Dr Kinnon Blair- Immortal Druid
Completely oblivious to the conversations going on around him, Dr Blair was adrift in a sea of memories that had, for countless centuries, been locked away by his own choice.
Now, because of the sudden energy burst that had finally overwhelmed the weary druid, painful memories began to claw their way to the surface As exhausted as Kinnon was, he was unable to fight their relentless assault.
Kinn opened a sleep heavy eye, the sun was peeking in through a pair of threadbare curtains and the offending beam had struck Kinn full in the face.
He gave a small groan and shifted onto his side, nestling his head into the warm pillow, his small victory over the intrusive sunlight brought a small smile to his lips.
That smile widened as a woman's voice rose in a song from an adjoining room.
Early one morning, just as the sun was rising.
I heard a young maid sing in the valley below.
Oh, don't deceive , oh never leave me.
How could you use a poor maiden so?
Kinn sat up in bed, the voice, the song and surroundings were so familiar, so confusing and so real that he had to pinch himself to make sure he was not dreaming.
He pushed the bed covers aside, an unexpected eagerness overcoming his sleepiness, strangely, at least to his way of thinking, he was fully clothed It was not unusual back in the times before houses had central heating, running water or electricity for people to wear extra layers of clothing to bed. It was the strange attire that he wore that caused him to pause.
"What on earth is central heating or electricity."
Kinn mulled this over, he did not know the words or the meanings behind them, yet somehow he did.
A few minutes passed before he realized the singing had stopped, he walked out of the bedroom and into a warmly lit, yet sparsely furnished living area.
The small noise of a feminine laugh and the rustling of fabrics alerted him to the presence of the owner of the melodious voice. When he turned however, the room was empty.
He did notice the front door standing open and took a dew steps towards it, he stopped as his gaze took in a bowl filled with rose petals and lemon zest. Why this was important, Kinn did not know, it had caught his eye because of how brightly painted it was. The scent however, did elicit something from him, another memory, this one accompanied by the image of an auburn haired woman plaiting her waist length hair.
As he stood in the room another verse of the song reached his ears, once again it was teasingly close.
Remember the vows that you made to me truly.
Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me.
Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses.
I've culled from the garden, to bind over thee.
Kinn shook the song away, he walked out of the house that was strangely familiar. No sooner had his foot left the house than a strong gust of wind flew up at him, picking up fallen leaves and dirt as it did.
The small dust cloud caused Kinn to turn his head and close his eyes. Mere moments passed yet when he opened them again everything around him had changed.
The remains of a garden stood before him, the long abandoned vegetables dead at the vine or stalk, weeds choked once beautiful flowers and the insects and birds had taken care of what had been left.
A noise from behind Kinn, a small gasp or a quick intake of breath alerted him to the elusive woman. He turned once more, and once again found himself alone.
He stood in the doorway of the house which, moments ago, had stood behind him.
The woman's voice began to sing again, this time the melody was there but the voice had changed, it sounded older, tired somehow.
Here I now wander alone as I wonder
Why did you leave me to sigh and complain.
I ask of the roses, why should I be forsaken,
Why must I here in sorrow remain?
Kinn gingerly stepped back into the house. He had to watch his step due to how badly the wood beneath his feet had rotted.
He kept his arms out before him as he moved away from the only source of light, the song continued to guide him through the now desolate home.
Through yonder grove by the spring that is running.
There you and I have so merrily played.
Kissing and courting and gently sporting,
Oh, my innocent heart you've betrayed.
Kinn reached the door leading into the bedroom. Sudden apprehension and dread filled him. He did not understand why he felt like this, the home had once felt secure, offering protection from the predators and shelter from the elements.
Time, however had made sure that the house knew it would not stand forever, would not offer protection or shelter indefinately Time was ever present. Time could wait. Time had....time.
Kinn chuckled uneasily at his own little joke. The voice behind the door still sang on, the voice cracking occasionally and the melody had begun to get lost amidst the weariness now apparent in it's tone.
How could you slight so pretty a girl who loves you,
A pretty girl who loves you so dearly and warm?
Though love's folly is surely but a fancy,
Still it should prove to me sweeter than your scorn.
Opening the door Kinn walked in. The room had not changed as dramatically as the rest of the house. The bed still remained, as did the threadbare curtains.
The only differences that Kinn could see was the brightly painted bowl which had stood near the front door, a single lit candle and the owner of the singing voice.
Kinn began to speak, he opened his mouth to say something, no words however came out. The woman sat with her back to him, apparently unaware that there was anyone else in the room with her.
Soon you will meet with another pretty maiden,
Some pretty maiden, you'll court her for a while,
Thus ever ranging, turning and changing,
Always seeking for a girl that is new.
Kinn stepped around the bed, a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. The woman had finished singing, but was now wordlessly humming the tune, the song was one Kinn knew very well. As he came to stand in front of the woman who he had once known, the candle sputtered, causing a flickering light to cast over the face.
A startled gasp escaped Kinn's mouth, he stood staring at the face, skin withered and rotting, pallid and cold. It was the face of a corpse.
The corspe of a woman who he had loved, a woman he had married, a woman he had seen wither and die whilst he remained young, strong and vital.
He now understood the significance of the bowl, it's potent smell served as a filter through which he could breathe, the air was ripe with the rotten smell of death and decay.
His bowels clenched painfully, he feared he would vomit.
"Moira, my love, how is it possible for you to be here, I buried you centuries ago, what cruel god or goddess has brought you into this mockery of life, causing you such torment and anguish by making you relive such a twisted existence."
The corpse of his beloved wife turned to the light of the candle, hiding her face from him as if she understood how her appearance must be affecting him. She shook her head slowly, clumps of hair dropping to the bed with the motion. She took in a deep gulp of air, dragging it through a body which no longer needed it, into lungs that had not functioned in years and let it out in a sigh.
"Tis no god that did this to me my heart. Tis the doings of Duloch, the dark oak. The man you once knew as Keir."
Kinnon woke up screaming, he did not know he was being carried by Henry and his wild thrashing threw the man off balance. Kinn landed hard on the floor, he lay there trying to get air into his body. It was painful to do so past the lump in his throat.
Keir was still alive? He must have taken the same elixir he had tricked Kinnon into taking, but why torture someone from Kinn's past? and why had he been shown this vision now?
Kinn sat up and looked around at the group, they had been in the middle of discussing something important. He ran a hand through his hair and sheepishly spoke to the group.
"So uh, what did I miss?"
