The girl that flew away

The sounds of the child's footsteps reverberated in the quiet of the night. The path was only soil, rocks and mud, it was by no means flat or safe for a small human to traverse with little light. So she ran, stumbled, fell, stood up and ran again over and over and over, unaware that her struggles only made her silent follower more keenly aware of her location and herself easier to keep up with.

She was running for her life. Of course she had been afraid that she was being followed by the monsters that had devoured her family and friends, but she didn't, couldn't look back. Her mother had told her: "Run away, and don't look back. Run!"

And so she ran, no matter how terrifying everything was, no matter how inside the veil of the night every spot looked like it could house some vile atrocity. She had no choice, her mother had asked her to do this, to run, it was the final and most important request her mother had ever made. She remembered the sincerity of her mother's eyes as she spoke while the Anortha tore into her flesh. Her mother had spoken calmly as if she had felt no pain, and that was why no matter how many times she fell, no matter how much her knees burned and bled, she would stand up and go on.

The little girl had exhausted herself to the limit, even an adult would collapse after running for so long. Truly the will to survive was incredible. But will could only go so far. In front of the girl there was now an insurmountable obstacle. The bridge that connected two land pieces over a big, steep ravine had collapsed. Pieces that were once part of it, and rocks that were part of the mountain lay on the bottom halfway submerged into the river.

The girl started speaking to herself, counting her options. To go above or below? The mountain paths above were too dangerous to traverse, she would surely fall from lack of vision. She could also go below, climb down, cross over the stream and then climb back up on the other side, she could. If only she could. To an adult these might not be feats that were impossible to accomplish, but to a child they were.

The Undead contemplated whether to attack the girl and absorb her mana before the others could. His kind were slow, but if she stayed here long enough one or more of them would eventually catch up. But he didn't want to deny the girl her chance. He didn't need mana desperately and he could sustain himself with things other than humans. He didn't need worry about the survival of a child that he didn't even know. But it was unfair, if she wanted to try to survive, it was unfair to deny her. Also, he found it had become a bit entertaining to see her struggle.

The girl searched around frantically, he didn't know what she was looking for. For the next while she was just searching around. It was obvious that she wanted to find something to use for whatever reason, but she couldn't, in the darkness and the confusion, she found nothing.

She was tired, so very tired. She laid flat on the ground with her hands on her face. She cried. Everyone had died, they had been prepared, but somehow an Anortha managed to get into the village, and then everything went to shit. The cacophony that was the last time she saw her family and her friends still ringed inside her mind.

She heard a low growl, an Anortha had followed her on the path, she had no choice now. She prepared herself, took in deep breaths and concentrated heavily, her mind was numb, she thought back.

She ran again, faster than she had ever ran before.

One summer two summers ago, a wandering trader had come to her village and sold products from Wior, few but very valuable. It was rare enough to see jewellery in this type of place, but the trader also sold even more peculiar items, enchanted things. Her mother told her that sometimes skilled mages enchanted items with spells. These items made it possible even for peasants like them to use magic. One had to just concentrate and visualise their inner warmth travelling into the object and then use a specific word that activated the spell. They weren't powerful items, but their value was in their versatility. For people who couldn't weave their mana into spells, they were invaluable for improving their lives. She had declared that she wanted one after she saw the village chief buy a water conjuring ball.

"The chief bought that because we are all going to use it, Ruthenia", her father told her to calm her down. Thinking back, she used to be such a brat, she should have been more nice, more comprehensive, she should have loved them more.

On the third day, or rather third night, that the trader had stayed in their village, he showed them a magic trick. Not some fast handed deception, but actual magic.

Time itself flowed more slowly with every step.

The trader took a pair of stones from the ground and held them in his hands. He closed his fists and whispered something quietly, and then he released the rocks, which then flew up and twisted around each other over his hands. It was amazing. The first time she had ever seen magic, she was enchanted by it.

The trader had refused to teach her how he had done the trick. "It's impossible" He had said. But she managed to convince him, annoyed him to the point he had no choice. The other night, when he did the trick again, she had sneaked in behind the tree were he sat and she heard him say the start of a small word into a tube that was attached to his sleeve.

He sighed and smiled at her, "Ah there it is. My trick has been revealed. I knew that a curious child would uncover it some day."

She was disappointed. It wasn't him that did the magic, but one enchanted piece of metal that was attached to his garments.

The third step, now she couldn't hear anything, only the ground, the ravine and her existed now.

He had said it was impossible, and it was. He could never teach her something that he didn't know. But he lent her the item for a bit, showed her how to use it. Which to the then five-year-old child was good enough. She held the tube firmly in her hand and whispered "Aero elek". She felt a warm energy travel up her hands, in that moment the tube she held felt like a part of her, the warm sensation flowed outwards through the instrument and was released into the atmosphere. It wasn't visible, but she could tell exactly were and how much it was. She felt it with her other hand, it moved as soon as she held it in her fingers and twisted around her, making dust and small objects like rocks and branches float around her in a circular motion.

It was so magical. The young man who had given her the instrument to use was even more dumbfounded than she was. He had been using the item himself and for his self defence in some circumstances, it took him months to learn to control it. He had never thought that a child could do something like this.

She recalled the energy back inside of her and just like that the phenomenon stopped. The merchant left after five days, but now that she had grasped the process, she could do it again. She had to concentrate more and she had to use more of the energy and once every now and then she succeeded. It was difficult, but not impossible. In order to use the magic she had to expel mana from inside her, and without disconnecting it from her body she had to focus and control its flow with her mind.

It was now or never, the final step.

She thought hard on the magic, she imagined gusts of wind, like the breeze of a summer night, like streams so strong that they could lift her up and take her away from this sad place. Once she stepped close to the edge she spoke: "Wind" -Mother, hug me- "lift me, and carry me" -to safety.- Her tears dropped down her cheeks. And then, she felt all the warmth in her body being blown away. Her mana exploded outwards from her back and within a fraction of a second the wind blew, warm like the air of the hottest night, it blew softly first, then became stronger, it pushed her over. And then she flew with such speed that she almost instantly reached the other edge of land. She ached all over, but now she was safe.

She made it.