The Daemon's Tale Ch. 04

She led him to dance in Fairy glades with laughing, winged children that took his hand and showed him small wonders of their world -- a blooming wildflower, a bird sitting on her eggs, a toadstool emerging from the ground so quickly that one could sit and watch it unfold. She swam with him in deep, still pools that were icy cold as they filled from streams running off the mountain and showed him how to dive and find that precious gems were scattered along their rocky bottoms, so deep that only those who could breathe underwater could reach them. She climbed towering oaks and beeches that stood regally with their heads among the clouds, leading him upwards until the whole of the Faerie stronghold could be seen below them -- miles upon miles of forest and glades and rivers wreathed in magic so old and fundamental that it was almost visible. And slowly the little bubble of peace that she had first instilled in Gabriel in those nights at the spring grew, pushing away the guilt and dimming the agony of grief. He would miss Katherine forever but Vaern had, almost as much as was possible, healed him.

And thanks to her Gabriel began to resume a slightly more normal life. The Elf still visited him daily despite the fact that his shoulder no longer needed dressing; the only medical aspect of her visit consisted of rubbing herb-based oil into the closed wounds to lessen the scarring. Far more importantly, though, she visited in order to check and if necessary rebalance his mental state. Every now and then the Daemon would begin to spiral back into darkness and anger but a few hours in Vaern's company brought him back and soothed him. The episodes occurred less and less frequently over the months he remained in the Faerie stronghold as Vaern helped him to cope with Katherine's death in a way that he could manage; bit by bit, Gabriel Jhaedaes Os Tar clawed his way back to sanity.

***

The Daemon Lord stood still and silent, framed by the natural wooden border of one of his glassless windows, as the sun set on an evening nearly a year after he had arrived in this place. He'd been dishevelled and broken back then; injured, sallow, and wild. He'd been desperate for refuge and healing which he'd found, fortunately; he'd no doubt that Vaern had saved his life, something which had been hanging on desperate tenterhooks when he'd first arrived. Now brilliant orange light spilled over a frame which had filled out once more with lean muscle and reflected off brilliant moonstone skin that was no longer pallid and bruised. There was no tension in his shoulders or neck as he stared impassively over the realm of the Faeries, and although his did not smile he looked as though he was at peace.

He couldn't stay here forever though. Gabriel could feel the first stirrings of restlessness; a common trait among Daemons who typically lived fairly nomadic lifestyles. He'd desperately needed what this place and a certain special Elf had offered but he was no longer dependent on it. It had been months since he'd ventured outside of the Faerie stronghold and it wasn't a place just anyone could visit, so it was time he returned to the forest and resume his position as Daemon Lord in a properly practicing capacity. Being unavailable for challenges to his leadership and for disciplining law-breakers was unfair to his kind. He couldn't remain here much longer.

The prospect of leaving was something he felt he could cope with now though. Vaern's quiet strength was so different to his own powerful confidence but he'd learnt from that and would carry it with him when he left. A few more days were all he needed to set things in order with Tiran and thank the Elf before making his farewells. A few more days, and he would face the world again.