Chapter 739 - Frost Moon Ⅵ

Rowan remains silent lost in thought until at long last the sound of hooves trotting across snow can be clearly heard. A blurring, white, scaled figure darts ahead of the trotting hooves rushing through the trees, before hurling itself right at Rowan. "Protector!" Nadira happily said in English. She did not speak in serpent speak before others when the presence of the protector. Nadira knew that the protector wished to keep identity as a parselmouth a secret. And Nadira would not fail the protector, whom she considered her closest kin!

The beautiful, white albino Great Horned serpent happily twined around the figure of Rowan. The serpent was now twice as large and had grown as thick as Rowan's torso. The soft nubs on Nadira's head had begun to slowly harden to resemble more that of tiny horns. The brilliant blue gemstone in the middle of Nadira's forehead glistens mystically as her sapphire-colored eyes glisten with delight.

Practically purring, Nadira rubs her smooth, scaled head against the Protector's face. Letting out a soft sigh, Rowan mutters, "You are getting far much too large and heavy to be doing this, Nadira."

"Never!" Nadira vehemently protested with guilt. She had been growing more and more as of late especially being so well fed by the merfolk. But then again, she was a Great Horned Snake, and their kind grew to extraordinary lengths. Her own snake mother had easily been over 100 feet long! (And she only knew this because of the creature inheritance that her Great Snake Mother had left her.)

Gently patting Nadira on the head, Rowan lifts her gaze as the hooves sound louder through the snow. Emerging from the shadows is a familiar young centaur, Firenze. The teenage boy with a swimmer's build, white-blond hair, and a palomino body. His blue-like eyes that gleam like the brightest and palest of sapphires seemed much more solemn, m.a.t.u.r.e than the last time she had seen him.

Rowan's eyes flicker to a corner of his c.h.e.s.t where four fangs formed together to create a rune symbol, that of a seer. Ever since Nadira had marked Firenze as the next shaman for the centaur tribe, Firenze's life had changed. He was no longer a foolish outcast, but the third most powerful figure within the tribe directly below the current Shaman and Chief of the Centaur tribe, Magorian. Then again, Stan Lee had worded it best, "With great power comes great responsibility."

A tired, but sincere smile appears on Firenze's handsome face causing Rowan's own lips to smile back. It was a shame, really, but Firenze was quite the lovely spectacle. If only his lower extremities weren't that of a horse. Maybe for some other witch that wouldn't be an impediment nor obstacle, however for Rowan that was a dealbreaker. And there was nothing wrong with her appreciating the natural charms of Firenze. No, there certainly was not.

"Child of the Founders," Firenze greeted her as his breath let out a puff of air in the cold night, "always an honor as always, Rowan Prince."

"Firenze," Rowan nodded her head back in greeting as Nadira reluctantly loosened her grip on Rowan. "I promised that I would return upon the next full moon."

"Yes," Firenze paused as his sapphire gaze rose to the starry night. There is a breath of silence as he thoughtfully muses out loud. "Saturn, Jupiter, and Venus will a line. Three forces will intersect-."

Firenze vibrant sapphire-colored eyes pull away from the starry heaven to settle solemnly onto Rowan. Rowan tries not to flinch of the seemingly knowing eyes of the teenage centaur. "Come, the hour grows late, Child of the Founders," Firenze matter-of-factly stated, before kneeling onto the forest ground.

Vividly recalling the reaction of the centaurs on their most recent encounter, Rowan drily says, "Are you certain that is wise, Firenze? I recall most vehement protests and language from your tribe the last time, you made such an offer."

"They would not dare to protest this time," Firenze self-assuredly replied as he gestured for her to climb onto his back.

Letting out a sigh, Rowan quickly clambers onto the back of Firenze. With a small huff, Firenze rises to his feet causing Rowan to narrow her eyes at Firenze. This better not be Firenze's subtle way of telling her that she had put on winter weight! She was under a lot of stress, and she had been snacking to keep up her energy to complete her Prefect duties!

Already familiar with what to do, Rowan wraps her hands around his c.h.e.s.t, before Firenze rushes off at a steady trot. Despite the cold, Firenze like every other centaur goes about with a b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t. She'd been too distracted last time to notice that Firenze gave off heat like a warm stove. However, in the summer months, the centaurs always appeared to be cool.

Curious, Rowan asked, "Firenze, pardon my asking, but is there a charm or spell that the Shaman casts over the tribe to regulate body temperature during the summer and winter months? Or is it a natural gift that all centaurs naturally possess?

Firenze lets out a soft chuckle at her words. "Always ever curious, Child of the Founders," Firenze said with some amus.e.m.e.nt releasing a puff of warm air. "It is a bit of both for all centaurs can cast warm or cool magic upon themselves. However, the very young such as newborns and the very elderly have difficulty doing so, therefore the Shaman casts such invocations upon them."

Well, it certainly made sense to Rowan that the centaurs would naturally be proficient at using such a type of magic. In ancient times, a slave, who was hardier lived longer and was able to procreate more slaves. The slave owners of centaurs and if magical would have ensured that centaurs were bred properly to ensure that such a characteristic would be passed down to later generations. A terrible practice, but one that would have ensured that the best and most d.e.s.i.r.ed qualities would be passed down to ensure the best quality of slaves.

Now thousands of years later, in the present, traces of the centaur's tragic ancient past were still present and applicable even to this day. With magical lands few and far in between especially with the ever-growing presence of muggles, Centaur tribes in the present-day lived in a magical wildlife refuge with a wide variety of terrain. Even until this day, that same ability permitted Centaur tribes to adapt and survive in their surroundings, no matter how harsh the surrounding. A blessing born out of tragedy and horror.

Despite the snowy terrain, Firenze remained surefooted as they made their way deep into the Forbidden Forest past the clearing full of Thestral's and even further past the clearing, where the battle with the Giants and Acromantula's took place. As Firenze nimbly made his way past the dense forest terrain, Rowan did not spot a single web nor trace of the Acromantula's. This area of the forest must solely belong to the centaur's, and the centaurs, well, were a bit territorial. They'd probably hunt down any Acromantula's in their territory just as any Acromantula would attempt to feast upon any centaur found wandering in their web.

Before Rowan can ask how much further the centaur village was, a white blur flashed through the trees as Nadira races eagerly ahead of them to arrive at the centaur village. "We are not far now, Child of the Founders," Firenze said at spotting Nadira eagerly racing ahead of them.

Rowan tightens her grip on Firenze in relief as her posterior was rather numb at this point. She'd no doubt be terribly sore in the morning much like the last time, but at least the ride was almost over for the time being. The forest grew denser with thorny bushes that grew as tall as twelve feet planted purposefully between the trees to create a natural barrier. The only opening within the wall of thorns is a hidden, but carefully cut open pathway in the copse.