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In the very deep south, beyond the majority of human held cities, there is a vast jungle. In the depths of the jungle are the ruins of a city greater than anyone now could imagine. From the air, it looks like an entire country of crumbled buildings and sunken brick roads. I don't know much about whoever built it in the first place, but I do know the jungle is slowly taking it back.
Before I met Gor, I always travelled alone. And I was very much alone when I first encountered the ancient city. On first sight, it seemed completely abandoned. However, I hadn't gone far when I encountered a wizened old man sitting on a broken wall, his nose buried in a huge ancient tome. He seemed completely oblivious to anything around him. Or at least until I got close. “I've no use for fay. Buzz off.” His nose never left the tome. I don't know how he knew I was there. He never looked at me. He never looked up either. “I've no use for grumpy old humans.” I retorted before turning back the way I had come. “Human?” He sounded outraged at the idea, “What makes you think I'm human?” “Well,” I turned back, “If you aren't, then I've never seen a race like yours. But you're definitely grumpy and old.” He hmmphed at that, still without looking up. I glanced around before picking a direction to fly off in. The only time I glanced back at him, he was still sitting there, nose still buried in the huge book. I wandered the city for a while, poking my nose into buildings and digging around to see if whoever had lived there had left anything of interest behind. There really wasn't much left to see, but I kept going for lack of anything better to do. When night came, I flew up to a stable looking rooftop and rolled up in a blanket. The night sounds in a jungle are always strange, so nothing I heard that night sounded odd to me. I just slept and woke with the sun. Then I went back to poking around until I came across the wizened old man again. And again, he was sitting with his nose in a huge book. “I told you yesterday to buzz off.” As before, he never so much as glanced at me. “I left you alone yesterday,” I shake my head, “And I'll do the same today.” And I flew off in a random direction. Once he was out of sight, I went back to my exploring. The same thing happened the next two days. On the fifth day since I had entered the ruins, he actually looked up from his tome and glared at me. “You're not welcome here, you addled fay. Go home!” I returned his glare, “You can't share a ruin the size of five holdings with one creature half your size? You're the addled one!” I turned to fly off. “Just how big do you think this place is?” He sounded grumpier than ever. “I can fly, remember? It looks far bigger from the air than it does from ground level.” His thick bushy eyebrows rose right into his hairline, “What kind of fay are you?” “A sprite.” His eyebrows rose even higher. Then he shook his head, returned his nose to the huge book, and didn't say another word. I flew off and left him to his reading. By this time I had established there was really nothing overly interesting about the ruins and was ready to move on. So I headed for what I believed to be the edge of the ruin. I had no idea how deep into it I was, so it didn't bother me when I didn't reach the edge before nightfall. I simply slept, woke with the sun and continued on. Until I encountered the wizened old man. This time he was seated at a slab of rock, writing on a scroll. As usual, he didn't bother to look up at me. “Go home, foolish fay.” “I'm trying.” I flew straight up into the air in an attempt to get my bearings, so I didn't hear anything else he said. From a vantage point above the tallest of the crumbling towers, I could see I was still somewhere in the middle of the ruins. There one only one direction in which I could see jungle. I headed for the green, remaining high in the air, and kept going well after dark. Only once I was thoroughly exhausted did I drop down, nearly landing on the wizened old man because I was too tired to pay proper attention to what I was doing. I barely managed to avoid him, but ended up blacking out almost as soon as I hit the ground. When I woke, I was in a bed inside a run down building. There was a bowl of food and a mug of water a a low table beside the bed. Feeling starved, I helped myself before venturing outside. The old man was again reading a huge tome. “I've never met a fay... a sprite no less... who could be trapped by magic.” His nose never left the book. “I'm trapped here?” “Apparently.” I groaned, “Are you trapped here too?” “I don't know,” He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, “I suppose I'll find out when I'm ready to leave.” “Well, if I'm trapped for certain, you'll be stuck with me 'til you're ready to find us a way out of here.” I plopped down on a rock, crossing my arms. I lost track of how many days I spent sitting around while the wizened old man worked. I still don't know what he was doing, beyond a lot of reading and writing. I do know I was bored and a bored fay can become a nuisance very quickly. I soon discovered, for as grumpy as he seemed, the old man actually had a lot of patience. Once it was established we were stuck with each other, he never complained, no matter what I did to keep myself amused. Then, finally, one day he packed all his tomes and scrolls and other belongings into a large trunk. When he was done, the trunk sprouted wheels and followed him through the ruins. I stayed close as we walked and, the next thing I knew, we were out of the ruins and into the thick jungle. But even the tangled vines and huge trees didn't slow him down. I don't know how he did it, but it seemed as if the trees moved themselves out of his way. Within two days, we were out of the jungle and into pasture land. “Well, foolish fay,” He actually looked at me, “Here we part ways. Try not to entrap yourself again.” “I'll try.” I grimaced. After that, he went one way, vanishing quickly across the grass. I flew off towards the nearest city in search of fresh supplies and news of a less hazardous place to poke my nose. |
AuthorAlexandra A. 'Lexa' Cheshire is the author of numerous novels and short stories published through Howling Wolf Books. Lexa is a wife, mother, cat owner, and music lover. Archives
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