Fatemarked

Every night, now, the dreams. A forest that did and did not burn. Was and was not ashen wasteland. Voices - one voice? three? - at the edge of hearing. Sometimes she even saw and heard the ghost flames sweeping past in her waking hours now, and reached out frantically through them to reassure herself with the solid cool touch of holly and oak. Not here, she thought. Not here but - real. Real somewhere?
 
 
Then one night the dream flames were quieter, the chanting voices louder. Through the fire she could make out a circle, hazy figures moving within, their faces refused to her. With grief and hope undaunted their voices called on Sastrines, and their calling struck Kaelin to the heart. Through the haze, one figure grew clearer to her eyes, standing tall in the Circle’s heart. An elf maid, her dark hair like a cloud blown in the wind, power riding her voice. In her slender hands she held - clearer now, still clearer - only acorns, simple but shining, glowing with power, and her eyes-
 
 
Kaelin fell forward into those eyes and awoke in a forest that both was and was not home.