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

35 - J U D S O N

After the wide plains of the valley came a large river that took a good deal of mustered up courage for Judson to join his friends in crossing. He did not want to upset them by simply flying over. The waters stretched nearly a hundred thousand yards from end to end, with fierce rolling currents big enough to capsize a small ship.

However, he felt grateful for the swim afterward.

"That was not one of the Virgin Rivers, was it?" He had asked Phyllis with a blank grimace. The long swim had left him feeling oddly reinvigorated than tired as it should have.

"You can only wish it were." She responded with a little smile.

Not too long after they passed the river, perhaps a few difficult and rainy days later, the traversing trio entered into a massive rocky terrain nestled quite haphazardly between mountains, sparse forest, and smaller bodies of water. So far, it counted as the most difficult environment to scale because of its steep, slippery ground and unsuspecting quicksand.

A lot of teamwork went into passing through the pathless area because with every second, one person seemed to be either getting sucked whole into wet sand or tumbling down almost to their death.

By the time the terrain began to thin out, Judson's arms felt like wet dough and he was colored brown from his chest down to his shoes; sticks and tiny plants decorated his hair in a hilarious way that Diarmaid laughed at, and his legs went so numb that he often had to look down to ensure they were still intact.

His friends were in no better condition than he, and each one wore a very grumpy frown.

"What use is it bathing if we're just going to end up a lot dirtier than before?" Diarmaid complained, sluggishly going to lean against a fat mound of rock partly covered in vibrant green moss.

Judson's head did a tilt as he absentmindedly stared at the likes of the mound which were all scattered about the terrain in an interesting yet vague sort of formation.

"Do you see this?" He asked, using his fingers to link the boulders as he pointed.

Phyllis came to stand by him. Her own head leaned leftward in analyzation. "The rocks."

"What about them?" Diarmaid looked up at the mound he was resting against, then staggered away from it.

"It's weird how they're placed." She went on, fanning out in order to mark the environment better. "Look at the distance between them. These do not look like natural placements or even where rocks would stand."

Diarmaid, who had stayed rooted in solemn silence a while, brainstorming, walked back to the same rock and kicked it gently with the tip of his boot. "This has to be the head."

"The head of what?" Judson wondered. From his vantage point, the rocks were more than twenty. Even before he and his friends came to a halt, they had passed quite a number of them.

"A hieroglyph." The Elf stated firmly and with full certainty. "The rocks were placed in this way because they form a hieroglyph, which can perhaps be properly seen. . ." His index went up. "From up in the air."

Judson found himself being stared at and gave a nod of consent. "Oh, of course!"

He slowly spread his wings, giving Phyllis enough time to step away, then shot into the air. The weather was strangely lukewarm above, but he paid little attention to it and more to the stones below. They did resemble a curious and well placed pattern, but he could not perfectly make out what they looked like, until he levitated even higher.

Then, the symbol became clear.

To his further surprise, the glyphs showed everywhere - in the way the land itself curved, the streams in the distance, patches of greenery, the quicksand, and the rocks and trees. The sudden realisation overwhelmed him so much that he felt faint and began to plummet, but came around before he could go dangerously close to the ground.