Books 1-3: A High Fantasy Novel, page 7
part #1 of A Talnarin Novel Boxed Series
“...I can’t just let her go free Lori, you know that. I want to help you, I do, but I will be the one punished when they find her gone tomorrow morning. Don’t ask this of me.”
As I look closer, I realize the guard bears a faint resemblance to Lori. Same dark hair and same light eyes. He is much taller than she and has a sterner face. He’s too young to be her father, but might be her brother.
“But, Frank, she hasn’t done anything to deserve this sentence. You know that. I mean, look at the poor thing.” They both snap their heads in my direction, and their eyes fill with identical pity. Definitely siblings. “She’s nothing more than skin and bones. Her wounds are open and still bleeding. She looks as if death will come for her in seconds. She came to our village for help and what did we do? We threw her in the cells and sentenced her to death for just trying to survive like the rest of us. Help her. Help me. Otherwise, you will have to live with the conscience of having a hand in killing this poor thing.”
Frank looks to Lori once more, face softening marginally. Lori smiles sweetly and pulls him into a swift hug. “Thank you. Thank you. No one will know you helped us. I promise.”
Releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I sway slightly on my feet and reach for the wall for balance. Frank steps back through the door with Lori following close behind. I grit my teeth, and follow.
Making it out the door, I find the lantern has been snuffed out. I assume it’s so we can make a break away in the shadows of the night. Makes sense I suppose, even though we won’t be able to see either. Somehow, I spot Lori roughly thirty paces out. She motions to me to hurry and I quicken my steps. As I near her side, she silently takes off behind the nearest building.
Edging along the wall, we make our way past the first ring to the second. In no time, we have reached the outskirts of town. Lori breaks into the tree line and stops suddenly.
I try to stop myself in time but don’t quite manage it. I lightly bump into the pack across Lori’s back. I hesitantly peek around her shoulder to see what the holdup is. She suddenly whirls around, her bag clipping my shoulder, causing me to stumble. I raise my arms over my head in a snap and flinch. After a slight pause, I glance up. She is once again watching me with those eyes full of pity. It angers me. I don’t need pity.
Unsure of her intentions, I keep my arms at my face just to be safe. She sighs softly and drops the bag to the ground as quietly as possible. She also reaches across to pull the bow and quiver free, then presents them to me in silence.
Confused and hesitant, I slowly extend my arm. Prepared to pull back immediately, I grip the bow and retreat.. I swiftly pull them over my back and secure the weapon. Next, she hands me the pack, but I wait to put it on. I’m too weak to carry it long term; I’ll put it on when I’m ready to leave.
She ruffles in her packet and pulls out some parchment. She opens it and thrusts it in my face. Startled, I pull back. She whispers so quietly I have to strain my ears to hear her words, “Take this map. I have marked where you are now and where Craforian is. At a decent pace, you should reach the town in about a week. Again, tell them I sent you, alright?”
When I don’t respond, she continues on. “I also mapped where a nearby cave is so you can rest easy for the night. Don’t worry about anyone coming for you. You’re not worth the effort.” I cringe. Ouch. “There’s enough food for the trip in the pack, plus a little extra to help you regain your energy. There are basic camping supplies for you too. I took the liberty of providing you with a change of clothes and some medical supplies to hold you over until you reach Craforian. Good luck and don’t forget to tell them who sent you. I hope to see you again.” Without a moment’s pause, she disappears back into the village.
Despite the less than civil things she said, I was going to thank her. After all, she did help me get out, even if only for her benefit. Well, too late for thanks now. I attempt to study the map in the darkness with no luck. Even with my eyes adjusted, I can only make out vague shapes.
I briefly search the outside of the pack, hoping for an attached light. Success. I carefully shoulder my pack and click on the light. With a quick glance, I note my location and my destination. I head for the cave hidden in the dol forest and don’t look back once.
Chapter 5
I finally found it.
It had taken a little over two hours to make the hike to the cave. The pack and my wounds severely slowed me down. I flip on the small light and survey the cave that will be my home for the next couple days. The outside is inconspicuous, and had it not been marked on the map, I would have overlooked it completely. The only entrance appears to be the small cutaway of rock along the cliff face. Luckily, it’s a large enough hole to allow me and the pack to comfortably move through hunched over. I make my way inside.
About twenty paces in, the entire cave expands to the size of a large meeting hall. The inside is much larger than the entrance and could easily house thirty people. There is a small fire pit in the center of the area with a stack of wood to the left. There is also cloth neatly folded to the far left along the wall and a bucket, with what appears to be water in it. My first order of action is to get the fire started.
Setting down the pack to grab a few chunks of wood from the bundle, I lay them in the pit. I discover a box of matches and flint to the side of the stack, managing to get the fire going in a few short minutes. Soon, the cave is filled with warm firelight, and I switch off my flashlight to save the batteries.
I rummage through the pack and lay everything across the floor carefully. There is enough food for a week, which I can extend if I’m conservative with my portions. With the bow, I now have another route for fresh meat, if my hunting is decent enough. Along with the food is a water bladder. Refilling it shouldn’t be a problem if I stick to the streams or rivers in the map I have.
Just like Lori said, I also find a change of clothes, two pairs of socks, and a pair of boots stuffed inside. It’s a simple tan cotton shirt and a pair of worn cloth pants. Inside is also a warm blanket, and a small cloth bundle. I slip the ties loose and peer inside the package. Bandages, cloth, and salve are safely nested inside.
Deciding my wounds are a priority, I pull out the bandages and medicine. I slowly strip the remains of the rags off my exhausted body. After the painstaking process, I reach for the pail of water in the corner and a square of clean cloth. I move to the far side of the cave, hoping to contain the filth to one area. I should probably clean up outside, but it’s not safe out in the open like that, naked and wounded as I am.
After I bath and dress, I gingerly apply the salve to my wounds. I’ll have to apply the salve daily to ensure my wounds don’t fester, I’m surprised they haven’t already become infected.
Once my wounds are dressed, I look over my supplies once more. These supplies increase the likelihood of my survival out there. Allowing myself a couple days to heal in the cave also greatly improves my odds. For the first time in a long while, I at last feel somewhat optimistic about my future. I know it won’t always go smoothly but at least I have a better chance than before. I just need to focus on getting stronger.
Once everything is placed back into the pack, I lay down by the fire to sleep.
THERE IS ONLY ONE OF Them left now. I hide behind a tree and cower as low as my body can go. I shake uncontrollably, and my teeth clatter loudly in the silence. My nerves are fraying rapidly at the thought of getting caught and dragged back, despite what They had said. While I don’t necessarily believe in the Gods anymore, I still pray They don’t find me. I’m not above trying anything to avoid my recapture. Anything but sacrificing others—I won’t stoop that low, even now.
I peek around my hiding place as quietly as I’m able. I almost gasp at the sight of Him steadily making his way towards my tree. Whipping my head around, I clench my teeth together so tightly I can almost hear them crack. Please don’t find me. Please. Please. Keep moving. Go away. Go. Go. GO. Leave. Leave. This isn’t happening. I’m so close.
A twig snaps right behind my tree and I flinch. I squeeze my eyes closed and hold my breath. Please. Please. Please. Oh my Gods. Go away. I can’t take this anymore. I want to go home. I just want to see my family again. Please. No.
My eyes snap open at the familiar smooth, hypnotic voice that says, “Run, Little Bhria. Run home now, you don’t want to be late. I won’t stop you, I give you my word.”
I curl into myself and will my eyes closed once more. I grip my head with my hands. I don’t know how much time passes before I finally gather the courage to open my eyes and look upon Him. I jerk myself into a sitting position and shakily search all around me.
He is gone and didn’t take me with Him. It feels like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle, but my mind is too scattered to makes sense of anything. I can go home now.
Tears flood down my cheeks. A tentative smile snakes its way across my face and I scramble to stand up, steadying myself against the tree that failed to hide me from the Monster. I can really go home. Hope blooms inside my chest. Before I can think to squash the emotion, it consumes me completely.
I know hope can be a bad thing, but I tell myself it’s fine just this once. Everything is going to be alright now. He let me go. He didn’t stop me so I’m free. He doesn’t want me anymore. I’m finally going home.
I stumble away from my tree and walk forward in an unsteady gait. I’m not sure if this is the direction that will lead me home, but at least I’m not headed the way I saw the Others go. Anywhere but where they went is good enough. I can maybe climb a tree and look for village that way. Maybe if I walk in this direction for a while I’ll be able to hear the village activity. I will figure it out. I will get home because He actually let me go. I’m really going home.
I startle awake, sweat soaking my brow and tears staining my cheeks. It was just a dream. That’s all it is now, nothing more than a bad dream. I will my mind to go blank.
With my dreams haunting me, my sleep is restless and I’m left just as tired as before. What I wouldn’t give for a dreamless night free from the taint from the past. But these dreams are my reminder; they are my punishment. I deserve worse. I deserve a worse punishment for my sins. Even knowing that, I am afraid of it actually getting worse. I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Thoughts turning grim, I push them aside and stretch my aching limbs as much as I am able, without antagonizing my wounds.
There is a bit of a chill in the cave, the fire nothing more than a few glowing embers. I add in fresh tinder and nurse the fire back to life. Once the shadows of the darkness are chased away, I lie down once more.
THREE DAYS HAVE PASSED since my arrival at the village, and I’ve spent two days in this cave. I quickly fell into a routine of eating, sleeping, and tending to my wounds. The near constant rest has helped my body, my wounds, and my mind. I feel much stronger and healthier.
Not being as weak, my body is able to focus much of its attention to the healing process. Most of the aches and pains have all but disappeared, and the bleeding has stopped completely. Some of the shallower wounds have even healed. I guess it’s one perk of being more like Them.
That thought fills me with bitterness. There’s nothing good about being like Them. I don’t want to be thankful for any changes They made. I don’t want to acknowledge any benefits to this situation. Nothing about what They did was ‘good.’ I shove all those thoughts away.
Perhaps the best part of this break is connecting with the emotional shit I actually had time to open up. From the start of my journey some time ago, I have been skittish and terrified, constantly looking over my shoulder for the ghosts of my past. My reprieve in this hole is that I’ve had ample time to sort through my thoughts and emotions. In these two days, I have accepted—as much as I can, anyway—my shitty and unfortunate circumstances. I had time to analyze why my life got this way and who I can blame, so my anger has a much-needed outlet.
I have always been afraid to let my anger consume me. I was afraid the old me couldn’t come back. I was afraid I wouldn’t be me anymore. But, I am no longer afraid. I don’t want to come back anymore. I don’t want to be me anymore. I can’t be me anymore. My old life is gone and there is nothing I can do to change that. I need to adapt. I need to embrace this new life in order to get stronger, to prevent something like this from happening to me ever again.
With my acceptance, it was like a flood of emotion swept through. In my fit, I tore apart the cave. I raged and screamed for hours, though what I yelled, I can’t recall. I vented everything I had bottled up until my exhaustion won and I slept against the wall.
I woke feeling rested for once. My dreams were less frequent and my thoughts far less scattered. The past was not on repeat in my head as often as before. A tentative peace has stuck around much longer than any time since my escape.
Now that I’ve reached the point where I can walk without pain and with only slight discomfort, I plan to head out after breakfast. I gather everything I’ll need into the pack and lay it by the entrance to the cave.
Before I laid down to rest last night, I also mapped out my next course. There’s a small village, called Nahann, just a few days out, and it’s in the opposite direction from the town Lori mentioned. Lori said that Craforian was a place for both humans and Them, but I just don’t see how that is possible. There has to be more to it than that. These two groups just don’t mix. I’m staying clear unless absolutely necessary.
I douse the flames with the dirty water in the pail and shoulder my pack. I slip the last loaf of bread from the side pouch and munch as I leave the cave. A few hours earlier, I had wandered outside to take care of some business and noted the time. The sun was still some ways off from rising, but now it’s just beginning to peak over the horizon. With a sigh, I start my journey once more.
Chapter 6
I finally arrive at the village of Nahann. The sun in the sky tells me it’s around mid-morning, too early to venture closer and scan the town. Since my last encounter with a human village, I’ve decided it’s better to be exceptionally cautious. Another encounter like that could mean permanent imprisonment or death. There is no guarantee another villager will aid my escape.
Waiting until dusk gives me ample coverage in the shadows to learn the layout of the town. Then, I can narrow down the location with the best pickings.
The idea of stealing provisions bothers me more than I care to admit. However, I can’t afford to let my conscience win. If I do, I won’t survive. I ran out of food two days ago, and my body is already weak from the trek here. The journey was only supposed to take a couple days, but I grossly underestimated the strain it would have on me. I figured the strength I gained in the cave would carry me longer than it did, and that miscalculation set me back.
Hunting proved to be highly unsuccessful. I learned the hard way that target practice is pointless with live prey. Most shots had missed, and those that did connect never slowed the creatures down enough to catch. Yesterday, I finally came to the hard decision to steal food from the town I was nearing. I had to be careful. There would be no explaining myself out of that mess if they caught me.
I stash my supplies in a nearby tree, making sure they remain high in the tree out of sight. I slip my bow and quiver over my shoulder and tiptoe to the edge of town. Once there, I hide myself in the shadows of a giant dol tree. I crouch down, waiting. This town looks like the last one, with at least one noticeable difference. Unlike the well-kept homes of the last village, the dwellings here are dilapidated and near ruin. Boards are missing from the walls and roofs, almost as if they snapped in the wind. The villagers’ attire is in the same state as their homes: dirty and worn. The faces of these people are haggard and old.
Most surprising of all, though, is the state of the plaza and town hall. The town hall represents wealth and power for the entire village. So much care and attention goes into the upkeep of the center piece of each town. Yet, in this town, it looks like the villagers give no attention to their hall and plaza. The stones in the plaza are broken and uneven, like a mazir—a giant creature with eight legs—swept through the ground and upended the tiles in a flurry. The hall itself is in much the same condition as the surrounding dwellings, broken and in disarray.
As I survey the town, I second guess my decision to steal from them. The longer I look, it becomes increasingly obvious this village is struggling with their finances and likely has been for years. Yet I can’t allow myself to be influenced by their circumstances. I need food.
I won’t get to the nearest village for at least a week, and I need something to tide me over until I find other means to support myself. I grudgingly make the decision to steal—I can’t allow myself to sway. Besides from the looks of it, the fields are faring well. A handful of townspeople are working , and their baskets are full.
Maybe the state of their town isn’t a good indication of their wares or livelihood. Coin comes from the market, not the village production of goods. Perhaps this town trades within itself rather than risking outside barter. If that’s the case, then food shouldn’t be a problem here.
I’ll steal a small amount today and come back for more later. They might not even notice anything is missing. I’m only going to take what I need and nothing more.
Dusk arrives fairly quickly and before I know it, it’s time to make my move. I had most of the day to ponder and plan. I deliberated over everything again and again while nerves and guilt ate away at me. Despite what I told myself, nothing could shave off the guilt wedging its way into my stomach. Telling yourself theft is necessary, and actually believing it, are two very different things.
I hastily tuck my shirt in my pants and push off from behind the tree. Keeping my steps light and my breathing muted, I crouch low as I move through the shadows to a nearby field. My eyes dart everywhere in search of any townsperson still lingering outside. Although I watched them all leave for home, I’m paranoid.
