A cold, river wind rattled the small trees within the clearing. Unable to ignore the cold, Daysha opened her eyes. Dew had collected on her hair and brow and the numbness in her nose caused her to sniffle. In an attempt to find refuge in the heat of Maisen's body beside her, pulling the skins up to her cheeks, Daysha fought to sleep. Her discomfort persuaded her, instead, to stoke the fire.

She quickly exposed one arm to the air to snatch the buckskin at the top of their pile of bedding. Pulling it to her shoulders, she carefully and slowly inched from the pocket of warmth, attempting to cover herself without waking Maisen.

Daysha sucked in sharply, dispensing shivers through her whole body. Her hairs prickled and her insides alerted. The buckskin covered her back and shoulders, but with her legs drawn up to her chest, she sat enveloped by the wet, early morning air. The exhilaration of her senses urged her to drink in the moment.

Everything lay painted in blue. Breaths of damp pine nettles, moss, and mud filled Daysha's lungs. The straw bedding had compressed beneath her balled-up figure and the increasing ache in her hips convinced Daysha to finally remove her toes from beneath the bedskins.

While she enjoyed the brisk, rejuvenating chill of the morning, Daysha could not keep her teeth from chattering. She ventured through a biting, frost-laden brush to relieve herself. Daysha could see a white line forming on the horizon past the dim-orange fire glow where Maisen lay sleeping.

She hurried back to the kindling pile and wiped away the wetted top layer of leaves she and Maisen used to preserve the dry wood from moisture. Daysha began picking cool pieces of charcoal from the outer rim of the firebed to reserve them for firestarters later. She scooped away ash with her dig-stone to expose the glowing coal bed and pressed brown grass and twigs into the heat.

With her teeth still chattering, she clenched her jaw to avoid puttering breaths and blew long streams of air into the embers. After three breaths she saw a flame shoot up and dwindle. She gingerly added slightly larger and larger kindling. Daysha would draw in damp, frigid air and stoke roars of heat that burned her cheeks before abandoning them to the cold again and again.

As a reward to her patience, the coals sprang to life once more, finally emitting enough warmth to rival the morning wind. Daysha turned her back to the fire until she could feel the heat permeating the buckskin. Removing it from her shoulders, she quietly stepped to place it atop the other bedding, slowly undulating over Maisen's sleeping form and she sat by the fire without a need for a cover.

Birds had begun their songs. A cacophony of melody surrounded her from invisible minstrels hidden somewhere in the foliage. Imminent sunlight bathed the landscape in cerulean. Looking skyward, Daysha could see The Follower, a white orb on the horizon, looming just above the treetops. She stared at the spots of gray etched on its face. Her mind flooded with images of how it might have looked once. Its dark splotches as deep, blue waters. Its white patches forest green, shimmering with golden lights – signs of life.

A different chill swept up her spine.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

For the first time, Daysha allowed herself to consider what might await them in Giovanni’s city. A place, as he had said, even the Chieftain had never seen.

Answers, she told herself. Surely in that place there were answers. There would be people who knew more than she could ever imagine. People to whom “The Histories” were common knowledge.

Daysha permitted herself to picture satisfaction. She recalled the Chieftain’s words. They could gain wisdom that would benefit generations.

Maisen’s nightmare had issued a warning, a guilt pang that echoed across years. It could be that Daysha's dream conveyed a message as well. Perhaps it had never happened to anyone before her, but it might come again; maybe it would call to someone younger some day. It may be that Daysha had become the first in a line of seers with a new vision. This could be her legacy.

Daysha’s heart prickled. Satisfaction, as much as she sought it, did not come. Legacy had never been her sole desire and it alone would never satiate her. She would help the tribe, yes, but that wasn't all that she hoped would become of these dreams; it remained little more than a gratuity.

Daysha knew that no one else would suffer loss if this trip amounted to nothing.

What a consolation, her thoughts mocked.

She ached to think they'd return home successful on behalf of others and she'd find herself still lacking.

Don't be so selfish, she scolded.

The journey hadn’t even happened and already she felt a twinge of jealousy for the unsuspecting beneficiaries of her dream.

A long steady rush of morning air swept a chill across Daysha’s face and down her neck to her shoulders. She looked up at The Follower and shivered to see the side of its round face fading oblong with the indication that, before long, it would disappear into darkness completely. She wondered where they would be by then.

Daysha jumped sharply when Maisen grunted behind her. She turned to see his back to her as he lifted sleepily onto his elbow.

Maisen didn't take the time that Daysha had to remove himself from the warmth of the bed. Having become much more accustomed to spending nights in the open air, Maisen simply stretched and grunted lazily.

He made his way to the fire, but he didn't huddle beside it for warmth. Instead, he wrapped his cold arms around Daysha and leaned his icy chest into her back.

She squealed and tried to shuffle away playfully, "Oh! Hey! You're making me cold again!"

"Yes, but you're making me warm," Maisen held her tightly and hid his laugh behind a hum of comfort.

Daysha giggled and strained under Maisen to draw nearer to the fire. With a final, affectionate squeeze Maisen released her.

"We should start moving again as soon as we've eaten," Maisen announced before drinking deeply from the skin of fresh water they'd packed. He stopped before finishing it and handed it over for Daysha to claim the remaining swallows of water. "I'll go collect some more for us to boil before refilling the skin."

“Take your spear with you. I’ll cook fish.”

“Mm,” Maisen agreed. “Yes, better that we eat well and don’t bring it with us. I’m sure that there are beasts in the plains that would love to smell a fish so far from the water.”

They ate and repacked within the hour. Ensuring that the fire was put out and that all their items were securely stowed, Maisen and Daysha looked at one another with shrugs and smiles. Neither knew where the next steps would take them, and yet with resolve, they walked.