Chương 94: Chapter 4: A Shared Burden - Part I

For a long while, none of us spoke. The Silverwood whispered softly overhead, its leaves dancing with the night breeze while moonlight spilled through the canopy in shifting patches of silver. Somewhere beyond the grove, an owl called into the darkness before silence reclaimed the forest once more. It was a comfortable silence. Not one demanding to be filled.

Lorcan remained seated beside me, one hand resting absently upon a broad root while his gaze wandered across the cottages nestled beneath the Silverwood's branches. Warm light glowed from their windows. Laughter drifted faintly through the night air where the children had finally settled after another evening of endless energy. He smiled.

"They remind me of home." I followed his gaze.

"Yes, they do." Neither of us needed to explain what we meant. After a moment, Lorcan let out a slow breath.

"I've spoken far more than I intended."

"I didn't mind listening."

"I know. I'd forgotten what it was like to speak with someone who understands. You listened as though none of it surprised you." I looked down at my hands.

"Some griefs sound the same, even when the stories are different." Lorcan studied me in silence. Then, carefully, he asked, "You never told me..." His voice remained gentle, almost hesitant.

"... which Circle did you belong to?" The question settled between us. For a heartbeat, I simply stared at the Silverwood's roots disappearing into the earth beneath my feet. There had been a time when speaking the name aloud had felt impossible. Now, it still hurt but it no longer felt like reopening a wound.

"Elarion." The single word left my lips almost as a whisper. Lorcan's head turned sharply toward me, genuine surprise crossed his face.

"Elarion?" I nodded.

"We fell seven years before you." The color drained from his expression.

"I thought..." He stopped himself.

"I thought no one survived."

"So did I." The night grew impossibly still. Lorcan looked back toward the Silverwood, his thoughts clearly racing.

"Elarion..." he murmured quietly.

"I remember hearing stories when I was still an apprentice." His eyes never left the ancient branches overhead.

"They said your Circle tended one of the oldest Silverwoods still standing."

"They did." He glanced toward the young Silverwood growing nearby, its slender trunk reaching upward beneath the shelter of the Heartwood's immense canopy.

"This one came from there?" I smiled faintly in agreement.

"I carried it with me." His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"For all these years?"

"It was the only piece of home I could save." Lorcan stepped closer to the young tree, reaching out as though afraid even touching it might disturb something sacred. His fingertips brushed gently across one of its leaves.

"It survived."

"So did we." The words escaped before I had truly thought about them. Lorcan looked back at me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then a quiet laugh escaped him.

"I suppose we did. I've spent forty years searching for a place that no longer exists."

"When Elyrion confirmed my suspicion about a new Heartwood awakening, I came hoping to find answers." A faint smile touched his lips.

"I didn't expect to find a home." He looked at me then. There was no uncertainty in his expression. Only quiet resolve.

"I know this is your grove." He hesitated only briefly.

"But... if you'll have me..." His gaze drifted toward the Heartwood.

"... I'd like to remain. Not for a few days but for as long as you'll allow." For a heartbeat, I simply stared at him, forty years. Forty years believing himself the last of his kind. I understood exactly what that question had cost him.

"You don't need my permission." Lorcan frowned slightly. I rested a hand against the Heartwood's trunk.

"The grove isn't mine. It belongs to those who choose to protect it." Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A breeze stirred the canopy above us. I smiled.

"If this is where you wish to stay. Then I have only one thing to say, welcome home." For a long moment, Lorcan said nothing. Then he laughed. A quiet laugh. The kind that escaped before a man realized he was smiling.

"I'd forgotten what those words felt like." The sound drew Elyrion's attention from where he stood a short distance away, quietly watching the stars through gaps in the canopy. The elf looked between us before allowing himself the smallest of smiles.

"I take it introductions have become unnecessary."

"They have," Lorcan replied. Elyrion inclined his head.

"Good." He stepped closer, resting one hand against one of the Heartwood's weathered bark.

"I had wondered whether I should leave at first light."

"And now?" I asked.

"I believe..." His gaze lifted toward the immense branches overhead.

"... I would like to remain for a few days." Lorcan raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you preferred wandering." The elf smiled faintly.

"I do. But places such as this do not awaken twice within a lifetime." He looked toward me.

"If you'll have me." I nodded without hesitation.

"You've already done more for the druids than I can repay." Elyrion inclined his head once more.

"Then I shall stay." I rose from the Silverwood's roots, brushing the moss from my robes.

"We should tell the others." Lorcan stood beside me.

"I suppose they'll have questions."

"They usually do." Together, the three of us made our way through the moonlit canopy toward the warm glow spilling from the cooking fire. The warmth of the cooking fire greeted us long before we reached the clearing. The reheating of the evening meal had already begun, and the familiar scents of fresh bread, roasted vegetables, and herb stew drifted through the cool night air.

Beneath the Silverwood, the others had gathered around the long wooden table Garrick had built only a few days earlier, their conversation carrying easily through the grove. It was Ciara who noticed us first.

"There you are," she called, looking up from the bowl she was placing before Aine.

"I was beginning to wonder if Elyrion had decided to steal our Grovekeeper." Her smile faltered as she noticed the young man walking beside us.

"... And it seems he wasn't the only one." The conversation around the table gradually faded. Curious eyes turned toward the stranger. Aine looked from Lorcan to Elyrion, then back again.

"I thought Kaelen left with one elf and one squirrel."

"So did I," Eammon muttered. Garrick leaned casually against one of the posts supporting the canopy roof, his expression calm but watchful.

"Friend?" I nodded.

"Friend." The tension that had begun to settle over the gathering eased almost immediately. I stepped aside, gesturing toward the young man beside me.

"This is Lorcan." Lorcan inclined his head respectfully.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you." Aine frowned thoughtfully.

"I've never seen you before."

"You have." The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Six puzzled expressions turned toward me. Lorcan gave me a sideways glance.

"You weren't planning on easing them into it?"

"I don't think there's an easy way." A faint smile crossed his face.

"I suppose not." Without another word, he closed his eyes. Mana stirred gently around him. Where a young man had stood only moments before, a familiar red squirrel landed lightly upon the table's edge. Aine gasped, Eammon's mouth fell open. Ciara blinked twice before laughing in disbelief.

"The squirrel?" Lorcan flicked his tail once. Then, just as smoothly, the squirrel dissolved into drifting strands of mana, reforming into the young druid standing exactly where he had been. Silence lingered for a heartbeat. Then Aine pointed accusingly.

"You stole my hazelnuts before going towards the grove!" Lorcan looked genuinely apologetic.

"I was hungry."

"You could have asked!"

"I wasn't certain squirrels were expected to." That finally broke the silence. Even Garrick let out a quiet chuckle.

"I suppose that's fair." Ciara shook her head, still smiling.

"I leave the grove for one afternoon and suddenly we're entertaining shape-changing squirrels."

"I prefer druid," Lorcan replied. That drew everyone's attention back to him.

"Druid?" Aibell repeated. Lorcan nodded.

"I belong..." He paused, correcting himself with a small smile.

"I belonged to another Circle." The choice of words wasn't lost on anyone. I rested a hand against the back of one of the empty benches.

"Lorcan has spent many years wandering. Elyrion found him several weeks ago." I nodded towards the elf.

"And tonight he asked if he could remain here." A brief silence settled over the table. It wasn't uncomfortable, only unexpected. I smiled.

"I accepted." Lorcan looked almost embarrassed by the attention now focused upon him.

"I've wandered for a long time," he admitted quietly.

"Long enough to forget what it feels like to stay anywhere." His gaze moved around the gathering.

"When Elyrion spoke of another living grove, I came hoping to find answers, anything really." His smile softened.

"I found considerably more than that." No one spoke immediately. Then Ciara leaned forward, holding out her hand.

"Welcome home." Lorcan stared at her for a moment before accepting it.

"Thank you." One by one, the others echoed the sentiment. Garrick clasped his forearm with a firm nod.

"If Kaelen trusts you, that's enough for me." Aibell's smile was bright enough to rival the lanterns hanging beneath the canopy.

"I've always wanted to meet another druid." Lorcan laughed.

"I've always wanted to meet another one too." Eammon looked between Kaelen and Lorcan with growing excitement.

"So, there are two druids now?"

"You're forgetting the squirrel," Aine corrected immediately, pointing toward the Silverwood.

"I am not a squirrel."

"You were."

"I temporarily resembled one."

"That's still being a squirrel." The argument continued as everyone found their seats once more. Even Elyrion, who had quietly observed the exchange from the edge of the clearing, allowed himself a faint smile before accepting the bowl Ciara handed him. For a little while, conversation drifted easily around the table.

Lorcan spoke of distant forests without naming places, Garrick questioned him about surviving alone for so many years, while Aine insisted upon knowing whether squirrels truly hid every nut they collected or simply forgot where they buried them. Lorcan refused to answer. Claiming it was 'a closely guarded secret.' By the time laughter settled once more beneath the Silverwood's branches, the stranger who had walked into the grove only minutes earlier no longer felt like a stranger at all.