The sacred forest thrummed with an energy that Ailsa could feel deep in her bones. It was as though the wilds themselves breathed alongside her, matching her every step. Her son, Eldric, nestled in her arms, had his wide, curious eyes fixed on the swaying branches above. Even now, at only a few months old, the forest seemed drawn to him—or perhaps he to it. Birds perched closer than usual, their heads tilted inquisitively, while a fox lingered at the edge of the clearing, watching with an intensity that made Ailsa's heart tighten.
She brushed her fingers through Eldric's soft curls, her thoughts a tangle of pride and worry. The prophecy was always there, looming in her mind. The druids had spoken of greatness and trials, of sacrifice and balance. She would prepare him, shield him for as long as she could, but the weight of his destiny already felt like a shadow stretching across their tranquil life.
Ailsa crouched on the forest floor, her hands deftly arranging a ring of stones around a patch of bare soil. Eldric, now three, sat across from her, mimicking her movements with an endearing determination. His small hands clutched a bundle of twigs she'd given him, and his brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to place them just so.
"What are we making, Mama?" he asked, his voice high and earnest.
Ailsa smiled, her heart swelling. "A listening circle," she said. "The wilds speak in whispers, Eldric. If you're quiet and patient, you can hear them."
Eldric's face scrunched up in thought. "The trees? They talk?"
"Not just the trees," Ailsa said, tapping the soil lightly with her fingers. "The earth, the wind, the animals. They all have voices. But to hear them, you must be very still. Can you do that?"
He nodded solemnly, setting down his twigs. Ailsa reached across to smooth his unruly hair, her smile soft. "Good. Sit with me, then."
The two of them sat cross-legged within the circle, their hands resting on their knees. Ailsa closed her eyes, and Eldric followed her lead. For a long moment, there was only silence—not empty, but alive with the hum of the forest. The rustle of leaves, the creak of branches, the faint trickle of a distant stream.
"Do you hear it?" Ailsa whispered.
Eldric's brow furrowed. "I think so," he murmured. "It's... like a song."
Ailsa opened her eyes, her heart skipping at his words. She reached out and touched his cheek. "Yes, my love. It is a song. And one day, you will understand its meaning."
The quiet of the evening was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps and the clash of metal. Ailsa froze, her senses going sharp. Poachers. She rose quickly, scooping Eldric into her arms.
She carried him to a dense thicket of ferns and knelt down, cupping his small face in her hands. "Stay here," she whispered, her voice steady despite the knot of fear tightening in her chest. "Don't move, no matter what you hear."
Eldric nodded, his blue eyes wide with trust. Ailsa kissed his forehead, then stood and stepped into the clearing, her hands trembling with controlled anger.
Four men stood near a sacred oak, their axes biting deep into its bark. The largest of them, a scarred man with a broad chest and cruel eyes, turned at her approach. His grin was wide and mocking.
"Well, look what the trees have sent us," he said. "A druid come to bless our work, eh?"
Ailsa's voice was sharp and unwavering. "Leave this place. That tree belongs to the forest, not to you."
The scarred man's grin widened, and he leaned on the haft of his axe. "Brave words for a druid. But see, we've got hungry mouths to feed. Firewood fetches a fair price, and this one's ripe for the taking."
Anger flared in Ailsa's chest. She stepped forward, her hands curling into fists. "I will not warn you again. Leave. Now."
One of the men chuckled nervously, but the leader barked a laugh. "What'll you do, woman? Call down the gods?"
Ailsa raised her hands, and the air around her seemed to shift. The wind picked up, swirling through the clearing with a sudden ferocity that sent leaves and dirt flying. The sacred oak groaned, its branches creaking ominously. The men stumbled back, their bravado faltering as the forest itself seemed to rise against them.
"Go," Ailsa said, her voice low and dangerous. "Or the wilds will not be so kind next time."
The scarred man hesitated, then spat on the ground. "Come on," he snarled to the others. "This isn't worth it."
The poachers retreated, their footsteps fading into the distance. Ailsa let out a slow breath, the wind dying down as she turned back toward the thicket. Eldric peered out from his hiding place, his expression a mixture of awe and fear.
"Mama, the trees listened to you," he whispered.
Ailsa knelt and pulled him into her arms, her voice trembling with emotion. "Yes, they did," she said. "And one day, they will listen to you too."
Weeks passed, and Ailsa began to incorporate survival lessons into Eldric's routine. She showed him how to climb trees, forage for food, and recognize the signs of danger. Though he was still young, she knew it was never too early to prepare him.
"Balance is everything," she told him one morning as he walked across a fallen log, his arms outstretched for stability. "Not just with your body, but with your choices. The wilds give, but they also take. You must respect both."
Eldric nodded, his small face set with determination. Ailsa watched him with pride, but her heart ached. She could see him growing stronger, but she could also feel the prophecy tightening its grip on their lives. Time was slipping away, and she could not stop it.
One quiet afternoon, Eldric wandered to the stream near their home while Ailsa tended to her herbs. She glanced up occasionally, reassured by the steady hum of the forest. But when a wolf's growl cut through the air, her heart leapt into her throat.
She ran toward the sound, her mind racing. When she reached the clearing, she froze. Eldric stood a few feet away from a snarling wolf, his small hands outstretched. The animal's hackles were raised, its teeth bared, but it did not attack. Instead, it seemed transfixed, its gaze locked with Eldric's.
The air around Eldric shimmered faintly, and Ailsa realized he was speaking to the wolf, though not with words. Slowly, the wolf's growl subsided. It lowered its head, turned, and loped back into the forest.
Ailsa rushed forward and knelt before her son, her hands gripping his shoulders. "Eldric," she said, her voice trembling. "What did you do?"
Eldric blinked up at her, his blue eyes bright. "He was scared, Mama. I told him it was safe."
Ailsa pulled him into her arms, tears streaming down her face. The sapling tattoo on his back glowed faintly, its lines pulsing like a heartbeat. She closed her eyes and held him tightly, her thoughts a storm of pride and fear. The prophecy was already taking shape, and the wilds were listening.