Chapter 246: Feeding the Soul
"No! Nyrielle!" Ashlynn screamed, her eyes finally opening as she tore her way free of the darkness of the vision. In her mind’s eye, however, she was watching Nyrielle turn her back on her, flying away into battle and leaving her to die on the wall. In the vision, Nyrielle’s face had once again become an impassive mask and though she called Ashlynn her darling, there was no warmth in her voice when she did.
Ashlynn’s scream echoed across the small island, startling a flock of birds from their roosts in the Ancient Willow’s branches. Her emerald eyes flew open but it took several moments before she could focus on the world around her. Her mind was caught somewhere between the cold stone battlements of her vision and the humid reality of the Briar, and for a few terrifying moments, she wasn’t sure which was reality and which was a dream.
"Easy, cher," Jacques’ deep, rumbling voice said, pulling her more firmly into the present where she started to notice the world around her. "Breathe deep, dere’s nottin’ here to harm you now."
Jacques’ calm collected voice helped her to calm her racing heart while the visions faded from her minds like dreams in the early hours after dawn. She didn’t know how long she had been trapped in the visions, but it had at least been long enough for the early morning sunlight to be replaced with a foggy evening gloom. Crickets chirped in the distance, and a crackling campfire cast a soft, golden glow over the small island.
It wasn’t until Jacques spoke that Ashlynn realized she’d been struggling against the spider-silk restraints that held her lashed to the tree. The double ended thorn in her shoulder, while it didn’t hurt, had moved enough with her struggles to reopen the wound and spill fresh blood down her back.
"Here," Jacques said, standing up from the campfire and closing the distance between them to hold up a water flask. "It’s sweet tea, not water," he said, giving her a warning and waiting for a nod from Ashlynn before placing the spout of the waterskin in her mouth and giving it a gentle squeeze.
The tea was cool but not cold, but even then it felt heavenly as the smooth liquid poured down Ashlynn’s parched throat like honey, soothing an ache she didn’t realize she had. She originally intended to stop at a few sips but she quickly found herself taking gulp after gulp of the sweet tea until she’d drained nearly a quarter of the waterskin.
"Thank you," she said in a voice that had regained a bit of its usual strength. "I needed that."
"Ain’t notin’ to pay any mind to," Jacques said, turning away from her and returning to the campfire. "Maman, she said dat de Ancient Willow will sustain you, but dat you might still want a meal. Do you?"