The Wandering Traveler

For a second, Osiris panicked in his dazed state. He, however, came to reason that this traveller was not here to harm him. It was apparent that if they wanted him dead, he would have been already.

He felt an increasing blush creep onto his face, ashamed he was caught off guard so easily.

Osiris removed himself from the ground, quickly retrieving his helmet from the grass beside him. After fastening it, he stood and looked toward the stranger who had been silent up until now. She was adorned in a light brown and green cloak. She had a lithe figure that spoke of grace.

Noticing his gaze, the woman turned and spoke in a light but confident tone. "How was your sleep?" Instead of replying instantly, he studied her curiously.

She had a scabbard on her left hip and a smaller sheath on her right. On her back was a staff covered with magic runes that would allow her to cast a plethora of spells at a higher efficiency than usual. At its end, it curved, not unlike a question mark. Within this curve, there was a small green orb; about the same size as an infant's head. Osiris turned toward the woman's face. Two emerald green eyes greeted Osiris's own, studying him.

Finally, Osiris replied, "fine," he paused, "May I ask who you are?" A wariness to his voice.

"I am Sylixis, a wandering druid."

Osiris's eyes widened behind his helmet.

Druids were a race that were very few in numbers. They were only birthed when a large amount of magic gathered into a plant, so much so that they gain consciousness. That plant then must survive its environment and be able to sustain its magical needs. Needless to say, druids are creatures of extreme rarity and also power. The connection they hold with nature allowed them to manipulate any plants around them with magic, beyond what any other species was capable of.

Osiris took a step back. While he was indeed skilled, perhaps even more so than some of the greatest soldiers alive, however, the wrath of a druid was much more like a force of nature than any normal animal or person.

"There is no need to be afraid; I am a traveller like you." The druid said with a calming tone. A sad smile on her face. It seemed like she had encountered others who had reacted the same way Osiris had.

Osiris, realizing his mistake, moved forward. "I am sorry for judging you so soon," Osiris would never say something like this to a knight, however, incredible power required absolute respect. At least that was what he was taught by the slums.

"Your reaction is not an uncommon one," Sylixis said. "Please, come, I have prepared a dish that I hope you will enjoy."

Osiris ventured forward and then sat down, aware that at any moment the earth beneath him could open up and grant him an early death. He was swift to push away that thought, reminding himself of the power of a druid. She could have killed him a thousand times over in his sleep and yet chose not to.

The druid then handed him a wooden bowl and a fork made of oak.

The bowl held an assortment of nuts, roots, mushrooms and lettuce mixed with a dressing. He stared at the meal in front of him which gave off a slightly sweet smell, he was slightly anxious at the thought of poison but felt denying its dish would earn the druids ire.

He looked at the meal, unsure of what to do as he did not feel comfortable removing his helmet in the presence of others. However, he felt that it would be rude to show such apprehension in front of a being that was surely tens or possibly hundreds of years older than he was.

Osiris slowly removed his helmet, watching Sylixis for a reaction. When she smiled at him, he felt something like relief wash over him. Most of those who saw his face moved away or gave him disgusted looks. His face was littered with scars, some were large, some small. Some faded, and some appeared not too old.

He rested his helmet on his side, tempted to put it back on despite the druid's positive reaction.

His slightly curly hair moved in the breeze.

He then took his fork and began to eat. The salad far surpassed his expectations, though his expectations could never be high as he had almost always had a diet consisting of bland vegetables, the occasional fruit as well as meats mixed in occasionally. Of which they were always bland as he had never learned how to cook. The salad had a slight tang, and everything melded together perfectly. It was perhaps the best meal he had eaten since his mother died. Not wishing to eat in silence he decided to speak up. "Earlier, you said you were a wandering druid; I had heard that most druids stuck to one place," Osiris asked

"Yes, most druids do stay in one place. They find comfort in knowing that the magic around them will be able to constantly nourish them." Sylixis said. "I, however, believe that nature must be preserved in all places, not just the places we decide to call home." She paused, "After all, just because one holds a connection with nature does not necessarily make one selfless." She finished.

"I see. Before you said that druids preferred to stay in one place as there was usually enough magic to nourish them, so I presume you don't need to eat as I do?" Osiris said as he pointed out the lack of a bowl in front of Sylixis.

"Yes, you are quite perceptive. Druids only need magic, and freshwater to sustain ourselves." The woman said. Osiris nodded in gratitude for her answer.

Osiris was almost halfway through his salad when Sylixis asked him a question. "Now, I must ask, why have you come so far? We are quite far from any human settlement. Are you perhaps a knight?"

Osiris's right eye twitched in anger. To be compared to a knight was the same as being compared to a worm. Sylixis seemed to notice his rage and quickly spoke. "I'm sorry if I have been intrusive." She said.

"Please excuse my anger, It is not your fault. I am currently under the service of the king and his knights, though I hate them both dearly." He said.

Sylixis looked at him in befuddlement. "If you hate them why do you serve them?"

Osiris stayed silent for some time, unsure of how exactly to answer, worried he may find himself facing the judgment of a druid. "If I had another way out I would take it, however, the kingdom is vast and so are the king's soldiers. In the past, I did what I needed to do to survive, I did what I did in the rage that had consumed me after my mother's death. Some of those things the kingdom did not find... acceptable to say the least. They have hunted me since then. Only recently did they offer to... forget, if I did something for them. So here I am." He sighed, staring toward the ground, unwanting to look up.

"I see it is a heavy topic for you. I am sorry for inquiring." Osiris looked up, surprised, Sylixis only had a slight frown on her face. Perhaps she was pondering the minds of humans and how they worked.

Osiris had finished his bowl of salad a few minutes ago and stood up. "Thank you for the meal it, was delicious," Osiris said. Sylixis turned and looked his way, a smile returning to her face. Osiris started to move toward Dusk who had been gnawing on some grass for the past while.

Before he could move any further Sylixis called to him. "I see that you have a blade, it has been some time since I sparred with someone. Would you care to join me?"

Osiris turned at the ludicrous statement. Even more surprised at the fact he was considering it.