Survival
It was nearly evening when it happened. The setting sun casted a damp of shadows behind the trees and rocks in a green plain. The cold west wind started to bend the tall grasses in a gentle dance. The grandeur of the scene was an irony. The place was quiet and peaceful, yet the situation was dreary and painful.
The sun was hiding in the horizon - hiding from the eyes of mankind, especially from a man, who was solitary and cold on that time. It didn’t seem to resist the vista – the sight of a plain filled with blood – blood of both man and monster. This man was lying on the grass, severely wounded and beaten. About ten meters behind him was a large creature – perhaps an enormous bird of prey, or a dragon, for you can see its pair of large wings. It’s quite hard to conclude its entire appearance, because darkness already began to envelop the place. This creature was dead. All that was seen was a large shadow with vast wings attached to it.
Fortunately, the youth was still alive, but not for long. He needs help! But unfortunately, there was no one around – no one around to save him. He is in the middle of a barren, deserted plain. The winding and endless horizon depicted no trace of community or civilization.
He was doomed.
He was about to embrace his youthful and lonely death, when he saw something - a blurred image. Was it a phantom? Was it Death itself? No, it wasn’t. It was an image of a person, a woman. Darkness concealed her identity, and his sight was dizzy and dreary. She walked silently and calmly towards the fallen warrior and knelt beside him.
“Are you alright?” She placidly and obviously asked.
The man didn’t reply. Instead he asked vigorously, as he was to pump out all his remaining strength:
“Is she alright? How is she? Where...”
The rescuer seemed to be overwhelmed by the stranger's questions, but she simply and sadly shook her head, signaling a negative reply. Without making any sound, tears began to flow from his battered eyes. He bowed his head to the ground so close as if he was to kiss it. He clenched his fists with a symphony of melancholy and hatred, lifted his head, and cried: “So-“, and then he fell into the grooving grass. He fainted. It seemed that he was about to scream a word – perhaps a name – a name of a special one – a name of a loved one.
It was a usual Sunday morning in Rhine. The wide streets of cobblestone and bricks were swarmed by merchants of various races. The poor, as well as the rich, were browsing from the different items that can be found from various stalls. In the middle of the crowd was a traveler. This traveler seemed to be altered compared to other rustics. He was wearing a dark – green cape. It was a little dirty, and it has an unusual marking on it. The marking looked like a swirling circle, a whirlwind in particular. His cape almost covered his whole body with exception to his head. He was also carrying a thin, tubular sword without any edges on it, and it was made of steel. It was contained inside a wooden hilt for safekeeping. From the description, we can conclude that he was a magician. The marking and the color of his cape verify that he was a Wind Magician.
This errant, although already a magician, is still young. He’s about twenty - five years old. He was taller than normal and had whiter skin. His black, radiant hair, and his dark, blank eyes differentiated him from the others. As most Wind Magicians were, he was stoic and silent, as though he had a dark enigma. He was always on an erect, noble and dignified posture. Magicians were not usually found on the streets with the commoners, so seeing one in public was a ‘threat’ for them. They always attempted to keep themselves afar from these apt beings. Although this fact was true at most times, it didn’t mean that this mage is alone.
On his right side was another mage, portrayed by the brown cape he was wearing and an old staff he was carrying. This cape of his also had a symbol – a symbol like a range of mountains, symbolizing that he was an Earth Mage. He was Charles, a friend. He was as the same age as his comrade, but he was shorter in height. He had short, brownish hair and jovial, wandering eyes. Unlike his companion, he often looked around himself – casting a bright, gentle smile to everyone who threw back a stare at him. At the back of these gentlemen was a lady.
Silence seemed to be victorious in embracing this group, but soon failed when Charles began to speak. After looking at his back, after scanning the woman behind, he uttered to his friend:
“You know John, you are very lucky to have her.”
John, the Wind Mage, who seemed to be surprised by his companion’s words, peculiarly and puzzlingly replied:
“What? Who’s her?”
“Of course it’s Zephyr! Zephyr is the only ‘her’ you have... now – a – days, right?”
“Oh, right. Whatever.”
John’s eyes looked down in despair. He seemed to see a nostalgic vision – a vision of a past, perhaps a dark past. And he repeated the words, only in a drearier voice:
“Oh, right. Whatever.”
“I see, so you remembered her...“
“Please let’s forget about that, alright? The past is the past. We can do nothing about it,” John bursted in a harsh manner.
After lifting his voice, he suddenly shut his mouth, showing his apology, and restored to his cold, silent self.
Charles, understanding his friend’s sensation, tried to switch the mood of the talk:
“You know, that’s the great thing about you, John. After that tragedy, you are still alive and strong! Thanks to Zephyr, she saved your life! I think you’re not what you are today if you didn’t meet her. I suggest you should treat her something... you know...”
Charles, being hilarious, laughed in a feeble manner. He continued:
“Look at her, John. She’s very beautiful for a Familiar, and even for a real lady, unlike my Guardian... Can I exchange mine with yours?!” He joked.
John, whose attention was slightly caught, looked at Zephyr behind him. Zephyr looked back to him, eye to eye, with her calm and deep eyes. She tilted her head in a very small angle, heralding a query, as if she wanted to ask: "what is it?" John quickly withdrew his eyes and turned his head forward again. Charles stared at him astonishingly and asked:
“I am right, am I not?”
John avoided his eyes in embarrassment. He faintly answered, as though he was murmuring to himself:
“She’s just my Familiar, nothing more... “
They started to walk towards an inn that they once settled on.
To be continued...
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