Chapter 1-4

He could hear Zrathanzon moving some things around when he woke up in the morning. He rolled over to take a look, and was surprised to find that his teacher had packed up nearly everything in their little campsite besides the fire ring (of course) and the bedroll that he was sleeping in. He thought he had been pretty quiet when he'd rolled over, but Zrathanzon glanced over at him and said, cheerily, “I'm glad you woke up, Almonihah. I was just about to wake you up so I could roll up your bedroll.”

“Are we going somewhere?” Almonihah asked as he got out of his bedroll.

“We're going into town,” replied the ranger, tying a knot in a rope to hold one last bit of equipment on his backpack.

Almonihah froze. Town. That word conjured up memories, angry yelling outside their home, his parents' quick embrace before his father went out to face the mob, his mother frantically drawing with some kind of silvery powder on the ground in preparation for some last-ditch magical effort, the mob's sullen, angry, frightened stares as they left town...

“We can't go into town!” Almonihah almost shouted.

Zrathanzon glanced at his small charge in surprise, which softened into understanding. “I know a town where they won't throw us out.”

Almonihah's only response was an incredulous stare, to which Zrathanzon responded with a smile and “You'll see.”

Almonihah still looked doubtful, but Zrathanzon just said, “Get ready to go.”

Almonihah knelt down to roll up his bedroll, and winced. “I hurt all over,” he groaned as he realized that he really did seem to ache in places he didn't know he could.

Zrathanzon just laughed again. “That means you're getting stronger.”

Almonihah groaned again as he reached for the rope to tie up his bedroll. “Why does it have to hurt so much?”

Zrathanzon paused for a moment, then said, “Real growth always hurts. Otherwise everyone would do it.”

Almonihah's little face scrunched up in an uncomprehending frown, then he shrugged and tied a knot. Zrathanzon, observing, came over and retied the knot, with his little student observing. Then Almonihah picked up his bedroll and Zithrandrak, and they set off, Zrathanzon leading.

Almonihah kept groaning as they walked. After a while, Zrathanzon turned to look at him and said, “If you keep doing that, it'll just make it worse.”

“Ok,” Almonihah said, mollified.

They walked in silence for a little while, then Zrathanzon continued, “Complaining is worthless. It never helps anything, it wastes energy, and it saps your will. Don't ever do it.” Almonihah made no response.

It seemed to Almonihah's weary body that he walked for days, but to his surprise, after a while, the pain and fatigue seemed to fade, driven back by the demands of travel and interest in the teachings of Zrathanzon. He was fascinated by how much his teacher seemed to know about the woods, how to travel in them, how to avoid its dangers—things his mother and father had never said anything about. It seemed that every plant and animal—and even every bit of displaced leaf litter or depression in the ground—had a name, a meaning, and a purpose.

Almonihah was almost sad when Zrathanzon called a halt for lunch, because that might mean Zrathanzon would stop talking about the woods for a little while. As they unpacked some food—roots, berries, jerky—Almonihah tried to keep the conversation going by asking, “How do you know so much stuff?”

Zrathanzon laughed, and responded, “I've lived for a while.”

Almonihah shook his head. “No, how do you know so much stuff about the forest?”

His mentor chuckled again, and replied, “I've lived for a while in the woods.”

Almonihah frowned, unsatisfied with the response. Zrathanzon, noticing this, continued, “I was taught how to learn about the forest by... some friends, and the names of things I've picked up here and there, but most of it I've learned myself, living here.” He looked at his companion and said, “You could learn, too, with time.” Almonihah looked thoughtful at this, and was silent for the rest of their lunch.

They hiked for most of the afternoon, finally reaching the outskirts of a small town at the edge of the forest as the sun was touching the horizon in the west. It was surrounded by a rough stockade, as most of the villages around the untamed North Forest were. There was a single guard at the gate towards which they were walking. He looked up as the pair approached, and much to Almonihah's amazement, waved amiably at Zrathanzon.

“Evenin', Ranger! It seems like it's been a while since you've stopped by here,” the guard called out as they came within hailing distance. Then he took a closer look at the two approaching him, and continued, gesturing at Almonihah, “Little relative of yours?”

Zrathanzon laughed. “Last I checked, it was hard to be a close relative of a dragon—or half-dragon—with different-colored scales than me. This is Almonihah, and I'm... just watching out for him for now.”

“Like you've always done for us, eh?” The guard responded. “He's a lucky child, then. And, ah, welcome to you, Almonihah,” he continued, looking down at the bronze-scaled child. Almonihah, still unable to believe they were actually being welcomed, simply averted his eyes. The guard chuckled a bit. “A bit shy, eh? Nothin' to fear here, lad. Any friend of Zrathanzon is a friend of our town.”

By now they had reached the gates. “Go ahead—I expect there's still a room or two in the inn empty, if you're not wantin' to camp today,” the guard said cheerfully.

Zrathanzon replied just as cheerfully, “I think that sounds good.”

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Can't say I've got a lot to comment on about this post. I'm rather pleased with how things are progressing.