overly much about the movements of the earth. But evil, true evil, is the will of humans.”
She gasped, “Why do you help people if you think that they’re responsible for evil?”
Druid shook his head, “You are over-simplifying things to take it in that way, but to answer your question, I believe the will of the gods is finding peace and harmony with all living creatures. Sometimes, finding peace is simply helping where you can, and harmony is found in a bit of kindness.”
He stopped and pointed behind them, “For example, that old woman was a swindler in the capital, but that has nothing to do with her ailments.”
Doing something like helping old swindlers was unheard of under the cult of Anu. She looked back, surprised.
“Would you call her evil?”
“Well, yes.”
“Even if that was the only way to make a living at the time and she had a family to feed?”
“Well,” her shoulders slumped. “No, but what about the ruler?”
He nodded, “A ruler could alleviate that situation through subsidies, lesser taxes, etc. Wouldn’t you call the unwillingness to do so evil?”
Sirona frowned, turning over his words and looking back, “You’re… saying evil isn’t so simple.”
“Exactly.”
Sirona didn’t think she could take such a nuanced approach on moral issues, but she understood that Druid was of a different faith and Beth was a very different place.
She wondered if the man in the garden had such a complicated view of things.
“You never told me who that man in your garden was.”
“He didn’t introduce himself?” Druid scoffed, “I’m not surprised that he didn’t. His name is Arawn.”
She frowned, “Arawn… like the god?”
“Yes. The same.”
Her heart lurched, “He’s a god?
“He is.”
Druid didn’t offer anything more than that as they walked out of the town and into the forest. He instructed her to gather a bunch of wolfsbane flowers and left her to work while he climbed a tree to gather something else.
Alone with her thoughts, her mind turned back to Arawn. She could almost feel his body heat against her and the warmth of his gaze on her.
What would it have been like to let him touch her more? A little thrill of embarrassment and heat went through her as she tried to imagine what it would be like to go along with whatever Arawn wanted.
Something moved in the underbrush, pulling her out of her thoughts. She jumped back, startled, and yelped as the ground seemed to give way beneath her and she fell back. She tumbled head over heels down the shallow slope before landing with a wet splat in a shallow pit.
She sat up with a groan of disgust as she felt the thick mud soaking into her clothes, wetting her skin. Druid looked down at her from the tree.
“You’re lucky it’s not quicksand,” Druid said, his voice a little wry. “Are you hurt?”
Sirona’s face burned, “No… Just muddy.”
Druid shrugged and floated down to her, offering her his hand, “Well, let me check to be sure.”
She nodded and took his hand. She lifted out of the mud and the mud peeled off of her leaving her clean as he pulled her close and floated them back to steady ground. The scent of the tree, a bit musky and warm, clung to his clothes and filled her nose. She found herself turning her face into his chest and sighing in comfort. She pulled back as her feet reached the ground a little embarrassed that she was sniffing him.
He smelled more earthy than Arawn who smelled like clean wind and freshwater. Her lips twitched thinking of the two men. Arawn had an ethereal beauty about him and an unnaturally sensual presence. Everything about him seemed created to pull her into him.
She supposed that was what made him a god.
On the other hand, Druid was so solid and visceral that he pulled her attention. His mysterious nature and his presence kept her curious about him.
She shook her head, trying to shake the thoughts off. Daydreaming had been how she ended up in the pit, and it was rude to compare two men like that. Arawn made it clear that he found her attractive, but that didn’t mean much of anything. Druid had said he wanted companionship, but that could just mean a friendship.
And was now really the time to be considering romance? How long had it been since her father’s head and been dropped at her feet and she’d had to leave everything she’d ever known behind?
“You seem distracted, Sirona,” Druid said and chuckled. “Should I ask or guess what is on your mind?”
She crossed her arms, “I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
“So, it is a who, then.” Druid said, “You need not feel self-conscious about it. Arawn has that effect on many.”
How many? Sirona winced at the odd sense of possessive jealousy that went through her mind with the question.
She’d just met the man. It was ridiculous to have those sorts of feelings about him.
“He has an allure to man. It’s powerful, given what he is, but the tenants of his cult are the same tenants he lives by.”
Sirona frowned, mulling over the words.
She thought of the old woman and the people in the town all saying Arawn’s will. Druid hummed, picking flowers and putting them aside as she thought about it. While he didn’t say it outright, it was pretty clear that Druid was trying to warn her.
Arawn was a god who gave nothing and simply took his worship as was due. He believed in things happening as they would. It reminded her a little of the conversations between knights she would over here when they spoke of sleeping with random women.
Was Arawn like that?
Was she acting like a tittering servant girl, swept away by a handsome knight’s words?
She grimaced at the thought and crouched down beside Druid to pick wolfsbane flowers as carefully as she could as she tried to put thoughts of Arawn out of her mind.
Whether he showed up again or not, she didn’t have to pine away waiting for him or think anything more about it. She didn't have to get swept up in it.
"How can you tell the difference?” Sirona asked, watching Druid separate wolfsbane flowers from the other flowers.
It was easy for her as she saw the difference in colors and shapes, but could he see that? She was pretty sure that he couldn’t see color.
“Well, wolfsbane is white,” Sirona frowned looking down at the blue-purple flower. “And daffodils are red.”
Sirona shook her head with a chuckle, “Perhaps they look that way to you, but wolfsbane flowers to the non-divine eye are blueish purple. Daffodils are white and yellow.”
He held up a daffodil and hummed, “Well, I recognize the irony of a blind man learning colors.”
“Also, I saw no blue squashes behind your house.”
Druid laughed, “Well, perhaps we will have to take a tour together, so we know what each other are talking about.”
Sirona laughed as they gathered the flowers and headed back to his home. Sirona wondered if the colors Druid saw meant something that helped him navigate the world and if one day, she’d just know what he meant when he described something.
It felt far more stable and intentional than Arawn’s will.