Cold air fills my lungs as the sunshine warms my back.  Dodging beautiful, blooming pine trees I hike down to a small pond as I am accustomed to doing.  My large breakfast slows my pace to that of a peaceful step-by-step walk.  Slipping on the untamed ground beneath me I brace myself on the nearest tree.  That’s when I spotted a peculiar looking girl.  Wearing clothes which appeared to be clothes worn to church, her blond hair although short still streamed through the air magnificently.  I guessed this girl to be about my age and once or twice thought of running down and meeting her.
 Instead I sat on the edge of a small cliff were I could remain unspotted while she played near the pond with a twig.  She moved this twig around in circles gracefully, almost as if what she did had a reason.  She pretended the twig to be a wand.  She did this so precisely, with such meaning I was mesmerized in it.  Mesmerized in her actions, in her waving of her wand.  Her face stood still.
My heart began to pound when I heard footsteps behind me.  I jumped!  What a scare that was.  Only a little squirrel hopping about searching for food.  I quickly turned back around to my surprise to meet that girl face to face.  Again I jumped.  Much higher this time.  Quite a deal farther back, too!
She then asked me my name and my purpose of watching her.
“I wasn’t watching you, I just wanted to come play near the water.”  I replied.
“My name is Hosophine Saladra.  I am here to practice my profession.  You were watching me.”  She said.
The grammar she used hid her age well.  The way she spoke, so soft and comforting caused me to see her more as my mother rather than a simple playmate.
“I-I wasn’t..  I was just getting water.”  I tried.
“No reason to hide from me.  I am friendly enough.  I offered my name, now what is yours?”
“I am Chur Wilyst.  And I am also very sorry to offend a lady such as yourself.”  I said trying to be on better terms.
She laughed an innocent laugh and smiled a little girls laugh that showed her age more appropriately.  Then we became friends.  Seems her family was camped North of the pond in search of gold.  My family was South in search of freedom.  Our differences didn’t bother us and we continued to meet at the pond until summer was over and snow began to fall.
Snow was laying all around.  To say good bye she gave me a kitten, then a small kiss.  We were both about ten years old.  She explained to me that it was time for her to leave.  The way she talked seemed to have been made of love itself, it took my breath away and all I could do is cry.  She wasn’t only leaving me though, she was leaving her family also.  She was leaving for some sort of training.  I didn’t understand and I didn’t care, too.
When I asked her to stay she said that if she didn’t go now she simply never could.  I continued to cry and watched her walk away.  Slowly walking away, leaving evenly spaced footprints in the snow.  Before long she was out of my sight, before long I was on my way home in tears.  My only friend had left me and for what reasons I didn’t yet understand.
My home was for eating and sleeping, nothing more.  The rest of the time mother was busy cooking, cleaning, weaving and mending while father was busy in the woods trapping, hunting or gathering whatever we needed to survive.  I was just there to play and occasionally was taught the skills necessary for life.  Mother’s mending, father’s trapping, and so forth.
My life as a boy was joyful even though I didn’t do much.  Mother and father were falling apart.  Not so much their relationship, more that life was rough in the woods.  They were undecided on where to go and what to do.  Finally deciding to move back to the King’s Castle where I could be properly taught how to act and pick up a trade.
So my journey began.  From the mountains farthest North which not many men dared to travel, I called home, to the southwest and the King’s Castle.  A journey that shouldn’t have ever started had now begun.

It was a hot summer day, at least I thought so.  The air was dry and also was my tongue.  My parents and I were travelling by train to the King’s Castle.  My parents left there to be free eleven years ago.  They moved to give me freedom and now are forced to go back to hard work all in hope that I can learn how to make money.
Such a useless thing money is.  My parents lived for eleven years in the woods up North.  Now they decide they need this money, that I need this money.  I wish we had stayed away from the King’s Castle.  But they are not to blame.  Life in the woods can be very harsh as this last winter was.  It paralyzed them both.  Draining our supplies, forcing us to move.
Boarding the train with no money wasn’t hard since we had some gold that my father had used to barter with other “outsiders”.  The train wasn’t a very long train.  Three cabooses and the main engine was all of it.  Nonetheless, I was excited to be riding on such a machine.  The short people running the train scared me though.  Standing only my height yet their arms were bulging out showing their massive strength.
The dwarves really are a race to admire.  Their technological advances didn’t change their values.  They did what they had to do and did it well.  I was too young to admire them then at my early age and thought of them as strange in their full, dark colored beards and blue, grease stained overalls.
Once inside the train shiny, black train, I sat next to my mother on a stack of hay that sat in rows forming seats for passengers.  My father sat next to her.  I peered out the half way open door of the caboose to the beautiful Northern Mountains.  Snow still covered their tops.  Pine trees were everywhere.  Now I miss those pines more than I ever thought I could.  Mother hugged me with one arm and I fell asleep against her side.
I awoke later on to notice more passengers on our section of the train.  A tall, lengthy man with a straw hat and a red beard smiled at me showing his dreadful teeth.  When I quickly looked away he also looked away and started chewing on a piece of hay.
Mother and Father were now asleep in each others arms so peacefully.  Other passengers on the train were busy going through bags, eating, or sleeping.  So I decided to join my family in a harmonious sleep.
Waking again on my trip I could see out the opening of the caboose a never ending sea of sand and above it all a full moon.  No noise could be heard other than that of the train.  That man was again smiling at me.  My parents were sound asleep and there I was alone and afraid.
“Hello.”  I said with false confidence.
“Hello indeed to you.”  he said with a strange, irritating voice.  Then he added, “Where are you headed?”
“To the King’s Castle.”
“To the King’s Castle.”  he repeated, nodding to himself wearily, then mumbled good night to me or it might have been to himself for all I know and care, and then he fell fast asleep.
The stranger bothered me even while he slept.  Outside the hills of sand stretched forever and ever.  My kitten was in a small cage my mother had made for me.  I decided it was time for the kitten to play while mother wasn’t watching.
That cat was more than ready to play.  Scratching and clawing at my nicest pair of blue jeans before I picked her up and set her upon my lap.  She pranced back and forth from one leg to the next.  Silly cat I thought.
The cat made me remember my lost companion.  Made me feel lonely.  Remembering playing in the snow and exploring caves on our secret hill.  Swimming in the ice-cold pond, hiking off almost getting lost, and building snowmen.  My face was full of tears once again.
I opened my eyes to see a blurry light.  Blurry from my tears, light from a distant flame.  A fire in the middle of no where.  I wiped my eyes to see that my little kitten was gone.
She wasn’t gone, there she was, pawing on a patch of hay.
“Come here Saladra.”  I said calling my cat and at the same time naming her.
She had gone long enough without a name.  Now she is Saladra.  Named of course after the one who had given her to me.
The train began to turn and I again saw the light.  The light turned bright blue illuminating my view, then a dull shriveled flame of brown, finally exploding into a giant red flame, then completely vanishing.
The train straightened out from it’s long turn and continued forward.  I watched the ocean of sand for any signs of life.  All I saw was the endless sea of sand and the bright moon.  My eyes were tired and I had seen such a strange thing.  Who could be in the middle of the desert?  What could make such a fire?  These questions haunted my dreams making imaginary monsters of flame.
In the morning I woke very sore and still tired and hungrier than ever before.  We were coming to a stop.  The train moved so smoothly and squeaked so slightly I felt as if for an instant that I was flying.  The door of the caboose was wide open and I was enjoying it ever so much.  The train began slowing.
Wooden houses surrounded me.  Many of which seemed to be falling apart.  Others nice and shiny were well kept.  When the train came to a complete stop I stood and stretching as my mother and father were.  We stepped off the train into the station, inside an older looking dwarf yelled we would be stopped for one hour to get food and drink and to be back within the allotted time because he was leaving when he felt the train had been stopped for long enough.
This was great.  We walked out of the station, across a dirt road to one of the well kept wooden buildings titled SAM’S INN-COME AND EAT.  I had one of the strangest breakfasts I’ve ever known.  Something called eggs and toast.  Although they tasted alright it seemed strange.  Normally I was allowed to eat with my fingers, but mother insisted I used a fork for my eggs.
I looked out the window to the sea of sand and recognized the intense heat that was all around me.  I drank the last of the water and looked outside the open door.  A dead bush tumbled down the road as a funny looking man walked down the street with his legs far apart as if he were still riding his horse.
This place was magnificent.  Everything about it was new to me.  From the smell of the wood to the concept of permanent wooden structures neatly aligned in rows to form a town.  Many people carried weapons.  Some guns at their hips, others knives hanging from their suspenders.  All walking as if they had a cause.  Some rode brown horses and wore shining armor.  And one wore a bright blue robe and walked with large enough strides to be a horse himself.  His long, gray beard trailed behind as he hurried along out of my sight.
Then a wagon pulled by a horse crossed by.  I gave attention to my mother and father who were discussing some matters that I didn’t care too much about.  A women came and father handed her some gold, then we left.  We walked around the mysterious town looking inside the open windows at beautifully made clothing and toys.  Turning on our first right we came upon a food store.  Father entered first and I trailed behind mother.  Father handed the man on the other side of the counter some gold my mother left the store with a loaf of bread in each arm and father with a large cow hide canteen filled with water and I with a wooden cup.
On our way back to the train I wondered how much farther we would have to go before our journey would be over.  I suppose a short while at the least since we had bought food and drink for the journey.  The train was already filled again with some new and old passengers.  I was delighted to see that the stranger that had bothered me once before was not yet there.  In his place sat a charming man in a black suit fit for a preacher.
That man rose and exited the train in a hurry.  Two seconds later a bang was heard not far away.  Mother hurried me into a corner while father looked outside the train.  I watched him as his head barely stuck out the opening.  Then another explosion came.  I watched as my father’s head slowly turned towards me, his eyes wide with fright, then his head was gone.  Women and children were screaming with fear.  A bright flash of red light came and mother fainted.
I was in shock and tried my hardest to control myself.  Panic took over the other passengers on the train and as they ran off the train they were all torn apart by a what seemed to be a strong wind.  One man’s arm was torn off then hurtled towards me and landed on my father’s headless corpse.  Others were mutilated and torn to shreds by the wind.
Now no one else was on the train.  Several dwarfs with axes in hand were running for cover behind a horse coral.  I hid behind a stack of hay on the train.  Gun shots were fired repeatedly from seemingly all directions.  And in the middle of all the hysteria that man in the bright blue robe was walking with  a hood hiding his face.  His hands were pressed together in a position similar to that one would use while praying.  Then his hands moved apart and circled around a bright green sphere.  His hands now circled the ball faster and the ball became bigger and brighter.  He pushed the flame together turning it brown, then he threw his arms up and with it the ball.  Blinding red light covered the sky.  My ears were deaf and I could not see for what seemed to be an hour.
When my senses were replenished there was nothing to hear, neither a gun shot or a foot step.  But there the wizard in his bright blue robe stood.  Next to him was Hosophine, in a elegant bright blue robe.

In bewilderment I watched them.  She stared at me but said nothing.  She was a distance away and she didn’t see me with her eyes for I was well hidden.  She could sense my presence.  The wizard shook his head with a pleased look on his face and walked away.  Hosophine followed.
I lay on my back still hid from view of any survivors, or intruders, and wept until my heart stopped pounding and I regained control of my head.  Now standing I looked outside feeling a little drowsy.  The blood shed was horrific.  I immediately puked when I realized I was standing next to my father’s remaining body parts that were now scattered about.  Some how blood had covered me also.
I jumped down from the train and looked about again.  There my mother’s dress was.  Her body was no where to be seen inside.  No spots of blood could be seen either.  Strange I thought before I burst into a crying fit that sounded like  that of a baby.

When I wiped my tears away I felt sick to my stomach and my head trembled.  I struggled to walk but found the strength when I heard footsteps.  I hid under the train itself for I was closest to it.  It was the charming man in the preacher’s suit.  He walked also in large strides and stopped close to me then went to his knees in order to see me.
I was frightened beyond belief.  I remembered my pocket knife and drew it on the man.  As I did so he threw it to the ground literally with his eyes which frightened me much more.
“Come.”  the man stated.
I saw no other choice and obeyed the man’s wishes.  Next to him stood two dwarfs.  One with ripped sleeves exposing his gigantic arms and was holding a dull, black machine gun.  The other had no shirt and long gray hair with a gray beard also, he stood with a large battle axe at hand.
“They let you live.”  The man said.
“Who let me live?”  I questioned sounding almost as confused as I really was.
“The Northerners.  It was another one of their damn raids.”  The dwarf with the gun said.
“What raids?”  I asked.
“Come.  I need to rest and you look as if a rest would help you also.”  The man said.
I didn’t care about why these things had happened, only that they happened.  I followed behind the three of them feeling awkwardly safe.
We walked along wooden building after wooden building in the same direction as the train’s intended path.  We walked well out of the town until the moon was high in the sky showing only half of its true self.  We were now in a beach of sand that seemed to be endless.  We had walked for some time with no sounds to be heard.
The dwarves were carrying large packs and lunged them off their shoulders.  Within five minutes three pup tents were constructed by the dwarves around the fire that was maintained by the magician.
That night Chur tried to pay close attention to Dale, the dwarf with the gun, and to the magician, Smith, but Chur was distracted by his thoughts of  his losses.  Smith explained the magic raids from the North.  The wizard who was earlier seen in a blue robe practiced, with honor, the Magic of the North.  The magician, who now covered himself in a brown robe, practices Blue magic.  Which is one of the weakest magics of them all.
The older dwarf, Fwarwin, inherited the gifts of Black magic which is a weaker version of the Magic of the North.  Only the magician is skilled in the use of magic and although has the weaker of the magics is still the strongest.
“I am a magician.  A magician is any one who practices any form of magic, simply put.  A wizard, however, trains for years and years to become one with the magic.  Until he becomes the magic, then he is a true wizard.  I, therefore, am a wizard in training.”
“There are many other varieties of magic but the ones that concern us now have been covered.  One more thing that hangs around here in the desert is Beast magic.  Many outcasts have settled in the heart of the desert and live with beasts, some of the outcasts have trained their bodies to use beast magic.  They are, uncivilized if you will.
“Tomorrow we will need to buy some supplies.  It will be a long day tomorrow after the long day I’ve had today I’m ready to speak with the spirits, then fall asleep.  My magic will hide us from the beasts’ magic, but not the Northerner’s Magic.
“You and Fwarwin will stand first watch tonight.  We need to stay in pairs.  If something happens awaken me immediately, and always expect the worst.”
The magician laid down to rest after spiraling his hands to the heavens and mumbling some jimberish I mistook as swear words.
The night was tiring, my eyes heavy.  Fwarwin seemed to enjoy being around the campfire and even seemed to feel safe.  He chewed on a piece of dried meet slowly and watched it in his hand between chews.  He sat on a log close to the fire.  Too close for my enjoyment.
I instead looked towards the ill moon which gave faint light to the vast desert below.  I found myself shivering sitting on the ground alone.  I noticed Fwarwin was gone.  Where to, I had no idea.  Then I heard it.
A fierce cat’s tongue bellowing out hisses.  I started to run to awake the magician but before I could I barely halted myself from stepping on my own pet kitten.
The only thing left from my past was that cat and I was full of joy to see it.  I had completely forgotten about her.  Now I felt a little better seeing the cat paw at my levis as it usually did.  The kitten was now the size of a normal cat’s full grown size.  Chur wasn’t familiar with cats and thought it to be normal.  His parents had also found the cat to be strange but paid little attention.
The cat was still very playful despite its size and continued to play with a piece of Chur’s pants long into the night.  Fwarwin returned from his urination trip yawning paying no attention to Chur or the kitten.  This rather annoyed Chur that he left without a word and gave him a fright, but he said nothing.
“It should be time for Smith’s watch soon.  I’ll wake Dale now and when the Smith awakes you can catch some rest of your own.  Good night.”
And with those remarks Fwarwin left to awake his son and take over Dale’s bedding.
As if it were a ritual, Dale began to chew on some dried meat, also watching it between chews.  But differently he held his gun on his lap ready for whatever may come, and seemed to have less manners.  He made all sorts of noises while eating.
By now Chur’s tiredness had worn off and he was wide awake.  Or at least he thought so.  A head he saw gray clouds gather around him.  Rain began to pour and lightning struck.  Mountains full of pines surrounded him and he was in a perilous sleep.
The magician stepped out of his tent the second Chur fell asleep.  He rose well prepared for the day ahead for he was use to not sleeping much.
Chur slept drooling over a log near the fire while Dale and Smith watched camp.  As the magician watched camp he felt three wandering beasts nearby to the East.  Three was no match for the both of them who were well equipped for battle.  Smith walked ahead in short steps from the deep sand beneath them.  Dale walked strutting his shoulders holding his gun in one hand facing the ground.
Not for from camp they spotted the lights from three men.  They weren’t easy to spot in the faint light and so the magician sent a ball of fire towards the three of them.  As they slowly melted into the sand, howls could be heard.  Not from the flaming bodies, but from hundreds of others attacking from the West.
“Quick, it was an ambush.  We must get back to camp and save Fwarwin and Chur.”  Smith said.
Dale shook his head and they took off into their fastest run the sand would allow them.  The shouts and gruesome howls could still be heard, now much louder.  The camp was destroyed.  Neither Fwarwin or Chur could be seen.  That was, of course, because Fwarwin had also heard the shouts and had buried himself and Chur in the deep sand were they wouldn’t be disturbed.  An old trick he had played on friends before when he was young.  They both breathed by using Fwarwin’s magic.
“The beasts must have been helped by some of the Northerners or else I would have sensed them.  Good thing they were just after our supplies.  Our friends have burrowed themselves into the sand around here some where.  Ah, here they are.  Help me dig them up.”
And with that they both dug their friends up.  When they were both found in the sand they were still fast asleep.  Their old camp was destroyed so they all camped in the hole of sand they dug their friends out of.  Smith decided a fire wouldn’t be wise.  The kitten came prancing down to the new camp out of the dark night and nestled itself against Chur.

The next morning they were back on their journey.  Now with no packs, tents, or any other supplies.  Hiking along Chur was told of all that he had slept through.  Why their supplies were all gone and why he should sleep with one eye open.
“My father was killed back in town.”  Chur told the magician.
“I’m sorry.”  Smith replied.
“And my mother was there, too.”
“Bad things happen to good people Chur.  You must be a good kid.”
“Yes but her body was gone.  Her outfit was there but her body gone.  Like it had disappeared.”
“Then you must be a damn good kid.  Sometimes they kidnap people.  There is nothing we can do now.  She is most likely dead by already.  The wizard who attacked us yesterday is wise and also talented.  It’s best just to forget the past and move on.”
“She could still be alive?”  Chur cried unable to control himself.
“Not likely, but possible.  If she was she would be in the Northern Plain by tomorrow.  Next full moon she would be sacrificed.  Not very likely though.  You’re only a kid, you can not go up against Northerners to save your mother.  Even if you knew she was alive you could not help.  Not possible.  Crazy.”  The magician went about in this manner for quite some time.
Chur knew his mother was still alive.  How could she be dead?  His mother couldn’t die, not when he was so young, when she herself was still young.  The Northern Plain he thought.  We just had a full moon a few days ago.  In a month I can find my mother.  I can save her if anybody can.
“He’s right you know kid.”  Dale said, “Nobody has been up North before.  Only those born with demons in their souls, those who are truly wicked can go.”
“No.”  Fwarwin interrupted, “Dwarves are not born evil, they’ve mined up in the North all their lives.”
“But never to the Northern Plain.  That’s where she’d be.”  Smith said.
“True most dwarves haven’t.  In tales I’ve heard dwarves have managed to sneak among some of the most dangerous wizards there are.  You’ve heard the tales.  It’s all in the timing.”  Fwarwin continued.
“Those tales are merely riddles for children.  No real meaning to them.  Everybody knows there is no way to venture into the Northern Woods among the wizards.”  Dale said with confidence.
“Stop son, I’ve been there, I have seen wizards there in those plains.  I have seen them use their magic on them.  I have heard the shouts of those being sacrificed.”  Fwarwin stated.
“How is this possible?”  The magician asked baffled.
“It isn’t.  The old man is going crazy.  Dad you need to rest.”  Dale said in a childish way.
“Quiet.  I will prove it when I return with his mother.”
“When we return.”  I said.
“We don’t have even a tent to sleep in, nonetheless a blanket.”  Dale protested.
“Son you are not welcome to come with.  Go home, tell mother I died in my sleep so she will not worry over a worthless guy like me any longer.  Go now.  You are a good son.  I’ll see you soon.”  With that said Fwarwin turned and began walking away.
“Good bye father.”  Dale said with a firm look on his face.
Dale walked away in a fit of anger.  Off towards the West.  I and Fwarwin started North, but the magician followed us and insisted we went through town and retrieved some supplies.  We changed directions to the East.  Walking at a quick pace.  Even though I hadn’t known it at the time old Smith had been casting small amounts enchantments on me to keep me calm.  My anger still raged.
I wish my mother was dead.  Why would they take my mother?  What are the chances?  The gods of luck must be against me.  I’ll show those cursed gods.
Hiking through the sand was slow travel.  Before they could reach the town night fell and the moon rose high above.  They lay down next to each other while the magician watched camp more careful this time.
“Mother, I love you.  Wherever you are, I love you.”  Chur whispered to himself before he fell into a sorrowful sleep.

The magician kept watch half the night, Fwarwin the other half.  Waking eager for the long journey ahead, Chur sat up dreadfully hungry.
“I haven’t ate in days.”  Chur announced.
As if to tell him to be quiet the magician waved his hand at him.  Chur was no longer hungry but his body still was fatigued from the neglect it had received the last couple days.
Once again they hiked through the desert of sand towards the town.  Fwarwin told Chur and Smith the story of how he and some friends had stumbled upon the Northern Plain.  The story went something like this.

“Some friends of mine decided to test to see if the tales of old were true or false.  We set out one weekend telling anyone who asked we were going in search of gold.  Nobody had any idea we had other intentions.  There was three of us, the others I can not name.
“After following the trail to the mines into the mountains, after we went to one of the mines, we kept walking towards the sun.  It took us three or four days travelling on horses.  Good horses they were.  When we made it to a deep woods were it was too dense for the horses to go, we tied them up and continued on.
“I hadn’t made ten full steps when the horses began yell.  They groaned and fought.  By the time we made it back to them there was only horse meet flung against the trunks of trees.  All three of the horses had been mutilated.  Blood was in pools among the ground.  I turned my head to walk away.
“From above came a demon.  It was just like the tales describe.  The size of a horse with wings, blood red bodies ready to kill.  They kill for pure pleasure.
“Five of them swooped down into the dense forest grabbing at my friends.  One reached for me and I swung with my axe here and made him think twice.  I ran as fast as I could.  Dodging branches and trees that sometimes were only a foot apart.
“I ran and ran not looking back until the trees were gone and I was standing a giant plain.  It was nice and grassy.  Flying cats could be seen in herds fifty feet in front of me.  Another seventy feet to the end of the plain.  The plain seemed to form a perfect circle.  Trees were placed in perfect order by magic.
“I wiped my bloody axe clean and returned it to it’s sheath.  I rested with my back against the tree.  You see the wizards could not sense me, it was the day of a full moon, their magics were focused on their human sacrifices.
“The moon began to rise.  Wizards began to emerge like zombies into the plains.  Two to my left and right went by me.  They all formed a giant circle around their prey they had captured.  That’s when I started to run again.
“I could still hear the shouts and the shrill voices of wizards.  More terror than I know how to tell.  We can make it there and save your mother.  That is where she will be.”