The Forsaken Hero

I awoke slowly, curled tightly in Fable’s encompassing embrace. My room had a bed, of course, but I found it impossible to sleep without Fable’s deep, rhythmic breathing and his silky fur tickling my face. His coat felt particularly soft and warm, and, still half-asleep, I nuzzled my cheek against his stomach, slowly building motivation to leave his embrace.

At long last, I forced myself to move, breathing out softly as I stretched my arms overhead. An unexpected chill crept across my extended arms, the cool air stealing down my skin and seeping into my core, sending a wave of goosebumps across my flesh. The year had longed moved into summer, yet this felt more like a brisk spring morning, an unwelcome echo of a season long past. Shivering, I dove back into Fable’s fur, breathing out a sigh of relief as his warmth surrounded me.

Faint trails of light seeped through the sheer gray curtains, painting the room in the subdued colors of the Heartland sunrise. It was early, so perhaps I could get away with sleeping in a bit. My magical training could wait, it wasn’t like I had anything else to do today.

Just as my eyes began to drift closed, they shot open, my breath catching in my throat. I sat up quickly, startling Fable from his lazy drowsing, a shot of panic dissolving the lingering lethargy of the night. There was one very important task I had today, something even more important than sleeping in, or even practicing magic.

Somehow, I extricated myself from Fable and stood, standing shivering in my nightdress. The white fabric was delicate and light, nearly sheer, and did very little to protect me from the morning chill. Taking a short breath, I quickly changed into something more suitable for the day’s activities, settling on a white dress with a simple red trim. Off shoulder, of course, as were all my garments, to ease the pressure on the Sunpurge.

"Isn’t it supposed to be summer?" I grumbled, plopping down on the bed.

Fable looked at me curiously, finally rising to his feet and padding over. He was large and sleek, almost ten feet long now, his dark horns lustrous and smooth, like polished obsidian. They were a little darker than my own, and I couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke them.

"Where should we look?" I asked, absently running my hand along his horns, marveling at how similar the curves were to mine. "Do you think that field is still there? Or...did those flowers only bloom in the spring?"

For as quickly as I volunteered to find flowers, I knew very little about them, or where to find them. When I was still healing from the injuries I suffered after arriving in the Northern Continent, I explored the forest around the village. Apart from the stump in the clearing, one other place had stuck out to me, about a three-mile walk from the village. With any luck, there’d still be flowers there.