Arthen: Finding Oneself

Do these pages keep you intrigued

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The father of Martha places his left palm on the young woman’s forehead. “I command the erase of memories.” He commends his wife with a hug.

“When will the amnesia spell expire from how daughter?”

“I’m unsure, my dear.”

He kneels and swoops alongside Martha. He wraps a slim leather necklace with four color jewels. “One day you’ll find the meaning and importance of these gemstones.” He places the twenty-one-year-old woman in a magical canoe. “This will take you to a purpose realm from the Civil War of Polarization Realm.”

The canoe individual Realm Pod crashes into a shallow part of a cave on a raining dreary night, the lightning strikes, and flashes throughout the clouds. The roaring thunder crackles like a wakeup for the passage. She stumbles to her feet. The cold soaking clothes cause the young woman shivering.

There she searches for some dry kindle and two rocks. At an angle with the rocks, she focuses on a spark. “I hope this keeps me warm.” There she blows air into the campfire. Next to her lays a small log. She rolls it onto the firepit.

She waves a torch in the dark shadows. A large animal spooks Martha. The canine large doglike stands on its hind back legs. The young woman extends her left arm for the mysterious beast to either accept or not.

The wolf skin changer speaks with calmness in its tone. “Saint Martha is your name. I’m not allowed to explain your purpose. I’m sent by a higher power. They need you to rescue three children. Their names are from oldest to youngest. Oliver. The twin sisters, Angelica and Atum. Then it’s Kyoat.”

The young woman nods in agreement. “So, my name is Martha. Why did you call me Saint Martha?”

“I’m a Vanika Canine. You’ll learn more of the true purpose.”

He pauses as Vanika sits on a stone. “Rescue the children before their taken to the Licosandra Realm.”

Smokes ascends from the fire. She coughs and coughs before exiting out of the cave. The rain drizzles into a foggy mist. “How will I know about these children and why does Licosandra seem familiar?”

The firepit sparkles in the cave. The Vanika introduces itself. “Name’s Onlif. I oversee the gates of the Light Realm. Martha, first go see the blind Oracle inside the sundial.”

The wetness cold spell sticks with Onlif after his breath appears white. “These magical breath forms rags to riches.” He paces with his eyes glued in the center of this mysterious saint. “Pray to the gods when you arrive at the center sundial.” He waves his snout in the direction of an unordinary crack that splits into a wishbone symbol.

The young woman wraps some cloth around the end of a wooden club with a leather handle. She rubs her fingertips through the crevices of the craving. “It’s missing a piece.”

The Vanika laughs with glee. “Maybe, and maybe not.” It disappears into the shadows. She changes at different angles on the perspective of the wishbone symbol.

The saint glances around for an object to fit the puzzle. She sighs three times before tripping over a stonelike staff. She struggles at first then her inner powers release the prison empowerment. When she lines up the pieces, there appears a high voltage of an unknown surge. “What just happened?”

The rocks shift clockwise as Saint Martha stands on the matching symbol. In her eyes the clouds and the partial Ocean Blue sky, the young maiden ascends some stone steps. “How particular for a neon purple steed?”

She circles the beast of animal. Her mouth drops in awe as she rubs its mane with a dark purple. The steed bows on one knee. It helps the new master to mount with a connection between both power spheres. She inhales and exhales three times before pressing a firm grip on the rings.

Saint Martha buckles with her heels on the lower stomach of the majestic beast of an animal. It aims its nose into the air for a scent of a magical elemental orb stones. It races in the east direction near the coastline of Alterrain Ocean. She rides bareback as their connection merges into each other’s soul.

“I think I’m going to call you Bree.” The beast snorts out some dust from its nostrils. It descends the speed. Something shiny flashes from the sunray’s warmth. The majestic steed kneels for the saint to slide off and examine the surroundings. “Something caught my eye of curiosity.”

She followers with several fingers IUVAWESMXXIP “It’s from a dead language. Beware, but from what.” She casts a cleansing spell with water to rid the dirt in the cracks and crevices. She places the broken tablet in her satchel. “I wonder if there’s more out here in the Light Realm.”

She swings the torch in all the shadows. Another piece of shiny stone glistens for attention. Saint Martha moves the debris. “More of the dead language from another realm.”

She places all five fingertips over the words. YHAVEQUEB. “It reads Destructive Has Been Awaken.” She places her first tablet next to it. Each letter lights up in four different colors.

“Four Lost Kingdoms Rise Up Again.” She grins in disbelief. “Squaroff Tribe and Licos are preparing for a civil war with their realms.” The words vanquish from the stone tablets.

A hidden message resembles the words. “Find the Ancient Guardians first.” The stones crumble into dust. Saint Martha drops them without waiting for the furnace blaze from the piles.

She stops investigating for the moment. There the saint waves the torch in a windy pitch-black howling of the wind gust. “I need to see what’s beyond this room.” She overlooks the warning in the painted mural. Her eyes glow a hue color between blue and green.

She stands in the center of a love story between the man from the east. It displays that the man sacrifices his love for a true love. The natives of the Squaroff tribe clans present its precious woman. Then another engravement represents a ten-year peace offer.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

She presses a secretive trap on the painting. A magical door opens in the picture of a waterfall. “I wonder.” The saint enters.

“Two realms about to do battle. Could the other two realms be?”

She waves the fiery torch over the center of another room. There it circles the saint. Then she spreads out the flames over the adjoining torches. “Now every way their torches light each way.”

In the direct center of the ceiling these symbols highlight TTUBANMA, the saint examines the phrase. “Running With Each Other.”

The deep voice of Onlin echoes in the mind of the young woman. “Finding the Guardians and Knights of these two realms will follow your strong leadership.”

She hears the calling of the adventure. A small tornado of dust sweeps particulars of different elements into transforming two visions. Martha extends her composure into a taller positive pressure. “What about these four children?”

The dust whirlwind storm in a blink of an eye appears fiery flies that interacts with the saint. She mistrusts her decisions at first, but then the heavy sound of a heartbeat guides to the mysterious chamber tomb. When her foot touches the symbolic stones on the floor, the fiery flies combine into a combustion that lights the eight torches in the room. “What is this room?”

She cleanses the marble stone coffins. The names engraved above along with the importance of the directional color. “Asteria. Anya. Aban. Ba.” From a distance shines daybreak, the saint weaves through the room. “My way out. I presume.”

The spiral staircase leads into another Tomb of Four Directional Knights. Saint Martha kneels to admire the engravements. “Green Knight Judas.” The opposer side lays. “Blue Knight Ryrn.” In the center of the northern room lays. “Pink Knight Mark.” When she spins around, the name pops out from the others. “Black Knight Armor John.”

As she strolls around the large chambers of Tombs, Saint Martha enters a room with three options. Her eyes glance at each of the Reflective Mirrors. “I know this is some sort of a mirages.” She overhears a mysterious man’s voice. “Stop! Release from this Broken Past, Present, or Future.”

After the voice the wind rustles with fierce, the torches blowout. There the saint stands in the darkness of visualizes flutter past through her. These contain surges of power. Then without hesitation a cloak appears over her entire body.

Two shadow figures leap out from the inner soul within Martha. She collapses to the floor on her knees. She grasps from a breath. Then there she coughs up some blood. “Something escaped from my two spheres.”

She aches in her chest from the life and death experience. Then there a deep voice out of the surrounding shadows. “My dear young maiden. We are almost at the persist on the right time.”

“That voice sounds a lot like Father Time of the different realms all throughout Arthen.”

Saint Martha snaps as the flames flicker then it ceases out. In the zero visibility, the ceiling lights up with the four colors of the Lost Kingdoms. She keeps her pace as the end comes close. “Another chamber, but this one has thirteen marble tombs.”

A neon blue light sparkle as an old man with a dirty beard. “Martha, it is I, Father Time. I’ve been waiting for you. Please – follow.” The second impression of this tall slender man covers all in white as snow.

When the Immortal stands in anyone’s presence, the fierce winds howl in every direction of despise. “Do you recognize me?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’re – you are an Immortal of the universe or Arthen Universe.”

As the young woman follows this godlike figure, her feet set off ripples of something hides from the truth. She keeps it to herself about the intuition. Father Time sounds puzzled about his niece. “Martha, you need to recapture your memories about the Lost Kingdoms.”

She admires the wisdom. Saint Martha shrugs before answering. Then she recalls about the different tombs. “Will I discover the other Ancient Ones?”

Father Time paces over to his stone alter. “They will aid you on your journeys.”

He displays in his crystal bluish ball four reflective mirrors. “Reflective Mirror of Truth appears on the Island of Theina.” He hands her a handheld mirror. “This elemental piece will light up when your close to your target.”

She examines the mirror. There she shrugs when the item places in the satchel. Father Time glares at a painting in the room.

“Martha, you must find out if this adventure has your heart and desire.”

Father Time summons his Staff of Flying Stars. He guides her down some steps that lead into the center of the Home of Time. Saint Martha studies the carvings in his staff. “What does your staff symbolize?”

She experiences a sever flashback of a child. She dances in a pokey dot dress. There strolls next to two other men a father figure. Father Time pauses as he studies the powers gather within this young woman.

“Martha are you okay.” He comforts from his tone.

Her surroundings blink with a highlight of purple and black. Martha shakes it off like the matter might wait. “So, I need to go to the Island of Theina first.”

Father Time prepares to give out some other commands. Then the saint develops several situational scenarios. There she waits for her time.

“Martha, there are five parts before you can enter the crypt in the center of the heart.”

He solves a quick problem before it causes a much larger one. “Go and fetch the other two spirits from your two spheres.”

She bows and leaves without discussing another topic about her quest. Saint Martha glance one last time at a purified Immortal. “I will find out what you are hiding from me, Father Time.” She shrugs glares at the rock floor. There engraves on the corners of the doorway other symbols.

The pathway that ascends in a wide spiral staircase. Saint Martha examines the different symbols on the way out. At the bird’s eye view of the floor, the floor resembles some purified soul of a woman. “I wonder what this place is.”

Saint Martha strides through the teleportation doorway. Then it opens at a location outside of a massive crater. “What happened here?”

She attempts to look for the bottom.

Her steed approaches from the misty fog. Around the neck of Saint Martha hangs a twin chain necklace with three spinning ovals of different sizes. She stares at the craftsmanship of the different symbols. “The symbols seem to glow, but why?”

The beast of the animal kneels. It helps the young woman to straddle the bareback of the steed. Out of nowhere a mysterious voice overshadows. “Saint Martha, we need to head in the directional East.”

She searches in every direction for the hidden voice. “Show yourself!”

“I’m here already. Calm down. You’ll give away our location.”

The saint climbs down and pulls on the ear of the steed. “You could speak this whole time? Why would you keep this from me?”

The beast morphs into a chameleonlike human. He stands tall with broad shoulders. He directs for the saint to follow him off the road at night. “These roads are dangerous because of bandits that overrule the fort up ahead.”

“What are you – who are you?”

“I’m Alffrey. I’m an animal god guide.” He makes a camping fire for the cold night. “Here is my animal fur for warmth.”

Alffrey stay alert all through the night. His animal instincts keep him on his toes. Alffrey smells a river in the area. He notices all sorts of animal tracks. Martha falls into a deep sleep trying to keep an eye on this mystery person.

The birds chirp as the rays of daybreak light streaks over the eastern horizon. Alffrey carries in both hands two fish apiece to start a new day. “Martha, you should move around to wake up your body.”

As he cleans the first two fish, Alffrey shakes off from voicing the truth to his companion. “Martha, do you know who your real father is?”

He tosses their meal on some thin rocks for a grill. There he straights up and waits for a response.

“I just can’t remember. I have vividly daydreams. Their like fifteen seconds or shorter.”

He yawns to accept his position. Then he passes a tinplate and some utensils.

Alffrey snaps twice. The belongings disappear. Martha switches around her right palm. She examines the map of her next destination. “Keeping heading East. The Coastline of Truth oversees with rock cliffs.”

The steed marches up to the saint. It kneels in front of its owner. Saint Martha climbs on it. She whips on the rings. There it scatters up some dust behind the trail.

She rides as the wind blows her hair. A crackling lightning sets fires in front of them. Alffrey pauses without a scared moment. “What do you think that sign was from?”

“I don’t know, but we need to keep moving.”

The symbol in the middle of the road. There sit four small circles within each one an engravement of ‘V’ markings in the compass directional. Alffrey kneels. The saint studies these symbols. The steed transforms back into a man. He slides out two scrolls. Then he places them on top of a set of two. He takes out some coal and scribbles over the two.

“How peculiarly strange?”

On the scroll pertains a hidden message, Alffrey attempts to transcribe both codes. “One plus Five. Two multiple Five.” He paces for a second repeats the two messages. “Something’s missing. I’m sure of it.”

The saint glances and simply asks one question. “Could this be some sort of a hidden message for the us?”

Then when Alffrey glares back at the mark. “It vanishes without nothing back just dirt.” He squats down and wipes the area with a thin tissue like strip. “This trick will help us on our journey.” He sticks it back in a smaller pouch.

Saint Martha sits on a large rock and twiddles her thumbs and her observation for this unknown being. Alffrey pours a small amount of BioHerdic. Afterwards he smacks two gemstones for a bluish greenish flame, it displays the truth automatic words form from the scorch marks. One Plus Five Street and Two Multiple Five Avenue.

“Hmm. Now I see.” He strolls over and grins. “We need to be careful from now on this adventure.”

He extends his hand. She shakes it off and stands side-by-side.

“Let’s get going to the next town to see if the code will help us.”

She shrugs. Then Alffrey metamorphous into the steed. Saint Martha levitates to straddle her animal guide. “Hustle. We need some answers.”

The sunsets in the west as Alffrey gallops near the gate for entrance. The guards order every entry state your business. Saint Martha steps down leads her steed into this majestic city. “What’s this place?”

“It’s Ricolas. The capital of the Kingdom Theina.”

The other guard pounds his spear and heavy shield. “What’s your reason for the visit?”

“No reason. Just never been here.”

The guards stop the interrogating. “Pass by but heath our warning.”

She leads Alffrey over to the stables. Saint Martha grabs a brush and rubs the mane of this beautiful animal. It lays down over some hay. She nibbles on some bread. A stableman brings over some sort of meat.

“You’re not from around Ricolas?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He rakes up the mess from the horses. Every six hours he feeds each one. Saint Martha leans against a doorway frame. “What do you know?”

“Huh?”

She rewords the question. “Who would a person talk too about the Kingdom Theina?”

“Head to the Inn down a couple of streets.” He tosses a bucket of water to start cleaning the floors.

Martha twists his head at an angle. The door closes behind Alffrey. It keeps him in animal form. “That door is some kind of magical element.”

“I’ll deal with that at another moment.” Martha yawns to begin her day in this mysterious city. “I’ll stay out of the road.” She strolls up the street.

As Martha reads the different shops. Her eyes catch the warning. “One Plus Five. Two Multiple Five.” She reaches in that direction. Then something swallows her in another part of the city Ricolas.

“Saint Martha, here follow me.” A mythical human covers her face with a robe. It reaches for the wrist of Martha. There it drags her into a dusty show.

She removes her hood. “I called you to this kingdom.”

“Why? What’s going on in this mystery?”

The mythical woman hovers over to a nightstand. She places on three rings, five bracelets, and two different colors of pray beads. “I’m the lost soul of the Grandmaster Sorceress Theina.”

Saint Martha gulps for a breath. She admires how purity this spirit seems lifelike. “Is that why there’s no mirrors in this hidden living quarters?”

Her touch and blood flow all throughout its body. “How can this be?”

The mythical woman praises that the saint appears in her presence. “I’m Albigia.” She paces in her cabinets searching for one last ingredient. “Where is the turquoise gemstone?”

Saint Martha stays still and examines with her inner sight of the connection between Albigia and Theina. Her sight retrieves that Albigia appears to be dying from this realm.

“Albigia, did Grandmaster Sorceress Theina absorb another source of power?”

The spirit nods before speaking. The saint overhears chatter outside this hidden quarters. She peeks out of a crack. “There is some sort of authority people.”

“Damn, they found me!”

She grips with a spiritual lasso around the wrist of the saint. “Please follow me in my hidden tunnel.” She removes a golden coin from the bottom of a bookcase. There a passageway opens for the two women. Albigia leads the saint out from trouble.

Saint Martha retracts the pull. “Tell me what’s going on with you, before we take another step.”

Albigia signs. “You are right. Grandmaster Sorceress Theina tossed me aside when she traded for the twin child, Atum.”

Saint Martha waves for Albigia to get them out of danger. “I’m not done discussing this matter.”

Albigia touches five golden bricks. Then the entrance behind them dissolves into a thick wall. “Now we can catch our breath, and not worry about the Authority Wardens.”

Saint Martha grips on the sleeve of Albigia. “What are Authority Wardens?”

“Magical Hunters!”

“Oh. Please explain the consequences when someone is caught.”

Albigia breaths three times. “You have nothing to worry about it, Martha.” She leads them to a door covered with bushes on the outside. She heaves the heavy door open to the outside. She peeks out to search that no one notices.

“Call me Abby for short.” She steps out in the shadows. There she signals for the saint to sprint. When the saint moves, her body blinks in and out as if someone or something agitates in summoning Saint Martha.

Saint Martha sprints in a mystical mannerism. Abby moves in lightning speed. She covers the saint with her cloak, until sometime. “We need to wait for the summoning spell to wear down the time.”

In a few seconds a massive explosion ignites a large area into a wildfire, Abby studies for a quick passage from the danger. She grips the wrist of the saint. There she drags in a zigzag pattern. “Someone knows who you are?”

Martha keeps a close eye on her new companion. “What neighborhood is this?”

Her eyes blur out the stench of decay skin. Abby guides her friend out of the way from the royal guards storming on their horses. “Shush, those guards look for some new fresh meat for the Torturer.”

Saint Martha scans the tracks of the guards’ horses. “We should follow them. Who knows they might help us get closer to my objective?”

Abby shakes her head in disbelief. “You need to follow my lead.”

They dash in a twilight blink. Abby climbs up a wall with her fingernails. “Oh, how did you do that with your nails?”

She leans on an air vent glares in the sunlight. “I’ll explain later, but there’s the location.”

Martha focuses her vision on targets in armor of different animal skins. She reads in separate situations of defending the innocent civilians. “Should we help?”

“No!” Abby pulls a step back from the conversation. “It’s your decision, saint.”

Martha levitates descends on the ground. She squints at the chief royal guard. “What’s your name?”

“Melhorne, what business do you have in our city?”

He rushes with his sludge hammer. There he slams a spark hit. She swifts to the side and observes in slow motion his swing. Then she fierce her palm into his stomach. He flies into a wooden shop.

“What or who was that?”

He searches for any kinds of a magical scent left from the patron. “Nothing.”

Melborne extends his right palm with an extensive strain for leftover residue magic. His hand changes into two different substances. One morphine power inflames when he moves in

the right direction. He notices that the other freezes into a subzero chill zone. “How very particular strange?”

Melborne wipes his hands with the dirt mix with ash from the mysterious woman. “I need to stay on my guard.” He signals for his men to head back to the protection zone.

Abby creeps from behind. “Saint Martha, we need to hide before a location spell casts in this area.”

The people in the marketplace scatter before the Location Spell freezes the entire area. Abby grips the shoulder of the saint. She pulls her into a hidden place under the ground. “It’s happening now. Please be quiet, until I tell you otherwise.”

A supersonic ringtone beeps for three seconds, before a crackle tone of the device unlocking the top of it. Saint Martha closes and attempts a connection with a source outside. “It’s a metallic ball.” She recons the vision in the area.

“How did you?”

The saint keeps silent. She points a pinpoint location. “It came from the upper level.”

Abby pouts for a second. Then an idea appears to make her smile from cheek to cheek. “We can get to another level through the sewer.” She rises to her feet from the metal seat. There she waves for Saint Martha.

The saint blinks with her eyes. It speeds up the motion for a standing stance. “Lead on my dear friend.”

Abby catches her attention on something particular of the symbol triple wavy lines. “I’ve never seen this pathway.” She signals for Saint Martha. “Follow this way.”

In the vision lays cobwebs cover, Saint Martha raises her arms high above her head. “I order for cleansing these souls.”

Orbs ascend from the ground. “How did you know that this place needed a purification?”

Saint Martha grins a little bit. “It’s like second nature for me.”

Abby scans the area for another marker. It appears in a corner near the darkness. She blows some mystical water in midair. There the imprint lights a combination between its powers along with the misty enchantment.

It swirls the mythical spirit water in both directions clockwise and counterclockwise. Abby with a slight hue color that highlights her physical form directs the two as if she needs to trap the saint.

“What are you doing, Abby?”

She shrugs before stares in the eyes of the saint. “This is your destiny.” She uses a single index finger. Then flicks the forehead of Saint Martha. It hurls the saint into an abyss of water.

A whirlpool drains the massive room. The saint releases a shriek call. It signifies a beacon of power. “I will see you again!”

The fierce of the current slaps the head of the saint against a rock. She starts fading in and out of consciousness. Abby stands tall next to Melborne. “She is the problem of the Gods and Goddesses in the Reflective of Truth or Behold.”

The two laughs then Melborne steps into the shadows. “Our Mother Sorceress Theina needs to know that her end is in the Realm of Truth or Behold.” He slits a portal open with a silver dagger.

Abby follows her brother, after one last glance of this disbelief. “Should I keep an eye on the saint?”

“Send yourself into a crow’s view.”

It zips up, but a stratosphere spirit in a visibility of some birdlike creature soars into the time warp.

During the warp zone several colors display like in a prism, then the vision changes into crystal blue skies. The unknown birdlike creature squawks out for a quick scan for lifeform down below. There lies a female laying in the sandy beach with the tide washing to her waistline.

It morphs from the birdlike creature into a pulp of a woman. She snaps twice then average handmaiden clothes shape on her figure. “Alffrey! Alffrey! Come and help me with this helpless woman!”

The farmer drops his tools then he hurries to the voice. There he searches, but still nothing. He keeps moving in the direction. “Who calls out?”

When he reaches the shores, drench in sand and water lays an unconscious young woman. “Was this the person I needed to find?”

He hollers out from the beach. “What am I supposed to do with her!”

Still no answers for the farmer. He scoops up the woman in his arms. Then he carries her back through the trails. He looks at his canine friend. “Do you think she’ll wakeup anytime soon?”

It bows down and covers its eyes for an answer. “I thought you would say that. Ha. Ha.”

He whistles for him to lead the way.

His four-legged friend nudges open the front door. He smiles with its tongue sticking out. Alffrey lays her down nice and easy. “Keep her warm through the night.” It extends the right paw on the edge of the bed.

Alffrey refills the water bowl and food dish. “Just leave her alone for the moment.” He pours himself some juice from a glass jar. There he slouches in his rocking chair.

The howling voice in the wind recites some form of a lyrical chant trance. “Bring the woman to Mount Saint Temple. Bring the woman in fourteen days and nights.”

He sips the glass as the voices recite through his mind and dreams. His ears overhear a stream. His canine friend shoves the left knee of Alffrey. “Thanks for the waking me.”

His eyes catch a stratosphere of a spirit in a sight seeking towards the Sanction Mountain. “We’re going on a great adventure tomorrow. My dear friend.”

The dog friend lays next to his master on the floor. Alffrey collapses on his hay couch.

The man’s best friend rises in alertness. It bites the hand of Alffrey, until his movement. “What is it, boy?”

He moves in the shadows of silence. There he peeks out of his window. “Fire in the barnyard?”

Something lands on the rooftop. Crackling of pulled shingles disturb the farmer. He grips his arms underneath the body of Martha. Then they escape out the backdoor.

He stays low with the picket fence. Whenever they stand far apart from the farmhouse, Alffrey pulls out from his inside pocket a small pair of binoculars. He examines the beast.

“It’s some sort of a wolflike creature. I thought they were way north from any civilization.”

He rises from one knee. Alffrey rubs his index finger over the cheek bone of Martha. Then he fixes her hair. His eyes catch the four gemstones leather necklace. “I wonder if the old man in the middle of Mount Saint Temple.”

The canine friend tosses some hares down on the ground. “You’re hungry. Yes, I am too.” He ties the two hares on his belt buckle. There he scoops up the unconscious woman. He follows a rock pathway.

He rubs around the dirty ground that may reveal if other tracks whether its animal or human. “Boots. The depth looks like soldiers, but from where?”

Alffrey catches a glimpse of one free horse from his barn. “Easy girl. Bernadatta.” She counts out with her right hoof. He places the unconscious woman over the back of his horse. There he whistles for his dog. “Buddy, sniff out those tracks. Lead us.”

The silhouettes of the wolflike creatures finish the destructive of the farm. The farmer overhears the squeals from the hogs and cattle. He loads his double barrel shotgun. The Alpha growls out in words. “She’s not here. Search for the scent.” The fire spreads all throughout the eight acres.

He guides Bernadatta out of the area. His dog paces with a jog next to the side of the gallop. Buddy chases down two more Jack Hares. Alffrey sets up a campsite. He cooks the meat of the legs.

Buddy nibbles on the meat around the pelvis bone of one Jack Hare. Alffrey boils some of the meat to cook soup. He assists the woman to sip on some of it. “We are seven days from the Mount Saint Temple.” He pours some water and gravel dirt on the firepit.

Alffrey strides downhill with ease. His patients concern the horse and this woman. Buddy, the canine, halts kneel behind some rocks. His master follows in silence. There he pulls out his binoculars. The view displays skin changers walking on hindlegs. “What the world are those?”

A scout sends a party of five warriors. His animal friends stay calm. “Your brother wants to see you.”

“He’s my brother from this tribe.” Alffrey guides his horse and man’s best friend down the trail.

“Alffrey. Longtime, no see.” The wind blows a slight dirt cloud. Alffrey squints with his eyes.

Ohlin prepares for greeting his brother. “Wait, why do you have the Saint Martha with you?”

Alffrey twists his head. “You mean this unconscious woman is Saint Martha.” He replays the incidents. “Sorceress Abby lead me to this woman, but why?”

The two sit around a sizzling firepit. “This woman that I’ve been caring for is Saint Martha.” Alffrey examines her cheekbone. He shakes his head as if its disbelief about their fate.

Ohlin rises to his feet. “Rotation of the guards. We’re going to have one of those nights.” He sniffs the air one last time. “It’s going to be a downpour.”

By Ace

From: United States

Twitter: AceSuttles