Exton

Night has fallen. Sorties have been fought. Inari walks among the injured, offering words of encouragement and comfort. Raina lays somewhere among them, dozing fitfully with the help of potions. One, or both of her lovers would be with her. He had checked on her earlier. She had been asleep,and as he sat by her side, he heard the tones of respect used with her name. She had availed herself well on the battlefield.

His footsteps have taken him to a clearing above the tents. Keon stares at the campsite unseeing, thoughts riding round and round, drumming like the hooves of war horses. So many images, so many thoughts. He knows the dangers, and yet he indulges.

Cassie walks through his reverie, the scales of the Siren's dress glittering in the dark. The blue of her tresses shimmers in the moonlight, the black stripe a shadow of the night. A noise attracts his attention and he casts his senses to the trees. He stands still, watching Cassie glide towards him. The dress slips away, leaving her bare to his gaze. Droplets glisten on her smooth skin and a smile touches her slightly parted lips. Keon watches a drop of water drift down her torso, sliding around her belly ring. It takes an effort to raise his gaze to her face.

Her hands cup his face and she moves closer, breathing his name. He slips his hands to her shoulders and suddenly pushes, breaking her touch. Hurt slips into her eyes and she pouts. Keon reminds himself sharply that even the images of loved ones can kill if a person is not careful.

"*Níl tú fíor. Saoire dom féin. Téigh ar ais go dtí do ceochán. Mbaineann Mo ghrá go Cassie, ní h íomhá lom. Téigh ar shiúl."

He turns his back, erasing the image of Cassie from his thoughts. A single tear slides down his cheek. The soft warm touch of mist brushes past his cheek and he whispers softly.

"^Is tú mo ghrá Cassie, cibé áit ina bhfuil do Spioraid ghri."

Again the mist caresses his cheek and he hears Cassie's lyrical voice whispering. "And I love you, Keon Dealg Drubh. You and our daughter."

Slow steps take him along the path to the tents. His eyes and ears alert for danger, he keeps his mind as blank as possible.. A high pitched hum pulls him to a pause and Miko darts before him. He brandishes his hatpin, bowing in midflight. Keon smiles. Coming back to Faerie has done the demifae good. He has healed what were feared to be debilitating injuries.

He asks Keon if there is anything he might need from the woods. When Keon tells him no and warns him to be careful of the mists, Miko bows his acknowledgment. The small man flits off, with a few others of his kind to gather nectars and herbs for the Healers. Keon walks on slowly, seeking his own bedroll. A Hell Hound finds him and stays close, watching over the Lord of the Hounds as he fitfully sleeps.


*You are not real. Leave me alone. Go back to your mists. My love belongs to Cassie, not her mere image. Go away.

^I love you Cassie, wherever your Spirit has wandered.