By The Moon's Blade

Interlude 3: 30th of Frostbite, Close to Daybreak

I feel my stomach lurch and I stop at a nearby tree, resting my hand against the smooth wooden bark. Suddenly, my stomach empties its barren contents onto the earth below as I silently retch. The exhaustion and fear has finally caught up to my body, prompting an immediate evacuation. Once my body is satisfied, I spit out the sour fluid coating my mouth and wipe my mouth with my sleeve.

I remember the last time I vomited in this forest. Worst night of my life.

I begin walking again, gently rubbing my stomach as some sort of small comfort. I can still taste the sharpness of acid lining my mouth, a sharp burn coating my throat. I try to quietly hack up any remnants of bile and spit them on the ground as I continue. My nerves are finally getting the better of me and I start to wonder how long I've actually been out here.

I can see the early signs of sunlight cresting, stars growing dimmer and the shade of the sky lightening to an indigo hue. I was foolish to go out on a New Moon. But this voice didn't sound like the others. It was lighter, full of care, and if I believed in an afterlife... I could have sworn it was my mother.

But, why would she tell me to run into danger? Was this her final effort to spite me? I shake the nasty thoughts away and continue walking quickly through the piles of dead leaves and small banks of snow. I don't know how they haven't found me yet. It feels dreadfully cruel, their final game before a vicious death.

I wanted to save everyone. I thought I could, but I've thrown it all away chasing after a ghost. I begin to wonder, is this how my mother felt in her final moments? Did she spend her last thoughts on self-inflicted verbal abuse? She thought she could communicate with the beasts, find some sort of common ground. But the only common ground they found was on the floor of the forest, coated in her blood as they snuffed out her life.

With one hand around my knife, I attempt feebly at creating fire again. I've only been able to do it once before, and that was when conditions were perfect. The moon was full and I sat in a sacred place, surrounded by ancient Lunari energy that coursed through my veins. And even then, it was nothing more than a small fireball that vanished within fifteen seconds.

But as I walk, trying to navigate my way out of the woods, I figure it's worth a shot. I concentrate on my hand while trying to keep my mind aware of the rest of my surroundings. But because my mind is split and the moon is hidden from view, no trace of umbramancy rushes out of my body. No fire, no water, no ice, no sparks, no light.

I failed again.