How long had he been looking for her, he suddenly wondered? His legs were aching, and it felt as if with each step he took, his feet were heavier and heavier. Vohne was scared that if he stopped, even for a short break to catch his breath, his toes would grow roots deep into the soil, grounding him to the earth before he could find her…
He knew he was close, now. Cibelle’s heart was beating loudly in the middle of the forest, leading him slowly but surely. He could recognize it in the rhytmic trembling of the tree leaves, and the slow swaying of the tall grass.
Vohne had to talk to her before Claudius persuaded her to leave. He had to find a way to keep her home. Cibelle was not ready to face the fate that awaited her. She was far too naive and kind to be known as The One, the long expected hero the elders had promised to their people.
Vohne had always doubted the credibility of these tales… To him, the coming of The One was a legend, until the signs had begun to show. And he had taken all the precautions he could think of, to give her a peaceful, simple life. Still, destiny had chased her down like a lone wolf, and this was his last chance to keep her innocence untouched.
He knew that if she was indeed The One, her future would be one of great perils. He had read all about The One’s saga, and he could not allow it to happen to her… To them.
Vohne hunted her silhouette through the bushes, following the sweet vanilla essence of her skin, clinging to every branch she had touched, and every stone she had stepped upon. This distinctive perfume that belonged to the linen of their love birds’ nest, and not to a warrior’s journey.
Suddenly, the imminence of her presence dizzied him to a stop.
Did he really believe he could hide the truth from her, anyway? How long could he keep the thoughts for himself? Cibelle read him like an open book… But maybe, just maybe, he would find a way to chase the old man away and all the memories of The One from his head with him.
When he looked up again, he finally caught a glance of Cibelle. Just like the countless times he had hunted partridges, Vohne carefully came forward, avoiding the dry leaves and the offshoots on the ground, only stepping on the soft moss not to catch his lover’s attention.
Cibelle was stunning, as usual. Sitting on the the huge sycamore that had been struck down by lightning the previous springtime, her long white gown danced with the summer wind. In the clearing, sunlight bathed her, magnifying her natural beauty.
When she turned his way, he noticed something weird that should have striken him right away. Cibelle’s face was blurry, and it wasn’t the distance between them that affected Vohne’s sight. He could vividly follow everyone of her curves, but her face remained unclear.
Cibelle’s voice surprised him, and he tried to discern her curly lips, in vain.
What would he tell her to persuade her that she needed to stay?
Suddenly, light filled every gap between the branches and the flash blinded him, depriving him from Cibelle’s sight.
When he woke, Cibelle was still nestled against his chest, but she was already dressed up.
My Love, you have to get up. It is time for us to go.
Time to go? How could he let her go?
Via today’s Word of the Day Challenge: Dream
To read the previous episodes of Cibelle & Vohne’s adventures, click here.