Merciless Hunter

9: Forest dream

She has been here before. Here is when the world is a pinpoint as vast as the sky. Here is where a wink lasts a lifetime while kingdoms rise and fall in the twitch of a cat's tail. Where all motion is frozen while stillness spins in frenzy. She has been here before, and yet it is not the same. It ought to be solid with void, but instead all that space is taken up by fur, wind, jolts and an overwhelming smell of power.

She becomes aware of pain and a hissing, rhythmical sound. Its source is somewhere nearby. So close that it seems part of her. No, it really is part of her. The pain is in her clenched teeth. The hissing sound is her breath through her nostrils.

The fur and smell belong to the bear she is riding, the wind to her galloping speed through the night forest. And that place where everything is nothing is where she went during the fever which left her barely alive but took two of her brothers and one sister away, the year before the consumption took her parents.

But that was then and this is now. The memory of her dream at the back of the temple returns but this is nothing like that. No sense of smooth gliding, no cloud-leaping. No feeling of control, of power, that the dream gave her but that she lost in falling. Perhaps this is a continuation of the dream. Perhaps Brun caught her at the end of the fall to carry her away.

There is power here, to be sure, but it all belongs to her steed. All that is left of her own strength she wills into her fingers and her legs, while the rest of her is slung about like a rag doll by Brun's lumbering gait. She forces her jaws to unclench too, to spend that little strength better.

That is when she starts to shiver. The reality of this unreal night begins to seep in. Brun and Arkteia out of the pit. Herndel believing he witnessed a miracle... or perhaps it was a true miracle? The blinding light. The eerie voice. And herself, here, on her way to a meeting with mysterious beings of power.Power that they will perhaps be willing to share.

She did it.

She ought to feel triumphant, but all she knows is these shivers that grip her and will not let go. They get worse every moment and soon they will break her grip on Brun's fur. Perhaps the fever is back to claim her this time, so close to her goal... She tries to call for Brun to stop but only manages a convulsive croak. Yet the bear seems to hear and understand that something is amiss, for she slows down and turns her head back.

In the dark, Wrenne cannot see the bear's eyes but she has no time for explaining anyway. Her head spins and she half slides, half falls down into a cold bed of mosses and decaying leaves. She feels her gown soaking through to her knees in an instant, clumps of moss come loose in her hands and then her entire body is racked by a huge spasm that sends vomit flying through her mouth and nose and out in the darkness. She continues retching until her stomach is empty and then some. When at last the cramps subside, she falls helplessly to the side and begins to cry.

Why is she crying? There is no sadness in her, nor any anger. Certainly no joy nor even relief. The only emotion she feels at the moment is frustration at her own weakness, this betrayal by her own body. As if it decided that it needs to rid itself of some more bodily fluids, without asking her. She can't seem to find her arms and legs, they are not listening to her, stranding her here on the ground. And the chill keeps slowly but relentlessly seeping in through her gown from the damp, mossy forest floor.

Then she feels a great weight settle beside her and a warm, strong paw work its way underneath her. Gently she is lifted off the ground and cradled in a warm, dry embrace. The smell of Brun once more envelops her. She still cannot stop her infernal crying, but it is not as cramped anymore and her shivering gradually stops as her body gratefully accepts the warmth streaming in. After a while, she can breathe normally again, rise and wipe her tears.