He found her on the porch, amidst the baskets of begonias, looking small and frail in the oversized wicker rocker. She turned at the sound of his steps, her dark hair blazing with autumn fire where the shafts of late afternoon sunlight fell upon it. She was thinner now, and paler, and her brown eyes had become too large for her face. He felt the deep wonderful swell of power fill him at the sight of her, as it always did. Today it seemed stronger than ever, and he suppressed an involuntary shudder at its sweet, dark tug. He was her protector, and he was blessed.

She smiled wanly at him, tucking her feet up under her, in order to give him room to pull a stool up, and sit at her feet. Her eyes grew soft as she met his worshipping gaze, and she wondered once more how he could love her so, and have so much faith after so long a time.

How long had it been? She no longer knew. Time had ceased to have any meaning for her. There was only an undetermined number of days, each morning filled with hope, each evening ending in despair, as she tried to recall herself to the world, and failed. And yet, he still believed. He remained faithful, unwavering. He provided her with shelter, food, clothing, and asked nothing in return except to love her. She stroked his cheek tenderly, acknowledging her gratitude, and wondering why this could not make her happy..to be so loved. Surely this devotion should fill the aching void in her heart. Surely what she had lost could not be as constant, as sustaining, as his love.

He was also her last connection to the truth. He was the one who had seen, who had believed. He had spoken of it when he had found her wandering alone there in the wood, lost and hurt. She had lost herself then somehow. She could not remember how she came to be there. The only thing that had survived whatever trauma she had faced had been the knowing. She knew something lived inside..that she had lost a connection..an important purpose. But she could not remember what it was, or how to return to her true self. She tried..oh how she tried. A night did not go past without her calling and singing half forgotten phrases, reaching with everything she had for the power that she knew had been hers. But always she failed, and each day she became less sure..less real.

And he? He never lost hope, never gave up. He looked up at her now, his eyes warm, full of love and sympathy. "Are you ready to try again?" he asked softly.

She leaned back in the chair, closed her eyes wearily, and sighed. "Why do we do this?" she asked in turn. "Why do we try? If there ever was anything, it's gone now. Perhaps it was never real. Perhaps we imagined it, and you were mistaken."

"No!" he said sharply. Seeing her eyes snap open at his tone, he gentled it, and continued. "I saw. I am a witness. It is real, for I have beheld you in the light of your power. You must try."

She looked miserably into his eyes, and saw there the earnest conviction of his words. Yes. She believed him, and as always that belief compelled her to do as she must..to try.

"I will prepare then." she whispered.

*******************************************************************************

The sun was almost down, and she moved about the dim room, placing candles in strange, half remembered patterns. He brought her a silver cup, filled with a warm, odd tasting, spiced wine to help her relax. She took it from him dutifully, and gazed at him over the rim as she drank. She had at first been reluctant to add the wine to the ceremony, but he had been so concerned about her, and she had been too tense and wild those first few times. She had discovered that it eased the pain of her failures, helping her to become numb.

She returned the empty cup, and sank to the floor in the midst of the pattern of candles. He moved close to the wall to stand silent vigil. She never remembered anything after the trance, so he stood as her witness. She composed her features, and stared at a blank section of the wall, her hands open in her lap as if in supplication. She emptied her mind, and the words came as they always did, in an ever-increasing wave. She chanted slowly at first, and then more rapidly as she let them fill and consume her.

"Brothers, Sisters..oh ye of the wild ones, hear me! I am lost in a strange place, and I seek the power which has been my gift since I opened blind eyes to the world. Return to me that which is my birthright, oh ye of the hunt, of the blood, of the moon, of the singing. Restore me to what I truly am and banish that which binds me. Break the bars of this cage which constrains my free spirit, and let me run free again!"

He listened as she continued, calling on the elements and the Goddess, his heart pounding with a bittersweet mixture of love and fear. It was this moment that defined his existence, that justified his adoration, that terrified and moved him as nothing else could. He watched as the change began..as her face sharpened and began to glow..as her eyes shifted from brown to gold. She began to rise, her arms lifted as more of the strange chant poured forth. Her hair crackled with electricity and flew wildly about her face.

She had gone farther this time than ever before, and his mouth was suddenly dry with fear. Just when he thought that there would be no stopping her, she faltered, her eyes flickering, her tongue growing thick, her expression changing from wild to bewildered. The words became halted, and eventually stopped, as she slumped to the floor, blinking and listless.

The silence in the room was palpable. She looked around her, dazed and disoriented, her eyes finally focusing on him. Her voice was hoarse, and cracked as she whispered. "Was there anything? Did you see anything happen?"

He forced his pounding heart to stillness, keeping his gaze on the floor until he could compose his features. When he finally looked up into her eyes and spoke his expression was deep and sorrowful, and full of blazing, terrible love.

"No, beloved. I saw nothing. I'm sorry..perhaps tomorrow?"

She began to tremble, and tears filled her eyes. He rushed into the circle to hold her, to soothe her, his hands stroking her hair, his voice murmuring soft wordless comfort. She leaned into him and clutched at his collar, eventually allowing the rhythm of his heart and his slow rocking to pull her down into exhausted, heartbroken sleep.

He carried her to their bed, pulling her close, and wrapping her protectively in his arms, letting the soft sound of her breathing fill his world.

She was precious...rare..beautiful. And she was his.