Initially, Cenn wondered if it had been Treesinger making the noise. But no, that didn’t seem to make sense to him; Cenn also knew that it hadn’t been a bear. No, this rustle of undergrowth had been loud, and uncautious. It sounded like something was moving quickly through them.

Cenn began feeling a nagging desire to look outside. That was extremely foolish and useless. It was dark outside, completely, utterly dark.

He inwardly grunted, frustrated at his impulsiveness, and peered through the door, cracking it open slightly.

But he could see something. A burning torch in the darkness. Accompanying it, he could hear a quiet ragged breath. The figure was some ways off. They were human.

No. Less than human.

An outlander. He recognized them only by the sight of their fur clothing, but strangely, he saw no mask on the figure’s face.

The figure did not seem to see Cenn’s cabin - it had no windows to allow light to escape, and the fire was dying.

He peered silently at the outlander. They appeared to be running from something, by the way they seemed to be hiding - poorly, and their audible, fearful breaths.

What was a dark agent of Varyn doing running from something? These were vicious once-human creatures that would never surrender in battle, much less flee from something.

Memories of the past struck Cenn’s tense nerves. He thought of his mother, and how he’d taught her to show respect for all life. Gaia had created humanity - at least, that is what Cenn had been taught. The outlanders had once been human. But was there the slightest hint of good in creatures that had submitted to Varyn?

Cenn made his decision.

He grabbed his firestarter from a shelf, and dared to open more of the door. He then rapped his bow quietly, but repeatedly against the doorframe. The outlander flinched in their fading torchlight, and looked in Cenn’s direction.

He snapped his firestarter, sparking glowing embers briefly in the air, and then he did so again a few more times.

The outlander could clearly see him. If they were hostile, He might be in for a vicious fight. He’d thought he’d built his cabin in a secluded area far from any outlander camps, but that hadn’t prevented him from encountering them before while hunting. If he had to kill this one, it could bring an entire camp on him.

The outlander began to charge at him.

He dropped his firestarter and instinctively began to draw his bow, but then slacked the bowstring.

Held at the figure’s waist was a child. Before Cenn could stop them, they ran past him into his cabin, and Cenn immediately pulled the door tightly shut.

It took a moment for Cenn to calm himself, and then he hesitantly turned to look at who he’d just allowed into his home.

It was an outlander woman. Her child stood barefoot on the floor, looking barely old enough to stand. He tightly gripped the folds of his mother’s clothing. Tears stained both of their cheeks.

“Who are you running from outlander?” Cenn asked. He did not remove his arrow from the bowstring.

“I… I run from them all,” the woman said in a thick, accented voice. “They all desire my death now. They shall all descend on us.”

Cenn turned his face away from them and cursed. He ran his hand through his hair, and breathed deeply to steady himself.

“Who is after you?” Cenn asked once again.

“Our camp,” the woman said. “Or… what was once our camp. Oh by the mystical forces they shall now kill us both!”

She began to weep.

“Focus,” Cenn said, “please, why are they hunting you?”

The woman looked down, and shuddered in grief.

“They will come, oh they will find us, and -”

“I need you to tell me,” Cenn said.

“My husband,” the woman sobbed, “the chief of our camp… after our camp suffered many defeats in fighting other camps… he… he…”

“He what?”

“He became mad… he became convinced… that a sacrifice must be made… he wanted to kill our son.”

Cenn’s blood ran chill. He had just put himself into a very, very dangerous situation. Now he for sure was in danger of being not just attacked by outlanders, but being pursued if he ran. They would come with all the fury of their dark void magic, and he would have no counter.

They could not find this woman and her child in his home.

“Give me… a reason,” Cenn said intensely, “why I should not cast you back out into the night.”

The woman wailed in grief, which only made Cenn more anxious.

“No… no no no,” the woman cried, “they will torture us, they will corrupt our bodies with horrible darkness!”

Cenn tightened his fist against his side. He had been told stories in his youth of the wickedness of the outlanders, that they betrayed Gaia for the dark magic of the void. Every sinew and bone in his body cried out against letting them stay in his cabin. He could not know if they brought void magic here with them already.

But even in the midst of all those fears… he saw a crying mother, trying to protect her child. He was reminded of the injustice he had seen in the city all those years ago. And as a foolish youth, he’d wished that he could’ve done something to help those beggars, those people that were forgotten.

“Quiet yourself,” Cenn told the woman, “as I ready some supplies.”

*****

As Cenn helped the woman and her child onto his light brown horse, Acorn, he mentally shouted at himself. He was giving it all up. All of it up. He was abandoning his homely cabin that he’d spent years shaping from the forest.

And for what? A boy hood dream of being some champion of the people? Why was he giving all of this up, leading himself into certain danger?

He set his jaw as the woman, who’d introduced herself as Shathlah, steadied her boy, Kasish. She wrapped her dark grey cloak around him, shielding him from the cold.

Cenn turned his attention to Acorn, who seemed slightly skittish at the unfamiliar riders.

“It’s okay,” Cenn reassured, stroking her muzzle, “I am here.”

Cenn listened quietly to the sound of the forest for a moment, trying to detect any concerning noises. But all he could here was the sounds of the creatures. The Borea at night was somewhat unnerving to him. This place was a place of dark mysteries, ones he’d been too cautious to explore. Thus, he had usually avoided walking about in the night.

Tonight though, he began to lead Acorn through the shadows, with his small torch giving only just enough direction to keep moving. He walked slowly, and deliberately, making sure that his foot was firm before making any further movement.

Cenn did his best to recall where the less thick areas of the forest were, but they still made a great deal of noise. Every moment he felt as if the eyes of an outlander ambush were watching them, and that they would be dead in seconds.

Cenn considered himself an accomplished archer from training years ago, and years of relying on it for food. He feared going against outlander rangers, however. He’d had a run in once with one. Only one. He shouldn’t have lived through that experience.

Acorn stepped well over the steep terrain, herself well experienced with these forests. Cenn only hoped that she was trained enough to be able to run far from here if the worst occurred.

And so he trekked south, getting further and further from his home. He’d grabbed all the food he had, but he knew it was not enough to feed him, the mother, and the child for a journey to the emerald grove. Even still, he was burdened with a small pack, not wanting to weigh Acorn down too much. Fighting was something Cenn did not want to do.

They came to a river, and Cenn led Acorn carefully across the shallow, yet quick waters. Once Acorn and the outlanders were across, he bent down at the shore, and splashed the icy water against his face. He was growing tired. They were in the thick of the night, and Cenn’s frame was growing strained from lack of sleep.

“Ah!”

Cenn jolted to his feet at the sound of Shathlah’s gasp. Lights in the distance.

“The time for subterfuge is gone,” Cenn said.

He tugged Acorn forward, and began to run. Kasish began to cry quietly, and his mother spoke to him, trying to reassure him. Cenn was only focused on moving forward, and as fast as possible without injuring himself.

In the dark, he nearly flung himself against a gigantic fallen tree, and then led Acorn down its length and around it.

In their flight, Cenn did all he could to focus on moving, and not on what was behind them. He uttered a quiet prayer to Gaia, that in the noise of their search, the outlanders would be unable to hear the ruckus their quarry was making.

They finally, several miles from Cenn’s cabin, began to reach land that was a little bit more flat. Cenn took a moment to slow to a walk, and recover his breath.

“Are they gone?” Shathlah asked in a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Cenn said.

For a moment, the harsh light blinded him. After shielding his eyes for a moment, Cenn saw a circle of dark purple fire blocking the path ahead of them.

They’d been caught.

As the initial flash faded away, the fire revealed itself to be not of this world. It didn’t actually seem to burn the area around them, but fed instead off of the shadows of the night.

“You have stolen them from us,” a deep, harsh voice said.

Hundreds of branches snapped all around Cenn, and at least a dozen figures passed through the fire, only visible as dark silhouettes.

“You have sought contention with our great master Varyn,” another voice said, “and now you shall be destroyed by his just warriors.”

“I will not give them up,” Cenn said to the shadows.

“Then you shall die.”

“Such a thing would be dishonorable,” Cenn said. “I will not submit myself to you without a fight.”

The heads of the shadows glanced towards one another.

“So it shall be.”

A horn sounded in the clearing, the strong noise extremely unnerving in the night.

But then it seemed insignificant.

Something blocked the light of the stars. It boomed as it stalked towards them, quaking the ground.

Cenn had only heard stories of such vicious corrupted creatures. The outlanders were a wicked people, but the dark magic to which they enslaved themselves made some into horrible monsters.

Cenn did not wait for the colossus to reveal itself. He unhooked his bow from his back, and loosed two arrows. It roared in anger, like the combined shout of a bear and a lion. He felt the thudding of its gigantic feet running towards him.

No, not towards him.

As it got near to Shathlah and her child, Cenn rushed the beast, and shoved one of his hunting knives into one of its legs.

It stopped and cried out in a roar of pain, giving Cenn a moment to run as it dropped its massive sword on the ground where he’d once stood.

Cenn was tired, outmatched, and did not have a plan. But neither did they.

He ran in a circle as he watched his opponent. It struggled to grab the small knife out of its ankle. Cenn fired off more arrows, and one glanced off the thick armor. The other hit the monster in the hand.

Then, Cenn made his way towards a clear position to fire at the creature in the head.

And he shot the outlander priest instead.

The scream of pain, and the shadow of an arrow in the outlander’s chest caused shock to come over the others. Cenn then took two shots at their monster’s head as the barrier of fire faded.

He jumped onto Acorn’s back behind Shathlah, and Acorn knew what to do. With no torch to guide the way, all that Cenn could do was trust his stalwart horse, and trust in Gaia’s protection.

Their pursuers did not follow.

After a long frightening retreat into the dark, Cenn finally directed them into a sheltered area protected by two boulders leaning against each other. He breathed deep and deliberately as he hugged Acorn’s muzzle. The horse that had served him well all these years had proved her loyalty to him. He would cherish her forever after this night.

“You… you did well girl.”

As his pumping veins began to still, he turned to the cause of all his trouble.

“Thank you,” Shathlah said with tears pooling in her eyes. Cenn looked away, and began going through his pack, and began to make camp in the soft moonlight.

****

Many days later, Cenn and his companions stood at the edge of a bluff. For the first time in about four or five years, he saw the emerald groves of the southern forests again. He took a deep breath.

“Thank you Cenn,” Shathlah said, “Thank you for saving me and my son.”

“I’m not leaving you just yet,” he said, gripping Acorn’s bridle.

“So are we going to that city then?” Shathlah asked.

Cenn sighed, “I… guess that we are.”

“Are you afraid?”

Cenn took a moment before answering her question.

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I need to return. I need to accept my responsibilities.”

As soon as he said that, although the pressures on his mind still remained, he seemed to gain a sudden freedom. It was freedom of confidence, of determination. Of a willingness to determine his future, rather than simply let Orbis determine it for him.

It felt like a new day to him. It felt like he had awakened from a long rest, and that the dawn of a new life had begun.

Treesinger’s song returned to his mind. He had chosen a harder path to grow his branch. But maybe, perhaps, he would feel the warmth of sunlight once again.

And carry that sunlight to others.