Exile

Chapter 1

The sweet summer breeze plays across my skin, the glades of the grass poke against my skin, penetrating but un-harming. I hear the ants around my person scatter along the ground, brushing against the small blades of the grass. Some of them curious of the big object in front of them, get close to me and prod around me with their antennas.

    Son , you have to embrace, to embrace is to change, to change is to adapt, to adapt is to survive. For our people to live, we are to do this. We are to scrape by, fighting against a force that is greater than us on all sides. The only way to survive this onslaught, is to listen, to feel, and to hone all your senses. To the point that you are one with yourself, and yourself to be one with you

The blades of grass begin to fringe with heat, the ants begin to scatter from all around me and those that are closest to me die. The forest I'm in begins to to burn, and the fresh summer breeze turns into the blistering cold of the winter snow. My skin turns numb, I look around me and no longer is the forest burning but just the bite of the winter storm, clouding all of my sight. No longer am I laying on my back, I shoot straight up, my world tipping right before me. Along with the world tipping, my father appears before me his eyes as an ice blue, his white long hair flows behind him, his olive skin, shining even more in this debris of cold, but what shines the most, is the crest upon his exquisite elven armor. He finally gets so close that I have to look up at him, joy flows within me "Papa, where have you been?! I've been looking around camp for you to tell you the great news-" I'm stopped by dread as I see the branding iron his hand with a visible symbol burning bright and hot.

Another piece of advice that I bestow up you before you leave son is this. Duty is everything to the clan, even if it costs you everything you love. Even if it drives you to the brink of death going against all your beliefs. Duty above all else.

The iron strikes down onto my forearm, whites begin to plague my vision, I screech like an animal feeling the pain of my flesh burning and peeling away for the white tip of the iron.

    "Ah!"

    I shoot up, scanning all around me, I reach for my blade that resides near the back of my hip, I feel the grooves of the handles, and tighten my grip around them instinctively. Still scanning . I slowly get up using the tree I leaned myself up against for support, I watch the moonlight shadows of the many trees that surround me, searching for any type of movement that stands out from the night of the forest, after several minutes I let out a sigh of relief, relaxing my tensed muscles. Just to be safe, I walk to the ropes that are set up about thirty meters out wrapped in a perimeter around me, none of them are loose or cut, all taut and solid.

    Squatting down, I string at the craft that I made getting a small oddly satisfaction at the way the rope vibrates from the smallest touch of my finger pulling against it. Was it just the nightmare that woke me up? It's been a long time since the memories of the past decided to haunt me again, the nightmare also brought back that numbing touch of the cold, I can still remember the bite of the blizzard and the burn of the iron. I grab at my left forearm, pulling the loose sleeve of my dark blue tunic, I look at the symbol of the exile among my clan. It's been about twelve years since that horror, since me having to roam by myself. I unsheathe my fathers dagger, it used to be so huge in my hands, now it feels perfect in my hand. The dagger is learned first among my clan as far as weapons go, then after the short sword or or hatchet. You'd only get your personal after completing the rite of passage, achieving something for the clan, whether it be an idea, better way of living, or simply leading an ambush on the enemy. Anything that can help the clan.

    My thoughts are interrupted by a crash of steps, I close my eyes and envision the sounds. More leaves are crushed with each step at a rapid beat with no gaps meaning multiple people, and by the sound of it, they are either well equipped or very clumsy. Maybe both.