Fallen Druid

[Noa]

Lunarhound
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Posts: 17
(4/3/02 8:18 pm)
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((I finally decided to post something here. I was bored.  I realize that my writing isn't exactly the best there is, but I do what I can. This isn't meant as a background or any sort of continuing epic... Just something I thought I'd throw up for fun, since I've written very little about my character. Sorry for the corny title, but I really couldn't think of anything else to call this.

Davidius))

Davidius closed his eyes, extended his palm, and concentrated. Three minutes later, he opened his eyes and stared at his hand as if it were the most wretched thing in existence.

"I can't." he said.

"You can" Berovis answered, taking his student's hand in his own. "I've seen you do it countless times."

Davidius turned to glare at the old man but, as always, couldn't manage it. It was impossible to glare effectively at the kindly, weathered old face.

"That was before." Davidius said, removing his hand from his teacher's grasp and turning away from him. He might have at least been able to feel properly angry if the gaze had held even the slightest amount of pity, but the only thing there had been genuine sympathy. "I can't reach it anymore. It's like it's coming to me through a strainer. I can't do it."

"You can" Berovis said again. "You're trying too hard. I can feel you trying to grab hold of it and pull with both hands. You know that isn't how it works. Why do you continue to strive for failure?"

"And why do you ask me questions you already know the answer to?" Davidius said, closing his eyes against the tears that always threatened during these recent sessions. "It used to be so easy. I didn't even have to look for it. It was just there, and it wanted me. It doesn't want me anymore."

"Because you don't want it." Berovis said. "Your standing with the Mother has changed, but She still loves you and the work you do for Her. You can't rid yourself of the idea that her love is equivalent to how much power she is willing to bestow upon a follower, and you should know better than this. Your studies have shown you that it isn't true."

"I know it isn't true, Berovis, but I can't help feeling it anyway." Davidius said. "I'm not like the other rangers. I knew her, before. I was beginning to, at least. They've never felt what it's really like. Their magic is just a simple gift, to them. A small blessing. But I was just beginning to understand. It was a part of me, and now I feel as if a piece of my own soul has been ripped away, chewed on, and given back to me, ragged and full of holes. And it's my fault. That's what I really can't get over. I failed her. I have no one to blame but myself."

Davidius leaned against the side of the massive living tree that housed the Surefall Druids and looked out across the glade, saying nothing for a few moments. "I should go back to Qeynos" he said. "I should learn my father's trade, as he wanted."

"He supported your decision to leave" Berovis pointed out, moving to stand beside Davidius and leaning on his staff. "He was very proud of your accomplishments."

"I know, I know" Davidius waved this away. "But he was always disappointed that I didn't consider his own life's work good enough for me, even if he never said so."

"He wanted what you wanted, and was happy for you." Berovis said. "He was a good father."

"He deserved a better son. How could a poor fisherman's boy ever have become so spoiled?"

Berovis chuckled. "Come now, Davidius, let's not have any of that. I'm here for you, as I've always been, but I'll not watch you wallow in self-pity and you were never half as bad as you think you were. As for returning to Qeynos, that's up to you. I won't try to keep you by assuring you that you'll one day be the greatest ranger who ever lived, but you do have potential, and I would miss your company."

Davidius felt a reply spring quickly to mind, but he tossed it aside. Berovis could see through his shallow attempts to fish for compliments, and he had enough sense by now to drop the self-pity act whenever the old man reminded him of this. "Thanks, Berovis." he said. "I appreciate it. And of course you know I'm not going anywhere."

The old man smiled. "I think it's time we ended this for today. Keep trying. It'll come, when you want it to."

Davidius nodded vaguely, still leaning against the tree as his teacher departed in the direction of the guildhouse. After a moment, he held up his hand and looked at it. Closing his eyes, he extended his mind and felt the power there, easily within reach, but muted. Yes, of course Berovis was right, it was still there and he could still touch it. It just... Wasn't like it was before. Every time he had to reach for it consciously, remembering how effortlessly it had once come to him, he was reminded of the failure that had cost him his future as one of Tunare's chosen.

There was a quiet sound and a familiar warm feeling in his arm. When he opened his eyes there were flames dancing on his fingers, his hand burning like the wick of a gas lamp. He waved it this way and that, drawing patterns in the night air that faded before they'd even had a chance to form. After a minute or two, he released his hold on the power and felt it slip back into the earth, taking the fire with it. He looked at the vague outline of his hand for another moment before pushing himself away from the tree and sidling away across the glade, heading for the guildhouse. A good book would be welcome, just now. One that had nothing to do with druids.