Childhood 1 – Hide and Seek
.
Verna made herself as small as possible at the top of the rotted tree, her fur cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders. She dared not move a muscle or draw breath, or even blink. Her pursuer was upon her. She could hear the metal boots crushing sticks below, stomping carelessly across the flooded woods in their merciless hunt. They halted directly below, and the spiked helmet creaked as it scanned the misty swamps of Farron, searching for her.
Despite the child's fear, she was not panicked. She had been in this situation before, many times. She knew just what to do. The knight was a formidable monster, able to bleed a man to death in minutes, but he was of simple mind. Once given a task, he would not rest until it was complete, giving no thought to anything more. He was a brainless brute with no defense against the simplest of wits.
The warrior would not look up, not unless she alerted him. Ever so carefully, the red-haired girl slid a delicate hand into her pouches full of trinkets, and produced a small prism stone. She gripped the shining yellow orb in her palm, then drew back and threw.
The stone sailed silently between the branches and landed in the waters with a loud plop. The thorned knight immediately moved to investigate the noise. Verna waited until he had walked further into the swamp, then hastily slid down the tree. She dropped to the ground, her bare feet making not a sound, and turned once more to make sure her pursuer was distracted.
The child froze as she stared right into his porous iron mask. He was learning.
The time for games was past. Verna sprinted into the poisonous waters, wincing as it seeped into her legs, tainting her blood. The mire would not harm her immediately, but she could not stand in it for long without risking death. She raced towards the closest island, weaving through the swamp to avoid the sinkholes, and reached into her pockets in preparation.
Suddenly, the waters surged. She nearly slipped into the poison as she skidded to a halt, eyes wide in terror at the cluster of giant worms that reared their slimy heads. She had run straight into a nest of slugs.
The closest one opened its mandibles and shot a stream of venomous bile, which the girl barely avoided. Another lunged towards her, almost knocking her back into the poisonous swamp. She could feel the toxins burning her legs, and with a cry, she charged straight through the worms in a desperate escape. Their blubbery bodies bumped against her, their mandibles snapped at her thighs, then she dove towards dry land.
Verna fell short of her mark, landing with a splash against the shoreline. She quickly crawled onto the island, but that brief second made all the difference. The poison was flooding her veins, eating at her insides. She frantically pulled a fistful of purple moss from her pocket, but heart immediately sank — the moss was ruined, soaked in swamp water.
A retching noise came from behind, and she rolled sideways as poison bile struck the dirt. The slugs were closing in, not caring whether she was poisoned or not. As they slithered closer, the girl looked past them, to the faceless knight wading through the swamp, barbed blade in hand.
Ignoring the lump in her stomach, the girl leapt from the ground and ran. She sprinted lightly through the hindering mire, ignoring its poisonous effects as they had already taken hold. She was racing against time itself now, her blood becoming thicker than the sludge she waded through. She had mere minutes before her heart would stop completely.
She ran blindly through the woods, unable to keep track of her heading, until she came across a miraculous discovery. As if by divine intervention, Verna beheld a ruin rising from the flooded forest, perched high atop a rocky hill. More importantly, she could see purple moss growing up the sides of the worn stone walls. All she had to do was get there.
The girl leapt onto a small boulder to begin her ascent, though her limbs felt like silk. Her hands could not grip the rocks, and her slick bare feet offered no support. She got halfway up the hill before she lost her footing, and nearly toppled back into the poisoned swamp. She swung from the rocky surface by one hand wrapped painfully around a jagged protrusion.
"No," Verna whispered to herself. "I won't go back." The girl jammed her foot between the stones, tearing her big toenail with the force. "I'll never go back there." She ignored the stinging pain and kept climbing, toes and fingers openly bleeding.
She finally collapsed at the top drawing ragged breath, barely conscious. The moss was just a few feet away, but her body would not respond. Her arms and legs were numb. It was all she could do to roll sideways, inch by inch, until her face rested against the soft vegetation. The young girl tore into the moss with her teeth and chewed, ignoring its vile taste. As she swallowed the bitter juices, she could feel the poison slowly fade. She closed her eyes in relief, realizing she would not die, at least not yet.
The purple moss could cure her poison, but not her fatigue. As Verna tore off another piece, she could not stay awake any longer, and succumbed to sleep.
.
.
Her eyes flew open with a start. She remained still, remembering where she was, and listened carefully for whatever had woken her. Soon, she heard the sound of clamping feet and snorting breath, just on the other side of the stone wall. Carefully, she slid against the crumbling ruins for cover, then gave a silent prayer to the Gods to protect her from the demonic creature.
It was getting closer, towards a section of the wall that had fallen away. Verna stared at the opening, realizing in terror that the snorts were not its breath. It was sniffing, hunting for her.
The beast appeared through the hole in the wall, its back to her. It crawled on all fours, and though its front hands appeared human, its hind legs were hairy and hooved. Its thick mane dragged across the floor as it sought the delicious scent, then slowly turned to face the little girl. She could not move at the sight of its twisting horns and eyeless gaze. She had come so far, only to become this abomination's next meal.
Suddenly, the monster spun in surprise and shrieked at some unseen foe. It rushed back down the hallway, which soon erupted with the sound of battle. Its opponent made no sound besides the clash of steel, and Verna knew whom it must be. She may have rested, but her pursuer had not.
As the demonic beast screamed in its death throes, she leapt to her feet. She had been spared from a torturous death, but she refused to submit to a torturous life. She would not stop, not now, not ever. She would keep running no matter how long it took, even if she had to run to the ends of the world. She would escape.
The girl turned to flee, and her foot broke through the hilltop. Verna abruptly dropped through the ground with a startled cry. She tumbled into a cavern, where she landed hard on the rocky floor, tears welling to her green eyes. Her ankle was sprained, blood swelling quickly into the socket. She tried to stand, but even the slightest pressure dropped her to the ground. Her determination faded into hopelessness, and she could barely contain her sobs.
As she cradled her sprained leg in the dirt, a single noise broke through her misery. She jumped and blinked through her tears as a different creature emerged in the cave's entrance. The four-legged lizard chirped, such an unthreatening sound, but it sent a chill through her bones. She knew what this creature was. It was a basilisk.
As it approached, two more of the bulb-headed reptiles stepped into the entrance, and Verna finally succumbed to despair. She had no defense against these beasts, no special plant that would counteract their deadly disease. A single breath from the basilisk would curse her, turning her permanently to stone. Against three of them, cornered, it was hopeless. The child closed her eyes and miserably accepted her fate. At least being a statue was not the worst way to die.
She could hear the basilisk's throat swell with gas, preparing to douse her in its petrifying spittle, when a loud splash echoed from the entrance. The basilisk shrieked and scampered away as the din of battle erupted. The sounds of screaming and tearing flesh filled her ears, and Verna dared to open one eye.
The warrior thrust his barbed blade into the last creature's spine. It squawked as it collapsed in the shallow pool, dead. The knight put a foot on the lizard's head and tore the lacerating edge free, causing blood and meat to fling from the wound, then straightened as clouds of spittle settled atop the waters behind him. With a creak, his armored visage turned towards Verna.
She could not run. The girl shook her head uselessly as the knight of thorns approached, his stiff gait splashing through the poisonous sludge without care. His shadow fell over her, and she could feel him glaring behind his solid, iron-wrought helm.
"No," she pleaded in a whisper. "I beg of you, don't take me back. I can't... I can't go back..."
At first, there was no response, and the knight of thorns remained silent. Then, a heavy creak broke the spell as he knelt beside the cowering child, wrapping his spiked gauntlets beneath her. Gently, so as not to wound her, he took the girl into his arms, holding her close against his cold chestplate. He turned from the cave and strode dutifully through the deadly water, stepping over the gory bodies of the basilisks. Verna rested her head against the unyielding armor, tears streaking her dirty face as the world faded from sight.
"Please, Kirk... I don't wanna go home..."