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Rated: 13+ | Book | Fantasy | #1837689
A dark modern fantasy about a dryad hybrid who wants to be less magical and more mundane.
Prologue:




I am so not going. I mean, it's not like they really need a priestess to complete the ritual. It's not even a real ritual. I look in the mirror, indifferently observing a pair of big green eyes, a too pale face surrounded by dark red hair, noticing with a frown that my hair has come undone, again. I think about the upcoming ritual, knowing that I will go. I have been taught from a very young age that a druid priestess has many responsibilities that she can not ignore, or refuse to fulfill.



I was raised by druids, my parents having brought me to them after I inadvertently summoned a plant, well, more than one actually. I summoned the whole garden, our house was filled with winding vines that had nothing to do but search for their summoner, me, who was hiding in a closet terrified of her step-mothers reaction. It was really not good, her reaction that is. She scooped me up, carried me outside to my father (yelling all the while about her ruined furniture), tossed me unceremoniously into my father's arms and stomped back into the house, slamming the door behind her.



My father, bless him, said nothing. He just looked at me with those sad brown eyes and shook his head, which was far worse than anything she could do or say. I knew even then that I was different. My mother had been a dryad, a tree spirit, that could take human form. She met my father when he was scouting her forest for rogue goblins. (My dad really doesn't like goblins.) Her tree had been injured by them, the goblins that is, and she was very ill because of it. She asked my father to help her, he did of course, being a ranger and a friend to the forest, and they fell in love. My father tells the story much better than I do.



When I was born, my mother made my father promise to take me somewhere safe and raise me. I am not a spirit who can take human form, I'm a human with an affinity for plants and nature. My mother's gift to me was the ability to summon plants. I'm guessing she wasn't thinking about the realities of a toddler summoning plants to play with. Plants don't have eyes and can't maneuver around furniture very well, they seem to end up going through it, which would be okay if the furniture didn't break.



I pull myself back to the present. My job tonight is to represent our Grove. Tomorrow, I leave to find my mother and convince her to help me stop being the freaky plant-summoning girl.


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