Multerra

chapter one

 Foalon was walking up the path from the woods. It was snowing, the cold powder slowly settling into the ground all around him. As he shivered, he was reminded of how much he wanted to get to the tower. Looking around him, he saw nothing but flat white fields with dry sticks you could barely call bushes jutting up every hundred yards or so all around him. He sighed, knowing all too well it would be sundown by the time he would even see his home. It was as he was crossing one of the sickly bushes, that he heard a small sniffle. Foalon stopped. He turned around and looked everywhere. When he heard it again, he could have sworn it came from the bush. He trudged over and peered behind it. He saw a small child huddled in some thorns. frostbite and lacerations, varying in-depth, covering his body. His shivering ebony body, red striped horns, small wings resembling that of a bat, were a telltale sign of something that lit a small spark of excitement in Foalon's chest. This child was of a rare race that lived in the woods on the east side of these plains. Not much is known about them except for the rare jewelry made of the red portion of their horns. Foalon stood, dumbfounded, as his brain processed the fact that this was actually happening. You see, Foalon was a young doctor and scientist that had separated himself from society to devote himself to science. He had read all about this race in a very small section of a book he had found in a library. The race was extremely intelligent and strong. One of the only known facts about them is that they have integrated infanticide into the roots of their culture. The weak and the dumb are discarded or killed on the spot. Although it is preferred to kill the children on the spot they are sometimes cast into the fields, allowing their fate to be decided by nature. This is how the jewelry can be made. Every man has a large amount of greed in his soul and when this greed is faced with one of these children on the ground in front of them like sitting ducks, they can't help themselves. However, Foalon had something much more powerful in his soul, eclipsing this greed many times over. His curiosity. Foalon had no need for wealth since he was far away from anywhere to spend it. He lived in a hollow pillar in the middle of a small country-sized field. He lived alone, living off his small garden and handmade potions and medical supplies. So when he found this child, shivering in the snow, he couldn't help himself but pick it up. This race was unstudied, and Foalon's thirst for knowledge was strong.

Violet and red covered the cold sky. Clouds added a marbling on the horizon, where the sun appeared to be bathing halfway in a haze of white that was the ground beneath it. The snow had stopped falling by the time foalon had made it home. the air was silent and still, except the harsh coughing and labored breathing of the barely conscious child and foalon. he was carrying it on his back like a potato sack but switched up to holding it like a baby from time to time to allow different muscles to take a break. foalon was extremely relieved when he saw the pillar he lived in, standing tall over the flatlands. this sight gave him just enough strength to get to the entrance. Foalon's feet nearly caved before he plopped the now, unconscious child onto a potato-sack cloth bed, cushioned by the straw that grew in the fields in summer. a pile of snow blanketed the middle of the tower due to the hole that had formed on the roof over time. many birds chirped, huddled on their nests made on the bricks that jutted out to form a small ledge. dead vines hugged and hung everywhere making make-shift curtains. foalon loved this humble abode. he was familiar with the birds and thought it was convenient to have clean snow to make water with at his disposal. all the flaws this old pillar had to offer, foalon learned to enjoy. foalon wanted to sleep and enjoy these simple comforts yet he knew that he had a rare opportunity on the line. he looked back and sat on the large brick next to the bed, studying the assortments of problems covering the child. the frostbite reddened the skin on his arms and feet, thorns stuck out from his legs and arms, and cuts from who knows where sprinkled his chest, they had stopped bleeding however they were at high risk of infection. foalon decided to treat the frostbite first. foalon boiled water and added snow to cool it down slightly. he added the child's arms and feet to the water. he drenched some absorbent fleece into the water and cover the areas still exposed. he stuck piles of cloth under the child's legs and arms to lift the limbs. after an hour he bandaged the frost-bitten areas. After a long time passed of treating the different assortments of cuts, he checked blood flow. the areas had circulation and were warm on their own. foalon sighed in relief and finished up the treatment. he got up and lay down on some cloth-covered ground and went to sleep.