Tracks

Paul soared through the towering trees, determined to track the scouts Mr. Ben had reported. He remembered that the campfire had been spotted five miles north, but since that was a week ago, he feared they might have already moved farther away. This urgency drove Paul to master flying, knowing it was his only chance to catch up to them.

Sure enough it only took him minutes to cover that destination. Finding it difficult to scout under all those trees blocking his view, Paul immediately descended onto a nearby tree where he then scouted for a campfire. He meticulously scanned the surroundings and was able to finally caught sight of an old campfire. 

He observed silently, flying closer and closer until he landed on a tree. Scanning for signs of danger and tracks, Paul found large footprints that didn't belong to any humanoid species. This triggered nightmarish memories: images of the creature that had ravaged his village, the one responsible for the loss of his limbs and the devastation of his once-thriving community. Paul's burning desire for vengeance fueled the deep-seated anger in his heart. He cursed the dragon and vowed to kill it just as it had mercilessly taken the lives of others.

Paul tried to calm his emotions and decided to continue scouting. Soon, he found human footprints diverging from the creature's tracks. He faced a decision: pursue the dragon or rescue potential survivors. Without hesitation, Paul chose to prioritize tracking the human footprints, hoping they would also lead him to his parents.

That decision led him to discover more footprints, some showing signs of struggle. This lifted his spirits, indicating potential survivors. However, it also hinted at a grim possibility his father had spoken about, ''Slavers who would stop at nothing to profit from the lives of others.''

Paul vividly remembered how Will felt disdain towards them. Now, he too was filled with contempt. Clutching his bow tightly, he muttered a vow of vengeance, "Bastards, they will pay for this. Wait for me, Father and Mother. I will make them pay."

As his search continued through the dense Forest of Timul, Paul couldn't help but wonder how the outsiders had discovered their secluded village in the first place. This thought fueled his growing rage, so he tried to distract himself by marveling at the vast expanse of the forest dedicated to his Goddess Fay. Under normal circumstances, he knew he would have enjoyed this journey. However, knowing that his parents and other survivors might have had to walk without stopping just to reach this place made it impossible for him to find any joy.

As night fell, Paul decided to set up a small camp atop a towering tree. Below, he secured a small fire by gathering rocks and dry wood. This was done after ensuring the location was safe from intruders and suitable for making fire. He then began cooking a simple meal with the tools he had brought.

After cooking, Paul retreated to the top of the tree, taking his tools and food with him. He made sure to extinguish the fire before it attracts attention. Settling down, he took a substantial bite of the savory, smoky jerky and sipped the hot cocoa, reminiscent of the recipe his mother used to lovingly prepare.

"It feels like home," he thought, reminiscing about the times he and his parents would share meals filled with laughter. Paul missed them dearly and hoped they were safe, trusting his father to protect his mother.

Consumed by recent events, he pondered the potential power in his eyes that his mother had mentioned in her letter. He concentrated intently, trying to will some ability into existence, but after several hours of effort, nothing happened. Disappointed, he drifted off to sleep.

In the dead of night, a piercing scream jolted him awake. Alert, he scanned his surroundings, ready to fly if needed. When the scream sounded again, Paul instinctively but carefully sought its source. To his surprise, he discovered a small, terrified wolf cub entangled in a trap, one of its paws ensnared by a rope.

Further exploring the area, Paul stumbled upon a grim scene: an adult wolf lying lifeless in a cruel spiked trap. With no immediate threats in sight, he turned his attention to a nearby cub, its leg caught in another trap. Gently freeing the small creature, he received a grateful lick in return.

When the cub let out mournful cries beside the fallen wolf, Paul's heart ached. He couldn't bring himself to abandon it. He then destroyed all the remaining traps left by the intruders before returning to his camp with the cub.

Back at camp, Paul shared his last piece of smoked jerky with the hungry cub. As night fell, the little creature nestled close to him for warmth. Paul softly stroked its fur, naming it "Black." Feeling an unexpected bond growing between them, he drifted off to sleep, the cub resting peacefully by his side.

Paul woke up early and decided to head out to look for food. He soared into the sky with Black tucked beneath his clothes. Initially, he thought flying with the young wolf would be impossible, but to his surprise, Black enjoyed it. Eventually, they spotted a plump rabbit, and Paul swiftly took it down with precision. Heading back towards the camp with their catch, he saw a pack of wolves feasting on their kill.

Glancing at Black, he pondered if the cub wanted to join the pack, but the young wolf showed no interest. Smiling, Paul continued, eager to prepare and savor their successful hunt. Once back at the camp, he skillfully cooked the rabbit, and they enjoyed a small portion, saving the rest for later.

Paul continued their journey with Black snuggled comfortably in his arms, the wind gently ruffling their hair as they ventured through the forest. Each day, they moved quietly, doing their best to remain unnoticed while following the tracks. After several days of pursuit, they finally emerged at the forest's edge. Paul felt a mix of emotions—anticipation and a hint of anxiety. He readied himself for the adventures beyond, uncertain if their presence would be discovered.

Paul marveled at the stunning grassy landscapes stretching before him, the sunlight catching his eyes as a refreshing breeze swept past. The brilliant blue sky seemed to stretch endlessly above, and as he soared with Black by his side, he felt a profound sense of freedom and tranquility, momentarily unburdened by his worries.

Glancing over his shoulder, he took in the majestic line of towering trees marking the edge of Timul Forest. Their ancient trunks reached skyward, their leaves whispering secrets of the wild. A stirring sense of longing filled him as he thought of the great adventure ahead—a quest to reunite with his people, a journey sure to be fraught with challenges.

After a short rest, they continued flying to follow the tracks, but Paul flew higher for safety this time. However, after a while a sudden gust of wind caused them to fall rapidly. Paul fought the wind and managed to save them both just six feet above the ground. As he checked on Black, who was still sleeping, he couldn't help but giggle loudly, which woke the cub.

"That woke you up and not the fall?" Paul said, smiling at the cub. He looked up, wondering why the wind was so strong, and decided to just fly lower. However, when he was about to continue, the tracks were nowhere to be found.

Paul anxiously scanned the landscape, hoping to find any trace of the tracks. Despite his efforts, he couldn't find anything, and panic set in. Realizing he was lost with no sense of direction, he murmured, "I've made a huge mistake, Black. This is not good."

Worry gnawed at Paul as he thought about his parents and the daunting reality of being stranded. He stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to further think or take the risk and venture into the unknown, fearing he might never find the tracks again.

After a deep breath, he forced himself to move forward, striving to clear his mind. As he considered his next move, the extent of his unpreparedness hit him hard. He tried to recall his father's lessons on navigation and survival, but the details eluded him—he'd never truly paid them much attention.

"Why didn't I listen before? I'm such a fool. I need a plan, and fast," Paul muttered, absently stroking Black to calm his nerves.

Determined to press on, Paul took a deep breath and chose to move forward, hoping it might lead somewhere familiar. As he took flight, he scanned the landscape, but nothing looked recognizable. His earlier sense of orientation was now completely gone, leaving him feeling even more lost. Meanwhile, Black relieved himself, unnoticed by Paul, who remained preoccupied with his growing anxiety.

***

Days had passed, another sun began to set, casting long shadows for Paul and Black who were currently searching for a suitable place to camp. The open field felt too risky, so they continued looking for a tree but found none. Exhaustion set in as they ate their last ration. Just when they were beginning to feel weary, a distant light caught their attention. The darkness made it easier to spot the light from above, and they slowly glided down toward it.

Approaching the light, they saw a tall, strong man cooking meat over the campfire. The flickering flames illuminated his face, revealing a young man who seemed to be around his age. His long silver-white hair cascaded down, and he had two shields on the ground, wearing leather armor, but there were no visible traveling bags.

Paul drew his bow and arrow, aiming at the stranger, prepared to shoot at any moment from a nearby tree. Suddenly, Black, awakened by the smell of cooking meat, began to bark. The stranger, startled, quickly reached for his shields. Paul fired a warning shot, hitting the middle of the stranger's hand and one of his shields. As the stranger looked around for the source of the arrow, Paul took aim again.

"Stop! Who are you, and what are you doing here?!" Paul demanded loudly, pretending to be a local.

"My name is Zaell Alafilido. I'm a newbie hunter. I just got my hunter's license a few days ago. I'm not from around here because I travel a lot. Bandits stole my bag yesterday. I was just passing through this area looking for them. Who am I speaking to? Could you please show yourself? I am no threat," he said calmly, raising his hands to show he surrendered.