Tovenaar

Chapter One

The wind that blew was cold and harsh. It ripped leaves from their trees and sent them hailing down upon the forest floor. The leaves were crisp and dry, and signs of autumn showed as the surrounding trees rippled with a fiery glow.

A lone bird soared overhead, circling a figure that struggled below. The bird, a falcon rather large for its kind, tucked in its wings and dove toward the shape. It landed in front of the traveler and ruffled its feathers indignantly. The traveler sighed when she noticed the bird, and shrugged the carcass of a doe she had shot off of her shoulders, setting it gently on the ground.

“I told you,” she said, kneeling beside the bird and stroking its golden feathers. “That deer is heavy enough on its own. Not to mention this hike’s uphill. I can’t carry you. Anyway, we’re almost there. Surely you can fly a bit further.”

The bird nipped her fingers affectionately and then took off into the air once more. With another sigh, the girl heaved the deer back over her shoulder and continued her climb. As she climbed, her breath showed as white mist in the early morning air. The higher she climbed, the more ragged her breathing became. It wasn’t until she choked and sputtered that she noticed the thick grey smoke that was billowing in the wind over the peak of the hill ahead.

Dropping the deer, she sprinted up the hill to where she could look out over the town of Ra’kei. But where there should have been a small but wealthy port on the coast of the Ai’em River was a wreck of smoldering buildings.

“No…” she whispered under her breath, yet she stood rooted to the spot. Her eyes scanned the ruins, searching for someone, anyone, that had survived the horrid scene.

            She ran a hand through her hair and started to make her way, stumbling, down from the overlooking peak, silent tears streaming down her face. Once she reached level ground, she walked slowly through the ash, taking in the wreckage that surrounded her. To any onlooker it would have seemed she stopped to kneel at a random place among the ruins, but she did, in fact, know the spot well. She pictured it in her mind: the small, but cozy cabin she had shared with her father and younger sister. The little garden in the back that they had kept as a tribute to their mother was now merely an area of the town not covered in debris and forgotten possessions.

            Her old home had sat on the edge of the river that flowed into the sea beyond, where she had learned to fish. Beyond the river was the Forest of Azun, where her father had first taught her to use a bow. She looked across the river at the forest now, movement in the trees catching her attention. She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up cautiously, pulling her bow from over her shoulder, an arrow from the quiver on her back, and notching it in one swift motion.

A figure that seemed to be made of shadows stood watching her from the shade underneath the ancient trees. The girl pursed her lips and lowered her bow, though she kept the string drawn taut. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the spirits who inhabited the Forest of Azun; she’d been seeing them ever since she could remember, at least eleven years, now that she was sixteen. She never minded the shades, despite the fact that no one else ever saw them flitting through the forest, but now, in the eerie silence that followed death, the figure frightened her immensely.

A shout interrupted her stare down with the shadow-figure, and she turned toward where the river poured out into the ocean. Two ships were coming into the port of Re’kei from out at sea, and she eyed them warily. It took her a moment to recognize the King’s crest, a sun rising over two crossed swords, on the sails, and only then did she put her arrow back in its quiver and sling her bow over her shoulder. With a glance back toward the forest, she noted that the figure had disappeared.