Monologue Of Danciet Alternate Ending

The air crackled as Callixta walked. Leaves fell from the trees. Their edges curled as they shriveled in the summer’s heat. Seven years of drought had cost the township of Danciet dearly. Being a nurse and helper in the sick rooms, she had witnessed the villagers hardships first hand. Ever since she was a child, she had helped her father, who was the town’s healer. Never had she seen so much death as she had in the last year. It was frightening to see the shriveled bodies of men who had once been healthy.
Callixta’s eyes burned with dry tears. This morning had been no different. Her son, Elwyn, found a man in the woods. It was rare to discover someone still alive. Usually, everyone perished from dehydration. Even her husband had died searching
for water because their well water had become rancid. Now, hours of the days were spent distilling the foul liquid so that they could drink. With years of loss, her heart was heavy.
Although there was no way to save the man this morning, it gave her a chance to ask him questions. In dry gasps, he spoke of water he had found near Mirstone. While it gave her hope, she thought it was odd that he still perished having found potable water. Before her eyes, he shriveled like salt-baked leather. However, it was too far to walk without sufficient water. No one was that privileged.
“Drought, my ass,” Callixta raged at the sun. “You’re turning our forest into a desert.”
Callixta kicked at the barren path, wondering how she was supposed to find healing plants in a forest devoid of life for her father’s medicines. Even the vultures, ogres and trolls hadn’t been spotted for months. Afterall, there was nothing to eat. Shuddering at the thought, Callixta shook off the unpleasant feeling. Nothing could survive in the wastelands between walled towns. This walk was merely a break disguised as a quest that her father had sent her on.
“This is ridiculous,” Callixta complained to a bare sapling. “I’m not a successful nurse. Everyone just dies. I’m a failure as a gatherer since I can’t find a live plant. It's just useless.”
“That’s a shame,” someone said.
Surprised by the intrusion, Callixta spun around, searching for the person who had spoken. “Why?”
“Because you are a healer.”
Callixta was sure the voice had come from a different spot this time.
“I’m not,” she goaded the evasive owner of the voice to keep him talking, desperate to know how to end Danciet’s suffering.
“Maybe not yet. But you are.” She could now hear him close behind her. “Over here.”

Callixta looked at the tree she had spoken to earlier and spotted a lithe brown figure. “Why’s a sprite in these parts? ”
“I’m not a sprite. I’m an elf,” he said, offended. “But I’d ask the same of you.”
Relaxing a little, Callixta examined the little man. Sprites were evil tricksters, but the immortal elves were, for the most part, well-meaning. “I’m looking for healing plants.”
“So you are a healer then,” the elf taunted. “Why’s a healer walking where nothing grows?”
“I’m not,” Callixta sighed. “I’m a nurse. I tend to the dying.”
“You’re doing it all wrong.” The man frowned.
She narrowed her eyes at the reedy elf who was speaking in riddles, and unappreciative of his criticism. Knowing nothing about her, elf or not, he was up to something. Because she didn’t trust him, she turned to walk away.
“You should be using magic,” the elf sang after
her.
Callixta stopped with a loud crunch. Without turning, she replied. “For magic, you need living ingredients. The sun has dried up any possible magic to be found for miles.” Disappointed that there didn't seem to be much sense to the elf's rambling, she began walking again.
“That’s human magic. They need potions because they don’t possess real magic.”
A thin laugh rose from Callixta’s chest, dismissing the pest. “That’d make sense. I’m a human.”
“Not entirely, my love,” he said from close behind her.
“What does that mean? ” Callixta asked above the noise of her footsteps, throwing her hands up in frustration. Compared to the swift, light-footed elf who barely rustled, she felt like a lout.
“You have magic,” he smiled.
“You expect me to believe that?” She stomped louder on purpose.
“Yes.” The elfin man suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. “You must believe me.”
“I hardly look like a magical elf.” She loomed over him with her hands on her hips. Although petite for a human, the elf was half her height.
“Do you remember your mother?” the elf said with a smirk.
“No,” Callixta was curt, not wanting to discuss a woman that she never knew with a stranger.
“She died in childbirth. With you,” the elf said, no longer smiling.
Callixta puffed her cheeks out with irritation.
“But you knew that,” the elf said examining her.
Other than that fact, she knew nothing of her mother. No one ever spoke of her, not even her father.
“That’s because she was an elf,” he said like it should all make sense.
Annoyed, Callixta remained silent, not wanting to engage in the conversation.
“Her name was Eslark. I’m her brother, Aklorn.”
Callixta didn’t want to hear it. There was no reason that she should believe him, so instead, she began walking again. Speaking to her the entire way, he expounded upon the history of how the elves numbers were dwindling so some married humans. Only a handful survived. Wary, Aklorn explained, elves lived separately from humans. Now, with so few elves, there weren’t enough to maintain the magical balance of nature.
When they were in view of the town wall, Callixta turned to Aklorn. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Tap into your magic,” he said like it should be obvious.
“How? And why now?” her voice was shrill.
“Tonight, there’s a full moon,” Aklorn explained quickly. “Meet me at Cromerthz Rocks just before midnight.”
“Do you mean the ancient ruins?” Callixta shook her head, wondering why she had entertained the little man so long.
“Yes, yes. But these rocks are alive having been strategically placed many eons ago. These ruins that you speak of generate magic once a month. With magic, you’d be able to heal people and our world.” Aklorn was bright with hopeful energy.
It was too much for her to fathom. Unable to find the words to dismiss the persistent elf, she quietly walked towards the gateway through to the town. The stone-wall prevented Aklorn from following her.

“Mother,” Elwyn called as he entered the sick room, later that day.
Callixta motioned for her twelve-year-old to be quiet, but to join her and her father tending to a patient.
“I met somebody in the woods, today,” Elwyn whispered.
Callixta nodded silently.
“He says I need to meet him tonight,” Elwyn continued. “Can I go?”
Abruptly, Callixta stopped what she was doing. “Did he tell you his name?”
“Aklorn. He said it was urgent,” Elwyn said, excitement bubbled from his animated behavior.
Callixta froze. “No.”
“Aklorn?” her father’s voice interrupted. “You saw him?”
“Father!” Callixta’s tone was sharp. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”
Instead of answering, her father looked from his daughter to his grandson, then returned to work. But it was clear that he had known all this time. And now the possibility of what Aklorn was saying could be true. But elves were crafty. Something seemed amiss. Now, Aklorn was trying to get her son to help him when she wouldn't. But of course, he was. Elwyn was part elf. The thought made Callixta nauseous.

Unable to sleep, Callixta tossed in her bed. For the last hour, she had been listening for any movement from her son who slept beyond a wall partition. Although she had forbidden him from meeting with Aklorn, she could understand the temptation. It was undeniable that she felt the pull of curiosity as well.
Rising as quietly as she could, she glanced at her son’s bed as she moved through their small home. Empty. Damn, she cursed. Callixta was sure she had seen him go to bed. Not entirely accurate, she corrected herself. She had hugged him, said goodnight and retreated to her side of the hung partition. Even though he acted like he was going to bed when he pulled back his blanket, Elwyn must have left when she had her back turned. There was no hesitation now as she strapped her sandals to her feet and pulled a light dress over her shift.
The moon was on the horizon as she entered the forest. With no greenery to block the full moon’s rays, she found her way without difficulty. Running quickly through the forest, she was sure that she sounded like a wild boar crashing through the undergrowth. No doubt, Aklorn would hear her coming. As she pressed onward, she couldn’t decide whether that was a good or bad thing.
Finally approaching the ruins, her breathing was ragged. Part of it was from the run and the other part from being terrified by Aklorn’s sneakiness.
“I’m glad you decided to join us,” Aklorn beckoned her to join him and her son in the middle of the stone circle.
“What have you done?” It was a question to both Elwyn and Aklorn.
“It’s ok mom,” Elwyn said. “Aklorn said if I drank this, that I could help him to end the drought.”
“What have you given my son to drink?” Callixta was furious.
“Just a little water from the Elfin Spring,” Aklorn said raising his eyebrows.
“It’s so sweet,” Elwyn said as he took another swig.
Callixta looked from one to the other. “The spring near Mirstone?”
“Indeed,” Aklorn nodded. “Elwyn must have more elf in him than I thought. His tolerance is high.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Callixta asked, wrought with concern.
“Mother, I’m fine,” Elwyn took a step forward then clutched his stomach. “I’m going to help save the forest.”
“You evil sprite,” Callixta hissed at Aklorn. “You’ve poisoned my son. How dare you.”
“Yes, I have.” Aklorn shrugged his shoulders. “It’s hard to know how quickly it will work. Full-grown men have a maximum of two days. But Elwyn here. He’s just young. Already dehydrated. But he is a quarter elf.” Aklorn paused to tilt his head. “I have no idea. Six hours. Four days. Or anything in between.”
“I don’t feel very well,” groaned Elwyn as he collapsed to his knees.
Callixta’s eyes stung with anger and tears. Just like the many people before, she knew that she couldn’t save her son. “What do you want from me?”
“Your magic.” Aklorn held out a flask of water.
“I don’t understand,” Callixta felt desperate.
“Don’t you want magic to fix your son?” Taking a step towards Callixta, Aklorn continued. “The water from Elfin Springs may kill humans, but it gives us our magic.”
Callixta hesitated. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then you’ll die together. At least you won’t mourn for each other.” Aklorn said without feeling.
“But you’re saying that if I become magical, that I could heal my son?”
“With my help, yes.” Aklorn pushed the waterskin into her hand.
Callixta lifted the flask to her lips then stopped. “What’s the catch?”
“Intelligent lady,” Aklorn smirked. “Of course there’s a catch. But what does it matter if your son’s life is at stake?”
Hating the fact that he was right, Callixta tipped the waterskin slightly. A droplet landed on her lips. Licking her lips, she could taste the sweetness about which everyone had raved. Her parched body screamed at her for her to drink more.
“Step into the moonlight when you drink,” Aklorn ordered.
As the moonlight touched her cheek, she took a swallow. Although she felt no different, she was acutely aware of her thirst. She hadn’t had the opportunity to drink this amount at one time in years. First, she took another quick swig, then drank deeply.
“That’s my girl,” Aklorn encouraged. “How do you feel?”
“The same,” Callixta replied feeling worried that although the water might not kill her, it might not give her magic to cure her son. She took another gulp.
“This is good. You shouldn’t feel different.” Aklorn squared his shoulders with confidence. “Not yet at least.”
“When?” Callixta looked at her writhing son desperate to know when she could try to help
him.