A quite whimper escaped the small child's lips, wrapping his thin arms around himself in protection. The dark trees seemed to enclose on the boy, the gnarly branches reaching out to tug on his mud-encrusted clothes. The forest was unearthly silent; not a breath of wind rustled the shriveled, brown leaves. The boy's heart rose to his threat, his amber eyes flicking about. This place was nothing like the green fields he knew, or the welcoming green trees he had entered. He did not know how he found his way to this scary place. He wanted to leave, run away from this dreadful forest. But the child could not find his way out of it.

Tears trickled down the child's round cheeks as he paused to look around. Everything looked the same, but yet strikingly unfamiliar. The boy stifled a sniffle, trying not to cry out. He did not want to be caught by some monster that possibly lived in this place. It was the only explanation as to why there was nothing but dead trees in this forest, and why when the boy looked up he saw no light filtering through the crumpled leaves above him. Shadows enshrouded the area, yet a small circle around the boy was lighted up so he could see the twisted roots and loose stones in his path. He could not find the source of this light, but accepted its presence. He did not want to be alone in the dark.

Wiping a tear streaked face with the sleeve of his soiled shirt, the child continued to walk deeper into the forest. He was tired and scared, wanting to go home, or even see the soft rays of the sun. Yet the forest was unwilling to give him up just yet, and so the trees became denser, the roots even more gnarly than the last. Even with the light the child stumbled and fell, his clothes gathering more dirt. Branches lashed out to gather a sample of his clothing, tearing and ripping pieces off as he scurried in haste out of their grasps. The child's tears became a constant stream, and his sniffling was far from being stifled.

He eventually gave up walking and curled up in a gap between the roots, tucking his knees to his chest. The child was losing hope of ever finding his way out of this forest, fearing that he will be stuck in here forever, and no one would know. The small circle of light around him slowly faded and shrank as the boy fell into despair. Before it could fade away into darkness completely, a voice spoke out from the darkness.

"Pauperpuer, quomodo vos adeptoin huncsilvarum?"

The sound of rumbling wheels and the rocking of the wagon on uneven ground greeted Feliciano as he stirred out of his sleep. There was a soft warmth seeping through the roughly made blanket he had draped over himself, a familiar warmth of late morning rays. Feliciano opened his amber eyes, blinking as he took in the sun's brilliant light.

"You finally awake?"

The amber eyes turned to look at the speaker. A pair of bright blue eyes stared right back at him. Ludwig was his childhood friend, a muscular, fair skinned man from a clan up in the northern most part of the uncivilized lands, or as the kingdoms called it "The Barbarian Lands". Very little land had been conquered by the kingdoms bordering the farthest most south of said Barbaric Lands, and whatever was taken, the tribes would draw out their forces and send the knights racing back to their castles. Yet Ludwig said little about his memories of the northern world, despite Feliciano's attempts to tell him. He bore the marks of his tribe on his back- a black eagle with its wings outstretched. The artistic detail fascinated the other, but Ludwig just grumbled and hid it under his tunic.

"Sì, I am. I must've slept in again." Feliciano giggled as he sat up, the blanket falling from his back onto the floor of the wagon. He was thinner than his well built friend, and shorter too when they stood side by side. His mud brown hair only made Ludwig's bright blonde locks glow like a beacon, but at least Feliciano had a curl that the other man lacked. His olive colored skin was his own beacon, clashing largely against the taller friend's pale flesh. It was obvious that these two were from complete opposite sides of the Known Realm- Ludwig being a Barbaric, and Feliciano showing clear characteristics of a person from Convolvulus, a coastal kingdom in the far southern peninsula of the Realm.

A small loaf of bread was pushed into Feliciano's hands, the blonde sighing. "You missed breakfast again."

"Sorry!" the Convolvuan chirped, sinking his teeth into the loaf as Ludwig leaned back against the side of the wagon, crossing his arms over his chest and glanced out at the road. The tall grasses waved as the wagons rolled passed, flowers fluttering their petals in a silence dance. Soon the grass would fade into fields of grain and corn before being replaced by buildings, the dirt road melting into cobblestones. Then, the pair would leave this troupe and try to find work.

"I like it here," Feliciano murmured, lowering his half eaten bread down into his lap, a sadden look crossing his face. He liked this group that they had stumbled upon. He and Ludwig had been traveling for awhile now, trying to find some work. Yet finding work for strapping men like Ludwig and a simpler, dignified work for Feliciano in the same place was hard to accomplish. They were young men, well enough to be enrolled as a soldier for one of the kingdoms, but that idea had never been on the list for either of them. Ludwig disliked authority and Feliciano's soft hands were more for gripping a quill or a brush, not the hilt of a sword or dagger. So they had wandered, searching, until they came upon this troupe of cheerful and welcoming actors and performers, beckoning them to ride with them to the west to seek a better beginning.

The Barbarian reached over, patting his smaller companion on the shoulder. "We have stayed for almost a month now. We don't want to overstay our welcome."

The Convolvuan bobbed his head in silent agreement before lifting the bread back to his lips. The two fell silent; the only noises were of the rumbling of wheels and hooves and the boisterous singing from the wagon ahead of them. Ludwig was quietly grateful that they had been stuck in the wagon with the supplies. He didn't think he could tolerate sitting in the same wagon with some of the troupe.

Gazing back at his friend, Ludwig found the Convolvuan crumbling a bit of his bread onto the wagon floor beside him. There was a small smile on his face as he murmured something under his breath, watching the pile of crumbs. The Barbarian couldn't see anything, but he knew that it was probably a Sprite of some sort. Feliciano glanced up at him and smiled. "It's a cute little mouse-creature," he answered his friend's unspoken question. He didn't know all of these creatures' names- some he did, but sighting those was far between. Ludwig could see some of the creatures, mostly those from his homeland up north, but those were few around the warmer climates as well. The Barbarian was the only person Feliciano knew that could even see some of the creatures that he saw. Not even his grandfather or brother saw what he did, which secluded him from his family.

Feliciano shook the thought of his family from his head and rose up to his feet only to clamber over the crates and bags to get to the driver of the wagon- an older man with more hair coming from his nose and ears than what sprouted from his head. "Gregooooryyy~" he said in a sing-song voice, his legs kicking slightly as they dangled over the edge of the crate. "Are we almost to a city yet?"

Old man Gregory laughed, or rather, a wheezing cough with a wide smile. "Ah, indeed we are," he said, raising a hand from the reins to point at a series of towers that could be spotted in the distance down the road. "That is the City of Roses. We'll reach there by sundown."

Translation:

Latin: Pauper puer, quomodo vos adepto in hunc silvarum?- Poor child, how did you get into this forest

Translations come from Google Translate- any errors in the phrase please let me know the correct phrasing. I will edit it as quickly as I can.

Notes:

The Known Realm that this story is set in is similar in landscape and location as Europe during a time frame similar to the Medieval era. The shape of the continent, however, is not like of Europe.

The Barbaric Lands, in relationship to Europe, consist of the countries of Germany, Poland, Czech, Ukraine, Russia, and all countries northward. A map will be provided later if this story is of interest to people.

Barbarians: The origin of calling the people of these northern people "barbarians" refers back to Roman times, when the lands were called Germania, on which different tribes of people lived. The Romans described them as barbaric, and posed a threat to a Roman-controlled Gaul. They tried- and failed- to completely conquer and civilize Germania

Ludwig's tribal markings are that of the German Coat of Arms.

Convolvulus: The name of Feliciano's kingdom comes from a type of flower that grows in Italy. It looks like a Morning Glory (which is probably a subspecies of this group of flower, but I am unsure).

The City of Roses is set in a kingdom similar to England.

Feliciano is 17 and Ludwig is 19.

Point of View will alter between Feliciano and Ludwig.