This night was longer than the last. The first night with naught but the clothes on my back and the wind in my hair I rode until my horse would let me ride no longer. I had been too long off a saddle. My thighs hurt and my legs were sore. Nothing sorer than my ass. For the nonce I wrapped my arms about the horse's neck, hard. I kept my cheek pressed against the horse's neck just as firmly. The inside of my legs hurt as the horse hide chafed against me. Though he rode smooth, it hurt nonetheless. When my eyes were open, I saw only darkness ahead. We moved too fast too far for me to look back, but I didn't have to. Everynight all I thought of was home in a sort of despondent wayward state of mind. When we stopped I thought of hunting, of sleeping, of why the horse had yet to leave. Stopping was my distraction. We stopped under the shade of a tree, napping by day and riding by night in hopes of avoiding enemies, though of Grims we had yet to see one. It didn't fool me into thinking I was safe however, for even though we were on the outskirts of the kingdom, we still had a long way to go before we left the kingdom's reign. I knew Kara's third watch was somewhere still east, and one of the great rivers north. Beyond that, there were long stretches of plains and grasses, hills and flat lands. I had little idea what I would do after we passed the tower. I've heard the stories of the great rivers everyone has, Onkira is full of them. rivers as wide or wider than lakes, miles wide. Sometimes travelers say it can take hours or days to cross, depending on the river. The pioneering mages of Onkira traversed these rivers and built the Mage Arches- bridges with no support that tranvered the entire span of the famed rivers, and never decay over time. Antebellums have been shattered over the right of these bridges, yet there are still those built outside the realms and domains of the reaches of kingdoms. The nearest freehold known to me is Redweed, which had to still be a month's ride or further. I needed to remeber to get a map at whatever town I happened upon next. If I ever got that far.

The nights mostly passed by slowly, me watching the stars slowly float through the dark abyss of the sky, looking at the grey moon as it turned its phases and the dust moon as it's dusky red light illuminated the sky across from it's grey brother. Me, my thoughts, and the stallion were alone in the dark world. I avoided sleeping, dreams plaguing me more than the disease. Everytime I slept, I never felt asleep. Since the day the soul of the Vovess streamed through his face into mine, my dreams were of darkness and silence, empty as the space between stars. And then it wasn't. I could feel my essence elsewhere, the haze of the world surrounding me like I was in a cloud. The sky was always in dusk, the trees twisted air sharp. I could feel, feel in a way that dreaming you can't. It felt as though every time my eyes closed they opened beneath a different sky I fell asleep in. Awaking, I never wanting to close my eyes again. But this night was longer than the last. I had slept so little these last days that my sleep was catching up. My half spear slapped against my thigh with every pace of the stallion, it's steady beat luring me into a calm, relaxed state. The shadowed grasses and sparse trees made the world seem so dim, the stars above and ahead so small. And tired, so worn, legs aching and mind slow. The cadence of the horse's steady gallop floated hollow across the flat lands, as if the grass never ended. I've never seen the end. But that's foolish, all things end. Home ends, family ends, hope ends, so will my life one day. All things end....

The horse jolted, breaking it's steady rhythm to leap over a root or branch I could have never seen. Looking back, I still couldn't see it. Everything looked so dark to me. As the stallions muscles settled back to a fluid rhythm beneath me, my eyes turned forward again. How long could I keep this going? My lost mind and lost heart would keep me lost forever, but I couldn't say I mind. Don't have a mind to mind either way, everything was so gone. Life is gone, the life I had with my family, coming home everyday to food and a home. Home is gone, no roof, no house , no stairs. The sky is my roof now; looking up I wondered if the mountains would ever let me climb high enough to touch it. Calkolh would take my hand and point to the stars he knew, tell the stories of the beast who could walk up to the stars and hold them in their hands to see by. Larger than a man by four and half again. Five and half, and he was seven, walking through towns without coins covered in grime. Everynight we used to sleep below the stars. I never thought that this is how I would return to them. So much as I was then; dirty, pennyless, traveling without destination. Everything was fading in the grogg of sleep, the rhythm of the horse, the pace of the hooves. The plains were getting darker as my heavy eyes closed. Home seemed so far away, everything is so far. I just wanted to be home. The way Calkolh looked at me.... what did I do? I should have never found that thing.... Should have ran... Just like the villages and home, grabbing unchecked food with gruffy hands, running, always running. I found home, why couldn't I stay...home...everything looked so dark, why was it so....

The sky was purple and orange. The grass was rough and sharp, scraping against my feet, sparse on uneven silty soil. There was no sun in the dusk sky, but there was a mild ambiance of light permeating everywhere. Wait, standing... the horse where was the horse? Turning, all I saw was dusks, with thin golden grasses tall and brittle. Everything was swaying without wind. I patted myself; no cloak, no tunic, no shoes. My sling was gone, and my spear haft, my knife. Stepping back, I looked up again at the rich and deep orange-streaked purple sky. Dusk. Spinning in circles, the grass crackled beneath my feet at a rapid pace, my eyes roving as fast as they could turn on the land around me. Sleep, I was asleep, I was sleeping. The dim world felt so empty, so hollow. Everything was in dusk, stuck permanently in a lost decay. Evertime, I sleep and wake to this place. Looking up, there were no purple clouds in the skies. Skies. There are two. The first time I saw it. The first sky was the orange-purple, deep colors mixed and stirred with deep colored clouds, darker blues and blacks than could ever be seen in Onkira. But when my eyes gazed past it, the faint sky behind it came clear, a night blue that glowed behind the dusk. The longer I looked, the more shades I saw, layers upon layers of desolation and isolation. It was just another way to keep me from leaving, another way to remind me how I could never leave. Turning, I saw a barren silver tree, gnarled and twisted. The grasses swayed again, the not-wind pushing the grasses down and loose dirt into the air. I walked against the unseen, unfelt, and unheard wind to the tree, the stirred dirt making a thin film of dust above the ankle high grasses. Walking beneath the silver tree, it's branches stretched and twisted together, it' s bark dully reflecting the ambiance of light in the eternal dusk. There've never been leaves on the trees I've seen. Looking past the silver tree branches, I saw yet again the skies held no purple clouds. Sighing, I looked back down and leaned against the silver tree. Not one time since coming here was there not a purple cloud in the sky- so dark that they mixed with the dusk hues. Not once but this time. When the purple clouds came, the storms rolled within them, strikes flashing down to the earth as the power suffused the air. Black strikes, black bolts flashing into the earth below. When it was above, the power made me feel unstable, as me being me wasn' t sure any longer. The bolts would flash all around, and I would run deeper, letting the power and sound wash over, pull, tug, break.... and then the leaves above me would rustle in winds that would pass through my ears, and I could look on the brown bark behind me that reflected no light and know I was back. The first time was scary, feeling reality unravel within yourself always would be unless it' s your only way back to reality. I needed it, but now there was no way out. Needed to get out, I can' t stay here- where was I going? Never stayed here before, but don' t have a home. I had one, lost it. This world was just like the other- alone. Sliding down against the oddly soft trunk of the dull silver tree, I realized that I couldn' t stay here anyways. From what this place has done, it's not my body that' s transported here but something else. It' s felt in the air breathed, the ground walked...what in the stars is this place? But there are no stars here. Even now, looking up at all the skies I can see, there are no stars in any of them. Stars won't help here. Stars never help anywhere, they just keep you looking up at dreams so life can walk up to kill you. Letting out a sigh, I put my head into my hands. The storms can' t be the only way out, the storms won't come. It can ' t be the only way out, I've got to get back. I don' t want to die, I don' t want to die.

So I won' t die. I looked up again. This can't be the only way out. This isn' t the only way out. The cool air of the ever dusk world is oddly comforting against my bare skin. As I stood, I let my arms rest next to my body and looked at the horizon, staring until the skies meeting the horizon blurred and forced me to look away. Something about the mesh of thin skies forced something out within myself, something I couldn't understand. The grasses crunched softly and thinly and I moved my toes against the brittle, dead stalks. Flexing my fingers to know I could really feel, I walked around the tree to look at the place I've never wanted to notice. It all looks the same, the long stretches of sparse grasses on uneven dirt and... and a mountain? No, no it is just the earth jutting up in places, though in the distance it looked like mountains to me. And silver, rippling silver... water. That' s water. Turning, there was nothing else to see. Far spaced trees, jutting earth, golden grasses. Dim skies, dim lands, dim world. I started walking. The way the ghost wind pushed through the grasses pulled my mind from thinking as I walked, so that my thoughts swayed with only the grasses. Maybe I’ m just trying to avoid it. Maybe I'm just trying to avoid myself. It' ll never be enough. The way the dirt was shifting under my footsteps was beginning to irritate me when the dirt changed. Not soft and silt, but firm and one slab. I was about thirty paces from the water and all the earth around the pool was like this. With no grass, I couldn' t see any grass. Kneeling, I pressed my hand against it to feel it. pushing against it, my hand moved deeper in but stopped. The earth was supple here, resisting me. I walked the rest of the way to the pool, the water glistening silver unlike any water I' ve seen before. It almost looks safe, but caring is not for those without a choice. I needed water, I hadn' t had it in this place or the last. Hadn' t seen a stream in days. Falling to my knees, I cupped my hands to the water and gently put it to my lips. It was crisp, cool as it slid down the neck, so cool I shivered.

Leaning forward over the pool, I closed my eyes, pressing my lips to the cool water, breathing in, drawing the moisture down my throat. Hands flat against the earth as the cool washed through, chilling flesh and bone. It soothed and mellowed, pulling everything into a slow lull. Stopping to take it in, my eyes opened and saw large black feline eyes staring back at me, smooth and glossed. A sharp black face, haired and whiskered, feline features and eyes mirroring mine. Leaping back, falling on my butt and scrambling away, raising my hands to my face to feel, to know that I was still me. But it' s eyes, I saw them see me, I saw me see me- I don' t know what I saw. Eyes, the eyes looked back at me. It was the same face, the face I saw in front of mine when.. when I.. when the soul came into me. What is happening? Crawling on my hands and knees, inching my way to the pool surface, I looked again. The same reflection looks back, the dark eyes and feline face. The eyelids moved as mine. The Vovess tiled it's head to the side as I pondered, and when I felt the muscles on my face pull back to a smile, the muscles on the Vovess’s pulled into a snarl. Reflecting back to another, gray eyes and black. Staring at each other's version of themselves. The soul, the essence is in me. Is that what this is? A place for souls, for dead? Need to get out of here, as fast as I can. Leaving was unknown though, there were no purple clouds, no other way. Where to go?

As there were no landmarks beyond this pool, staying here seems like a good choice. And there doesn't seem to be many other choices. The dead ground around the pool gave slight give walking past it to the brittle grasses. Moving slowly to the silver tree, watching how it seemed luminescent in the dusk world. Sliding down the tree feels odd against the bare skin, the gnarled bark still soft and smooth, pulling against my skin as I slide down. Leaning back on the tree trunk, looking up at the low, spiraling silver branches, stares through the skies almost as easy as I could pierce my mind. Though there were many, I know the skies here move. Eventually a way out would come, and when it arrived I would leave this place, this world. I shifted, feeling the dry grass crackle beneath my weight. It felt as if my body was slowly sinking into the grass, the earth, the tree. As if the world is absorbing all the things in it, pulling into itself the things it could take away from the real world. Sit here until something comes by, until this changes. Just have to stay awake. And go back...Calkolh, no no, not to him.... where am....

The grass crackled as the footsteps trod over them. They grow closer as the darkness opens up to the dusk world. Alert, my hunting years come in as I slide up against the tree, slowly and calmly keeping the flat of my back against the bark. The feeling of my skin rubbing against the silver tree woke me up, pulling at my skin as well as my mind. The strangeness of the world waking me, alert to the sense of there being more than one single pair of footsteps. Staying low, keeping knees bent to avoid the silver branches and slowly turning against the trunk, peeking around the side as the footsteps slow. They stopped behind another silver tree forty feet away. There was a soft and rough sound coming from both, as if going back and fro. A language? They grass softly crackles as I shift my weight to see more. Seeing only one leg, leather bottoms it looks like, with a wrap in replacement for boots or shoes. And a stick, a staff? Tall and stuck into the ground, deep enough that a solid foot appeared to be stuck into the ground. The words were soft in my brain as they talked, and I wait tensely, staring through the dusk and waiting for something to happen. My feet are slowly sinking into the ground as I wait, not sure what to do as the tree makes my back numb against the trunk as I hear them shift and move. Silence carries over the distance with their faint murmurings, and the ghost winds pull through the grasses and over the earth, silent still. Starting to move beyond the trunk, but the murmurs quieted as I moved and slowly I move back. Standing, waiting, for anything to happen, to change.

And suddenly there is light. It flares and pushes back the weak and pale dusk shadows, and the grasses come out more bronze and the silver trees grow a sheen. For the first time, I realize that there is a dusk shadow- the dim world never seemed dim because that is all there is. Until now. There seems to be some scuffle when the light flares into life, and the voices rise for a few seconds until they fall back down again. The stick is grabbed and pulled out of the earth and the two start walking. The first one, the one whose leg I saw earlier had no tunic or shirt, but in the strange light I could tell the leather was fine and the wraps were just his way of settling. He has an odd grayish skin tone, but with pure white eyes. The top of the staff is tapered to a point, on his hip he has a broad, curved sword. He has on a cloak the moves slightly in the wind made of the same dak brown leather as his bottoms. Something gleamed as he slips it into one of his pants pockets, gleams bright red, and for that second of all I could see it seems like a jewel. The next grey man also carries a staff, but on his end is the pale, twisted white flame that is sustaining the light he brought to the dusk plane. He is taller than tall, and walks with more confidence as if the dried grasses beneath him are meant to be subject to his feet. Unlike the companion in front of him, he's always looking around as if there's something to see. He's fully clothed in leather, but without the cloak and with boots. Moving with them, seeing how they walk and move is dangerous. The man looks like he has nothing else on him but his staff and a chain on his hip. Both grey men move quickly, and are at a height that looking up would be required to meet them to the eye. Moving slowly through the grass, sliding my feet through the grasses more than lifting them to make less sound. Shifting tree to tree, everytime back against the trunk and keeping low. The light makes them easy to mark, walking behind them not beside them to be left in the shadows they leave behind. They walk further in the direction of the pool, continuously talking in that soft murmur of a language. Never stopped moving, passing through the shadows and pausing at every tree to stay close to them while trying to stay unnoticed. They seem to know where they're going, and they are the only others I've seen since my first arrival here. Pushing through the grasses and shadows to follow at their backs. The sound goes from the crackle of grass to the soft thud of the grey men walking on the soft bald earth surrounding the silver pool. Keeping on the last tree, I stayed back to watch them. The white fire continued to flicker violently, flaring over the landscape. Watching, my eyes flicked to the side of them briefly, to a piece of earth that juts from the flatland, half as tall as I am but within the smooth circle around the silver pool. And closer to the graymen. Shuffling through the grasses, and keeping low, moving slowly towards the rock. Making movements small but smooth so as to avoid making too much sound. The voices continued to carry over from across the way, the first grey man leaning over the pool with his cloak behind his back, looking as if to gather water. The other man was standing, looking round as if something was missing. I moved quietly within the stealth of their conversation, hoping to avoid notice. As I reached the rock, I noticed for the first time how the grass clustered around it, and my feet shuffled through with more crackling than their voices. Only a little. Too much. Their conversation slows but I stop watching as I turn and back up against the rock to stay out of view. I try to keep my breaths low and steady as I hear them stop talking. Now short words, rapid and exchanged quickly but with still a tone of curiosity and not alertness, I here one stand, his feet softly walking over the earth, coming closer.

A flash. For the first time I hear their voices loud, a clash and a loud thud. The flare gets brighter, and the light grows. I turned against the rock looking to see what I could see. A hand clamps over my mouth, another pushes against my throat. The hands are large and strong, like fleshed rocks. Tense, I try and look over my shoulder but whoevers hand is clamped against me pulls my head back.

"Shutup and listen. You wouldn't stand against them so don't try." I feel her shift. Her, a female voice. "If you want to live, pay attention. Focus on me, stranger." She takes her hand off my throat, sliding her finger along my spine. She laughs as I shiver. "Do you understand?"

Nodding slowly, she takes her hand from my mouth.Turning slowly, I watch her back up when I see her. She has the longest black hair I have seen, braided three times over but still reaching her waist. It shines. She seems tall for a girl, with a pale face barely a hand below mine. Her pale skin accents a small nose and ears, and dark green eyes. She's lean, I can tell because she has a tied gray tunic on, thick and supple. She has on brown leather bottoms with black boots. She's pretty.

The two twisted brown swords on her hips aren't however. She laughs when my eyes meet them. "You've enjoyed your eyes long enough, yes?" I feel my face heating up. She laughs again, "It's ok, but won't be if we waste anymore time. Let's go." She starts to walk but doubt keeps me. I don't know her, or her motive. I don't even know where I am. And she comes to save me?

She turns and looks back as a larger white flash sounds, with a louder shout. Another clash is heard. A thud. "Unless you want to die?" Her question is added to as her hands drop to the hilts of her blades and her eyes remain cool. Another flare flickers the shadows against the frass.

"No. No, I'm fine, lets go." We run around the rock and slink through the trees around the pool. I turn my head to look at the fight at the pool. It's almost beyond my eyes.

The greyman without the cloak is wielding the fire on his staff almost as if it's something living. It licks out like a tail, a tongue, burning and blinding the three men in front of him. It shields the cloaked one as he whirls between the people like a wraith, stabbing with the end and wacking with the staff itself. He avoids the blades as if he's a breeze, and whenever one comes close to him from behind, white flame would lick out to try and singe the poor fool's face. It had to work once, there was a body on the ground with a disfigured face, and it wasn't moving. And then one man slipped past the cloaked one and rushed and the fireman. And the greyman simply stuck out his staff and fire sprang forth in a flash, almost like a cloud. It was almost blinding, my eyes narrow as I lean back and shield my face, stepping back against the earth as the flames ate the air. Someone grabs my arm.

"Move! Move you fool!", she hisses. My feet pick up again, moving without ever realizing they had stopped. Fooling her but always looking back before we turn the bend over the pool and run openly, no longer caring who hears. The image of the air being eaten eternally seared into my mind.

We were running until we could run anymore. Or at least until she felt like stopping; I knew I couldn't run anymore. Walking across the plains in silence until I could see where she was leading, a piece of earth that jutted out of the horizon, four again the size of the rock that I hid behind. She is twenty or so aces ahead, as it had been when we started walking. Now that there was a mark, I could trust more of myself and less of her. Beyond that, I needed to know more. I moved faster to catch up to her, and she spared me a glance before looking ahead again. I waited in silence for her to speak first. I'm still waiting. She's saying nothing, and I've been waiting for too long.

"Who are you?" I avoid looking at her, it seems uncomfortable. I still see her smile out the corner of my eye as we walk. She won.

"Lysiria." She doesn't turn to me either. She has her right hand on her blade hilt. I don't need that; I'm not a fool. "Who are you, stranger?"

"I'm not stranger." The grasses are taller her, and there are more trees. Seems to be five around the rock we're walking to. The grasses hit against the others around them as we walk, which is the only noise the ghost wind leaves behind. "Kuxalo. I'm Kuxalo."

She looks at me for the first time since the pool, eyes to the side. I turn my head fully to meet hers, forcing her to do the same. "That's a quite the forgein name." She kicks the stalks without looking at them, the knee high grasses cracking and splitting. "Where are you from?"

"Kara. East by the sea." She looks at me as if trying to look through. She snaps her head away, as if she found nothing or something but was what she expected anyway.

"Hmmmm, that's not a Karan name, nor is your brown skin." She looks at me again and turns away as quickly. I stare at her for a while before looking at the horizon, staring through the skies. We walking past a tree, and I stick out my hand to push against it, feeling the bark. She can see it, I know. See that that I ve always known that I've been a forgien. And that now I can't even pretend that I'm not. We walk in silence. She breaks it. "You move like a commoner, but you talk like you've had education. not the best, or good, but at the least some."

"I worked in the lumber mill. Cut trees and logs, ", flexing my hand, remembering the way the saw felt in it. The way the wood felt. Home. "Sometimes you'd see a day like this, if I stayed late enough. Walk out through the trees to see this when you got to the mill. Stand there a while and look." I blinked, then looked down, pulling my eyes out of the skies to return back to the ground. "But I was the lacky boy, and I ran most of the errands for the guild. Or town gets- got lots of trade, so i spent most of my time with merchants. They talk properly. Made me talk proper to talk with 'em." My hand clenched in anger. "As if who I was wasn't enough for 'em. When I get anger - angry, I mean angry- it comes back again." My fingers slowly uncurl as I think about it more. It all seems so sad now, so silly. Lysiria looks again. I look back and see something looking back at me. Sadness? Sympathy? I don't care, looking away so I don't have to take her pity.

She shakes her head. and walks around another treem putting it between us. They're everywhere now, spaced out between fifty or twice as many paces. "So how does a lumber boy-", She stops as I turn to her. "What?"

"Boy?" I throw my hand in her direction. "You looks to be the same age as me, old lady."

She smiles. "You've been here, yet still believe looks are everything?" I feel my eyes narrow. "So how ol-"

"So how, " She flicks her sword hilt as she cuts me off, "did a lumber boy who runs errands in a prosperous city come to get here?"

"The skies is prosperous?" She looks back over her shoulder to the far horizon, then turns forward again and continues to rap against the sword hilt. "Well off," she says without care. "Oh. Yes, well, I was on a hunt one night." Her eyebrow rose. "Don't ask why night, it was night and that's it." She looks forward again. "I was hunting and came across this bear being killed by a... a..." Not even sure if she'll believe me, I say it again. It's all fable but I'm in a world with at least nine skies. Who gives a mule's ass? "A Vovess.''She says nothing, but keeps walking. I continue, and explain it all. She reacts mildly every time, strangely smiling when I tell how the Vovess knocked me off the ledge. Nodding as I tell how I killed it, truely how it died. I never killed the thing. As I reached the moment when I absorbed it's soul, it went cold in the face but never stopped walking. I am more than happy she hasn't tried to kill me. I finish by telling her that ever since that night I end here, and wait for the storms to come.

"You should count yourself fortunate that you're not dead when the storms come. Death hides in those clouds as well as lightning. I'm not sure how that beast correlates to you being here, but if you want to leave then this could be helped."

"Don't you want to leave? Isn't that what the purpose is?"

She doesn't look at me. "No."

We keep walking and she starts to take us around the rock. "Wait, how did you get here?" She looks at me with caution. Her eyes shift to the ground as she opens her more to speak, uncertain.

"Hold!" I look above to see a cloaked man crouched on the rock, with a nocked bow drawn and pointed at me. I hadn't noticed him there, just as I hadn't noticed Lysiria walk behind me. These people are good. "Who've you brought?"

"A foreigner, Karan. He was about to kill himself following greymen." I opened my mouth to tell him otherwise, but she looks at me with hostility I didn't know could fit in those green eyes, and for some reason I'm thinking it's better to simply stay quiet. The archer didn't seem to care. "Surprised the fools still alive." He stared at me longer before he eases up on the bow, letting it drop. "Go on. Your taking time standing."

Lysiria ignored that and continued on through the dark passage. In fact, it was completely pitch black, and I followed by keeping my hands on the rough walls and listening to her footsteps. As I followed I felt us going down, deeper into the earth. The air gets cooler as we descend deeper. The floor levels off, and ahead there is a glow. We walked into a large round room, with a fire on both the left and right sides. There are people everywhere, but as soon as I walk in they stop talking amongst themselves and all murmur together, looking at one. Lysiria is behind me now, but I didn't even notice. The space in front of me looks like a path, a space the people cleared, leading straight to shadows.

"He looks like-" Lysiria's head whips to the crowd and whoever skope goes quiet. My head whips too late, and before I can open my mouth Lysiria gives me the same look as well. I go silent, just as the rest of people have now. Lysiria murmurs something that passes by me, but I know I should've heard. Turning to look at both the crowds faces and Lysiria's, I realize that I really don't want to be here.

And out of the shadows walks an old man, small and wrinkled. His tan complexion is over a round face and taught body, with white marks on his face that cannot cover scars. Black eyes, and oddly dark black hair. How a man his age has hair that healthy, I don't understand. He walks up to me, peering the entire time. I feel that if I listen closely, I could hear his breathing. It may just be my mind- he isn't stopping. And his hand places itself on my forehead, and everything goes but him. No crowd, no room, just him. And the darkness behind him..

Black. Everything is black. Nothing...

---

The ground is so soft. Stretching, feeling my muscles pull into comfort. THe grass is soft too, and the sun is bright enough to hurt my eyes... The Sun. Shooting up, I stand and turnin place, staring. The grases are grren, and the tree that I was leaning against is brown. I touch the bark. Not smooth, and as I rub it the weaker parts flake off into my hand. I rub the flakes off my hand as I look up at the sky. One sky, one blessed sky. I move to come out under the tree to see it better, and I step upon a bag. My bag. I turn around. My spear haft is on the ground, next to the tree I slept under. I touch my shirt just to know that it is there. And the horse, where is...

I've spun three times now. It is not on the horizon, not in any sight that I can see with my eyes. No horse. I pick up my pack and sling it over one shoulder, grabbing my haft after putting my knife through a strap. Without a horse it will take at least three times as long to get to anywhere. And to get out of Kara I have a long way to go. "Damn." Hitching myself up, I looked to the far horizon, and looked at the sun to find north. Turning, I started my walk of ages across the plains.