Chapter Two

  Last of the Druids

  Gwen held tight to Cailean’s waist as they rode north to the severed mountains. The somewhat warming wind of a hopefully ending winter flowed through her auburn hair as the sun crested along the sky. As they crested a hill, she could see the legendary hold of the Druids in the distance getting closer.

  The base of the Severed mountains had been hollowed out generations before to give shelter and safety to those who practiced the faith of the Goddesses. Great stone pillars lined the entrance to the mountain and the mountain had carved in its face a network of stone staircases that connected the lairs and caverns that every Druid could call home.

  The approached the mountains and Cailean dismounted his horse, he pulled his Ursaling hood from his head and turned to offer Gwen his hand to help her off the steed. He turned to the great mountain before them, “Druids, a Winter Hunter needs your wisdom,” he called out.

  “They’re here, right? You don’t think whatever killed the other hunters, what tried to kill me, you don’t think they would attack the Druids as well, do you?” Gwen asked.

  “The severed mountains are sacred grounds, it was the last piece of the land that the Goddesses touched before the abandon,” Cailean said, “Winter’s evil can’t stand on these grounds,” he reached down and took Gwen’s hand, “You will be safe here, the Druids must be here, I know they are,” he said, leading her to a great carved entrance into the mountains.

  “Hello? Master Druids, the sun blood needs your guidance,” he said as they entered the stone caverns, his voice echoed off the sides of the walls and tumbled through the great stone tunnels, reverberating off the walls and traveling in every direction of the carved out labyrinth of the mountain.

  “The Sun Blood lives, I knew my visions would not lie,” a gravelly voice of an old man reverberated from the back end of the tunnel, Cailean and Gwen looked up as they heard the echo of a wooden walking staff clicking against the ground, coming closer and closer to them. A single Druid made his way from the dark depths of the tunnel and into the face of the mountain where just enough light was able to come in and reveal him to the two.

  He was as old as most of the stories portrayed Druids to be. He wore a simple tweed robes and had a cloak of ever green leaves hanging off his shoulders. He carried a staff that was a deep brown construction of great oak with a bundle of leaves at its apex. He held the Staff at its middle and it was tall enough to reach past his bent-over frame. He walked with a slow and tired gate of an old man with a great grey beard in braids hung low to the center of his chest and swayed back and forth. He was balding with a crown of Thorny leaves around his head. “I haven’t sensed a Winter Hunter’s might in person for a long while, a long while. So glad you’re hear, I had feared the worst,” his voice was that of an old man who had seen many battles, but also many joys. A voice that had seen the darkest times of winter, and the greatest bounties of spring. He let out a laugh as he got closer, “Oh, I can feel it, the Sun Blood, the Sun Blood lives by the Goddesses’ favor, thank you for bringing her, young Winter Hunter,” he came to the two youngsters and groaned as he tried to straighten his arched and bent over back. He let out a great sigh, and Cailean and Gwen could hear the joints of his spine popping as the old Druid tried to stand up straight.

  “Tell me, young Winter Hunter, who are you to make the journey to the Severed mountains and seek the wisdom and council of the most faithful?” the old man said, smiling as he held both hands to his staff to keep his back straight and his legs balanced.

  “My name is Cailean, I’m a Winter Hunter in my first season,” he turned to Gwen, “This is Gwendolyn, daughter of the Giran family, and heir to the Sun Goddess blessing, we’ve come to see that the Spring is found,” he said.

  “Ah, a first season, quite a season you’ve found yourself in I take it,” the old Druid laughed, “I am Gerbil Leafburner, Master study of Goddess Bleania, a tracer of the Sun Blood inheritance, and the last Druid of the Severed mountains,” he smiled wide, he had more than a few teeth missing, and those that remained had seemed to be stained yellow with age and carried a few spots of black.

  “Wait, did you say the last druid? You’re the only one here?” Gwen asked.

  Gerbil laughed again as he gave Gwen a once over, “Oh, you’re definitely Sun Blood, can sense it on you. I may be old, but a Druid's perception only grows with age. I could be blind and still able to tell that you’re of that holy lineage, come here child, let me take a look at you,” he said.

  Gwen let go of Cailean’s hand and stepped forward, “Yes, I am of sun blood, master Druid, my father, my sisters, they’re,” Gwen looked down, felt a lump in her throat and a sting in her heart thinking about her lost family.

  Gerbil reached up and rested a hand on her shoulder, “I’ve felt the sun’s reluctance to shine in this season, truly this has been a trying Winter. You’re here to learn to bring back the Goddess's blessing and end this horrible cold,” he said before turning to Cailean, “Tell me, young Winter Hunter, you were told much about the severed mountains in your training I presume, told about the druids and the ways of those who shepherd man through the blight of winter, I take it you were expecting a grander welcoming?”

  “Master Druid, this girl is the key to bringing the Spring, ending the Winter. This is a trying blight, you speak truly. Someone, something is after her, it's as if all of winter wants her dead. I know it heresy to speak of, but I believe whatever force is hunting her wishes to see a Winter never-ending come to our land again,”

  “This winter has been coming for a long time, the Voice has been pulling strings in our world,” Gerbil said, reaching back to steady himself with both hands on his staff.

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  “The Voice?” Cailean asked.

  “The Voice of Winter, of course,” Gerbil said, “The maddening spirit the Goddesses punished the world of man with dozens of generations ago. After man’s penance, when the Goddesses gave us back their spring, the Voice was dismissed. Gone and never to bother us again, until now it seems,” Gerbil sighed, “The Druids have kept an eye on the Voice, looked with meditation into the deep lair of that hateful spirit, studied the mind of a force that wishes to only destroy and desolate, now the Voice seems to be back, has chosen an avatar for this world. And now Winter is here, a Winter that the Voice hopes will never end. Only a Winter Hunter can stop it,” he turned to Cailean, “You boy, you feel you’re a Winter Hunter up for the task of ending an endless winter?” he asked.

  “He is,” Gwen said, stepping forward, “He’s the bravest Winter Hunter I’ve ever met, he-”

  “Gwen,” Cailean raised his hand, “I am a Winter Hunter, yes, but it's only my first season. That said, while inexperienced, I have seen the force that this Voice as you call it can bring to the world. I’ve brought Gwendolyn here in hopes that the Druids could help us stop it, that you could help us stop it. Are you really the last Druid left in these mountains?” Cailean asked.

  “There's a scant few of us across the lands, becoming a druid is a lost art, the Voice probably knows that, knows that the time of the Druids is nearing its end, which must be why it’s chosen this winter to make its play,” Gerbil said.

  “That can’t be, Druids are our connection to the Goddesses, we need you, you’re too important for there just to be one left, this can’t be happening,” Cailean said as he looked at this singular old man who was seemingly the last connection outside Gwendolyn herself that the people of this land had to the will of the Goddesses.

  “How many boys did you meet who dreamed of the day they could take up the arms of a Winter Hunter? You felt the call yourself, you must know the allure that your profession has for a youngster,” Gerbil said.

  Cailean stayed silent. He was the last person of his profession who could be accused of chasing it for the alleged glories it promised. That said, he did meet his share of boys eager for glory and willing to risk death to carry the proud title of his profession.

  “That’s what I thought,” It was almost as if the Druid could read everything he needed just from the look on Cailean’s face, “And tell me, how many young boys these days dream of toiling away a life of celibacy chanting over fires and panning through endless scrolls and tomes,” Gerbil sighed, “Ours is a dying way, we do what we can because we must. And you, Winter Hunter, do what you must because you can,” Gerbil raised his staff and bashed its end to the ground, “The first Druids, they were the Winter Hunters of old, the ones who rose to fight in the Winter that never ended, they were also the first ones in the Steel Winter. The Dark Stalkers saw our ways of trusting the most holy as a useless endeavor that needed to be cleansed, luckily they were wrong and every generation produced at least a few young men ready to do this in their old age. As for me, I’ve been keeping to my cave, reading and meditating, I’ve seen what the world is becoming. Tell me, of the Dark Stalkers,” he said, looking up from his hunched-over stance to Cailean.

  “Yes, the Dark Stalkers, they’re back. I’ve killed two of them,” Cailean said, “They want Gwen dead, tell me, were these pretenders, or has that blasphemous order truly reformed? Is it true that the Dark Stalkers have come again? I could see one or two, even a scant few pretending to carry that moniker, but if the Dark Stalker faith has truly returned, then it was one of them who killed every hunter in Tycolm, who tried to kill me, did kill me,” Cailean looked down.

  Gerbil smiled, “So, it really is you. The first hunter to survive the Red Lady’s touch,” he reached up and rested his hand on Cailean’s shoulder, on the brand the Red Lady had seared into his skin.

  Cailean looked to his shoulder, to the wise Druid’s blessed hand upon the mark the Red Lady put on him, “Yes, I did see her, she told me I would die, and I did,” Cailean moved his Ursaling coat to the side and moved his shirt, showing the healed stab wound that the Dark Stalker embedded in his gut, “A horde of monsters attacked us, I was able to fight them off, but a Dark Stalker got me between the ribs,” Cailean said.

  Gerbil moved his hand down and felt the wound, “I see, and tell me, what happens when a Winter Hunter crosses blades with Dark Stalker?” he asked.

  “No time to cross blades, he just buried his into me, and with the strength I had left, I crushed his throat with my bare hands,” Cailean said, lowering his shirt.

  “Killing a Dark Stalker? High marks for any Winter Hunter,” he laughed, then sighed, “It seems after generations they’re back, and you may be one of the few who could stop them,” he clicked his staff to the ground again.

  “What do you mean?” Cailean asked.

  “In my visions, I have seen the shadow of the Dark Stalkers grow, they’ve been spreading through the land, killing Winter Hunters, and they have been very effective,” Gerbil shook his head.

  “We can’t survive winter without the Hunters,” Gwen said, “There has to be something Cailean, I, you, something we can do,” Gwen reached to the old man, grabbed his wrist, “You’re a Druid, you say you see things in meditation, this winter will end, right? I can make it end, I have Sun Blood. When I end the winter, will the Dark Stalkers be defeated?” she asked.

  “If you can end the winter,” Gerbil corrected her, “Theres more to ending the winter then just carrying the Sun Blood,” he turned to Cailean, “And you, young Winter Hunter, you’ve killed a Dark Stalker, after such a bad wound, how could you have survived?” he asked, “It seems you have the Sun’s blessing, but a blessing isn’t worth much with steel five inches between your ribs,” he said.

  Cailean sighed, reached down, and found Gwen’s hand, holding it, knowing that it was his prayer to come back to her that really saved him, “We encountered a Unicorn in our travels here, the steed blessed me, healed me, brought me back,” Cailean said, “It seems I still have work in this world, and my work is to find the spring,” he looked down and thought of the deal struck with the Red Lady, how her offer for protection would only last until he could bring Gwen to the Druids until she could find the Spring if they were lucky.

  “In my visions,” Gerbil wrung his staff, “I have seen many Winter Hunters fall this winter,” He looked down, and his face turned sour, “Winter is here, and the order requires a new Hunt Master,” he turned to Cailean, “Perhaps you could do, if you can slay Dark Stalkers like you say if the Sun Kissed looks upon you with favor, and if you’re blessed by the noble Unicorn,” he took his staff and rested its tip on Cailean’s shoulder, “Yes, a new Hunt Master is needed, and you may be the one to give the people living through this winter the hope they need,” he nodded.

  “Me, a Huntmaster, no,” Cailean shook his head, “You’re mistaken, I’ll fight as a Winter Hunter, but I can’t be a Master, I’ve nowhere near enough seasons to hold such a title,” he said, arguing with destiny.

  “You’ve likely seen in this winter more than a Hunter sees in a career,” Gerbil swung his staff and tapped Cailean’s side, on his wound, “You heard the Hunters call, that’s all you need to become a master, that and a season that needs you,” he said.

  Cailean turned to Gwen as she took his hand. She didn’t tell him he could do it, she didn’t even tell him how much she believed in him, she just looked at him and nodded.