Wilds

I had never really given much thought about my life up until now. I guess being at home safely snuggled under some nice furs did more than just keep me warm through the cold winter days. I went through roughly the same routine each day: wake up, eat, and then head out to the yard to practise my archery skills. Sometimes I would hunt through the thickets of the forest near my home with my Mabari, Franklin. At first, my mother hated him, but eventually she grew to accept that he and I were a kind of 'package deal,' as they say. My father did not care much for him, either, and no amount of puppy dog eyes from the two of us could change that. 'He is yours and yours alone. If he gets in my way, I'll make sure that he never does so again. Is that clear?' were the first things he said to me when I brought Franklin home. I'm pretty sure the poor dog thought he'd done something wrong.

But there I was, wet and in the cold, hidden high up in one of the many trees of the Korcari Wilds. Franklin was circling the base while I tried in vain to get some decent rest. I just hoped the Templars would not find me hiding here. The wind blew right through my clothing, causing me to shiver so violently that my teeth were clacking together. If the Templars did not get me, the cold certainly would. I stared down at my fingertips, wishing I knew how to bring flame to them like I had today.

I didn't even mean to do it, it just happened. My father watched as I lined up my shot on the practice dummy. I inhaled as I drew back the string and took a small step forward, ready to release the arrow. As I let it slip between my fingers, a small spark of flame ignited the arrow as it went past. Both my father and I watched in silence as the dummy was set ablaze. My mother ran out from the house, uncertain of what had happened. I looked from my father, to her, and back again, waiting for a response from one of them. It was my father who spoke first.

'Go get the Templars, quick! Tell them we have a mage!' he shouted at her. His voice shook with rage.

I stared at my mother with pleading eyes, but she turned away and ran back into the house. My father charged at me, and in that instant, I knew that he intended to use some of the skills he acquired as a Templar. I snatched up my bow and a quiver of arrows before running inside to get whatever valuables I could find, knowing that I'd never be able to come home now.

'Don't resist me, boy!' I heard my father shouting. 'It will be the tower for you, where you can harm nobody but your own kind!'

My father had his hunting kit at the door of his room, packed and ready to go. I searched frantically for the lockbox where my parents kept a large supply of sovereigns and shoved that into the bag too. I looked around quickly for anything else, and I spotted the only other thing of value in the room: my mother's dowry gift. It was a mirror of polished glass in a gold frame, with golden deer and sparrows prancing about in a charming scene on the back.

I put the mirror inside the kit and slung it over my back. I started toward the door when my father kicked it open, roaring when he noticed that the mirror had been taken from the bedside table. He charged at me with fists swinging, but thankfully my agility allowed me to quickly step under his hefty blows. I dashed out of the door and made a beeline for the exit out the back.

I whistled for Franklin, and I ran.

I'd been running for what felt like the better part of the day. I looked up through the canopy of trees and noticed that the sky was now tinged with the orange of a setting sun. I was tempted to stop and rest for a few minutes, but Franklin seemed eager to keep moving. He'd gotten me out of a few tight spots before, so I saw no reason not to trust his instincts again. We pushed onward but I had to stop soon. All the running had left me feeling mentally and physically exhausted.

Franklin whined at me when I stopped next. He still felt as though we should keep moving but it was quite obvious that I needed a break. I found a tree with long, thick branches that could easily support my weight and climbed it. I had a good view of the surrounding area, and the leaves provided enough cover to conceal me from all but the keenest of observers. Franklin barked, accepting my position. I rummaged through my father's hunting kit and found some dried meats, tossing a couple of pieces down to my faithful guardian, who caught them all with one deft leap and a snap of his teeth.

I leaned back into the tree, making myself comfortable – as comfortable as one can be up in a tree. Franklin was standing resolutely at the foot of the tree, baring his teeth as a warning to any that would dare approach. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

I could not be certain about how long I had been out for, but it didn't feel like much. I was alerted to the presence of another by way of Franklin's deep growl. The fact that he was not attacking them gave me reason to believe that it was not the Templars who were after me. I watched carefully, keeping one hand on my bow and another on an arrow, just to be safe.

The sharp voice of a woman rang out through the trees, immediately piquing my interest. "Stop growling at me, mongrel. I have nothing you want!" she snapped.

I leaned forward to get a better view of the woman, causing me to lose my hold on the branch. I was able to orient myself just in time to land on my feet, which I am certain drew a quick smile of admiration from my onlooker. She watched me curiously, as if she were sizing me up for something.

Truth be told, I had never seen such a beautiful woman as she in all of my life. Her long black hair was tied up in a messy bun, with a few loose strands framing her face. Her amber eyes were probing me, as if she were trying to glean the thoughts right from my head.

"Who… are you?" she asked.

I was hesitant to speak truthfully, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Fox."

She took a step toward me, still staring at me intently as though she had never seen a person before. "I wonder…"

Before either of us could speak again, we heard shouts off in the distance. Our looks suggested that we had a common enemy in the Templars. She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the trees, moving through them with the speed and grace one gets from many years of practice. We ran for what seemed like an hour, not once stopping to catch our breath.

I was just about ready to give up when the trees thinned out, revealing a small clearing with a tiny shack to the side. Remnants of an ancient city dotted the horizon, with only a very small amount peering over the top of the forest. Running by the left side of the shack was a small creek that connected with a much larger one. I found myself wondering if many people had found this place, or whether it was well hidden.

"Hello, Mother," said the dark-haired woman, who was still gripping my hand tightly.

There was an old woman hanging something out by the side of the shack. She did not even acknowledge the presence of us, merely continuing to hang what looked to be her smallclothes (though they looked anything but small to me). As if sensing what I had thought, the old woman turned around and laughed.

"Well well… What have we here? A new friend, Morrigan?"

Morrigan sighed apathetically. "No mother, I found him out in the wilds, hiding up a tree."

"Oh, how delightful!" she cackled. "And what may we call you, hmm?"

"I am Fox," I replied instantly. "Who are you, may I ask?"

She smiled at me. "Flemeth."

Flemeth sent Morrigan inside to prepare a meal for the three of us. Normally, I would have declined a meal from a complete stranger, but I had no-where to go and running from the Templars had used up a lot of my energy.

I relayed the story of how I ended up in the tree, surprising myself at how level-headed I was being with the whole situation. Morrigan regarded me with apprehension, remaining silent through the whole meal. Flemeth seemed delighted by my company, and she even took a liking to Franklin, throwing him a few scraps of food.

"I shall have Morrigan teach you better control of your power. You will need it in the coming days…"

I watched Flemeth as she trailed off, and the inkling that she was not entirely sane grew a tiny bit larger when she began to laugh at her stew.

Morrigan exhaled loudly and stormed off out the door. Flemeth indicated for me to follow, and I eagerly leapt up to avoid any more awkward conversation.

I had no idea what Morrigan thought of me. My question was answered though, as soon as I stepped out the door to find a sharp knife hurtling toward my face. Instinctively, I stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp end of the blade.

Morrigan walked over and yanked the knife from the door. "Your reflexes are unnatural. How long has this been so?"

I had no idea. Thinking back, I'd never really noticed my skills exceeding that of others, but then again… I'd never really had the chance to train with anyone else. My brothers had joined the Templar Order many years ago, when I was still too young to use any weapon with any modicum of technique. I shook my head, unable to answer properly. "I don't know, sorry. For as long as I can remember I guess."

Again, Morrigan studied me with her round amber eyes. She resembled a cat looking at a fluffy new chew toy. I regretted thinking of that as soon as it came to me. Suddenly, I was very uncomfortable with her watching me so intently.

A minute or so passed awkwardly before she spoke again. Morrigan took me to the hill just behind the shack where she cast a fire spell that sent a short burst of flame rolling along the ground.

I waited for her to speak, before I realised that she wanted me to imitate her spell. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

I was flushed with embarrassment at the look of scorn on her face. I half expected a slap from her. "Magic, like talking and reading is about visualising and forming what you need. To create fire, you first need to see fire. You need to feel fire. Only then will you have it."

I watched Morrigan perform the fire spell several more times, but I just could not grasp what I needed to do. I was more than a little afraid of the magic, having been brought up in a strictly anti-mage family. Every male member of my family – my father, his father, and even his grandfather – had all been Templars, each of them raising a strong family of mage-hating men.

Still, I could not perform the spell, much to the ire of Morrigan who threw her hands up in defeat. I was left standing outside looking down at my hands and wondering if there truly was any magic to begin with. Alone, I found myself thinking of my family that I would never be able to see again. I had nowhere to go.

I looked to the shack and to the thick forest beyond it. Franklin sat at my heel and whined softly, nuzzling his head against my calf. I lowered myself down to his level and gave him a good scratch behind his ears. "You'll never leave me, will you boy?"

Franklin barked happily and licked my face.

I decided I'd give the magic a few more tries before I went back inside. I tried doing as Morrigan said: seeing the fire. Feeling it in my hands. But nothing came.

"Come on Franklin. There's always tomorrow."