The Lost Bellator

Three

Iter

He started for the market place first, gathering herbs and anything he thought he would need for his travel. It was near empty, save for a few vendors here and there, but everyone else it seemed had decided to pack up and retreat for the night. Only the pub was lit by lanterns, casting its orange glow on the rocky ground around him, shining its light towards the forest that held things Arlaige had never heard of. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he stared at the edge of the market place. He spared a glance behind him before he turned back, pushing his hair from his eyes. He could see the mountains looming up from the tall trees, and he knew that he would somehow have to get there. But he was done questioning how or why, now all he was doing was... doing.

And so he took a shaky step forward, fending off his nerves as he comes face to face with the looming shadows, the fifty foot tall trees, the large oaks, and the unforgiving night. One foot in front of the other, he told himself, and that's what he did. He crossed the tree line, and he was in the forest, holding his lantern before him so that it lit his path, and he walked.

He could barely feel the cold seeping into his shoes, or the wind nipping at his face, he was numb to it all. But he wasn't numb to the fear that he felt at the rustling of the leaves in the wind, or the hoot of an owl. He knew of wolves in parts of the woods, deeper in, and he knew of criminals that took refuge in the dense of the trees. But he also knew of people that went in and never came out. A shudder passes over him, not from the cold, and he takes one last glance behind himself before he forces himself to stare forward.

Branches cracked under his feet and every-time they did, he cringed slightly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. It was dark, and the sun wouldn't rise for hours, and Arlaige knew that if he was to survive the night, he would have to act smart. He knew it probably wasn't the best idea to leave at night, but he also knew that he could no longer wait to act.

He trudged on, only to stop at a small rustling sound and he feels his heart leap into his throat. Don't panic don't panic don't... He turns, raising his lantern high, the light shining along the trees and bushes. His hand was shaking and he clenched onto the handle harder.

"Who's there?" He calls. Stupid question. It wasn't like anyone would answer him.

He shakes his head, pulling his hood back slightly and pushing his hair out of his eyes again, it always fell a different way, and it was always in his face. He had sheared most of it off before he left, and it now curled around his face instead of hanging at his shoulders, but he still kept it covered. It was red and stood out and he didn't need any attention drawn to himself. But still, his short hair made his neck cold.

The rustling sounds again and he takes a step forward, shielding himself with a tree and peering around it. Nothing. He passes by the tree, taking slow steps and being careful to make as little noise as possible. One of the bushes ahead of him was rustling and that must be where the sound was coming from. Arlaige takes another step, reaching out to touch the bush before it shudders and he leaps back, landing hard on the ground. The snow hadn't quite covered the ground yet, and so he was met with cold, frozen land. An ache started up his spine, but he didn't pay attention, his focus had gone back to the bush, but it was no longer shuddering, and as he held out his lantern he let out a sigh of relief as a familiar song reaches his ears and his songbird hops out from behind the bush, turning its head at Arlaige before it flutters by him, keeping out of reach of him, but keeping close enough to where he could make out the colors of his fur.

"Where'd you get off scaring me like that?" He question angrily, standing up and dusting the snow from himself only to have it replaced a second later. He gives up and shakes off the fear that had stricken him before he gives his bird a glance and inclines his head. It shoots up from the ground and perches on a branch above him before letting out a single cry and heading off.