Gerald awoke to the sound of the old woman, banging her pots outside everyone's huts. As normal for the logging village.

"WAKE UP YOU LAZY ASSES!" She shouted, as usual, "THERE'S WORK ENOUGH TO BE DONE HERE!" She slowed and knocked respectfully at his door however. "That includes you too!" She said, with much more tone and grace. "Better hurry or there will be no sausage left in the stew!" She then continued on her way through the company housing. Gerald sat up on the straw he used as a bed and looked around the one room hovel. The embers from the fire awoke with him, roaring into an unfed flame that didn't give smoke. It did, however, boil the water which would become his morning tea.

Gerald groaned, and hated his hip, which told him that there would be a little rain in the afternoon. (It was never wrong) As soon as the kettle was singing softly, he quickly put on his mittens and pulled the kettle from the fire. Soon, the leaves were seeping beautifully and he added a single small spoon of honey, and then cyanide into the mix. 'Delicious'. He thought as he drank. The man stood to his full height, and instantly regretted it after hitting his head on the ceiling. He wasn't a tall man, but the ceiling was quite low. Cursing and muttering to himself, he lowered the flame in the fireplace with the word "Bel". The flame sputtered out without even a wisp of smoke. Cold immediately seeped into the hovel, but Gerald didn't care. He was already pulling on his jacket and grabbing his long walking stick.

He immediately regretted not being able to use magic to heat himself the moment that he walked out the door into the cold, cloudy, autumn day. 'Being cold is a lot better than being run out of town.' He thought. The town of Woodstand didn't allow magic users like him, and he was fine with that. (Not that they could tell if he was using magic on them anyways as long as he wasn't open with his powers.)

The leaves in the forest near the forestry workers housing him were coated with brown, orange, and a few yellow leaves, but many of the yellow already coated his path. As he walked down the well worn dirt path to where the worker's breakfast stew was already being dished out to the early risers, he couldn't help but notice that many of them were looking at him strangely again. 'Standard fear of outsiders... doesn't matter I've been here for five years...' he thought.

As he was dished up a small bowl of stew and sat with the workers at the long wooden tables, he couldn't help but admire their muscles and wish that he was a worker like them (if only for that fringe benefit). The rumors were flying, as usual. He mostly ignored it until came a word that Gerald knew all too well, and feared for the potential portents... "... magic..."

Immediately his mind grabbed on that and his ears grabbed onto the voice of the head carpenter at the table behind Gerald as the people around talked. "...like I said, I didn't have much to do with her. You know them outsiders... folk that usually should stay within their own borders. Anyways, she comes into the tavern last night and asks for a room."

"You were probably drunk." His friend laughed.

"Maybe so, but I swear to you that that woman is magic, or has some other queer property about her."

"Oh stop talking out your ass, Jim. Every week it's something new with ya."

"This time I'm serious! As serious as I was with my wife before her passing, and that's the gods' truth!"

"Sorry, sorry... go ahead. How do you know this woman's got magic?"

"Because I saw it!" The carpenter exclaimed, a little louder than he meant to. "Listen, I was in there, getting a pint, when she knocked my drink over. Purely on accident, mind you. So when I turned to her to either get a coin out of it or have her buy me a round, there she was with the full mug in her hand and a smile that would turn someone like Jerry back to liking women folk. Not a drop spilled! I swear, it may have been even more full than when she knocked it over!"

"She must have just been quick. Definitely quicker than your drunk ass." His friend said with a playful pat on the back.

The carpenter sounded a little shaken by that. "It's possible, I suppose... But it is definitely true that that would have been even faster than me sober to avoid a mess all over the hall and lady Drefston all over our asses." The others nearby muttered a small 'yeah' at the end of that. Most of them had been at the end of Drefston's broom for either getting too drunk, making a pass at one of the girls who worked there, or making a mess on the tavern's well kept floors. (Sometimes in a night, all three)

The conversation drifted to other matters and was beginning to sound more normal when the sound of the bell for the morning cutters to go out sounded.

It was also the bell for school classes. Not that any of the children would be at the school where Gerald taught them yet. They would all be with their mothers, eating their own meals or playing with the other children in the town. Gerald, however, got up quickly turned in his, now empty, bowl, and immediately walked towards the old church that was used most days as the school.

He walked the quickest path into town, and entered the main road with a small smile on his face and a nod to the, very attractive, gate guard. She rolled her eyes at him, as she always did, but returned his smile and nod. He enjoyed his work, even if it barely paid, and the town that he was quickly growing more and more at home in. The road was already bustling with people setting up their wares in the market, the butcher's shop smelling heavenly, and the baker already shouting to sell the morning loafs of hardy strong bread. The church stood near the center of town and worked well as both a church and a school for the young ones. (At least the few whose parents could afford to send their children to school). He was also the town herbalist, using his keen eye for herbs and knowledge of Witch's magic to make the poultices and sew back together what needed mending. (Not that the town knew about him having magic. It was his little secret.)

He walked up the three steps to the door of the church when something unusual caught his eye. He turned to his right, where the butcher's place was, and saw a woman. Now this wouldn't have been an oddity except for her clothing. She was clad in a bright green that stood out against the, mostly, brown or black clothing of the townsfolk around her. A long, slightly curved knife was at her hip, and she was talking eagerly with the butcher, who seemed to be... enamored with her looks more than interested in conversation. Gerald cursed that the sound of the town merchants were too loud for the conversation to be heard, even from that close, but he shrugged it off and unlocked the door, before quickly closing it again behind him, leaving it unlocked for his students.

He quickly put logs in the fireplace at the front of the church and lit the flames quickly with a small fire rune that he carved into a log using the poker. Warmth had just begun to fill the church near the fireplace when the door opened again.

"You're late." Gerald stated, not looking up from poking the fire.

"I'm not a student." Came a woman's voice. Gerald's eyes lit up and he turned around quickly, his walking stick held tightly in his hand.

There, as might be guessed, stood the oddly dressed woman in the open doorway. Her clothing was obviously travelling garb, with long green trousers that fit loosely on her thin legs, and light armor made from what looked like the moss covered bark of trees. Her arms were covered as well with the long sleeves of a jacket that was a darker shade of green, but had three large blue peacock feathers in the right shoulder. Her face was thin, but not overly attractive. (Or so Gerald thought as he sized her up quickly)

"I'm sorry... um... miss." Gerald replied. "Would you mind closing the door? It gets drafty enough in here without the doors open." She nodded and did so, then walked around the church. Wooden statues of the gods stared back at her from the edges of the room, while the pews, some with long wooden boards that the students used to write or draw, filled the center and a majority of the room. Not that the little church got many people these days. Usually it was only used for holidays that celebrated one or more of the gods. Gerald could still hardly take his eyes off of her, as though there were... something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

She didn't return his stare, however, and instead focused on one of the goddesses near the front of the room and gave it an honorary bow.

"You worship Dryas?" Gerald asked politely, looking with her and the woman enshrined in wood.

"Dryassiad" The woman replied, turning to him with a smile. "I don't think it's appropriate to shorthand the name of a goddess."

Gerald smiled and walked closer, not letting go of the poker. "I'm afraid I don't worship, and thus may have fallen a little shy on my respects. My apologies."

"No matter." She replied and turned to him. "You can use magic."

The question took Gerald by surprise. "Very little magic here in town miss." He managed to get out, almost too quickly. "You'll find that the whole town gets rid of all magic users when they're discovered."

Her smile widened. "Liar. I can sense it on you."

"Then you sense the old curse on me." He replied, showing her the long scar on his left arm that travelled from his wrist to his elbow. "Wizard gave me this, back when I was a younger man."

Her smile remained unchanged as her eyes bored into his. "You surely have a roaring fire..." She said, her voice trailing off. He looked at her oddly, and then back to the fire, then back to her. "That level of fire surely must have taken at least ten or more minutes to get lit since the hearth was cold when I visited earlier this morning." The accusation wasn't foolproof, but it did throw the man's brain into a frenzy.

'Damn'. He thought, his mind attempting to get back control of the conversation. "I've always been good at starting a fire. I can make one this big using wet wood, if needed. Comes from years of travelling before settling down."

"I'm sure." She said, with a sarcastic tone.

"Um... look... Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes." She sat in the pew, wrapping her thin legs over the top of the pew in front of her. "You can come with me."

"Um... I have a class that seems to be late..."

"They're peeping at us through the window." She said, giving a nod behind her, though she didn't turn or even look at the window. "I get the sneaking suspicion that you don't get many of my kind in town after all."

"True. The last time we had a Druid in this town was over a hundred years ago, and the townsfolk ran that bastard out."

Her smile twitched wider, "And how does a tutor from the middle of nowhere know that I am a Druid?"

"Because I wasn't always living here." Gerald admitted. "I've only been here for around 5 years."

"Really? You look remarkably young for a world traveler then."

"...Thank you." Gerald replied. "Now you should leave. I have a class to teach, and I'm sure you have business elsewhere than with the school teacher."

She stood and said softly, "You're coming with me." The coo of her voice made the man want to run out the door with her right that minute, even if there had been a hungry dragon waiting for his demise. But he managed to hold firm, (even without dipping into his own, hidden, magic) but just barely. "Is... is that magic?" His eyes feigned terror and he took a step away from her. "Get away from me Witch!"

"Druid." She corrected, and the surprised look on her face almost made Gerald lose his (fake) terrified expression and laugh out loud and blow his whole façade. "Strange... I sense... something in you..." She looked at Gerald with a intensity that made him look away. "Meet me today for drinks at the tavern. My treat."

"No thank you." Gerald replied, backing away with a staggered walk into the wall, almost hitting the statue of Zeiss.

Her smiled drooped as she followed him, taking long strides. "Please... A simple drink, teacher. Perhaps you can help me find the person I am seeking then."

'Not likely' He thought. "I'll... I don't have any appointments, but I can't guarantee-"

"Great." The woman interrupted, walking towards the door, her flat shoes barely making a sound on the, usually, creaking, floors of the church. "Oh... and don't keep a girl waiting too long!" She blew a kiss at him and then walked out the door, passed the onlooking students, and onto the dirt road that was the main street.

"Come in you little peeping Toms!" Gerald called, feigning catching his breath and trying to make himself presentable again for the eight students he had. "Your lessons won't wait forever..."