Post by Decimus Livius on Jun 3, 2012 18:52:48 GMT -5
Livius had watched the barbarian scouting group for a day, at least, as they moved closer and closer to him. They were traveling parallel to each other at first, but Livius could see that the group of four or five men in heavy hides carrying rather vicious looking axes were slowly adjusting their path to be closer and closer to him. He knew that this wouldn't end well for himself if the brutes caught him. He'd either be robbed and killed or, more likely, sold into slavery.
As Livius walked he began trying to lighten his load to speed himself up. He dropped his food first, reasoning that he can always catch something for himself once he reached the woods near his father's farm. Next went his bedroll, an hour or two later. He could tell that the barbarians had all eyes on him and their slow approach was perhaps intended to just scare him. It was working.
Eventually Livius dropped his sack filled with cooking and eating utensils, and then the separate sack he had filled with survival supplies such as a flask of oil and his flint. There was also the magic powder he could use to communicate through fire in this pouch, and it pained him to lose it. He thought, for a moment, that perhaps the rumor that enough of the powder in the right fire would allow him to travel between hearths was true and he could have used his gift to make a fire as he walked and escape. Any delay could lead to his capture, and the risk wasn't worth it.
The trees surrounding his father's land were up ahead and Livius felt hope tugging him forward, but all the while he could see the barbarians gaining on him. They were definitely moving faster, hoping to catch him before he could escape into the woods. Livius took off into a run, holding his walking stick like a sword, towards the trees. He heard one of the barbarians shout and their heavy booted feet hitting the ground like hammers on logs. He would never be able to escape them at this rate. He closed his eyes as he broke through the brush that marked the beginning of the forest, to shield his eyes, and he suddenly felt a great force lifting him upward.
He had been caught by one of the hulking brutes and they were dragging him away.
Except... Livius felt himself continue to rise up. Further than any human could ever carry someone. He opened his eyes, expecting to see an eagle had caught him in its claws. Instead, he saw something more wondrous and more terrifying than anything he'd ever seen before.
He saw all of time condensed into a single thread.
And then he saw the ground again, as he hurtled down onto a field covered in cut grass from some thirty feet in the air. Shortly before impact, though, he muttered a word of magic and felt himself fall softly to the ground, not a single bone shattered.
The problem, now, was that this was not the woods he had just momentarily been running into. He heard noises all about him and, as he turned in a full circle, Livius saw that he was no longer in the land he knew at all. There were grand buildings made of the thinnest metal he'd ever seen, yet they supported what had to be impossible weights of glass or crystal. Within them were plants he had never seen before, made of colors he'd never witnessed.
He saw people, soft children covered in softer robes, mulling about, touching plants and speaking to each other in tongues Livius could not understand.
He wondered, for a moment, if he had indeed been caught and sold into slavery to a city much like the famed Atlantis, or perhaps he was in the land of spirits and he had died. Perhaps he was in the place that the followers of Christ had called Heaven.
Wherever he was, he was scared.
As Livius walked he began trying to lighten his load to speed himself up. He dropped his food first, reasoning that he can always catch something for himself once he reached the woods near his father's farm. Next went his bedroll, an hour or two later. He could tell that the barbarians had all eyes on him and their slow approach was perhaps intended to just scare him. It was working.
Eventually Livius dropped his sack filled with cooking and eating utensils, and then the separate sack he had filled with survival supplies such as a flask of oil and his flint. There was also the magic powder he could use to communicate through fire in this pouch, and it pained him to lose it. He thought, for a moment, that perhaps the rumor that enough of the powder in the right fire would allow him to travel between hearths was true and he could have used his gift to make a fire as he walked and escape. Any delay could lead to his capture, and the risk wasn't worth it.
The trees surrounding his father's land were up ahead and Livius felt hope tugging him forward, but all the while he could see the barbarians gaining on him. They were definitely moving faster, hoping to catch him before he could escape into the woods. Livius took off into a run, holding his walking stick like a sword, towards the trees. He heard one of the barbarians shout and their heavy booted feet hitting the ground like hammers on logs. He would never be able to escape them at this rate. He closed his eyes as he broke through the brush that marked the beginning of the forest, to shield his eyes, and he suddenly felt a great force lifting him upward.
He had been caught by one of the hulking brutes and they were dragging him away.
Except... Livius felt himself continue to rise up. Further than any human could ever carry someone. He opened his eyes, expecting to see an eagle had caught him in its claws. Instead, he saw something more wondrous and more terrifying than anything he'd ever seen before.
He saw all of time condensed into a single thread.
And then he saw the ground again, as he hurtled down onto a field covered in cut grass from some thirty feet in the air. Shortly before impact, though, he muttered a word of magic and felt himself fall softly to the ground, not a single bone shattered.
The problem, now, was that this was not the woods he had just momentarily been running into. He heard noises all about him and, as he turned in a full circle, Livius saw that he was no longer in the land he knew at all. There were grand buildings made of the thinnest metal he'd ever seen, yet they supported what had to be impossible weights of glass or crystal. Within them were plants he had never seen before, made of colors he'd never witnessed.
He saw people, soft children covered in softer robes, mulling about, touching plants and speaking to each other in tongues Livius could not understand.
He wondered, for a moment, if he had indeed been caught and sold into slavery to a city much like the famed Atlantis, or perhaps he was in the land of spirits and he had died. Perhaps he was in the place that the followers of Christ had called Heaven.
Wherever he was, he was scared.