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

31 - J U D S O N

After four weeks of intense preparation, Judson was ready to embark on a journey he regarded as the most important one in his life.

The week prior to his departure, he spent most of his time alone to mull over everything.

For good reason, what lay ahead frightened him now more than ever because it was the very last step. Years of effort and hard work would culminate into the result of his trip, positive or otherwise.

It felt like a bad time to leave because the Elvenhome he had come to cherish, quite surprisingly, was faced with great challenges. Having dwelled amongst them moved him to help, because they had done the same for him, proving without a doubt that friendship and loyalty meant more than anything else.

Alas, he could not stay.

Their conflict was theirs to manage alone, yet he knew they would push through.

Together.

He had witnessed the fullness of Elven strength and come to realize that it did not simply lie in their ability to wield swords, but in a sense of unity. Each was bound to another by an allegiance so strong he doubted any enemy could withstand.

Other than the brewing troubles of the Elvenhome, another bothersome thing was his intended destination.

A place called the Cleft of Rhimah.

Threya had impelled him to reach the Cleft twenty seven days before year's end. There, he would find Camar - the same primordial Gzrel told him about, who had understanding of all languages, unspoken or not.

Only the Chay had the power to show him the Chasma's next occurrence.

With all that she said, Judson felt still doubts like lashes of ice cold rainwater.

Would Camar be willing to help?

Would he even be able to find the Cleft?

Not only did he have to reach it before a deadline, it was located in what he imagined as the most dangerous parts of The Great Jungle. By nature, Wyvernwildé was not a friendly place. Going deep into it was very much like signing one's own death warrant. Since it was unmapped territory, he could not begin to guess what to expect.

Regardless, his volition to try, however unsteady, was ever present. He could not afford to shy away because he feared the unknown.

On the day of his departure, he rose before dawn, moving about sluggishly to ready the travel baggage Maraeti put together for him. In his head, he ran through the list of people he was yet to say goodbye to and confirmed none was left. Every one had wished him a good fare.

Yet he felt incomplete.

Diarmaid's house was empty. Maraeti was yet to come, and the Elf had gone out the previous night in search of his missing dogs again. Judson never pictured he would be all alone neither did he expect a goodbye party.

He slung the heavy luggage over one hand, calculating how far he would walk before his shoulder died of strain. Maraeti could have as well packed a whole house inside the bag.

As he trudged out of the swamp to make for the Eastern border – the easiest way to breech into Wyvernwildé – he took long glances around Diarmaid's abode, committing little things to memory.

The NeverEnd, albeit hot and bright, could impact the most beautiful imageries in the clouds. He liked that the weather was favourable and the skies, hopeful. The environment was awash with sunlight and beautiful greenery, twittering birds, and the honks of faraway geese. Remnants of Juniper's tampered magic still floated about in the air, spreading incandescence. The broad leaves above Diarmaid's tree cast a great shade over much of the dry marsh, allowing for growing lilies to show their faces under the sun.