Among the Birches *NaNoWriMo 2013*

We Come to Seek the Hidden

Both Nicholai and Kya stood with eyes on the hulking form of the troll before them, panting.

"I've never seen a troll before, and I hope never to do so again. Thank you, Nicholai. I wish I could have been of more assistance."

"Don't worry, Kya. But it seemed as if he were uncannily focused upon reaching you rather than me-- and I believe that is why I was able to get at him. Trolls. Dirty things, with their damned hides thicker than boulders." With that, he gave the log-like leg a kick. "In their dying moment they're dangerous, too; you never can tell where they're going to fall. I've heard of men being killed-- crushed flat-- by felled trolls falling upon them."

Kya looked at the creature, trying hard to not focus on its cascading entrails and their putrid odor. I would not want to have that troll dead and laying on top of me.

"Anyway," said Nicholai, "let's go on. There are more things in this wood, and we are deep into the evening already. We must set up camp..."

"It looks as if there is a small glade surrounded by oaks ahead and to the right; I should think that the open space would be our best defense in keeping aware of what may come upon us. I imagine we could take turns keeping watch."

So to the glade they went, encountering no difficulties but hearing eerie noises far off in the distance. The clearing, however, felt safe, and the globe did not glow but seemed to be rest for the night, too. Kya kept watch first, thinking of the mysterious flying-- object? animal? apparition?-- that she saw hovering over the troll. She had never seen such a thing in all her life, and was eager for Nicholai to wake up to discuss the matter with him. She did not think he had seen it, but he may know something of it. Humans are tricky things. You can never quite know exactly what they're up to or how much they know... I'm not even sure they always are aware of their own knowledge.

When Kya had exhausted the subject of the mysterious orbs, she went to thinking of Jasper. Where can you be? She realized that she knew precious little of Jasper; she was only familiar with him because of his renown among the humans and elves. She had given him little thought, back then; he was only a sort of cogwheel in a large machine which kept the island safe and thriving. She had thought she had him pegged for some reason-- likely out of a completely unrecognized sort of laziness. But he was not much like an elf, in many ways; nor was he entirely human. I don't understand you...

A faint feeling within Kya rose. She realized that she desperately wanted to find Jasper not just to save the Island or be comforted by the presence of a known face, she wanted-- truly-- to know him. She wanted to understand him, assimilate a small snippet of his soul into her own. His face blazed in her mind, rugged for an elf but beautiful. Jasper. It began as a sigh of longing and grew into a summons. Jasper. She didn't know if he could sense the methodic chanting of her thoughts; an elf could, but who knows what an half-elf could do? But her soul trusted him to hear her.

She was weary and had brought upon herself a great sleepiness. It was almost time for Nicholai to keep watch. She nudged his shoulder gently once, and he surfaced to consciousness and assumed the task of keeping vigil. She lay down on the still-warm blanket where minutes before Nicholai had slept.

"Nicholai, did you see a dark orb in the sky after the troll fell?"

"What do you mean?"

"When... the troll was killed... I looked up, and there was some kind of floating, black sphere... It flew through the air, seemingly by it's own accord, and to the West..."

"No, I didn't. But I shall keep good watch over the sky tonight, and we shall talk more in the morning-- you seem to need a good spell of sleep."

Indeed, she did need it; and until dawn Nicholai sat awake, back on the wet grass blades and eyes to the sky. No odd shapes silhouetted against the deep indigo sky, so he spent his time remembering the constellations which were taught to him in his as a child. For each, there was once a heroic story, telling the same tales of valor, strength, wisdom, and luck over and over in different permutations. I want to be like that, he had thought to himself, over and over. That was some time ago. He did not know if he would ever be the prince or warrior he aspired to be, and he longed for the simple life he was meant to be sharing with his wife-- wherever she was. It was stupid. I was immensely foolish. I ask for only one more chance, Vivienne, when we meet again. In the stars, he could almost see the plump, smiling face of the woman he married and then allowed himself to run off and away from. He hadn't lost a bit of love for her; no, he never had, not even on the eve of his departure. What he had lost was the love for himself, and he knew he could not live without it-- even with the smiling goddess of his dreams beside him.