“Do you feel you can walk?”
Trystan nodded, gripping Marc’s arm for support. “I can.”
“We’ll go slow until you’re steady,” Marc said, helping to brace Trystan.
“Come, we can talk more as we make our way through the forest. I hope to find the cave entrance by nightfall,” Emrys said.
“Have you been there before?” Trystan asked.
“I once visited the elves when they lived above the ground, in the forest amongst the trees. I lived with them for a short time. It was they who taught me how to combine my magic with the elemental magic of the earth. But no, to answer your question, I have not ventured into the caves before.”
“How is it you came to know the elves?” Marc asked.
Trystan half listened to the conversation as he took in the forest around him.
Tall, stone-like trees towered above with no leaves. Their trunks were so wide that it would take at least five or six large men with arms outstretched to circle around one of them. The bushes, vines, and flowers were wilted and gray. No animals scurried about. No bugs or birds in the air. The creek beds that had once flowed throughout had dried up. The forest was lifeless, and Trystan could not help feeling sorrow, not only for the elves who had lost their home, but also for the life of the forest itself.
Trystan paused for a moment when he noticed a wilted flower with a touch of purple on one of its petals. There was a bit of life here after all. Trystan knelt down and touched the flower.
Images flashed in his mind. He looked down at the flower again. No longer wilted, its stalk and leaves were green. Its petals soft and purple. He glanced up. All around him, life flourished. Flowers blossomed as rays of sunshine sprinkled through the canopy of leaves, highlighting the golden brown of the tree trunks. Green and gold leaves danced high above him. The creeks bubbled with life as the water cascaded over rocks. Trystan caught a glimpse of a doe drinking from the life-giving stream. Butterflies and bees tickled the flowers as they collected the sweet nectar. The forest was alive.
Trystan blinked his eyes. The beauty and all the images faded.
He looked down. The flower rested lifelessly in his fingertips. He thought about the beautiful forest he’d seen in his mind. What he wouldn’t give to see it full of life again.
Lifting his gaze, Trystan watched Marc and Emrys walking ahead. Emrys stopped and turned. Marc stopped too.
“Coming, my king?” Emrys called.
“Yes.” Trystan rubbed his fingers delicately on the wilted flower, then stood and walked briskly to both men.
He never looked back.
