using magic? I shook my thoughts
away again, counting steps… I was miles from home. A home I might
never return to.
I forced myself forward
through the day, only stopping momentarily at a patch of berries
and twice to drink. The berries were much less palatable without
the guiding hand of an elf but the stream water was cool and
refreshing. As evening approached I began to get uncomfortable
about the coming darkness, aloneness. Not that I hadn’t spent my
share of time alone at home, just not alone in the middle of a
strange forest, outside, really alone. I considered running through the night and
sleeping during the day, but eventually decided to find
shelter before nightfall. I slowed my pace and gave my surroundings a little
more attention.
A half mile or so later, I
came upon a suitable hollow in a low embankment. I gathered some
shrubbery to cover the entryway and give me a little more security,
or at least the feeling of it. It wasn’t dark yet but I went ahead
and settled in, sitting so I could see through an opening in the
shrub door I’d created. It was quiet and I had to fight the
thoughts that were trying to creep in. I began to run songs through
my head for distraction, mangling the lyrics and humming through
the parts I couldn’t remember at all. … and
she’s a tall long dawn…. wanna freedom of drink… yeah, yeah,
yeah …
A flicker of movement just
outside stopped me. I held my breath for what I was sure was
impending, and painful, death. There it was again. I blew the
breath out. No, not my
last . A small gray bunny was loping a few
feet in front of the bushes. My stomach was interested, but I’d
never prepared meat, I’d only ever gathered berries and vegetables
(that someone else had grown). I didn’t have the first idea how to
make a bow, let alone shoot one. I’d never actually killed
anything, except plants. And a bird. Yes, I’d killed a bird. But I had no idea if an
animal killed by magic was viable. I thought of the thistle, its
black roots, how it had turned to ash. The bunny sniffed at the air
in my direction and then continued on its way. Well, that answers that.
I was sitting in a hole, utterly alone, and
it was beginning to get dark. I lit a small flame and decided to
practice my fire magic. I leaned forward and danced the little
flame back and forth in front of me. My control had progressed a
good deal since my training; it seemed almost easy to navigate a
small flame. I smoothed it out into a line and traced arcs and then
more intricate designs. The designs started to resemble portraits
and I had to concentrate hard to keep from seeing them. I tried to
focus on landscapes and then those went from tiny village houses
and small trees to rolling hills and curving creeks and then the
hills to mountains that eventually melted into unidentifiable
monsters. I snuffed the flame with a wave and the den was black
with darkness. The clouds broke and the soft glow of moonlight
filtered in through the opening. I leaned over on an elbow and
examined the glistening patches of light on my twisting hand. I
lowered my head, using my arm as a pillow, and fell into a peaceful
sleep.
Chapter Seven
Steed
The next morning, I woke to find rays of sun
had replaced the moonlight in the tiny hole. I considered covering
my head and sleeping longer but my stomach ached for food. I
crawled out and squinted through the bright light to find
something, anything really. I was able to locate a few roots and
greens, not great, but enough to tide me over until I could figure
out a way to hunt.
I grabbed my pack and headed north again.
There were plenty of streams and the occasional berry patch along
the way. And the route was undemanding; the ground was smooth,
nothing too overgrown to make passage difficult. I carried on
without incident for days as the rolling hills continued, making
each new day a surprise. I was glad; this might have seemed
daunting if I could have
away again, counting steps… I was miles from home. A home I might
never return to.
I forced myself forward
through the day, only stopping momentarily at a patch of berries
and twice to drink. The berries were much less palatable without
the guiding hand of an elf but the stream water was cool and
refreshing. As evening approached I began to get uncomfortable
about the coming darkness, aloneness. Not that I hadn’t spent my
share of time alone at home, just not alone in the middle of a
strange forest, outside, really alone. I considered running through the night and
sleeping during the day, but eventually decided to find
shelter before nightfall. I slowed my pace and gave my surroundings a little
more attention.
A half mile or so later, I
came upon a suitable hollow in a low embankment. I gathered some
shrubbery to cover the entryway and give me a little more security,
or at least the feeling of it. It wasn’t dark yet but I went ahead
and settled in, sitting so I could see through an opening in the
shrub door I’d created. It was quiet and I had to fight the
thoughts that were trying to creep in. I began to run songs through
my head for distraction, mangling the lyrics and humming through
the parts I couldn’t remember at all. … and
she’s a tall long dawn…. wanna freedom of drink… yeah, yeah,
yeah …
A flicker of movement just
outside stopped me. I held my breath for what I was sure was
impending, and painful, death. There it was again. I blew the
breath out. No, not my
last . A small gray bunny was loping a few
feet in front of the bushes. My stomach was interested, but I’d
never prepared meat, I’d only ever gathered berries and vegetables
(that someone else had grown). I didn’t have the first idea how to
make a bow, let alone shoot one. I’d never actually killed
anything, except plants. And a bird. Yes, I’d killed a bird. But I had no idea if an
animal killed by magic was viable. I thought of the thistle, its
black roots, how it had turned to ash. The bunny sniffed at the air
in my direction and then continued on its way. Well, that answers that.
I was sitting in a hole, utterly alone, and
it was beginning to get dark. I lit a small flame and decided to
practice my fire magic. I leaned forward and danced the little
flame back and forth in front of me. My control had progressed a
good deal since my training; it seemed almost easy to navigate a
small flame. I smoothed it out into a line and traced arcs and then
more intricate designs. The designs started to resemble portraits
and I had to concentrate hard to keep from seeing them. I tried to
focus on landscapes and then those went from tiny village houses
and small trees to rolling hills and curving creeks and then the
hills to mountains that eventually melted into unidentifiable
monsters. I snuffed the flame with a wave and the den was black
with darkness. The clouds broke and the soft glow of moonlight
filtered in through the opening. I leaned over on an elbow and
examined the glistening patches of light on my twisting hand. I
lowered my head, using my arm as a pillow, and fell into a peaceful
sleep.
Chapter Seven
Steed
The next morning, I woke to find rays of sun
had replaced the moonlight in the tiny hole. I considered covering
my head and sleeping longer but my stomach ached for food. I
crawled out and squinted through the bright light to find
something, anything really. I was able to locate a few roots and
greens, not great, but enough to tide me over until I could figure
out a way to hunt.
I grabbed my pack and headed north again.
There were plenty of streams and the occasional berry patch along
the way. And the route was undemanding; the ground was smooth,
nothing too overgrown to make passage difficult. I carried on
without incident for days as the rolling hills continued, making
each new day a surprise. I was glad; this might have seemed
daunting if I could have
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