THE LONG ROAD

I cannot remember how long I have been walking. Longer, I am sure, than any other endeavor I have initiated. I have crossed mountains and swamps, and I am sure I will do so again; this Road is long. I set out when I was still young and naive, aged only fifteen unending nights. I lived in a small village built on the stone hard permafrost of the Northern Lands. My parents and I were always different than the others, our skin shades darker, and our hair mismatched against the golden and silver blondes of our neighbors. When I grew old enough to care about my origins I asked my father why we looked so different. He merely pointed between two of the icy peaks that formed a massive range between us and the oceans far to the south. He told me that long ago he and my mother had journeyed north from their green vales to strange vistas in hopes of a new life. He said if I wanted to find our homeland to travel between those peaks as soon as the sun set for the last time that year.


I trekked across the barren tundra with only the few supplies I had decided to carry with me. The clan gave me a well made hunting spear, engraved with the history of the Northern People in intricate symbols and inlaid with sun bleached bone, wrapped comfortably with aquatic leather for grip. Sinew sewn furs kept me from the icy breath of winter and some few well preserved rations for fear I couldn't find food for a few weeks. For days I wandered with only the acidic green and blues of the spirit lights to guide my way toward the two great peaks I held in my sights. Plants and animals were sparse in these dark days though enough were found to eat and burn for some comfort. I slept little those first weeks, knowing I had to make it over the mountains before the ice began to melt and the sea beyond thawed barring any passage. Time in that long night passes in unnoticeable increments, and often I found myself running to pass the time. Not more than a month passed and the ground began to slope up, with gray rocks pressing up out of the snow, sharp as knives. I followed the trail of some unknown animal up through the crags, till I found myself constantly short of breath and needing rest more often.




The Road is much easier now than those first days. I walk across rutted marble pavers carved from some great quarry I have yet to see. This leg is ancient, with crumbling columns marking every thousandth between two Great Cities.