The First Trial

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

((This thread is purely for my character so no it isn't relevant to anything else. I just felt writing this would be more genuine than emoting at myself for an hour which was the alternative haha.))

 

As the towering skyline of Linandria became more and more distant, Artimec could not help still but swell with pride at the accomplishments of his people. He dispelled such thoughts from his mind and focused on his mission, the task before him would require him to sink far away from the touches of civilization. He was well prepared. His recurve bow hung across his back, quiver at his hip, extra strings in his satchel. He carried herbs for healing and seeds for planting. He could survive years without ever seeing another soul if need be, hopefully it didn’t come to that.

 

 

The trees of Laureh’lin towered over the lithe elf as he trekked through the forest, any lights of the city now fully snuffed out behind a thick wall of foliage. He looked up and saw the impossibly tall canopy above him. He felt small in this world. It is as it should be, he thought. We are insigificant creatures and the Aspects are great. Their creations are what sustain us, how could we ever hope to gain mastery over the wild?

 

He continued venturing through the untamed forest, coming across a few clearing he considered making camp at. He opted not to on all occasions. This was not far enough out yet, this wasn’t true wilderness. His desires were soon met with the sight of a bush full of sharp, jagged emerald leaves.

 

An’s blade. Artimec had rarely seen them. Naturally, as any touch from men or elves would kill the plant. If it was so much as breathed on by descendants, it would die. Seeing this plant meant one thing- no civilization could ever survive here. No men ever walk this path. This was true primal wilderness.

 

Birds chirped above and the sea of thicket rustled perpetually as wolves, bears and mountain lions roamed the forest floor in droves. Artimec could hear them all. He bore the gift of druidism after all. But, it no longer overwhelmed him. He pushed through the foliage, thorns and pricks carving cuts and nicks into his exposed left arm. He grimaced and forged on until he found a clearing large enough to sit in. He stopped for a moment and froze as he noticed a ring of mushrooms around said clearing. ...Of course. This hadn’t been left here by chance. A fae ring.

 

With both anticipation and dread, Artimec stepped into the ring of mushrooms. First one leg, then the other. His eyes fluttered as a wave of dopamine overwhelmed his body. Focus! A fae ring could entrance you and keep you locked in its grasp until you starved to death. Remember yourself. He shakily took a crosslegged seat, closing his eyes. With effort, he pulled out his pipe, filled it with ground up powder of cacti, struck a blaze, and took a puff. He exhaled a stream of smoke into the sky… then everything went dark.

 

“Relax your bow arm little man, don’t think too much.”  A heavy-set wood elf with auburn hair and pleasant crescent shaped emerald eyes gently nudged Artimec’s arm to adjust his stance as he held a small hunter’s bow at full draw. Artimec looked up to the man who was his father, his ten year old self feeling small, yet protected in the man’s presence.

 

 

“There you go. Hold your breath. Your mind knows where it wants the arrow to go.” The deep rumbling voice exuding helpful advice continued. Artimec took a high pitched breath, his wide childish eyes narrowing on the pumpkin head dummy far away and loosing the arrow, which embedded itself in the dummy’s chest.

 

“Aha!” Artimec’s father laughed delightedly and scooped his young child up into his arms, giving him a tight bear hug and swung him around. The young Artimec giggled and clutched his father tightly before being set back down onto the ground. “Go collect the arrow, oem’ii. Those things aren’t cheap.”

 

Artimec trotted the yard across the grassy, wheat-filled plain to where they had set up the dummy. Hisssss. He heard a slithering in the stalks. He froze, he felt something brush up against his bare foot. A sharp shiver ran up his body and he screamed, frantically staggering backwards and falling on his bum. He found himself face to face with a spitting cobra, erect and poised vertically. It’s hoods were expanded and it hissed menacingly at the boy, as if deciding yet whether or not the little elf was a threat.

 

“Be calm, oem’ii.” Artimec turned slowly and found his father standing behind him, offering out a hand. He took it and shakily rose to his feet. His father’s voice was calm, soothing, confident, even as he stared down the venomous creature. “Snakes fear us as much as we fear them. They are misunderstood. Their venom is their weapon for when they must eat. When they must fight to survive, but they will not hurt you if you do not bother them. Are you not the same?” he asked, nudging Artimec’s bow-arm pointedly as he slowly led the boy backwards, away from the snake which was still hissing at them, but now seemed more docile, content that this timid boy in front of him was not something worth lunging at.

 

The snake retracted its hoods and lowered back onto the earth, slithering away. Artimec let out a squeaky sigh of relief and buried his head into his father’s tunic. “Come, little man. Let’s go home, and not mention this to your mother, mm? I don’t think she’ll be quite as understand of our slithering friends as we are.” The boy nodded numbly, and headed home with his father.

 

Artimec awoke with a sharp gasp, his eyes shooting open. He was back in the wild. He looked down, the crimson tattoo on his arm was there, his lean muscles were back. He was in the present. That was no dream. It couldn’t have been. It was too vivid, too real. It was a vision, it had to be.

 

His body ached to stay in the fae ring, but his mind overpowered it. He pushed himself to his feet, and with a groan, released himself from the bonds of the ring of mushrooms, leaving his peyote pipe behind. He had received what he came for. Time to go home.

 

Artimec gathered up his things and began the long trek back to the civilized lights of Linandria.

 

((Credit for the art goes to cave_creature, feel free to give her your shekels for some yourself.))
 

 

 

[Wendigo 786]

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