Realms [ON HOLD]

Chapter Three: Gardens and Memories

     The whole day had been bizarre.

     From being jolted awake by his dream to going on a long journey with his friends to a town none of them had ever heard of, Fenn was befuddled.

     They'd visited the mountain before too. No one had noticed the small community of houses, their rooftops just visible through the heavy fog that apparently concealed them so well. It was strange. And even stranger was that the mayor was so kind, accepting the three travelers without a second thought.

     Fenn lay on the wooden table in the corner of his new home, legs dangling off, swinging subconsciously back and forth. The sound of denim swishing to and fro filled the small house. The hard wood was rather uncomfortable to rest on, but it kept him in the moment as he thought, and without it, Fenn worried, he would easily drift to sleep.

     Their adventure had only begun some hours prior. It had already exhausted him more than any other journey he had been on. He hadn't been on very many.

     The only two he could recall were the best and worst times of his life. The first was the shameful walk away from his birthplace. He was cast away because he was different. Because half of his genes were shared with a species his other half believed were inferior.

     The mushroomfolk banished him from the village of Nuxare when he was just old enough to keep the memory. His mother had secretly helped him; she searched the land for anyone who was willing to take him in. She found a human couple, told him where to go, and he was off. That journey had taken days, but he finally reached his destination.

     The second was only a few years ago, when he left the small town that saved him. King Vidof had been attacking every community in his path. His army had begun to destroy Fenn's adoptive parents' village. They had been killed in the fire that burned down their home. Fenn was saved just in time by a girl. She took him to the town that he lived in for many happy years, the town that taught him all he knew.

     For a while, it was nice; people were kind to him; he learned how to fight; he became deadly. But all good things must come to an end. And that was just what happened.

     The elders got too controlling. He needed more freedom. Fenn was not just some little kid anymore.

     He was powerful.

     He ran away from that town, never once looking back. He ran all the way to the mountain that he knew today as Mt. Canyon.

     This journey only took a week or so. He took many twists and turns, and when he finally believed he was far enough, he had no idea where he was.

     He knew now; Mt. Canyon. The mountain where he met the two he now considered sisters. That had been the best journey of his life. And now he was on another one.

     Fenn sat up, slid off the table onto his feet, and crossed the small room to the rows of cabinets and drawers. He figured he should start there. He opened the first cabinet. There were a few things inside. Some tools, forged out of iron. Fenn picked one up, the axe, and weighed it in his hand. Then, he took a step back and swung, narrowly missing the counter before him.

     It was okay, nothing like the various weapons he had forged, of course, but it would do.

     He took out the other tool, a pickaxe. It was in decent condition; the pick was somewhat dull and worn, but it could still be useful. Fenn put it back, along with the axe, and continued to the second cabinet.

      Inside, he found some tortillas, potatoes, rice, a few cans of beans, and some other food. Along with it were a few packets of seeds. Carrot, beet, tomato, and some herbs, basil and mint.