WOODS

Written on October 8, 2024 (♏︎)

Author's Notes: Written for Whumptober 2024 for prompt No. 8: Only for Emergencies (Magic with a Cost).

---

Izlude had been marching for over a day when the Yugue loomed before them–long enough to have lost track of the last time he’d rested. He had learned in the long trek through the northlands that he was not the captive who mattered. When his handler pushed him to keep walking past sunset, he did so without complaint or resistance.

Entering that sempiternal gloom, Izlude realized even with unbound wrists and his sword in hand, he would have made a poor showing. Malak had a coolness that he had lacked even when he had been the girl’s foremost abductor. She followed behind them on birdback, a silent shadow who–sleeping or waking–always seemed to carry an aura of accusation.

Sleeping or waking… Izlude wondered, not knowing which she did. As the trees blotted out the starscape above them, as the foxfire grew visible among the brambles and leaves, he wondered which he did as well. As Malak kept pushing him forward, time seemed out of joint. He lost track of how long they had wandered, feeling with each footfall that he might take root among the ancient oaks–or else drift away from himself like the phantoms said to wander among them.

---

BACK