“I’m tired of walking. Can we take a break? My feet hurt. Uhhhggg…”

I turn around to see Hope crumble to the ground.

Sorrowe laughs. “Get up, squirt. We don’t have time for this. It’s almost dark, and Uncle Thenarius likes to turn in early. If we wanna get there before he goes to bed, we gotta keep moving. Just use your magic to restore your legs!”

Hope scowls from her prostrate position. “It doesn’t work like that, lughead! Magic takes energy, too! That’s like me telling you to go for a run when you have a broken leg. Running wouldn’t be helpful, or even possible, if your leg is already hurt. It’s the same with my magic. It can heal you, but it can’t make you not tired.”

Sorrowe looks off into the distance toward the mountains. “Yeah yeah… I don’t really care. I just want to keep moving, so we’re not out here after dark. Who knows when those things will show up again.”

Sorrowe’s right. If we don’t keep moving, we’re not going to make it before sundown. The plains are safe enough during the day, but I don’t want to think about what nocturnal predators might roam at night. Especially now that I know there’s something out there that can summon sludgy nightmares on a whim. What if it decides to come back?

The plains between our homestead and the southern mountains stretch for miles. The peak of the mountain range stands as the only landmark to guide our trip. Uncle Thenarius lives at the base of the mountains, just east of the peak.

A few dry bushes scatter the otherwise barren plains. The grass out here grows about three feet high, providing an endless supply of food for a colony of bunnylugs. The entrances to their burrows dot the landscape. Birds of prey occasionally fly overhead, searching for stray bunnylugs to pick off for dinner. A few of them manage to find their quarry.

A blistering wind blows in sporadic gusts, chilling the air and encouraging us to take shelter. We can’t afford to stop now. We try to continue our journey despite the wind, but the weather only gets stranger. The wind brings with it an icy fog. Thin at first, but it grows thicker and thicker the closer we get to the mountains.

Even if we manage to make it to the foothills, we’ll never be able to find Uncle Thenarius’s house in this fog, so we decide to stop for the night in hopes that the fog will clear by morning.

Good thing I read those earth-form katas!

Or at least, started those earth-form katas…

I attempt to create a basic shelter out of dirt and rock. I place both of my open palms on the ground, the way my earth-form scroll showed. I focus on the dirt beneath my fingers, feeling the magical current flowing through the earth. As I bring my fingers into the traditional earth-form shape, a fist with thumbs to the side, the ground beneath my hands rises and takes the shape of a small cube about three feet wide.

Hope raises her brows. “How are we gonna fit in there?”

I shake my head. “We’re not. I just didn’t do it right. Lemme try again.”

I repeat this process a few times with varied success. Some of my “shelters” look like. Some are too small. Most don’t even have an opening for us to get inside. Eventually, I get a structure about five feet tall with an entryway about two feet across from floor to ceiling.

Repeatedly invoking the power of the earth takes its toll on my body. My fingers shake from pulling against the earth’s magical current. My arms ache from pulling the earth up and out of its natural state. I take a few strained breaths as I struggle to stay on my feet. I don’t have the energy to produce another one. We’re gonna have to make this one work.

The earth does not like to be moved.

Freaking earth-form. Slow, boring, and a pain in the butt.

After cramming ourselves into the tiny structure, Hope uses a basic light-form to produce a thin protective barrier in the entryway that blocks out the wind. I place a dim utility flames at the top of the room to keep us warm. It’s impossible to get comfortable in here, but our small improvements provide a cozy place to sleep.

Sorrowe rolls her eyes as Hope cuddles up next to me.

“Stop kicking me!”

“Sorry…”

“Can you put that flame out? It’s too bright in here.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Shut up!”

“I have to pee.”

Well, as cozy as a tiny dirt box can be, anyway.

***

I make it through the night with minimal sleep, but at least the fog is clear when I wake up. I exit the tiny hut and look toward the mountains. The grass and bushes that just yesterday waved proudly in the breeze now stand frozen. The ground is tough and hardened. I see no signs of life. No bunnylugs, no birds, just stillness and silence.

The bleak scene is refreshed by a structure in the distant foothills, just east of the peak. So we’re close to Uncle Thenarius’s place after all! We should be able to reach it by noon.

Upon further inspection, it looks like there are a lot of people standing around the house. Why does Uncle Thenarius have company this early in the morning? Could he be leading a hunting party? Dad says the best time for hunting is early in the morning, so I guess it’s possible. I just hope they’re getting back from the hunt and not about to leave.

I step back into the hut. Hope’s barrier shimmers as I step through it.

“Let’s get going. The fog is gone, but somehow the plains feel creepier than they did yesterday. I just want to see a familiar face. If we leave soon, I bet we can make it by lunch. We can ask Uncle Thenarius for some of his famous spicy stew!”

Sorrowe’s drowsy eyes stare back at me. “Some real food would be nice. The jerky we found is a little stale.”

Hope gives her doll a tight hug and packs it into the side of her bag. “Yay, Dolly! Let’s go see Uncle T!”

I collapse our makeshift shelter and return the ground to its previous state before heading toward the mountains.

In contrast to the frigid air and frozen fauna, the morning sun shines warmly down on us. I close my eyes and enjoy the heat of the sun’s rays on my face. I can’t help but smile and take a deep, refreshing breath.

As I focus on the feeling of the sun’s heat, I feel a tingle of magical energy in my arms. I stretch and shake them to try to dissipate the feeling, but it persists like a thousand bugs crawling on my skin. I turn toward the empty plains away from my sisters and shoot a few heavy waves of fire into the air. As the bolts leave my fingers, so does the tingling sensation.

I’ve had this happen a few times in my ten years of experience with magic. Sometimes the natural magical current flowing through the world gives me the jitters, and I can’t stop moving until I unleash it.

I recall my very first kata scroll: Magic is enhanced by nature. If you’re struggling with a particular form, go outside!

I move my fingers in rote arcane patterns to pass the time. Small arcs of arcane energy jump between my fingers. The arcs create vibrations that resonate up my arms. My shaking hands benefit from the continual discharge of magical energy. Eventually, my arms feel normal again, and I decide to pick up the pace. Magical currents aren’t the only thing getting impatient.


Next Post in this series: Break of Dawne: Chapter 6

Previous post in this series: Break of Dawne: Chapter 4


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