Acropolis

Wilderness

The Sun only meant to keep things going, not only keep things alive, she philosophized bleakly. Acacia removed as much traces as possible from her campsite and packed for the next village forgetting the dream.

Only nine leagues were away by estimation until arrival. Elderberries, wood strawberries, currents, black walnuts, and tubers would be provisions when she ran out of supplies. Fresh water was harder to come by when the pristine streams were poisoned with spells. The only way you could tell which waters were spell-free was to gaze into them until they disappeared. She remembered this from Daphne and hated the fact that any water could dry up and thought there should be a way to free the spells.

Was the water just invisible or did it dry up along with other rumors? If I go to sea maybe the water, there is safe to drink...or deadly. Also, why chance being caught by fishers and their scoping glasses?

Slowly the land became divided in Acacia's viewpoint, but quickly she was unaware of the worlds' affairs. More in tune with the pine, the honeysuckle, and the small burrowers she became and as unaware as aware.

Why can't everyone just spread out into this diluted Nature, live in the forest and peaceably leave the withered path? No distractions, only new beginnings. Would nature be itself if we inhabited it? No trouble or more...less I think it would be only if people learn from their seclusion, she answered herself. I would be first if willing to live here.

The journey on foot the second day was exhorting, and Acacia had still four more days to traverse. She pondered other modes of transportation. I could build a canoe or a raft. Hollowing out the logs with hot coals might take longer, but perhaps I could tie a few logs with rope in another day's notice. I would stand out perchance, but I could change my appearance once I get to the next town and buy a batique headscarf. They never taught me back home how to create a guise. Avoiding assassins is something not taught at Domain Private University.

Never once she thought to stop and rest for fear of falling asleep. Without the image of Kazimir or Conrad other reflections came to mind.

Back in the town of Capital Domain, she never thought about others' affairs as much when the townspeople only thought about their own. Acacia desperately wanted to drown out all evil and self-centeredness, but she didn't know if the desire would eradicate it, even if the little drama she stirred in herself might be spared—the worries mustered themselves even when put out of mind. Here she actively sought involvement with the unknown world of which she felt so connected if only to make up lost heroism. The faster the past swept in, the swifter Acacia's stride.

Acacia had knowledge of all the old fables and epics from bonfire days but little knowledge of the way Acropolian magic worked. The epics of the new age were easy to come by, but lots of plots were hidden with Jason. He was a storyteller and had the power of twisting tales to benefit his plot.

Jason hopefully went in exile near the next town, but if not, warriors and poets, even merchants, could spell clues. This time she put aside heroism and wished for a star to guide her to Jason, and finally, bring both of them back to Domain. She did not know where she belonged, and despite all the magic, Acacia felt only immigration papers would let her decide which world was more promising—immigration papers hopefully to be inaugurated by Grandmother Daphne.

Acacia found a hot spring for sanctuary on the seventh day. After she covered herself with her white blanket and decked her head in flora worn by the high priests—branches of elderberry and olive—she bathed herself in the sanctuary—clothed in cleansing steam—after drinking from the long sought-after water. Surprisingly, after repeated attempts of dunking her head beneath the surface, the water neither refracted or disappeared. The only sight was the blur in her eyes. The only music of the deep wood was the gurgling of the spring.