Unicorn lands
The imaginary dragon accompanied him all through the night. Only very late did Pafe manage to get some sleep. Waking up into plain day, he had to get going.
After crossing the border into enemy clan lands, he was in unknown territory. If spotted, he would be as good as dead. There would be no trial, no appeal. Only a dagger across his throat, or a blade in his back.
Each shadow flickering in the distance got his heart racing, pounding ever faster. Every sound seemed magnified, every whisper of wind against the leaves a reminder of how easily a life could be snuffed out. He had to tread carefully.
Yet, the determination was there. He would make it through, or die trying. No other options were left.
A road led out of Unicorn lands, passing through the very southern tip of the territory. Sometimes merchants used it when bringing in exotic goods to the clans from far-away realms. At this time, it should be mostly quiet, as winter was about to begin.
This was the path Pafe was trying to find. He believed it must be nearby. On the maps, it weaved through close to the jagged ravines he had crossed, only to curve, and then pass next to the border castle of the Dragon clan.
Using the skills he learned in his orienteering classes, positioning himself according to the sky and natural landmarks, he set out in the direction of where he thought the road would be. The woods, vast and stretching in all directions, stood as an obstacle to be overcome, testing both his resolve and his patience.
Treading carefully, planting his feet in the soft undergrowth, Pafe walked further and deeper into the unknown. All around him, tall trees cast shadows upon the ground, a reminder of the dangerous territory he found himself in.
And then, without warning, the forest parted. A clearing opened before him as though the earth itself had heeded his need. He paused, finally catching his breath.
The road, the exact one he had been searching for, was winding right in front of him.
"I found it!" Pafe almost screamed, his face glowing with relief and pride.
With his good eye, he surveyed the road up and down, making sure there was no one close by. The coast was clear. In the moment, he permitted himself a rare outburst of joy.
Swinging his arms upwards, Pafe celebrated. A strange jolt of energy passed through his entire body, giving him a boost of motivation. The self-belief he briefly had in himself after cutting out his bad eye was there again.
Even if for a fleeting moment, he knew he was going to be all right.
Then he heard noises. It was the sounds of armor wringing, of people marching. He had to hide.
He spotted a cluster of thick bushes at the edge of the forest. Surrounded by tall trees, this seemed like the best spot for remaining unseen.
Pafe's heart was racing. It felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. His mind went into overdrive. To calm himself down, he focused on breathing in and out, slowly and deeply.
Not even a peep was permitted. Otherwise, he was a dead-man.
Peering from under the overgrowth, he could spot a small group of soldiers. Pikes strewn over their shoulders, they seemed to be patrolling the road.
They passed quickly. Even then, Pafe remained in his hiding spot for a while longer after ceasing to hear their footsteps.
It would be quite dangerous for him to take the road. While the path would be quite empty at this time of the year, there was always the chance to come across a group of merchants, some locals traveling between villages, or even the odd foot patrol.
Pafe decided to walk through the forest instead, mirroring the road from a distance. This way, he could avoid any potentially messy encounters.
After a few hours on the march, it seemed as if he had settled into a routine. Then, sound of laughter. His ears suddenly perked up. He heard what seemed like crowds of people laughing and talking loud. This got him worried.
Yet, he couldn't stop. The only choice he had was to continue.
As he got closer, he realized what it was. It was a roadside inn, a place where travelers could rest for the night. Or if they got really drunk, then two or three. They almost always did.
It was not a large building, but outside there were places for horses, as well as barns for the storage of goods. On top of the building, two words were clearly spelled out: Vincus Inn.
"Vincus? That's the family name of the Unicorn clan," mumbled Pafe under his breath. "I am in deep."
Trying to be as quiet as a mouse, he crept along. Then suddenly, Pafe stopped dead in his tracks, his feet burying themselves into the dirt. A flash of panic crossed his face. A man was standing just a few steps in front of him.
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He cursed in his head. He had almost unwittingly bumped into him.
To his relief, he realized the guy was completely piss drunk. Supporting his large body by leaning on a tree, the man could barely stand straight. He was relieving himself of all the liquids he had built up during what was likely a heavy night of drinking.
In all likelihood, his vision was so hazy that he wouldn't be able to distinguish between a person and a rotten piece of timber.
The man zipped himself up, and stumbled back in the direction of the inn. About to continue walking, Pafe noticed something lying on the ground. The drunk man had left behind a small bag.
Opening it up, inside, lay an assortment of trinkets, and a few coins. However, Pafe discovered something even more important. A map of the region. Not one of those rough sketches he saw at home. A real, local map with all the details etched in.
"Thank you, Mr. Pisser. This will come in handy," said Pafe out loud. He then immediately stopped himself. Spending so much time alone, he had developed the habit of talking to himself. No wonder some people believed he was crazy, he thought.
He clutched the map in his hands, scanning it up and down.
He didn't need to continue blind. The chart told him all the places he would cross. The current inn was clearly marked. He could expect two more along the way, as well as a small guard post, and a larger fort towards the end. All in all, it would be a four or five day journey out of Unicorn territory.
Then, taking a second look at the map, his heart started beating fast. Did his one eye see right? He spotted the drawing of a small path breaking off from the main road. It was so small, that he almost didn't notice it.
In the moment, he allowed himself one more outburst.
"This is great!" He exclaimed while smiling.
It would allow him to bypass all the obstacles. A large grin appeared across his face, a glimmer of joy igniting in his eyes, as he envisioned what lay ahead.
--
Rolling the dice
There is an ancient saying in the Eastern Cities that defines how to approach risk. Pafe heard it from one of his teachers, and it left a huge imprint on his thinking.
"In life, you sometimes have to roll the dice."
It's the willingness to venture into the realm of uncertainty, to relinquish control and allow chance to take its course that defines greatness. Yet, success and failure are two sides of the same coin.
Heads, you win. Tails, you lose. In different circumstances, the same exact decision that propels one man to utterly crush his enemies, drowns another man in the middle of a nameless river.
The first man is celebrated for millennia. The other is quickly forgotten. For Pafe, the dice were already cast. As he escaped from his home castle, he set in motion a chain of events with a yet unknown ending.
He feared the most likely conclusion to his rash action was dying in a ditch. Somewhere, far away from anyone he had ever known. Forgotten, with no one to greave for him. The curse he had been born with would have run its course.
No matter, he had to try. Paradoxically, the struggles of the last few days had in a strange way actually boosted his morale. The longer he continued on his journey, the more his initial fears were turning to hope. Approaching the shortcut from the map, the young man was more determined than ever.
His spirits were high, but this was not really the case for his physical condition. While the mind can often override the body, there are limits to its powers. The many days of marching, climbing, and sleeping in bad conditions had taken a toll on his body.
His steps were slowing down, each footfall heavier than the last as he trudged on through. Shoulders slumped, his back hunched under the weight of his pack, a visible sag betrayed the weariness that permeated his every movement.
The lines etched deep into his grimacing face bore witness to the toll of days spent battling the elements, his brow furrowed with the strain of navigating treacherous paths and enduring harsh conditions. The bruises he got were still not completely healed, and his elbow was feeling the pain.
It was only his determination that kept him going. The positive feelings lifted his spirits, which allowed him to keep on putting one foot in front of the other. That's all he needed to do.
When feeling exhausted, Pafe knew the best strategy is to stay in the moment. Forget about the far future. Concentrate on what you are doing now. Just put one foot in front of the other.
One step turns to two steps, which quickly turn to a thousand steps. That's how you overcome the mind's initial inclination to give up.
This mental toughness brought him to this point. Finally, he spotted it. The small sideroad. He cracked a smile. In an instant, all his fatigue seemed to melt away. It's as if he caught his second breath.
Picking up the pace, he quickly found himself at the crossroads. Turning right would lead him out of Unicorn territory. In two days, he would be out of clan lands.
The path was not how he had imagined it. It was much more of a dirt track than a road. At times, it was completely covered up by grass.
In Pafe's opinion, this might not be such a bad thing. A decrepit state meant that not many people walked that way. The less people, the better for him. For a young man on the run, there could not be a better situation.
As he walked the track, his mind wandered. The scene around him served as the perfect backdrop to the state his head was in. Wild, confused, and lost in a tangle of thoughts, he trudged on, the untamed wilderness mirroring the chaos within.
Overhanging branches, gnarled and twisted, cast eerie shadows upon the uneven ground, their frail leaves rustling softly in the whispering breeze. The path seemed to fade into the distance, disappearing into a haze of dirt and neglect, as if its destination had long been forgotten by the world.
His feet brought up clouds of dust as he stomped them into the ground. The little particles danced in the slivers of sunlight that managed to penetrate the thick canopy of the forest around him. It would have been a splendid sight, were it not for the circumstances.
"Look at the colors," Pafe allowed himself a moment to marvel. Only a moment. His stomach was churning, making noises. The short pause to reflect on the beauty of nature, unfortunately didn't magically whisk away the reality of the situation.
Finding the drunk man's bag was a stroke of luck. It was a gift that kept on giving. Pafe was running low on food. With the supplies he had taken from home dwindling, and his ability to hunt greatly reduced due to the fact of being on enemy clan territory, he was down to just a few days rations.
Digging more deeply into the bag, under all those trinkets, he discovered a real treasure. Food. Tasty treats in fact. The young man's mouth watered even thinking about them. Stopping for a short pause, he took one of them out and ate it.
"Mr. Pisser, you have outdone yourself," mumbled Pafe.
Wiping the saliva off his chin, the young traveler sang praises for the drunk man's taste in food. He hadn't had something so good in ages. Or maybe, Pafe was so hungry that anything above earthworms tasted like high cuisine. It's not about the taste, it's about the energy, he kept reminding himself.
It was getting dark, and the runaway decided to look for a spot to tuck in for the night. As many a time before, the underside of a tree where the roots were exposed would serve him well.