The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

26 - J U D S O N

On one fateful night of his journey, Judson had a frightening mare.

He was high up in the sky, soaring without a care between folds of dark clouds whilst bathed by brilliant rays from the moon. He was self-conscious about still being on his way to Adwys and could even sight the strip of land on the horizon.

Albeit, when he looked on again, the great kingdom was no more.

It had been replaced by smaller villages that he could not at all recognize though he somehow knew in his mind that he was nearing Bremeton.

Just as he wondered when and why he changed course all of a sudden, the earth shook. He felt the tremor tear strongly through the air and likened it to an unforgettable experience he once had in the mountain pass of Elsor. His chest filled up with fear and a hint of loneliness as he peered about for the source of such brief turbulence in the dead of night.

But the disturbance did not seem to have come from below.

All of a sudden, the skies grew hot.

He looked over his shoulder and glimpsed with the widest eyes a magnificent light. It was barreling toward him much faster than he could comprehend. The closer it got, the hotter it became, so much so that his eyes began to burn in spite of the distance.

Swerving just in time to avoid the phenomenal object, he managed to discern for a few seconds how it truly looked up close before it traveled too far. The kind of light it gave was one he never knew before. It felt natural, but was surrounded by a much softer glow as of moonlight, exuding white-hot heat that could match the sun.

However, as it traveled farther, it began to transform. A great spark came off and licked it whole, and it burst into incredible flames.

Judson's heart leapt into his throat as he tailed it at a very reasonable distance.

Then, he hovered to watch as the object rolled over the sleeping villages, sending sprays of heat and mock daylight over them that lasted only a second.

In his heart, he prayed that the ball would not crash into a place where people lived. Luckily, it sailed past the last village about four miles farther before it met the ground. A staggering explosion was the result as the ball buried itself core deep into the earth, forming a stupendous crater overspread with fire and debris.

With his heart still thundering in his ears, Judson decided to inspect the crash site. The environment was scorching hot, but he managed to hover in the center for a while before it grew too uncomfortable to linger.

As he flew away, he wondered about the shards he had seen strewn in different places on the ground – strange pieces of formless matter that gleamed silver and seemed to melt slowly under the perilous heat. To him, they looked very much like metal. Godly metal.

That could only mean one thing, he thought.

But his dream was interrupted by the sound of quiet shuffling, or at least a lazy attempt at it.

He stirred in search, squinting with sleepy eyes at the sparse trees scattered about the moonlit environment and his own bed of dried leaves.

Again, the shuffling reached his ears, low and determined, as if whatever made the noise was eager to reveal itself, but as quietly as possible.

Judson stood up and unleashed Calaire, sweeping it in sword form over the environment. He could not particularly use a sword. His intent was to frighten his unknown foe.

He stayed low and spun around.

Turning behind, he was startled by a yelp.

"By the pickle, sire!"