The wind would have flown through his hair--if he had any at all. Ursu had of course become used to being bald, but the elements spared him no expense as he rode on horseback. The sky was murky, the landscape more so, and he Ursu suddenly felt tired.
How long has it been? he asked himself as the putrid stink of the Rotten River wafted from ahead of him. To leave the mountainous Crags he had lived in for the last several years, he travelled eastward; to go directly north would have faced him with ranges that not even the Cizero monks had traversed. It wasn't the terrain itself, but rather a stronghold of legend, that was speculated to have been carved out of the mountain-faces themselves. The monks, as curious as ever, wished to investigate, but after the 4th exploration party didn't return, they resolved to leaving the area miles north of their monastery left unexplored.
Ursu was lost in his reverie; he almost didn't notice that his horse how ran along a small footpath leading to the Rotten River. Unfortunately being dubbed so due to the amount of
Ecaptre that lived around the riverbanks--though moderately intelligent for an animal species, they were brutish. For a young buck to become the Captrassar, leader, of their tribe, they had to challenge the existing one to a battle. They fought to the death, and the defeated one's body was drowned in the river. With the amount of unfortunate usurpers there were every year, this meant a very horrid smell, and a very unpleasant ride for Ursu. He sighed, worried that breathing through his mouth would make his breath smell, a small worry of his.
Does it matter? After being here for so long, I'll need to shower for a week anyway. He soldiered on, watching the grey surface of the river pace northwest sluggishly. The rapidly decomposing bodies of the ecaptre reduced the river to sludge. It was tragic to see.
He directed his horse to continue northward. He planned to travel to Lamoor, the Twilight city--it was said that the kingdom was so large and bustling, at night it shined brighter than the moons in the sky. He wished to see it himself. Three years in a monastery makes you a little slow on social interaction. After Lamoor, he intended to travel back to the village that started his journey--to hopefully inspire some peace to quell their chaotic hearts. It'd been so long...he was quite excited to see how they'd gotten on. His mother, his old friends, even those at the Ocean's Mist...Ursu's countenance darkened slightly. He didn't know how he felt about facing them again. Would they laugh? Heed his words? Perhaps even follow him? Ursu dreamed momentarily of being a leader, with thousands rallying to follow his teachings and ideals. He felt humbled--surely his destiny wasn't as grand as that.
Yet the dream...the dream he'd had a few nights ago was fresh in his mind once again.
Entertain me well, youngling. Or you’ll find yourself living to regret it. Ursu almost shivered. It seemed like a premonition to him. How was he to entertain a force that could communicate--and even cause him pain--in his dreams? He felt uneasy. The message was one thing, the powers were another.
He'd spent the first week after he'd had the dream trying to get a basic grip on his abilities. He quickly realised they revolved around absorbing the life force of other organisms, after a young passing monk, Ebba, aged 10 years right before their eyes. It was a sight to behold; normally a person would be dismayed at ageing within seconds. Ebba was simply glad he was too old for chores from then on. Ursu almost chuckled to himself. He would miss the monks at the monastery dearly. He'd made many friends in his comparatively short time there--some had been up there their entire lives. And yet, he had a feeling he would meet them all again. The sun stepped boldly out from behind a passing cloud. Hope! The young man looked towards the mountains he had left behind, as he spurred the horse on.
We shall meet again!After a few more hours of riding, and no escape from the rancid smell, which he'd now gotten used to, Ursu decided to break camp in a relatively close cave. Ecaptre weren't a threat there--they rarely left the riverbank for more than a few hundred feet. A small fire crackled, casting strange shadows on the walls, even as the sun blazed along the horizon. Sunset. He'd been riding all day--the inside of his thighs chaffed from the long journey. He wondered how many days he'd need to travel before reaching Lamoor. He'd reached the Rotten River in about a week, almost halfway there. With the flat land and sure path, it couldn't take him more than another seven days to reach the kingdom. He tried to relax his shoulders. In the time he had, Ursu saw no point in worrying about the future. For now, he wanted to hone his abilities.
While the initial loss of life had been a shock to him, he'd manage to transfer the energy he had absorbed over his time at the mountain and channel it into his malas beads. Each was about the size of his fist, and made of solid metal. They sat around his neck quite comfortably, when he'd gotten used to them. Now, he could move them around using only his mind.
To some degree, at least, he said to himself as he removed the oversized necklace. Each ball thudded in the floor around him--as Ursu wore them, they flowed like a necklace; as soon as they came off, they became dead balls of metal.
Not for much longer! Ursu grinned confidently. He would master the secrets of his magic. He just needed time. He'd already learned to stop the flow of life absorption from others, and could lift one ball with concentrated effort. He wasn't too sure
why he choose to control his prayer beads, it simply seemed...apt to him. He had mastered the emotions that drove him through his past life. He wanted to master something in his current life too.
Ursu was nervous.
Enough talk--do you train, or babble? He felt the familiar warmth of a link connecting him to the sphere, almost as if he held it in his arm. Focussing his entire mind on the ball, he tried to raise it up. A slight rumble, a movement! The sphere was lifted slightly, removing itself from the rock and dust around it. Spinning delicately, it seemed almost content to stay frozen in the air. Ursu flared with excitement.
There! It held for the next few seconds, before it started shaking violently--not a moment later it threw itself back onto the gravel. Ursu was tempted to curse--his own excitement had gotten the better of him, and because of it he lost his most controlled attempt yet. Despite his frustration, Ursu grinned--it was possible. He was getting somewhere! After attempting for hours each day, when he woke and when he slept...his progress was finally being relieved.
Like a seed in a fertile garden... he recalled his mentor, Beak, mentioning one summer eve.
You can give it the most perfect conditions...and yet it never emerges from the soil until it is ready. All you can do is cultivate your garden, and be patient--that is when the best harvest is reaped!Ursu chewed on these words. He didn’t feel like being a farmer today. Almost in a change of heart, he stacked the spheres neatly. Using the magic always tired him after.
Perhaps my stamina would grow as my power does, Ursu pondered as he pulled out a small woolen pillow. He checked once again to confirm that his horse was tethered just inside the cave. It looked safe, and sound. Undoing his robes sleepily, the sky descended to purples and browns behind him. Ursu wondered about Lamoon, and its glowing city. He couldn’t wait to reach there, so he could shine a new light on it all.