Title: Rebirth

Quote: “The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.”

Characters: Ailee

Word Count: 4655

                A hundred years and more would never be enough time for Yejin to find a place without having to worry for her life.  The era was wrong and the people too afraid of what they could not know.  This was true, even now.  She could hear them hunting her, scurrying through the forest like bloodhounds, their voices calling and echoing off the trees that would not give her position away.  They should have had other concerns to focus on.

                Stifling another sigh of annoyance, she swiped her twig laden hair over her shoulder, catching a flash of auburn color gleaming in the ray of sun that snuck through the foliage.  Earthy, brown eyes glanced up and she reveled in the warmth on her skin while a smile pulled at her lips, turning up slightly.  “Time to move again,” she whispered as if to herself before her fingers carded through the fur of the creature at her feet.

                Arvin perked his large ears up and turned a dainty, orange and white face at her, barking once softly.  The fluffy tail of the fox swayed from side to side and he moved in a swift circle, attention swinging outwards as he heard the people in the forest as well.  They were closer now, but it didn’t matter.  So long as Yejin was in the woods and did not wish to be seen, she wouldn’t be.  And that safety extended to her companion as well.

                “Come.  A force approaches,” she murmured, looking over her bare shoulder in the opposite direction of the village.

                Dranalian Village was nestled in the middle of the Dranal Forest, a place reputed to be filled with game and sometimes strange happenings.  They lacked for little, but when times became hard, rumors flowed like river water and the whisper of a demon in the forest solidified into fact to every villager within.  It had happened before and it would likely happen again.  But this was her home and however misguided the villagers were, they were also her charges.

                Turning on her uncovered feet, the loam of the forest floor provided padding for Yejin to walk upon and the vines and trees in her path crawled out of the way, seamlessly knitting into an impenetrable web at her back.  Despite the lack of clothes on her person, the temperature never bothered her here.  Free from the confines of villager ‘approved’ attire, she could feel the wind on her skin, understand the nature of the woods and those within, and sense changes no other would be capable of noticing.  For Yejin was a druid, twice born – once from a human mother and again from the womb of mother earth – and she was gifted, or cursed, with the blessings of nature.

                Though she appeared as a woman in early adulthood, she was far older than any villager living, and as such, felt a particular responsibility for them when she heard the trees whisper of a fell force making its way towards their home.  Calling on the wild power at her command, Yejin fell forward onto all fours, feeling soft earth beneath her small paws as her nose twitched and her white tipped, orange tail swayed to and fro.

                “Let’s go, Arvin,” she yipped, nosing at her comparably sized companion.  “We have work to do.”

                Forestry blurred in their peripheral as the vulpine pair sprinted through the underbrush and growth.  Even in animal form, the trees made way and allowed them both passage without struggle.  At least until they approached the edge of the woods where a new sensation affronted her.

                Resistance.

                From the forest itself.  It made her pause and she stopped with one paw raised up, sniffing the air carefully.  There were people nearby.  Many of them.  And the smell of one familiar with magic drifted close in turn, the scent sharp and acrid in her nose.  Something was different about it: wrong.

                Beside her, Arvin whined, sensing it too.  A glance over showed his ears lying back and his shoulders hunched, nervous or afraid.  Yejin sidled closer and nuzzled him reassuringly before she sent him off, aware he would be no help to her here.  Nor did she need him.  He was a favored companion and useful at times, but not the bravest of allies.  She would rather have him afraid and safe than hurt or killed for her insistence that he join her when he was ill suited to such tasks.

                Magic coiled within once more and the world shifted as Arvin scurried off, his tail flashing in the woods.  Yejin stood upright on two feet and placed her hand upon the nearest tree, sensing uncertainty and worry within.  Whatever was coming, the forest did not know how to react either.  Seeking another approach, the druid took to the air in a flurry of black feathers.  The canopy peeled away to allow her passage as a raven, flapping into the sunny sky that was losing ground to the encroaching clouds following the mass of people at the edge of the woods.

                An army.  What was an army doing here?

                The cluster of men at the front drew her attention when one shouted something guttural and pointed at her intently, immediately setting her feathers on end.  He knew she was no normal bird.  At a small gesture from his hands, she felt the magic around her pull tight, as if someone was trying to unravel the fabric of the weaving holding it together.  The smell of wrong magic intensified and she knew what he was.

                A shaman.  Leading an army.

                While Dranalian Village was likely of no import to the encroaching horde, they would probably be fair game to the invaders as they continued to burn and march their way towards Highsport, the larger city beyond her village.  Smoke clogged her sense of smell and she glared darkly at the shaman who seemed perturbed at his inability to subjugate her power when she refused to transform at his command.

                With another guttural cry and a gesture at the man beside him, new forces were levied against.  While Yejin was more than capable of holding her own magically, arrows were another matter entirely.  Especially in her current form.  Fletching brushed against her body when the projectile missed, grazing her enough to send the druid fleeing back into the safety of the woods.  She threw herself to the ground with as much haste as she could muster, shedding feathers for fur in a heartbeat.

                “I must warn them,” she spoke to herself, striding through the forest, wearing the guise of her fox companion.  Arvin was nowhere to be found, but she did not need his presence.  It would have been a comfort, though she had lost companions enough to know they were but fleeting friends in temporary bodies.  As such, solitude and the spirit of nature kept her company most, but still…

                She was human after all.  That fact sent her to be among them, even when she knew it might result in their turning on her.  Witch.  Demon.  Enchantress.  All were titles she had worn and only the eldest among the villagers understood her true purpose anymore, but their voices grew weaker every generation and it was left to her to carry the torch.

                Yejin had to keep them safe.

                That was her task assigned by Mother Nature when she took on the mantle of the druid.  She did not understand it any better now than she had before, but it was what she would do to the best of her meager ability.

                Human voices rose up from the woods the closer she got to the village and they were all familiar to her.  She did not pause to greet them, knowing they would only try to ensnare her current form.  Yejin needed to speak to the elder.  He might yet listen to what she had to say.  Bypassing the search party seeking her demise as the demon at fault for their current woes, she slunk to the edge of the Dranal Forest.

                Magic sang in her blood and fur fell away to become uncovered flesh once more.  Clothed only in her lengthy hair, Yejin stepped from the woods, appearing in the midst of the village as if by magic.

                Her entrance was not unnoticed.

                “The witch is here!” shouted a wide-eyed Seyong, the young man stepping away without shaking his black hair out of his face.  It took him a fraction of a breath to realize she was unclothed before his pallor shifted to a rather interesting shade of pink and he stumbled gracelessly.

                There they went with those titles again.  Yejin stifled a sigh and pulled her shoulders back as she lifted her chin proudly.  One brow rose as she continued to regard the boy who was not yet a man, taking note of a handful of villagers running to join him after the startled announcement.  “I must speak with Elder Park,” she stated simply, striding forward with certainty that belied her lack of confidence in the newest generation.

                Hurried movement from within the village set her hair on end and Yejin paused when more frightened men and women rushed to gather around her.  Their hands clutched simple, makeshift weapons.  Few were skilled with such arms, their hunters were already in the woods after all, but even a blind man could get lucky if he swung often enough.  The druid paused with her hands partially raised, eyeing the villagers with irritation.

                “Stand aside,” she murmured simply, brooking no argument.

                Feet shifted uncertainly and hands readjusted their grips, but none moved.  By the tension in the air, it was impossible to know just what they might do and Yejin felt all the more vulnerable for it.  They probably wouldn’t kill her outright, though she wasn’t positive.

                “Wait!” a strong voice rang out, clear and confident, if somewhat diminished by age.  All villagers present stalled, tense and nervous but used to the sound of that voice.

                Yejin’s head turned to follow the sound, and only a handful of those around her did the same.  But she smiled when she noticed who approached.  “Micky,” she called, relaxing marginally as the tall, aged man made his way to the circle, nudging aside those in his way before they closed the circle behind him.  The years had begun to turn his black locks gray and added wrinkles to his handsome face, but the youthful smile was still there when he turned amused, dark eyes upon her.

                “Long as it been since you’ve called me that, Yejin,” he nodded in acknowledgement, to the surprise of those gathered.

                “Long has it been since you vis-” she began to counter before a quick gesture from his hand called for her silence.  Yejin paused, dipping her head with a coy smile, and waited for him to say his peace.

                It was clear the villagers didn’t know how to feel about the situation by the way they continued to grip to their weapons.  Their eyes darted between the druid and Elder Park quickly, obviously nervous.  “The season has not been kind this year,” he began, bringing the rest of the villagers into the conversation.  Mutterings began almost immediately, echoing the sentiment as they threw quiet blame at Yejin in turn.

                “I am aware,” she bowed in quiet acknowledgement.  “Mother Nature gives and takes as is her way,” she added to the anger of the villagers.  Their expressions darkened, seeing little more than an attempt to escape blame.

                Elder Park silenced them with a wave of his hand and a scathing glare that made many step back.  His ire was difficult to raise, but none wished to experience it firsthand.  “Aye.  So what is it that brings you to our doorstep?” he inquired, gesturing at the rest of the village.

                “An army approaches,” Yejin stated simply, wasting no time.

                That startled all present and their anger shifted to uncertainty and nervousness; a demon, witch creature in the woods was one thing: an army another.  “Are you sure?” Elder Park asked with a critical gaze that swung around the group, the question meant for them more than for Yejin.

                The side of quirked into a lopsided smile and she nodded.  “I flew above the trees to confirm.”  Her eyes fell upon those present, sliding from one side of the circle to the other calmly, though they reacted as expected: with signs against evil and murmured prayers or protection.  Whispers of ‘Demon,’ and ‘Witch,’ sprang from their lips and Yejin answered.  “Druid.”  A simple statement of fact with no doubt in her voice.

                “Can you not keep them from the forest?” Elder Park murmured, stepping closer to bridge the distance between them, setting up an invisible wall so the villagers would not act rashly.

                “Not with a shaman at their lead,” she shook her head, upsetting the hair covering her and revealing more of her person than most were comfortable with.  The sight invited further mutterings though Micky glanced down with the barest of appreciative smiles.

                “I see,” he hummed softly, focusing on the moment at hand.  “I would speak with you in private,” he murmured, gesturing at his back for ropes with which to bind her.  Quick to make up for losing face earlier, Seyong was the first to react as he placed the requested strands in the older man’s hand.  “For your protection,” Elder Park whispered so that Yejin might hear him.

                She regarded him for a short moment before extending her upturned hands for him to ‘tie’ up.  They both knew she could change shape out of them at will but the obvious sign of her being detained seemed to put the other villagers at ease.  At least somewhat.  It would be of more use to them if the people were comfortable with the force heading their way.

                Quietly, as a captive in their midst, Yejin allowed herself to be guided with Elder Park at her side, one hand resting gently against her as he moved her along.  The rest of the present villagers shadowed them as they made their way to the Elder’s hut.  “You may set a guard if you wish,” he assured the others before opening the door for Yejin.  They heard quiet assent and mutterings again but no one challenged him.  Yet.  There would be time for that later.

                “They are young and fearful,” Yejin shook her head as she patiently waited for Micky to shed the ropes on her wrists.

                “And hard of hearing,” he confirmed with furrowed brows, his lips pursed at the admission while he removed the bindings with ease.

                “Such is the way of men.  You weren’t so different in your younger years,” she reminded him gently, brushing the backs of her fingers against his cheek in a fond caress.

                Micky gave her a small smile and looked away.  “I had a good teacher.  She does not appear for them though.”

                “I’m here now,” Yejin explained simply, regarding the older man with calm, level eyes.  “I know you cannot convince them to move in time.  Or that there will be much left to return to, even if you could,” the druid explained with a helpless shrug.

                “Nor can we fight an army,” he chuckled dryly, brushing off the brown sleeves of his shirt in a nervous gesture as his gaze scanned the interior – a place of memory and life, filled with memorabilia and what bits of furniture that made living more comfortable.

                “No,” Yejin agreed with a sad shake of her head.  The stormy look on his face troubled her, for it bespoke of a question he would not say.  “What would you ask of me, Micky?” she inquired, clasping his hand in both of hers.

                The old man looked up with memory filled eyes.  “When we were younger, I saw you do many things, Yejin,” he whispered in quiet awe.  “Things that should have been impossible.”  She nodded encouragement and he moved his hand to cover hers in turn.  “I would have you save this village.  If it was in your power,” he swallowed, pulling his shoulders back as he offered a waning smile.

                Yejin closed her eyes and bowed her head slightly.  “Aye,” she breathed.  “You know what you ask?” she whispered without looking up.

                “I think so,” he admitted with quiet pain in his voice.  The air grew heavy around them and Micky stepped close so that he could press his lips against the top of her head tenderly.

                Yejin inhaled slowly and called power to her once more.  It unfolded from within, changing her form swiftly so that her human guise fell away, leaving her as a bird at his feet.  She met his eyes as he looked down at her with her wings mantled.  ‘Be well,’ she chirped, knowing he would not understand the language.

                “Mother Nature watch over you,” he blessed anyway, waving one hand in parting.

                Yejin squawked once and jumped up, flapping hard enough to send her towards the ceiling.  Thatched material fell away as she ran into it full speed, showering bits of debris down on the elder.  Cries erupted around the village when she emerged, black and gleaming in the sunlight.  The clouds had not yet reached them for they followed the army, heralding death with their arrival.  Crying out in challenge, Yejin set her sights upon the shifting trees in her domain, feeling their confusion and reluctance with every flap of her wings.

                The forest spoke when she landed within it, setting herself directly ahead of the encroaching horde.  Her trees knew not how to react but the shaman was powerful and his magic was strong.  They shifted for the power of his will and the strength of his command, opening the path for the army at his back.

                Yejin did not try to stop him.  She asked the trees to move away and sat down cross legged on the forest floor, taking a deep breath so that she might meditate instead.  Vibrations through the ground let her know of the approaching force.  The tense energy in the trees warned of the anger and ferocity they brought with them.  Fleeing creatures told the tale of violence and danger.  But seated upon the ground, connected with the spirit of nature, Yejin felt none of it herself.  There was only the peace and tranquility granted by the strength of her goddess.

                Brown eyes fluttered open, flickering with an earthly power in their depths.  The pupils dilated and narrowed suddenly when the trees moved away at last, revealing the army at her front.  “Stop,” she called, her voice resonating with power.

                In the front, the fur and bone covered shaman slammed his staff into the ground and snarled something at her, though the language was unfamiliar.  Power rippled through the ground, sending traces of it over her skin like ants.  She shivered once and summoned strength again, steeling herself when her skin changed at the command.  Craggy planes rose and the flesh tone bled away to become brownish gray instead.  Roots sank into the ground, further connecting her to the earth.

                The gnarled shaman tried to command a change with his strength, but the earth under Yejin’s domain refused, lying dormant and stubborn.  He raged at her from afar and tried to come closer, though vines rose to grab at his ankles, targeting those nearest him in turn.  Sharp weapons made short work of them but more resistance came as trees answered Yejin’s call, slow and sluggish, but inevitable in their approach.

                Yowling this time, the shaman shook his betokened staff and set his will against hers.  The trees slowed but his strength was little in comparison to hers when connected with the earth itself.  Yejin was caught off guard and startled when an arrow sank into her chest, thunking into her bark-like skin ineffectively.  Two more followed when the first failed to provoke a reaction and she looked up from the metal headed prongs.

                “Away with you,” she growled, calling upon the forest to react before she noticed the shaman handing the archer at his side another arrow with a peculiar gleam.  “Oh no,” she breathed, fairly certain she knew what it was: cold iron.

                The shaman’s mouth turned into a cruel leer and Yejin braced herself, calling upon all the power at her command.  She closed her eyes when the archer pulled the bow taught.  Energy in the earth sang and spread out from under her, infusing the forest with her will.  A bow twanged.  The arrow whistled.

                Yejin gasped and fell back.  Overhead, clouds tried to block out the sun as the army roared as one, eager to continue onward.  The ground vibrated with hundreds of feet and though she was completely flat against the surface, Yejin felt as if she was falling.  Down and down and down… into the arms of Mother Nature herself.  With one final, painful breath, the druid closed her eyes and surrendered to the ground that swallowed her whole.

                With the way clear, the shaman raised his staff high and roared for the army to continue onward.  Over the place where the body of the druid had been felled, he guided his men as trees fell away from his presence.  They felt different though.  Yes, they were moving, but not because he commanded it this time.  It was as if something was still guiding them.  It didn’t matter either way.  So long as nothing stopped them, the forest was inconsequential.

                Except, the trees in front of him surged together all of a sudden, barring his passage.  Unsettled voices at his back made him turn around to see that part of his army had been cut off, leaving him alone with the vanguard only.  Shouting in confusion, the shaman turned and made his way through broad shoulders and hackneyed leather armor, shoving warriors aside to get a better view himself.  Quiet mutterings sprang up from the men as they made signs against evil and looked around in quiet horror.  The clouds above continued to hide the sun, giving the surrounding forest an eerie appeal.

                The voices of hundreds of creatures emerged as a horrific cacophony, assailing the invaders from all sides.  Wood creaked and groaned, giving the semblance of voices from the trees in turn.  Leaves rustled and shook despite the lack of wind…  And all the while, the shaman tried to stop it all.  In the center of their ring, he slammed the staff down, right where the upset soil of the druid’s fallen body was, stabbing the end into the loose earth.

                It stuck fast and became impossible for him to retrieve.  Power hummed through the conduit and into his arm.  The shaman couldn’t open his hand to let go.  With a sharp cry, he tried to yank himself away but found his feet rooted to the earth.  Literally.

                In horror, the men at his command fell back with wide eyes and pale complexions.  Their voices rose in denial as they tried to flee through the woods and were repelled.  Screams rose up when the immovable wall shifted inward, inching forward and eating the space of the clearing as they moved.  Men fell underfoot and were consumed by the forest, their bodies reclaimed by the earth.  Blades flashed against trunks as the invaders turned their ire upon the forest itself, but vines and branches swung, entangling those who dared transgress.

                Bound to the staff, the shaman howled and raged.  His voice turned to horror when his implement began to change in turn.  The wood of the handle grew fingers that wrapped around his wrist and the shaft thickened, growing outwards and into a humanoid form.  Legs extended into the earth and the shifting figure loomed over the shaman, holding fast with one hand.  A vaguely feminine face surveyed those remaining and waved her free hand towards the encroaching trees, stalling their progress.

                Immediate silence descended, loud in the aftermath.  Frightened men huddled together, their discarded weapons lying on the ground as they prayed to whatever gods might help them.  Only the shaman continued to fight, yelling curses and willing his power to defeat the demon looming over him.

                Like a mother embracing an errant child, the figure folded the shaman into her bosom with her free arm and curled over him, engulfing the man in a wooden cocoon.  His scream died abruptly, cut off from the outside as wood continued to shift and mold, solidifying slowly into an oblong boule sprouting above the ground.  With his disappearance, the clouds above fell back, allowing sunlight to return once again.

                Curious now, the men nearby regarded the anomaly intently, reaching for their discarded weapons.  All jumped and stepped back when the boule split with an echoing crack where a single line appeared on the top.  Cloth-like petals flowed up through the crack, crimson color peeling back and out to further widen the opening.  A second layer of petals rose up, tightly curled around something emerging from the heart of the strange flower.

                Unwinding fluidly from around the center, crimson petals fluttered into place, curling up to create the barest of walls that revealed a figure cupped in the middle.  Auburn hair blended to lush green strands at the ends; bare skin gave way to patches of smooth bark and intricate markings etched into the flesh.  Earthen brown eyes fluttered open to reveal glimpses of a deeper power stirring within.

                The woman sat up and regarded the remains of the army.  A flower shaped scar marked her chest where an arrow hit her, but she paid it no mind.

                The men regarded her with no small amount of fear but the druid merely waved her hand at the ring of trees, creating an opening for them to see through.  On the other side, the remains of the army stood, untouched but frightened and lost.

                “Go home,” she commanded, setting her sights upon those nearest her.  When they tried to retrieve their weapons, the earth suddenly swallowed the blades and they yelped in fear, running away swiftly.

                She watched them go from her vantage and then felt them leave by the sound of the earth singing in her veins and the whispers from the trees.  With another wave of her hand, the forest moved back to the way it should be, spreading out evenly and settling back into place as if there had never been an upset.

                But it was more peaceful than before.  New power stirred.  A druid’s blessed power.

                The druid slid from the flower, her hand resting upon the nearest petal – not a rose but not of her making either.  She let it go, and returned to Dranal Village.  Trees rustled out of her way and the villagers present clustered together uncertainly, fear and awe in their eyes.  Elder Park rushed forward to see her first and foremost, the light from the setting sun spearing the druid perfectly as it came in over the canopy of the forest.

                “Yejin?” he asked once, taking in her changed appearance.

                “Ailee,” she smiled warmly, the spirit of nature embodied in her presence.  “Twice born of the Mother,” she explained, touching her fingertips to her chest where the flower scar was.

                “Mother Nature forgive me,” Elder Park murmured, his expression running through a myriad of emotions.

                “She does,” Ailee promised gently.  “You are safe now,” she bowed lightly, allowing her gaze to fall upon all those present.

                “Thank you,” Elder Park breathed shakily, giving a watery smile as he stepped closer with his hand extended towards her.

                “Thank you,” the druid beamed back, clasping his hand in both of hers while the grace of the Mother poured from her like a soothing balm, touching every villager with the love and acceptance she now embodied.