already, I thought, as he sighted me and charged a second time, with one thing in mind: to take me with him when he died.
I closed my eyes in anticipation of the creature slamming into me and knocking me to the ground, where I would die; my friends would never know what had happened to me and would still expect me to appear again in Caernadvall. I heard a bone crunching thud and a grunt, but still I hung from the branch, wondering why I had not felt the pain of a fatal blow. When the blow never came and I had hung there for a bit, I opened my eyes and looked around, but the creature was nowhere to be seen. My first thought was that I had died before the pain could register, then I wondered how the scene could possibly be the same, absent the beast. I looked down and saw my opponent’s huge body sprawled out on the ground below my feet, lying in its final resting place.
I swung myself backward and away from the dead creature so that I would not land on it and dropped from the branch, landing silently on hands and feet. I walked over to the being and tentatively poked him with my foot, making sure he was dead. He was, so I removed my sword with a grunt, the weapon had been buried in the creature’s flesh up to the quillon. The thick liquid seeping from the beast’s deep wound was a bit darker than human blood and it began to pour freely when I removed the sword.
I walked over to my discarded pack, which fortunately had been missed by the creature’s trampling feet and hoisted it onto my back by one of the two straps and slung my cloak over my opposite shoulder. Before leaving the clearing, I called upon Lietha to set the lifeless body on fire. Once it was no more than a pile of ashes, I made sure of the direction I was facing and began running at a speed that no human could reach.
~ ~ ~
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had not eaten anything since the previous day, and if I wanted to keep my strength up I would have to eat soon. Once I chose a place to rest, I sat down with my back to a huge oak and ate, ridding myself of some of the more perishable food. The leaves on the tree behind me rustled as if there were a breeze blowing through them, but there was no breeze—at least none that I could feel from below. I looked into the heights of the tree and could see nothing that would disturb them; I then noticed that there seemed to be a rhythm to the whispering of the leaves. I listened to the subtle noises and realized that words were forming. Welcome, doom-slayer.
“What did you say?”
Welcome, friend of magic and mystery. A chill went down my spine as the slow, wispy voice continued. We have been waiting many long years for you to return to us.
“Why have you been waiting for me?”
You must find that out on your own, young Izotz.
“How do you know my name?”
We know much more than that, I am afraid. You must save us. The whispering of the wind in the leaves died out after one final, echoing word: Run. I turned and hurried off in the waning path of the sun. Through the small patches of sky that I occasionally glanced upon, peeking through the treetops, I could tell that night was steadily approaching, and though I could see perfectly well in the dark with my enhanced sight, I was still sure that I did not want to meet any more unfamiliar creatures that night, friendly or otherwise.
I raced across the forest floor until the last rays of the sun were setting on the hidden horizon and climbed high into the reaches of one of the enormous oaks that surrounded me. I leapt from branch to branch until I was midway up the trunk, where I secured my belongings before ascending to the tree’s peak. When I reached it, I realized that my search for a good vantage point had been futile; only a few hundred feet to the West the tree-tops rose to obscure my view of anything beyond. Annoyed that I could not see my target location, I sat at the top of the tree and brooded. I could see the top of the Wall
I closed my eyes in anticipation of the creature slamming into me and knocking me to the ground, where I would die; my friends would never know what had happened to me and would still expect me to appear again in Caernadvall. I heard a bone crunching thud and a grunt, but still I hung from the branch, wondering why I had not felt the pain of a fatal blow. When the blow never came and I had hung there for a bit, I opened my eyes and looked around, but the creature was nowhere to be seen. My first thought was that I had died before the pain could register, then I wondered how the scene could possibly be the same, absent the beast. I looked down and saw my opponent’s huge body sprawled out on the ground below my feet, lying in its final resting place.
I swung myself backward and away from the dead creature so that I would not land on it and dropped from the branch, landing silently on hands and feet. I walked over to the being and tentatively poked him with my foot, making sure he was dead. He was, so I removed my sword with a grunt, the weapon had been buried in the creature’s flesh up to the quillon. The thick liquid seeping from the beast’s deep wound was a bit darker than human blood and it began to pour freely when I removed the sword.
I walked over to my discarded pack, which fortunately had been missed by the creature’s trampling feet and hoisted it onto my back by one of the two straps and slung my cloak over my opposite shoulder. Before leaving the clearing, I called upon Lietha to set the lifeless body on fire. Once it was no more than a pile of ashes, I made sure of the direction I was facing and began running at a speed that no human could reach.
~ ~ ~
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I had not eaten anything since the previous day, and if I wanted to keep my strength up I would have to eat soon. Once I chose a place to rest, I sat down with my back to a huge oak and ate, ridding myself of some of the more perishable food. The leaves on the tree behind me rustled as if there were a breeze blowing through them, but there was no breeze—at least none that I could feel from below. I looked into the heights of the tree and could see nothing that would disturb them; I then noticed that there seemed to be a rhythm to the whispering of the leaves. I listened to the subtle noises and realized that words were forming. Welcome, doom-slayer.
“What did you say?”
Welcome, friend of magic and mystery. A chill went down my spine as the slow, wispy voice continued. We have been waiting many long years for you to return to us.
“Why have you been waiting for me?”
You must find that out on your own, young Izotz.
“How do you know my name?”
We know much more than that, I am afraid. You must save us. The whispering of the wind in the leaves died out after one final, echoing word: Run. I turned and hurried off in the waning path of the sun. Through the small patches of sky that I occasionally glanced upon, peeking through the treetops, I could tell that night was steadily approaching, and though I could see perfectly well in the dark with my enhanced sight, I was still sure that I did not want to meet any more unfamiliar creatures that night, friendly or otherwise.
I raced across the forest floor until the last rays of the sun were setting on the hidden horizon and climbed high into the reaches of one of the enormous oaks that surrounded me. I leapt from branch to branch until I was midway up the trunk, where I secured my belongings before ascending to the tree’s peak. When I reached it, I realized that my search for a good vantage point had been futile; only a few hundred feet to the West the tree-tops rose to obscure my view of anything beyond. Annoyed that I could not see my target location, I sat at the top of the tree and brooded. I could see the top of the Wall
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