The Hunter's Dance

The veil was thin, but not as thin as it once was. He had passed through with a bit of effort to stand at the first Coven's bonfire. As always, he was the first called and as such only received a nod from these witches. 

Anger boiled in his soul, they stood before him dressed in the coats and skin of his animals to adorn their feet and line their cloaks, and yet showed him the least respect of all of his brothers. Did they forget the warmth the rabbit and the fox lost their lives to give them? He wondered why he even blessed these creatures, but then he remembered. The promise. Until the day there was a betrayal of Her family, he would have to be forgiving of their ridiculous nature. 

Thinking of those eyes and the kindly voice of that woman made him glance at her child, the beauty known as Rosalyn. She was the most sincere and gave the most when she danced for him. She did not sing. She didn't have to, the others were raising their voices but her body moved to a different beat and her lips mouthed a different song. He enjoyed her, appreciating every movement of her body as the magic danced over her skin and into the fire, then from the fire to himself carefully. He smiled despite the longing for that magic to pour directly into him, contact with her very soul. Years had passed since a woman gave him that. Long before even Ellowyn had  stormed his lands … the writer of the song her great great great granddaughter was singing now. 

It further soothed his anger, those lyrics were written for him, no other. He glanced behind her to the elder one who had danced for him years before. She was older now but there were still hints of her tremendous beauty. He remembered her as a teenager, still just as pretty now in his eyes.  Speaking of teenagers… where was Rosalyn's daughter? 

As he looked for her, magic from a distance reached for him. There was a gentle begging tone in the magic, a sense of desperation. At first he thought to ignore it but then he felt it. This wasn't that Coven's first song of the evening. They had called his brother before himself. Curiosity caused him to look at his brothers who had joined him here. Both Winter and Harvest nodded at him, ushering him to go just by moving a finger.  He didn't need much more than their understanding. It was imperative they appeared in their three at least once tonight but this was too sweet to ignore.

The Hunter let himself answer their call and be drawn away by the coven who placed importance on him. It had been a long time since he had been anything but the least of his brothers to these people, despite his efforts to keep them alive. Now they called on him after calling for The WinterSmith. Wondering briefly why, he was filled with pride. 

His senses were filled with her as soon as he landed, and yet the voice singing the song was a younger witchling…  perhaps newly accepted to the circle? She was pretty enough, her eyes closed and her hair caught by the fire light. He couldn't wait to see the excitement in her eyes when she found her summoning worked. To be so young and to succeed… it would be a great honor for her. He willed his ears to still, and his body to settle into his traditional empowered pose. His arms crossed and his legs slightly more than hip distance apart to give him the sturdy and powerful appearance. 

Then the music slowed and the sensation in the air changed from the reverence of ritual to pure shock. Her eyes opened and they were filled with fear… her body stopped moving and she tripped over the generic lyrics of Thanksgiving. His eyes swept over the rest of the coven. They were younglings… none of them old enough to hold their own coven rite. He felt his temper begins to boil. The aching loneliness and self mockery surfaced to tear his good mood to shreds of pain and anger. The promise be damned this was beyond forgiveness, he tricked to steal the magic of children. 

"I was out ah hunting, one evening in the thick of harvest, and  I came upon a hunting camp and a man who scorched my soul. My heart caught in my throat and a grin spread across his lips. From my boots and hunting skirt to the tie of my hunting hair I felt the searing from his gaze." A new, female voice began to sing… perhaps purr was a better description of this velvet voice that sang each word in a pleasant cadence with the music. His attention still focused on the girl who deceived him. The Hunter's anger was not easy to appease, at least he didn't think it was. 

Then the cloak falling away from her body, and the waves of auburn hair catching the fire light came to view in the corner of his eye. Her sweet voice drew him in and he began to turn and look at her. She was still singing, her eyes filled with the determination of a Huntress as her magic began to seep into him. Every pour was well aware as the passionate magic filled him. She was a child of fire, he could feel it in the emotional bliss as their souls met for the first time. There was a whirlwind of sensation and the Hunter found himself moving, his body swaying and popping to the same beat she was moving to, their eyes locked. 

Her voice drew his power from him, the Spirit of the Fox within him pleased and making his pleasure clear in the air. The Hunter rounded the fire, face to face with the beautiful creature whose expression and eyes dared him to come nearer yet. He reached out and took her hand, the offering falling from her lips was so much more than that of a normal All Hallows Eve… 

They began to rise, they danced together, spinning and twisting in perfect tandem, his step in being her step out, but their hands never released. The Veil opened and engulfed them both, the sound of the music and the cackle of the fire muted by the thin power that separated time, space, and the universe from one another. 

To the witches at the circle, they could only watch as the Horned Fox rose into the air, taking fair Adalyn with him. Suzan felt a burning in her chest, she had been the one to work this plot and now she was watching as another girl paid for her mistake. The candle's flames danced almost accusatory, devouring their wicks. Wild winds rose, and whipped at the candles, threatening to put out their delicate flames. 

As the song neared its end, the Hunter smiled at the beauty he was guiding further and further into the veil between. Her eyes burned with passion and magic that he wanted nothing more than to taste. The Animalistic lust of the fox burned in his chest, for the woman this girl would soon become. Her lips still formed the lyrics to the song, but they no longer mattered. He leaned in close to her ear. 

"You are mine." he murmured against the soft, sensitive skin there. Her body shivered at the same time that her eyes widened in shock. It was a delicious expression, like a rabbit caught in his snare. What he didn't expect was the slightest touch of fear and a sudden burst of wind in the world below. 

Witches brooms came to swirl just above the ritual fire, the wind from their flight creating a vortex on the ground around the Ritual Fire. the force of those winds caused witches hats to fall, and though Adalyn could not feel it her eyes flicked down, filled with fear then back to his eyes. 

He smiled holding both of her hands gently. 

"There is nothing to fear, your family can not see us." He whispered to her, worried his deep, gruff voice could make this lovely creature timid. 

"Candles." She said the word just as the wind blew out the candles, and the veil began to seal again. He cursed and reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, but the rapid closure of the door closed with a violent shudder. The force separated them with a blow of air and magic that knocked the wind from him. Adalyn wanted to scream, but it was lost in her throat as  she began to fall. 

Without his touch, the magic that held her suspended dissipated and allowed her to plummet toward the fire below. He watched in horror with the witches below, neither able to reach her before she crashed into the fire. Then… the veil healed, and the world's separated. The fire disappeared from the plane where the Hunter hung suspended in the air, but so did Adalyn.

Rosalyn and Faelyn watched in horror as the Veil closed and with it, their Adalyn disappeared. Rosalyn fell to her knees, and screamed in pure agony as her daughter was ripped from her. Her mother knelt and hugged her, trying to calm her grief while her own heart bled. 

"Why… why? It doesn't make sense. She knew better than to dance to a candle flame." Rosalyn whimpered and Pricilla stood beside her tears on her young face. 

"She didn't know about the candles, I'm sorry Miss Rosalyn… I am so so sorry." Priscilla whispered, knowing Adalyn had danced to save her. She had frozen… and very nearly got them all killed. 

"I never should have let her come here. All of you, every girl at this circle listen and listen well. You may have Murdered Adalyn. You are responsible for her fate. Remember that when you dabble with magic beyond your years again." Faelyn warned the gathering. 

"That's not fair, you can't blame us… it's not our fault." Suzan tried to protest but was surprised when the entire coven turned to her, disappointed. 

"Did Adalyn light the candles? She warned us… she told us not to and you did it anyway, Suzan. Who else can be blamed?" Pricilla asked in a sudden burst of anger. The young girl's anger stole the breath from Suzan's lungs. 

"Her fate is in the hands of the Hunter now… let's just pray he reached her in time." Rosalyn replied taking a steadying breath. 

Meanwhile, the Hunter was suspended in the same place, his eyes trained on his hands. Both pale palms were empty and he glared at them as though they had failed him. Her small, soft hands had been in his… her magic had entertained with his own.

He realized with a sinking feeling he had let her fall to harm. Knowing there was little else for him to do, he returned to the home of the Gods. Perhaps his brothers would know what to do. For now, wherever she landed, she was on her own.