Selenite

Chapter 3

Leaving everything you've ever known is bittersweet. Other than my regular visits to the shrine, I've never been outside the city borders, and I only have a general idea of where my sister will be.

When I was 12, she was sent away to live with another group of monks and witches that could better help her with the magic she wanted to study. I haven't seen her since, and my mother gave me little news of her. I can only hope she is still there.

I double check that I have everything that I need. I am still wearing only the clothes I changed into when I got here: the white shirt and black leggings. My feet are bare, so I pull on a pair of black boots, and grab a pair of sandals and put them in my bag for good measure. I also wrap a black hooded cloak around my shoulders, clasping it with a fastener at my neck. There are clouds on the horizon, and I don't want to have to walk in soaking wet clothes.

As I walk out of the shrine, I run my hand along the marble walls of the hallway. It leeches the warmth from my fingers, but, in a way, it is comforting. I will miss this place while I am gone.

The waning crescent moon is high in the sky, surrounded by the constellations of Gemini, Cancer, and Leo. It is almost a new moon. Typically I would be preparing for the rituals of rebirth and new beginnings that are associated with this phase of the lunar cycle, but I have no time to stop for the days of preparation that many of the rituals require.
I kneel before the goddess statue once again and ask for her blessing in my travels. Then, rising, I use a ritual knife from my pack to carve runes and sigils of protection into each of the trees surrounding the shrine. Without me here, I will be unable to directly protect the area, but these symbols will be able to keep out any magical attacks that may happen.

While making my way around the ring of trees, I gaze down on the remains of the city. It reminds me of a live coal, with the ashes and cinders constantly shifting, but with one exception: the embers are white, just as the flames were.

I did this...all of those innocent people, and everything that we've worked for...it's all gone. I can feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes and I blink rapidly to clear them. This is no time to cry.

The path that I need to take is overgrown with vines and weeds, making it barely discernible from the rest of the landscape. I remember my mother sending my sister down this road, back when it was well kept and frequently used. This is the path I have to take, and I can only hope it will take me to her.

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It feels like I've been walking for days, even though it has barely been two. The sun is sinking along the western horizon, but it still feels hot. The cloak is heavy on my shoulders and I'm starting to regret wearing it.

My feet are sore, but I don't want to risk taking too many breaks; there were many stories that circulated around the city when I was little about the dangerous creatures that roamed the plains and forests outside of our borders. It's true that many of them only wander at night, but I feel more exposed under the light of the sun. I long for the night, when I can slip between the shadows of the trees unnoticed.

The sun is hurting my eyes, and staring ahead only makes the path feel longer, so I busy myself with studying the tracks and footprints in the dirt. Most of them are humanesque, but every now and then, the print of a wolf or another creature shows up, faded almost beyond recognition. It's funny how the road tells the stories that have been long forgotten by my people: times of peace and communication with different groups and species.

The path begins to slope beneath my feet; I am heading into a valley. The sun disappears behind a cluster of hills as I continue down, and I can finally see the rest of the path clearly.

I stop to drink some water and check my burn, which, thank the goddess, isn't infected, and sit down underneath a tall elm. I lean against the trunk of the tree and take a few deep breaths, unhindered by movement. The burning sensation slowly starts to leave my muscles and I relax.

Only now do I notice how quiet it is. There is only the sound of my breath, the slight breeze rustling in the branches, and the occasional bird call. It would be peaceful, if only I didn't have the constant feeling of being watched looming over me. I draw the hood of my cloak over my head. It's comforting, even if it does little to actually hide me from potential attackers.

I try to stand and move on, but I can only make it a few yards before my muscles insist on another break. Maybe stopping for a rest wasn't such a good idea.

The ground feels too exposed for a longer break, so I force my aching limbs to scale a tree and find a semi-comfortable place to lay down. I pick a branch that offers concealment, but allows me to view the path below.

I watch the last shred of sunlight disappear from the sky, and the moon rising a few minutes later. Only a sliver is visible, with the rest being shadowed by the earth. It is the sole light in this space, save the stars.

Or is it?

In the distance, on the top of the highest hill in the cluster that blocked the sun, a small flame wavers. It illuminates the side of a small building, as well as a small road leading up to it.

Maybe whoever lives there, if anyone does, will know where I can find my sister. It's the best shot I have.

But for now, as my limbs continue to protest any movement, I have to rest. I curl my fingers around the stone at my neck and allow myself to drift off.

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A twig snaps and suddenly I am awake. It is still night, but the moon has set and is nowhere to be seen. I move as quietly as I can, backing myself farther into the concealment of the tree's branches.

Through the leaves I can see them coming down the path. I can hear their voices: mostly quiet, whispering ones that blend together into indistinction. They are clad in silver-green clothes, distinguishing them as a species long said to have gone extinct.

These are tree-spirits. Dryads.

As they come closer I can see them running. No, not just running: running from something. They are being chased. The terror on their faces reveals that much. The one that seems to be the leader points ahead, towards the building I spotted earlier, giving instruction to go there, I assume.

I hold my breath as they pass, although I doubt any of them would stop even if they heard me.

They pass quickly and disappear into the distance. I wait for the pursuers to show up, but after several minutes of waiting, they never do. The hills remain just as quiet as they were before the dryads came.

I jump down from the limbs of the tree. I have to move on. Something is wrong here, and I feel the warning presence of my pendant. The quiet is not peaceful, it is lifeless, and that lifelessness is hiding something. 

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I'm so sorry for not updating sooner! Things have just been really busy with work and school, so I haven't had much time to write. Hopefully I'll be able to stick to a regular schedule now that I'm on break.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know if you did, or if you have any recommendations to make it better. I'll have the next chapter up in a few days!