Chapter 5
A Change in the Works
The high pitched shrieks split the air, drowning out the accompanying thunder as it reverberated around the pine scented shelter. Alyssia clapped her hands over her ears, the piercing sound so shrill that her ears were beginning to ring.
Shriek followed shriek as Beatrix writhed on her mat, body thrashing and tangling in her blanket, resisting all of Alyssia's attempts to soothe her and push her back to the mat.
Morpheus knelt beside her, the first two fingers of his right hand pressed to Beatrix's temple, eyes closed, focused on the little girl's pain.
The blanket fell to the child's waste revealing arms that had swollen to twice their normal size. The skin had ruptured and small pale spikes could be seen protruding from the broken skin in no discernable order, the opaque barbs sharp and dangerous.
Alyssia smoothed back the golden sweaty hair, only to find that clumps of it came away in her hand, leaving the sides of her fair head bald. Beneath the hair that came away, more spikes could be felt under the skin, the ruptures appearing as pimples under the skin. She stared, horrified at the macabre sight in her hand.
Beatrix had grown; she was at least six inches taller than when she had carried her into the shelter.
"What is going on Morpheus? Is she dying? Why is her hair falling out? Talk to me!"
Silence greeted her outburst. Morpheus began to hum under his breath, removing his hand from her temple and sweeping his hands up and down Beatrix's body in a circular motion, hands hovering about three inches from contact with the skin. Beatrix's shrieks subsided somewhat as a bluish mist formed between her body and Morpheus' hands. The mist coated her body, bathing her in moisture, cooling her skin.
Beatrix sank back to the mat, onto her side, and sighed in relief. Her eyes popped open for a second, focusing clearly on Alyssia and Morpheus and one whispered word escaped her lips.
"Trolls."
Her eyes closed and she sank back into unconsciousness.
Morpheus continued to sweep his hands over her body, building the mist.
"Alyssia, bring me your bee balm."
These were the first words that he had spoken to her in the half hour since the cries had begun. They had been roused from their slumber to the princess' distressed wails.
Alyssia scooted back to her pack and retrieved the tin of prepared salve then crawled back to Morpheus.
"Open it please and spread the balm over the mist. You will not be able to touch her through the mist. Start at her head and smooth it in the same circular motion that you see me performing."
Alyssia did as instructed dipping out some salve and rubbing it between her palms to warm it to a spreadable consistency and followed Morpheus' motions. The balm seemed to melt onto the surface of the mist, creating a bluish white barrier that floated in a film, like the jelly rendered from a roast on cooling.
Once the princess was completely covered in her healing cocoon, Morpheus sat back on his heels with a sigh. He glanced at Alyssia, who stared back at him, haunted eyes demanding answers.
Sighing, Morpheus said "Let's make some warm tea; I could sure use a cup right about now."
They stirred the coals of the fire back to life and Alyssia set the metal tea pot on the coals, adding some tea leaves from her pouch into the pot.
Morpheus sank to the ground at the fire pit with another weary sigh, beside Alyssia.
"So?" Alyssia demanded.
"What you must understand is that I know little more than you do, really." Alyssia looked at him in disbelief and crossed her arms across her chest, frowning at him.
"Well, you are obviously a Wizard. I can see that well enough with my own eyes." Her eyes dared him to contradict her words.
"Yes, I am a Wizard, the last of my order as far as I know. Beatrix, here" he gestured to the prone form "is a Naiades, or a Nymph in the common tongue."
Alyssia gasped. "That cannot be! They are myth. Everyone knows they are not real."
"You can see the evidence for yourself, Alyssia. She is reverting back to her true form before our eyes." His gaze rested on the girl/nymph, his eyebrows pinching together into a frown. "The real question is what was she doing in King Aurelius' court and how long had she been kept there?"
"It seems that the lack of her normal elixir has allowed her to avert to her true form, which of course is dominant, so it is logical to assume that the elixir had been specially formulated to inhibit just this kind of transformation."
"So...so what will she look like when the transformation is complete?"
"I do not know. Well not entirely. It depends on what species she is. When the nymphs ruled the world, there were as many species of nymphs as there are humans today, or trolls for that matter. She could be bird, or fish, or even amphibian, or any combination in between, but all combine human traits as well. But I suspect she is a water and air combination."
"But, she is just a child! How can we care for her? Do you know what she eats?"
Morpheus laughed. "She may not be a child. That she was imprisoned at an early age is obvious, but did that stop her aging? Or just her ability to transform? I suspect that her aging was not arrested by the elixir, just her form. We will know before very long, in any event."
Alyssia pulled the tea pot from the fire, and poured the brew into two mugs, passing one to Morpheus and taking a sip from her own.
"Can you hazard a guess at her age?"
Morpheus pulled at his lower lip, thinking. "Well, the last record of any interaction with the nymph race, as recorded in the wizarding journals in my possession, were noted over 400 years ago."
Alyssia gasped once again, head swiveling to gaze at the child/woman/nymph, reassessing her evaluation of her guest. "Oh my..."
"I have just as many questions as you, my dear, likely many more. Alas, we cannot ask them until the princess awakens. I suggest we get some rest, while we can. Times are changing and it seems we have put our foot right in the middle of it, whatever it is. Rest may be very fleeting in the future." He patted her hand in comfort.
"Yes, you are correct." Alyssia signed and downed the rest of her tea and crawled back to her bed roll, crawling between the now damp blankets.
As her eyes closed, she thought she could hear comforting whispers in the rain, calling to her and to Beatrix.
"Morpheus?"
"Yes, Alyssia?" he murmured sleepily.
"What did she mean by 'Troll'?"
Silence followed the question. She waited for a response, but then the sound of snoring reached her straining ears. Sighing, she rolled up in her blanked and her eyes drifted shut as exhaustion pulled her down into oblivion.
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