Forlorn
By Michael Butz
The thought of somebody chasing after him percolated
within his head, trying to twist his already knotted stomach into a warren of
fear and confusion. The man had told Arlain that somebody was after them
looking for Erm, and wanted to leave it at that. Several stunned moments
of staring off beyond the distant rise passed as the thoughts swam through his
clouded mind.
“We need to leave.” The man said as
he proceeded to kick dirt over the fire.
Erm snapped out of his mental daze
and directed Jaidaen to walk closer to the man. “No!” He said, “You need
to start answering some questions damn it,” A tone of demand touched his voice,
as he dismounted Jaidaen. “We’re not going anywhere until you start talking!”
The man took his attention away from
stomping out the remaining embers to give Erm a flat stare, his face a complete
blank.
“Who in Hehl is after us, and what
under the Father do they want with me!” The words spilled out of Erm’s
mouth. He was taken aback to find himself motioning emphasis with both
his hands, and he looked questioningly at his right arm. It had been
broken only minutes ago and causing him a great deal of pain. “And
what on Ea did you do to my arm!” Arlain, who had been before him in
confronting the man was now staring at his arm startled.
After a moment of staring at one
another the man returned his attention to the fire, continuing to step out
coals that were already. Turning his back he started off walking towards
one of the near by oak tree.
“The blood of the ancients runs deep
in these lands.” The man said almost to himself without stopping or turning
around. Before Erm could demand an answer the man continued. “Do you
remember what happened in the day of that first storm?” Only then did he turn
slightly to glance at Erm. “Somehow you were able to touch the Flow. You
called that first storm Erm.
“The forests must have granted you
luck…” The man began but was interrupted.
“What in the name of the Mother are
you talking about? Are you saying I
killed my Uncle?” Erm’s voice was heated and touched with confusion.
“…with out that luck you'd've done more than broken your arm that day.” The man
continued unabated by Erm’s intrusion. “I’ve seen boys draw less than half of
what you did from the Flow destroy themselves from it.”
Erm was burning holes in the back of
the man’s head, brows furrowed in utter confusion. He tried to ask what
the man was talking about, but he found only a small breath instead.
Nothing the man was saying seemed to make any sense.
“The storm that killed your Uncle was
wrought by the Priests of Light.” The man was now turned around throwing on a
satchel and cloak, grabbing up his staff he continued. “The Creator
must've been playing with my fate; it must've been Him who drew me to your
valley.” The man turned again and stared Erm straight in the eye. “If it wasn’t
for Him bringing me here you would be on the leash of a Priest right now
awaiting the life of a slave.”
None of this was making any sense to
Erm. Priests
of Light, the Flow.
Erm’s confusion grew to the point where all he could do was stare at the man,
mouth gaping wide open. He had no idea what the man was speaking
of. “What about my arm?” Erm asked.
The man threw a glance encompassing
both Arlain and himself “Most of us call it Mending…I set your arm and melded
the bone together.” He recited as if telling how he would prepare breakfast,
and started to walk towards the rise leading up out of the oak grove. Erm
found that some of the anger that had been building for the man seemed to
dissipate.
“We better go.” Arlain’s voice came
to him from behind, stealing him from his thoughts. He nodded, motioning
Jaidaen to lie down. Both of them stepped over her back and shortly she
trotted off in the direction the man had gone.
The man wasn’t far off, and Jaidaen
caught him up in a matter of moments. With them now behind, he started to
run following along a trail that would have been barely visible to someone not
used to tracking game. It looked to be a well traveled deer trail and
nothing more. There was only enough space for Jaidaen to make footfall
with the thick undergrowth closing in on each side and a light dusting of
clovers underfoot. At least there didn’t seem to be any brush whipping
him in the face this time. Never mind.
After some time riding behind the man
Erm’s sight strayed to the side of him, falling on the foliage that passed
by. Startlingly the bush seemed to be blurred beyond recognition.
Looking at the blur made Erm’s head spin; he would have retched up if there had
been anything in his belly.
From the feel of it Jaidaen was only
running at a light trot, but from the look it seemed as if she were running
twice as fast as she was able. That, added to the dimness of the forest
around them was extremely disorienting.
It seemed that they'd been going on
for the entire day when the trail began to give way to a clearing that dropped
down into a small vale of black walnut trees. The ground here was clear
of brush as the last grove had been. The trees must have been beyond
ancient here, some were easily as wide around as an oak in its middle years;
black walnut growing more dense than thick the Mother knows how old they were.
The man slowed his pace and was now
stopped at one of the larger trees in the grove. Taking his cloak from
around himself, he hung it from a low branch placing his pack on the ground
next to it. Somehow the man appeared to be unaffected by the long run, breathing
as if he had been resting for half the day.
“What was that?” Erm said, confusion
marking his tone. “Back there, going down that trail. What was that?”
The man seemed to ignore the question
at first; gazing up into the canopy he looked as though he were searching for
something.
“I believe, you were riding that
mamut there…” The man answered not taking his eyes from his search, giving the
slightest sign of a smirk, “and I, was running.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Erm
answered, annoyance lightly touching his voice. “The forest… it looked like we
were going faster then we were.”
“It’s called Traveling.” The man
said, still keeping his gaze in the branches above. “
“What…” Erm had to quicken his pace
to keep up with the man.
“
Making a loose fist the man knocked
on the trunk lightly two times. “I’d move if I were you.” The man continued,
now looking back at him.
Erm’s brows furrowed. “What?”
A moment later something struck Erm
from above. Whatever it was it sent stars fluttering across his sight,
and caused him to fall backwards unto his pride. He couldn’t even make a
sound of pain his head spun so badly.
As the stars faded from his eyes and
his head stopped he could see that the man was bending over to pick up the
stick that had struck him on the head. Erm tried to stand up but the
spinning must not have been completely gone yet and he fell back again.
“What the fuck!” Erm barked.
For some reason Erm thought the man felt amused but his faced betrayed
nothing. He merely picked up the stick and walked away, leaving Erm to
nurse his wounds.
“I told you to move.” The man said
flatly as he walked away, studying Erm’s assailant.
An overwhelming sense of sorrow
flooded Erm’s mind. A heavy feeling going up from his
heart tryed to break through his chest.
Something in the back of his mind told him it wasn’t his own feeling but
someone else's. Looking around Erm spotted Arlain sitting on the ground
next to a tree with her head bowed, cradled in her hands between her knees.
Erm got himself up quickly, dealing
with the disorienting dizziness in his head. He made his way over to
Arlain as quick as his wobbly legs could carry him. Reaching her side he
found that she was crying deeply into her hands.
“Arlain?” He said, concern filling his voice. Erm wanted
to say something -- something that would make her stop crying -- something
that would make her feel better. But the only answer he received from his
mind was a gray fog. The overwhelming sensation of sadness swam through
the warren of despair in his gut.
Finding only a complete lack of
words, Erm sank down to sit next to Arlain. Putting his arms around her
he rested his head on her shoulder.
That didn’t seem to help any; it only
caused her to bury her face in his shoulder as she continued weep. He
wished there was something that he could do to help her.
“They’re gone…” A voice wracked by
despair rose from between the frantic sobs directed into his shoulder.
She continued to speak but her words were completely muffled by her cries and
indiscernible. Thoughts of his uncle welled up in his mind giving the
other feeling help to break through his ribs.
There was nothing he could say.
The only thing he could think of to do was to hug her harder and try to force
his own tears back.
Memories of his mother came up from
the depths of his mind, memories of when he was very little, of when she had
tried to comfort him in his sadness. The memory was faded and mostly gone
but he remembered her rocking him back and forth, making shushing noises to try
and comfort him from whatever made him cry. The fight to keep his tears
back became almost unbearable as he began rocking Arlain back and forth.
“They’re in a much better place
now.” He tried to reassure her, trying to convince himself with the same
breath.
Thoughts of his uncle and refreshed
memories of his parents started to well up through his throat gathering in
the base of his neck. All he could do was rest his head on Arlain’s
shoulder and join along in her lament letting tears slowly roll down his
cheeks.
They were sitting there for only
minutes but it felt like an hour before Erm pushed it all back. Forcing
all the wretchedness to a halt he swallowed the massive lump.
Surprisingly he didn’t feel the hurt any more; all he felt was emptiness where
the pain had been.
Arlain seemed to sense his attempts
and stopped as well. Looking up at him with puffy, red eyes she wiped her
face with her sleeve and gave Erm a forced smile. For the whole of him he
couldn’t seem to make himself return one, and just gave her one last hug.
Erm was now set on getting more
answers from the na’Sehn. Or whatever he called himself. Releasing Arlain he stood and started off
towards where he thought the man was.
“Erm.” The voice of the man called out from behind
him. He turned around to see the man holding a shaft-straight staff near
the length of his body. It looked like the same piece of wood that had
struck him before but it was perfectly straight. How on Ea did he get a piece of walnut straight that
quick? Never mind.
“Here.” The man said throwing the staff his way.
Catching it Erm felt something coming from the piece of wood. He couldn’t tell
what it was but it felt as if the wood joined him as an
extension of his own body. To his surprise the black walnut staff felt as
though it were light as a feather.
“The rest of the world has long since
left behind the peace your land still holds. You know how to use one
of those?” The man queried blankly.
“Of course.” Erm answered with his brows furrowed. His uncle
had taught him well in how to use a pole-arm as well as a bow.
He was taught that the trick was to
imagine within yourself darkness, and within that void a flame to feed all
thought and emotion until your mind was completely cleared. Only then
could you truly concentrate. His mind began to fill with a newfound rage
for the Priests and he tried to stuff it into the flame.
“Good,” The man said, “Attack me.”
“What?”
“Try and hit me with your staff.” The
man answered flatly. “Take your staff and hit me… unless you don’t think you
can.” Affirming his grip on the wood Erm took off towards the man as fast
he could. Trying to take the stance his uncle had taught him as he
ran.
Erm lifted the staff above him to
make a feigned strike at the man’s head. Sweeping the staff around him he
nearly missed the man and went into the backstroke with the aft end swinging
down quickly to strike at his middle.
Before the blow landed he found
himself flipping head over heals unto his backside. He didn’t even see
the man move. Frustration filled his head as he got himself up with a
push.
The man gave a chuckle, which failed
to touch his face. “Calm yourself.” He said. “Try it again, this time
concentrate.”
Erm closed his eyes; trying to enter
the void he imagined the flame and began throwing his ire for the Priests into
it. The fire ragged within him as he opened his eyes.
Side stepping around the man Erm
assumed the position he had tried to achieve before.
“Ah, Heron Stalking Prey.” The man
said amused, shifting his stance slightly.
Erm started to walk calmly towards
the man holding the staff near his middle. His gait turned into a lunge
as he swung the fore-staff round in a feigned strike for his middle, then
swinging the aft end round to sweep the man’s legs from underneath him.
Finding the man’s own staff blocking his, Erm quickly jumped backwards to avoid
a return strike that didn’t come.
His uncle wasn’t a soft teacher,
hardening soft edges with swift strikes. Erm could remember the welts
he'd receive and didn’t want more.
The man was now standing with his
staff in one arm upright behind his back in a stance unfamiliar to Erm.
His blank face seemed to beckon Erm to strike again.
He was obviously a master with his
staff. Erm decided to test the man. Digging his heels in Erm tightened
his grasp then started to walk slowly towards the man. Getting within
striking distance Erm gave a quick strike to the middle, which was quickly
blocked. Using the momentum Erm swung the aft around for a strike to the
head finding the man’s staff.
Erm stepped back to circle the man in
a slow backward sidestepping stride, looking for an opening. Of course he
knew there would be none, but he needed to look for something. Suddenly
the man changed stances, there was his opening. He lunged forward giving
a swipe to the legs only to find himself again on his backside.
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
This time Erm could swear he saw a smirk cross the man’s lips. “Lets see
you defend yourself.”
The fire was still raging within the
void; with shock trying to break its way through, Erm tried to force it down
into the blaze. The man lunged forwards, changing stance in
mid-step. Surprise got the best of him as he found a strike swinging
towards his head. He quickly blocked it, only to find a quick jab to his
midsection.
A loud grunt forced its way out,
followed by a cough. Apparently when the man had fixed his arm earlier he
neglected to do the same with his ribs. The pain in his chest burned a
hole through the void, shattering it. Erm gasped for air, all the while
coughing.
The man just stood there, holding his
staff behind him again.
“Stop it!” Arlain shouted, Erm
thought from behind him. She must have been watching them fight. A
moment later he found her arms around him helping him to sit; he still found it
hard to draw breath. “He has cracked ribs damn you!” She pleaded to
the man returning her attention to Erm quickly.
“He’ll have to learn quickly then
wont he.” The man responded coldly.
“It’s alright.” Erm told her weakly,
in between gasping for air. Rising to a kneeling position Erm sucked in
air quickly. After several moments of catching his breath Erm stood,
closing his eyes and reaching out to form the void and flame.
Inside the void the pain seemed to be
distant, almost as if it were someone else’s. Clearing his mind Erm took
another deep breath before opening his eyes and reaffirming his hold on the
staff.
“Good.” The man said.
Erm searched his mind from the void,
looking for the practices with his uncle. Always keep moving, focus on his movements not just
his staff.
The man began to circle round,
raising his staff to a horizontal position behind his back another unfamiliar
stance. Changing postures the man dashed towards Erm, throwing the rear
end of his staff at his legs in a large sweep.
Erm quickly back stepped and awaited
the next strike. Sure enough it came, hurtling towards his head.
Raising his staff Erm took the momentum of the man’s strike and threw it away,
resulting in a backstroke to his middle which was quickly countered with a
block.
This time the man stepped back
quickly, trying to lure Erm towards him. Not too hasty. Erm resumed his backward circling stride,
awaiting his next move.
He didn’t have too long to
wait. From mid-stride the man lunged forward sending a whirling strike
towards his head, missed and spun his body round giving a sweep catching Erm’s
feet from under him. He landed on his side with a thud. Finishing
his dance like flourish the man rested his staff at his side.
“You need to work on your form.” The
man said, still no sign of his thoughts touching his face or voice.