Witt Will Not Save You (Adventure and Romance)

Part 26

A sharp whining ring slowly dulled in Maive's ears, she slowly opened her eyes and was greeted once again by the unworldly hum of Headings forest and the view of the ghostly pale moonlight streaming through the twining trees. She was lying on a cold patch of moss, her leg laying limp and covered in sticky blood and dirt. It was painful but it was nothing compared to the sudden splitting ache in Maive's head as her senses drove back into her body. The dragon had to be still lurking around in the shadows, surely sizing her up to devour her whole. She did not know much about dragons but she assumed that humans made delicious meals and that this particular beast had probably not tasted mortal flesh in quiet some time.

She grunted as she tried to haul herself up, she had no sword anymore so her best option was that the dragon was no far away enough for her to hobble to softy, if that was even possible in her current state. She looked through the misty trees, nothing. No sign of life, until a sliver of light peeked through an opening amongst the trees. The light did not belong to a fire or the moon, it was a light deprived of any warmth or colour. It drew closer and closer, slowly illuminating the forest. It trickled from branch to branch, stone to stone until it had moved close enough to Maive that now she could see a faint tall figure walking slowly towards her. The closer the figure got the more clearly the details of it became. It was a person, a man and an old one at that, the sharp features of his withered face came into view. He had icy white hair that  protruded from his head and cold, void black eyes, the eyes of death. Even his long tangled beard could not hide his scorched pale skin that seemed to glow even duller in the stale night air. 

Maive wanted to move but her good leg was planted in place and the other felt like dead weight, she was paralyzed by the enchanting, ghostly figure standing about 20 paces away. Her gaze drifted to his surely once elegant clothes that looked worn and aged, just like him. 

"Do you know who I am child" his deep and hollow voice echoed through her.

Maive's eyes widened.

"Not exactly." Speaking was easier than expected.

She thought that she should be afraid but somehow in these situations her bewilderment and perhaps foolish intrigue always won over the fear. 

"I know who you are, I know exactly who you are." his voice boomed.

"I knew it the moment you stepped foot in the forest, blood healer." 

His words finally sent a pulse of shock through Maive's veins.

He angled his scrawny neck down at her bloody leg.

"You must forgive my friend about the means of bringing you hear but I am afraid that I just had to meet you, see I need you for something." He said.

Maive's head begun racing yet again, the dragon was a friend? And this man, was he a ghost, he wasn't transparent or hovering above the ground. He was more of a living breathing corpse, decaying more with time. No, ghosts were hazy, lucid creatures that become one with the wind and earth. This man was, if anything working against the laws of nature, an unbalanced and unnatural being kept alive by the a very dark type of magic. And what could her blood do for him, he was surely way beyond the point of healing.