The Realmsic Conquest: The Hero of Legend
The next morning, Leoden awoke beside the remnants of the previous night’s fire. Yawning and stretching, he glanced around. His friend had already left. His friend…
The word surprised Leoden since he hadn’t even gotten the man’s name, nor provided his own. Whoever he was, he seemed to be very knowledgeable and wise. Perhaps he was somebody important. It wasn’t often that strangers wandered into his village and camped out by his fire. Leoden laughed at the ridiculousness of the notion. The village Elder would never permit such a thing. Over the course of their conversation, Leoden felt a deep connection with the man. Looking to the sky, he murmured a wish for the stranger to have safe travels, wherever he was headed.
The Realmsic sunrise cast an amber glow against the distant snowcapped mountains. A part of Leoden wished he was going with his friend. He sighed, wanting to indulge his introspection a bit longer, but instead forced himself to stand.
“Lets get it done,” he said half-heartedly. He had a long list of chores ahead of him, and a short amount of time to get himself ready for the day.
The first part of Leoden’s morning dragged by with its usual lull, except for a constant awkward feeling tugging just behind his thoughts. He felt off-center today. The feeling was powerful, yet unrecognizable. He possessed no words to describe the unfamiliar ache in the core of his being. Perhaps he was getting sick. He hadn’t really been sleeping lately, and he’d heard stories about how a lack of sleep could negatively affect one’s body. That would make sense, especially with the changing of the weather and the—
Leoden was startled right out of his thought. Someone was yelling his name.
“Do you hear me? Leoden, what are you doing!” a serious-looking man asked.
“Huh?” Leoden responded, fully snapping out of his trance.
The horse he meant to be washing had walked away and was now relieving itself in front of somebody’s hut.
“I’m sorry,” Leoden exclaimed, racing over to clean up the mess.
The stable keeper gave him a stern, disapproving look. “You’ve been so absentminded. Where’s your head today?”
“I’ll clean it up, I promise!” Leoden cried.
The accident at the stable was only the beginning. Throughout the entire day, everything Leoden did ended up a complete disaster. He just couldn’t concentrate. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay present. His mind kept drifting back to his previous night’s conversation, repeating the words over and over again.
Your time will come.
Trust your instincts.
Later that night, Leoden returned to his hut exhausted. The stars were shining full and bright, yet he decided to sleep inside for a change. Being outside in the open air only increased his solitude. Laying his work tools upon a small table next to his combat weapons, he plopped down on his bed and lay back against its soft wool sheets. His eyes focused upon a spot on the ceiling, though his mind couldn’t concentrate on anything.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept inside. Since the warm season had come several months ago, he’d grown accustomed to sleeping outside. But now that the climate had significantly cooled, not even his fire seemed sufficient on some nights.
What am I rambling about? Leoden allowed his thoughts to drift. His mind and emotions were a mess. He tried to fight against that constant, awkward feeling that panged him earlier, but he couldn’t. He shifted his body to lie on his side. He closed his eyes, but the awkwardness became worse, starting as a slight feeling of dissatisfaction that expanded exponentially. His neck stiffened from the tension, and his brain felt like it was swelling beyond the confines of his skull. He tossed around until he was lying on his other side. Perhaps that would be more comfortable. It wasn’t.
The room became silent. The only thing he could hear was the air rushing through his ears. His blood pulsed inside his body, gentle at first and then with force. His body jerked.
He tried to fight against it, but the convulsions became uncontrollable. He had to sit up. His feet burned like fire when he set them on the floor. The fire intensified, forcing him to get up and walk around. That made his feet feel better. He paced back and forth from one end of his hut to the other, but the air inside suddenly became too thick to breathe. The walls seemed a few inches closer than they were just a moment ago.
“I’m losing my mind!” he said to himself. He became dizzy as the room appeared to spin before his eyes.
“I gotta get out of here,” he said, heading toward the door. He stumbled before he regained his balance. After shoving himself outside, everything stopped. The disorientation lifted, and his mind was instantly clear. An ambient glow illuminated the southern horizon. It seemed miles away but felt warm and inviting. He wanted to be a part of it.
Leoden walked to the side of his hut and untied his horse, Zinly. He mounted and slowly trotted along the main path of his village. It was the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to disturb anyone.
At the center hut, the Elder sat in a chair near the entrance, seeming to enjoy the cold night. The man had been Leoden’s only guardian all of his life; the closest thing to a parent the young warrior ever had. His heart pounded at the thought of answering the Elder’s questions. He could just hear them now ... Why are you out so late? What are you doing? Where are you going?
Leoden had answers for none of them. All he knew was that for the first time in weeks, he no longer felt restless. And as wrong as it seemed, sneaking out of his own village in the middle of the night simply felt right.
The Elder, spotting Leoden, rose to his feet. As the young man slowly rode by, their eyes locked. It was a timeless gaze that said nothing, yet everything. Leoden couldn’t explain it, but he sensed that the Elder understood his actions. With the slightest nod of his head, the Elder signaled his approval. Sometimes, the best thing is to let it all go. Leoden briefly closed his eyes, embracing his first feelings of true freedom. Then, snapping the reins, he galloped into the night. Not once did he look back.
Chapter Thirty-Two