When the Sun Goes Down

Nimae

Stomp, thud. Stomp, thud.

The sounds echoed in my head, pinging against my skull like sonar.

I trudged through the trees and fallen leaves. The sun sank behind the treetops, leaving the sky blushing red.

I staggered on.

The empty scabbard thumped against my left calf; memories of my lost sword ringing in my ears. I was hopeless, defenseless. All I had were two daggers, experience with hand-to-hand combat, and the branch I was using as a cane. Along with them were a fatigued mind, an hollow stomach, and a wounded leg.

Stomp, thud. Stomp, thud.

I hoped to rid of the cane as soon as possible. It made too much noise in the hushed forest, and I could already hear the demons on their way as if it were night. Well, my mother always said I was a quick healer.

My heart ached at the thought. I turned to face the direction in which I came. Just above the tree tops rose the mountain peaks I grew up on. The same peaks I would never see again.

I turned back to the path that wasn't there. Maybe there was no path because no one ever went into this forest. Maybe there was an actual path just twenty feet away from where I stood. Perhaps that path was parallel to the one I was making, or perhaps it curved away from me. Either way, I would have to exit the woods at some point.

I continued through the trees. For some reason it was already late in the afternoon. Looking up at the sky, I guessed there was three, maybe four hours of sunlight left. The demons would be passing into our world soon.

Several minutes flew by until a sound stopped me in my tracks. To my left stood a dusty grey rabbit, scrounging for food.

I swiftly crouched down, hidden from the animal by trees and shrubbery. My knife slid out of its sheath without a sound and aimed itself at the bunny, as if it was just as hungry as I. My arm drew back, ready to throw. My fingers twitched in anticipation, waiting for the perfect time to strike. My stomach yearned for its next meal. And my mind hesitated.

Eating means killing this rabbit. Killing the rabbit and eating it means I'll have to cook it. Cooking it means I have to make a fire. Making a fire means I have to pause my trek. Pausing my trek means I won't be moving forward.

I stood up, sheathed my dagger, and continued forward. The bunny fled.

~

Next thing I knew light was creeping back into the world. How I survived the night without any encounters, I wasn't sure.

I sat on the forest floor, unwinding the cloth I used the previous day to cover my wound. My leg had stopped bleeding, thank the gods, but it didn't look very healthy. I would need to get it looked at by a medic in the civilization that I was sure to come across soon.

I rewrapped my calf and got back up. At least I could put some of my weight on my right side.

As always, I walked forward, my mind once again in a haze. I started counting I my head to pass the time.

I made it to 3,870 when the faint smell of burning wood wafted into my nostrils. Shocked, I moved faster toward the smell. There, in a small clearing, was a campfire. There was nothing but ash and burnt wood. I knelt down to touch the charred logs; they were warm.

They couldn't have been gone for long. I got up to chase after them when I noticed a backpack leaning against a tree.

They forgot it? No, they're still here.

Putting aside my conscience, I quickly rushed to and opened the pack. Inside were copper and silver pieces, dried meat, stale bread, a compass, and four maps.

I took the jerky and some of the coins and deposited them into my pouch. Curiosity got the better of me and I carefully unfurled one of the maps.

It showed a detailed version of the Yler forest. The Raltic river drove through the map like a knife, although I haven't seen the river in my journey so far. There was, however a path. If this person is here, that means I was heading in the right direction.

It was during that thought when I heard a gasp.

Without even seeing the person who made the sound, I ran.