Stormchild: Emeline and the Forest Mage

6 Wölvi and Kat

    "A Great man masters nature, but the greater man is its friend."

~ Unknown Wise Man

It'd been three days since Emeline had left Aysgarth with Avétk. Three nights of travel and three days of sleeping on slabs of rock, except for day two. Sometimes Avétk started a fire (if there weren't any trees overhead) and her body was warmer as she dozed. On the second morning, it had been snowing. It had been Emeline's hardest morning of travel. They'd had to push on without a fire, or a time to rest. Avétk would not even allow her to catch her breath under one of the massive fir trees that decorated the landscape. He said that it was dangerous, but she saw no risk, only a marvellous reprieve from the icy persistent wind that had cut through her skin and burned her lungs. A few moments of dryness before she'd had to face the cold, wet snow which had fallen steadily throughout that day.

    Avétk had been watchful of her and Emeline felt herself warming to his company. She sighed and followed his footsteps as the sun sank below the horizon. It was not full on dark yet, and the sky filled with amazing colours. She was fee, her hair blowing in the icy wind, her fingers dancing on the breeze. Well, she imagined they did anyway. The air was an instrument she played in her mind.

    The snow called to her. Emeline grabbed some of it from the ground, patted it into a ball, and threw it at Avétk. She missed, laughing, but the snow did splatter and ricochet onto his boots. He looked down, shaking his one boot – and looking very funny - but barely responded otherwise. The icy wind whistled around them, whipping her hair around delightfully, but she was isolated in her joy.

    Having dreary company was such a bore. Avétk seemed worn out, and she guessed he'd probably been on guard when she slept, instead of taking his rest too. They needed to find a place to sleep, for his sake, or he might end up killing her with his sour mood.

    'You need sleep!' Emeline yelled.

    Avétk shrugged nonchalantly as he walked on.

    'Let's find a place to rest,' she suggested, 'I can take the watch. I've slept through the day.'

    Emeline watched him for a positive response, eager to prove herself to him. To prove she was not a scared little girl.

    'We need to keep moving,' he mumbled, and it sounded as though the words slurred together a tiny bit, as though his tongue was too tired to form the words proper. 'We've only been travelling a few hours.'

    'But, Avétk—'

    'No,' he cut her off, and it grated at her.

    'Avétk! If you don't rest, you put us both in danger!' She balled up her fists and breathed trhough her nostrils. Stay calm.

    He looked at her, plainly unconvinced, just humouring her, as if she was a child. Fathers' it made her angry, but how could she argue with the Blackblood Cleaver?

    'You know it's true,' she said in a more reserved fashion, rubbing her fingers.

    He turned back to the road and started walking again.

    'Avétk!' Emeline stood waiting for him to respond, but he only kept walking. How would she get him to rest, or listen? She had no idea. Eventually, she relented her argument and jogged to catch up with him. The corners of her lips curled ever downward as she followed him, while the darkness ate the sky, popping out stars as it went.

    The shadows devoured the air. Emeline shivered and promised herself she wouldn't cry that night. Shadows weren't a thing to fear, nor the darkness.