Chapter 2: A Dream of Decision

Sophonus spent the majority of his first day wandering this way and that, exploring the woods, not really even going in a specific direction. In fact, his leisurely strolling seemed rather contrary to his excited and often times fervent nature. He was calm, watching the small animals scurry about in their daily routines, and just enjoying himself and his new freedom. Zarrin had told him that adventuring was a peculiar business; most thought it was going about and beating up villains or slaying terrible beasts, plundering riches and becoming renowned as a great warrior. In truth, whilst such things may indeed happen, the tenets to follow were actually much simpler than all that.

"It ain't about going 'round and lookin' to start a fight," his teacher told him, "but more of doing right whenever there's wrong and to stop and listen to the birds in between." So that was just what Sophonus was doing. Watching the birds and strolling through the woods as if he didn't have a care or worry in the world. And truly, he didn't.

The day past swiftly enough, uneventful, nothing too exciting occurring to pierce the mundane, but then, Sophonus hadn't really been expecting an epic quest to fall into his lap on his first day out of the starting gate. That would come in time. However, around evening he found something that started to make his life a bit more interesting. With the sun falling, Sophonus was toying with the notion of halting to make camp, when ahead of him, through the last persistent bushes of vegetation was a clearing in the trees, all the brush nearby having been ravaged.

By fire most likely, Sophonus said to himself, as there were telltale scorch marks on several dangling branches, as well as piles of ash and cinders tucked into the surrounding grass. In the center of the clearing was what looked to be a bunch of burned wood all piled up, a misshapen lump marring the otherwise tranquil open spot.

At once his curiosity flared and he approached, squinting his eyes, trying to discern what it was…or had been before being incinerated. He was still puzzling on the mystery when a flash of movement made him stop dead, crouching instinctively into the grass. He scanned the area ahead of him thoroughly, now on alert, catching a glimpse of the motion again. All he could register was brief flashes of smallish brown spots, darting around and behind the mound of debris.

I must be cautious…That is most likely a part of something far larger…And I can't very well leap out and attack it if I'm not sure what it is…that's a fine way to get eaten.

He inched closer, trying his best to watch his footing, as nothing ruins ones attempts at stealth than a piercingly loud twig snap. All the while, he keep studying the situation before him, trying to observe something, anything, that would expose what threat he was facing, so he would know whether he was in for a fight or not.

It wasn't until he was right on the edge of the brush, a mere step from emerging into the flat open ground when a miniscule little brown ball of fur came trotting around in front of the heap of wreckage, scratching itself behind the ears, making a soft chirping coo. As Sophonus stared at it, he felt like a first-class fool, and almost broke down right there, erupting into laughter at his over-zealous reaction. He had been so ready for a fight, exhilarated at the prospect of seeing the first monster of his life, that he hadn't even considered that whatever lurked ahead may have been harmless. For indeed, what stood before him was hardly a vicious, blood-thirsty menace to his health and well-being.

The brown spots hadn't been some larger animal or monster…They had, ironically, been brown spots. Or more precisely, they had been nork. A whole pack of nork.

With this revelation, the tension left him and Sophonus came out from his hiding place with no hesitation, the need for slinking had past. Almost at once, the one nork who stood the closest to the edge of the burned site, turned its miniature head towards the interloper and began squeaking and yipping, alerting the others to an approaching enemy. Faster than one would imagine on their stubby little legs, the whole lot of them scurried off in every direction with generous amounts of yelping and vanished.

Their hasty and panicked withdrawal was more than the young man could take, and Sophonus halted his steps, bent himself double and just laughed. When one grows tired following a long day of walking, a bit of comedy was welcome indeed.

After a few moments of letting the hilarity out, he reestablished his composure and turned his full attention back to the main point of interest, the ruins, running his eyes over it with deep probing scrutiny. From what he could discern, it looked to be some sort of a caravan wagon, with large rugged wooden wheels and a massive cargo area. A merchant's cart most likely, traveling from place to place, peddling their wares, hauling their inventory in the back. Though what a merchant cart was doing in the middle of the woods…ah, that was the vexing question.

There actually was a path that wound through the Newcraven, Sophonus knew, a legitimate road for travelers though it was still rough and wild, what with it not often used due to raiders. And this cart was certainly not near that road…at least he didn't think it was, which meant that something caused this wagon to move away from the trail, but obviously fell prey to whatever had been threatening it.

Walking around to the other side, Sophonus was not surprised in the least at seeing an arrow shaft sticking out of the side of the wood. As a matter of fact, he had really expected to see that the moment he had laid eyes on this wreck. Like the rest of the remains, it was also charred and burnt, yet it still retained its ridge position, and Sophonus knew that there was a good bet that this arrow had been what started the fire in the first place; no doubt being covered in moss or some other flammable material and fired into the wooden cart.

Even a child could tell that this was the work of bandits, as The Newcraven was always a place for thieves and robbers to waylay anyone who may happen to travel unprotected. However, what sort of bandits did the pillaging remained to be answered.

Taking a firm hold of the arrow caused it to completely fall apart into a cloud of ash, staining his hand with the incinerated black dust. However, the thing that would answer his question was still stuck in the wood. Reaching to his boot, he pulled out a long bladed hunting knife, a keen and polished weapon, its handle inlaid with some sort of bone and animal hide. He remembered Zarrin had given it to him only moments before he had left.

"Take this boy…a knife be a handy tool to have. It's a small weapon that'll work in a pinch, but ye'll find other uses for it, I'm sure." And true to his master's words, he began to dig it into the blackened remains with the tip, twisting and wedging. Finally, after a bit of nudging and prying, a little fragment of metal popped out and into his awaiting hand.

An arrowhead, having maintained its contour even after being in the blazing inferno that the cart must have been. And the shape of the arrowhead told Sophonus who had fired it. Human. No question about it. Low desperate men who had no qualms about looting and no doubt murdering anything they came across. The previous owner of the wagon must not have had enough security to ensure his safety, or perhaps had been somewhat mad to attempt the journey in the first place.

As Sophonus was running his fingers over the smooth metal, contemplating his find, he suddenly realized that he was no longer alone. Glancing behind, he noticed that the pack of nork had returned to the edge of the clearing and were eyeing him.

A nork is a rather strange sort of creature, normally considered an average critter of wildlife by most folks, the sort that lives on the outskirts of most towns and settlements. Although they have a natural fear of any animals larger than themselves, nearly everything as it is, it's common for groups of them to follow travelers and merchants for leagues, picking up scraps and garbage left behind, the lot of them living like scavengers. Despite the fact that their packs can have substantial numbers, they aren't at all dangerous, though they can often prove themselves as irritant pests.

They stand a bit higher than a man's ankle, maybe a span or more in height, being round butterballish creatures, their plump bodies covered with fine silky hair, usually brown or black. Their faces were distinctively rodent-like, with the exceptions that their noses were far shorter and wider, and the tops of their heads sported small horns jutting out from over their eyes. One really couldn't even call them horns though; more like tiny little numbs of bone protruding from their skulls, the tips tapering off into rounded edges. They tend to walk on all fours, though they also can balance on their back legs like a humanoid should they want to, but that is a rare sight.

Their eyes were most unique thing about all nork; large, glassy, and black, though whenever their disposition alters, their eyes change colors as well, shifting the shade to match their frame of mind. A few examples that have been noted are yellow, green, or purple. Yellow shows that they are in a heightened state of fear, green is wary and cautious, and purple, not often seen, is friendly and affectionate. The nork who were watching had their eyes fluctuating between yellow and green.

Sophonus paid no heed to the curious nork who were watching him and instead bent and squatted down, letting his eyes travel through the grass of the clearing, examining footprints left behind. If one has a keen sense of perception, it is possible to discern many facts merely by examining tracks; in truth, the subtle imprints left by those who had passed told a story. The trick was being able to see and interoperate the insinuating meanings left in each footstep.

As he had expected, most of the markings in the dirt were the minute paws of the nork, having been scouring the sight for perhaps hours or days before his arrival. However there were a few tracks here and there that had remained unmarred by the careless little feet. Several large boot prints, their size being around that of a typical human or an orc, striding about the area, its path filled with menace. It's hard to tell who made it, though Sophonus had his money on human. Orcs, he had been told, tended to have more of a shuffling erratic walk than men.

If there had been more tracks in the area, he could not see them, the site had been here for a good week he judged, the weather and other passing creatures marring the evidence left on the ground. Not to mention that the sun was setting and the light fading. Sophonus knew better than to try and deduce or scrutinize in the hours of twilight and decided then and there that this was enough traveling for one day. With the clearing around him, there could not a more perfect place to stop and make camp. At least not for several leagues.

He pulled out what little he had in his pack and scrounged up some unburnt wood from the rubble to make a small cook fire, though he was sure to keep the flames to a minimum. Making fire is risky business in bandit-infested woods, as smoke usually attracts the most unwanted of people. Or orcs. And almost always, regardless of the circumstances, one man against a group of murderers and cut-throats weren't real good odds.

As the sun slowly vanished, Sophonus unwrapped an undersized portion of food he had packed before he left. His travel satchel was laden with all sorts of food that would remain edible for weeks and what little money he had, and he knew he had to be careful with what he ate and when, lest he end up lost in the woods with no food or water. Naturally, during hid training, he had been taught how to live off of land, which plants and bugs could be eaten, a valuable skill indeed; regardless, Sophonus didn't really want thing to get so bad that'd he have to do that. He had never been truly comfortable with putting wriggling and still kicking things into his mouth.

The tantalizing aroma of the slowly roasting food drew the norks like carrion does flies, and they moved closer and closer to Sophonus's camp, quietly yipping and squeaking as they stared. Sophonus watched them for a few minutes, his gaze traveling amongst the dozens of multicolored eyes staring at him, as they cautiously edged nearer. Even though he knew he should save every scrap of food for possible emergencies, as well as the possible bother he'd have with a whole pack of nork following after him, he couldn't resist throwing a little something to the group which nearly surrounded him.

With the exception of the lazy glow of his petite fire, the area around him was all but lightless, night having fallen completely, the utter blackness of the forest a bit unnerving, and the norks stood just outside the darkness-dispelling light of his miniature flames. After savoring a bite of the roasted dried jerky, Sophonus gently tossed what little remained, the chunk landing just inside the circle of light.

Almost at once, every nork lunged for this area, but pulled up short when they realized that their meal was inside the light radius. And it seemed that none of them were willing to cross this line, for it was far too close to him, the one who threw the meat. Each and every one of them voiced their frustration by squeaking at Sophonus, as if to say, "Why didn't you throw it farther?"

After a time, one of them finally worked up enough courage to put one of its paws into the light…Not far but it was in the light. It stopped and stared at Sophonus, watching him closely, its eyes a shade of light green. Seeing as Sophonus hadn't moved, it inched closer until it was within eating distance of the meat. It lowered its head and licked it, then turned tail and ran back outside the ring. It came right back to edge and continued to scrutinize the human, who still had not moved. At last, no doubt feeling courageous; it waddled right up to the morsel and ate it. All the others behind it started to yip and began dancing around, no doubt jealous.

The piece consumed, the nork looked right at Sophonus, its eyes black. It squeaked at him, as if demanding more and it began to hop up and down in an excited frenzy. Sophonus at long last stirred a bit and cleared his throat, which instantly caused the one nork to squeal and tear back outside into the relentless shadows; knocking two or three others down as it went scurrying by. Sophonus laughed at the little creatures and threw a few more scraps at the pack, making sure they all landed beyond the light of his fire. Soon after eating himself, he put out the diminutive blaze and slowly drifted off to sleep.

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Sophonus's gaze came into focus and he was somewhat surprised to see that he was a young boy once more, standing in his home. This reversion of self was easily confirmed as he looked down at himself; his arms were the bony pale twigs of his youth, his imposing height had vanished, and he felt so…weak. Vulnerable. Incapable of protecting himself and others. Somehow though, Sophonus wasn't too bewildered by this sudden change; in a way, it felt correct somehow though how he knew it he had no clue. In any case, he was a child once more. So be it.

Even as he was accepting his current situation he realized that he was not alone in the memorable farm home. His family stood around him as well, looking as familiar and as…plain as they always had been. However, none of them were moving. Still as statues one might say; silent and motionless, standing in place without blinking, without breathing. But their poses spoke not of modeling for a painting or such; rather they looked to have been in mid-action as whatever it was that froze time descended upon them.

His mother was bent before the fireplace, wooden spoon to her lips, sampling the day's meal bubbling in an iron cauldron. The flames and the steam from the stew were also unmoving, unchanging. His father sat at the table, his narrow sunken eyes thankfully closed, his mouth wrapped around a mug of liquid, probably Sea Demon, a dreadful reeking tonic of the towns own creation and a favored beverage of his. And Artimus, his brother, far heavier and tanned than his younger sibling, was leaning on a chair, a wicked grin spread across his face, looking quite pleased with himself.

Sophonus gingerly crept forward amidst them, half-expecting his stationary family to spring to life at any moment. He went over to his brother and tentatively…poked his shoulder to try and get any sort of a response. There was none. As he examined him, he stared right into that repugnant grin…he had seen that malicious almost fiendish expression before; whenever he had teased or ridiculed Sophonus about his dreams, which was at every available opportunity. Seeing that sickening smile, unrelenting, right in his face made Sophonus's vision blur to red and with a blow fueled by rage and loathing, he wound his arm up and slugged his brother right in the teeth.

Nothing happened. His brother didn't even flinch in the slightest at this display of unchecked aggression and the only thing accomplished was now his hand was really hurting. It seems I'm as fragile as I always was, Sophonus commented to himself with wry amusement. He left his brother and next approached his father, and just like Artimus, he stared at him with an almost totally undiluted hatred.

All the belittling remarks over the years, the punishments for spending so much time with Zarrin…Sophonus felt his temper flare once more towards the hateful and bitter man that was his father and was tempted to try and bust a chair upon his head. That however wouldn't change anything, as he too would undoubtedly lack any sort of reaction to the attack, and that alone wouldn't make it worthwhile, so he breathed out, trying to vent his anger in a trembling exhale, and walked away.

He went to his mother, observing her motionless behavior and small smile crept to his face, as he had a predominant fondness of her and her sensible ways. In actuality, as he thought about it, his mother was really his only family, the only one who had cared about him and even seemed to love him. The other two acted more like tormentors, placed in the house if only to insult him and make him feel useless. His mother though, she hadn't truly approved of his life's goal of departing into a world of adventure, but she always was there for him

And because of that, he now hoped that his presence would perhaps bring about some change; snap her back to the present. But no, he came away with the same results, his family remained still. Unsure of the implications to such a vexing situation and not seeing anyway to change it, Sophonus did what he had learned to do in his training for such circumstances. He went exploring to gather the facts of what was transpiring.

Thus he left his family as they were and exited the house, stepping into the dusty streets of the village, where he saw that his family were not the only ones afflicted by the baffling condition. The tiny hamlet was as still as an oil painting and everyone and everything were all but drowning in absolute silence. The whole populous of the town were stiff and rigid, their appearances suggesting that they had been walking about doing their daily routines. There were young children in the middle of the act of throwing a ball, farmers plowing their lands, traders haggling their prices to an unsuspecting buyer, and yet they were all horribly silent.

As the boy who was still an adult walked amongst the buildings and people, uncertainty began to creep into his mind, uncertainty and doubt of what was going on. He had never seen such things, even heard of such things before, even from the many tales and yarns Zarrin had spun to him.

Yet through all of the restlessness and unease that he felt, there was a feeling even stronger and more intruding…the suspicion that he had…seen this scene before, the people as they stood…it all looked familiar in someway. The more of the sights around that he took in, the stronger the sensation of familiarity became, until it had gone from a tingling itch to a near-maddening irritation across his consciousness.

Then the color began to fade. It was a bewildering and somewhat eerie sight to behold, the gleaming and vibrant hues of the world around began to dull; the crystalline azure sky began to dim, the shimmering green of the grasses and trees began to fade into pallid, almost lifeless gray. Even the people began to lose their luster, as if shadows slowly crawled over them. Soon the entire village was mired in a foreboding gloom, leaving Sophonus standing in the middle of a town of darkness.

"What sorcery is this?" Sophonus said aloud, as he could only stand and watch, "Who has the power to stop the flow of time and do…this?" Sophonus was too confused to even notice that his voice had reverted just as his form had, back to his shrill teenage squawking, the raspy sound of it grating severely against the all encompassing silence. He wished for an answer to the baffling conundrum before him, but what came to him was not an answer, but instead a voice.

"Witness your life," the voice sounded through the silence; it spoke softly and was whispery, its tone nearly expressionless, "See how your world looked years ago." Taken slightly aback by the sudden and invisible voice, Sophonus gathered his courage.

"Are you the one responsible for this?" he demanded, ignoring the cryptic statement that was spoken, "Who are you? What are you that can do this?" Whether or not he was heard at all or if the mysterious speaker chose to ignore him, the voice spoke on.

"No troubles, no cares, naught but the minor trials and tribulations one faces day to day in an ordinary life. However, the world beyond those trees is not quite so simplistic."

"I do not know who you are," Sophonus answered back, looking all over in an attempt to behold the enigmatic orator, "Or even if this is real or not, but am I to take it that you too are trying to dissuade me?"

"I am a voice of reality, real and illusion both. And a choice is all I offer. To proceed forward with your dream or let them remain fanciful ideals forever."

"Why is it that everyone I meet wishes to deter me from my purpose?" Sophonus harshly demanded, "My whole life I have been asked, pleaded with, and even threatened to give up my dreams. Will you too now try and turn me from the path that I wish to walk?"

"Not I. But you."

"What?"

"I am but a reflection of yourself, what lies in your heart and mind. I speak for your sake and benefit and I speak only because you wished me to."

"What rubbish. Reflection or no, I have dreamed of this moment for my whole life and I am trained and strong, there is nothing left here for me, nothing to hold me back."

"You speak boldly, but your words hide the truth inside of you. Your doubts linger; you are unsure if you are ready for the life you desire to lead." Sophonus was quiet; perhaps the voice was a part of him someway. For it was correct, he was still having persistent uncertainties. True he had all but obsessed over what he was now doing, but still…

"Why…why am I so nervous? Why can I not just let this matter rest once and for all?"

"Such important decisions are not to be made lightly, and until full admission of a way is set, hesitation will always remain."

"So…what do you want from me?"

"Nothing. But for you to feel peace of mind and fulfillment in whatever course you choose, a decision must be made. Here. Now. In this place, where your two destinies were torn in twain, offering you two paths to follow."

Right then, it struck him, as surely as a well timed sword thrust. He knew where he was…well, when he was. Such a day, how could he have forgotten? It was the day he had encountered Zarrin, having run into a tree in a near hysterical fit due to his father and brother's most recent installment of taunting. It was there he had met the old man, and he had seen his chance to finally takes steps to realize his dream. He had not hesitated then, so why now?

"Very well," the young boy who was actually an adult stared out into the fields and trees surrounding his home, his eyes steeling, his voice firming, "I have decided to continue on. I may miss my home and all the comforts of a simple ordinary life, but with what may very well lie ahead for me, I shall sacrifice such things and walk forward, no longer concerned for what I have left behind." Silence followed this bold and resolute declaration, Sophonus trying his best to stiffen his resolve as his words suggested.

"So be it adventurer," the voice accepted, slowly beginning to fade into the dismal gray surroundings, "Then proceed to your destiny, and let your decisions guide you forward."

Sophonus had no need to speculate as to that particular meaning. It was the day he met his master at the base of the tree, so he needed to get to that tree, to begin his journey down that road to his future. With no hesitation, he strode past the frozen folks of his home, willing himself not to look back, to focus on what lay in front of him. As he entered the field outside of town, he couldn't help but increase his pace, his walk becoming a jog, then a sprint, then a flat out run, all but galloping to the edge of the forest. He didn't know why exactly, though he knew he felt a compulsion, a powerful urge that pulled him in that direction.

Passing through the fields and patches of brush that dotted outside the town, he finally caught sight of the familiar tree line of the Newcraven forest, the place where his destiny truly began. And there was the tree. He knew it well, a stout ash, not horribly thick but sturdy enough to hold a hysterical thirteen year old at bay.

Reaching the base of the tree, staring down at the spot where he had fallen…he saw nothing. He didn't see himself, sprawled out and unconscious, blood drying around his nose. Not even an indentation in the grass. Sophonus didn't even have time to wondering the meaning when he felt something trickling down his upper lip.

He knew what it was at once. Blood. And he knew what that meant as well. He was here to play the part again, of the small boy who rammed into the tree and fell unconscious. And suddenly, just as he had suspected, blackness washed over him and he saw nothing more. And yet not long after, he heard another voice inside his head. However it wasn't that which had spoken to him, yet it was still a voice he knew very well. It was Zarrin's.

"Walk the path boy, an' let the rest of the world take care of itself."