Ab Initio

The sun was setting, trees cast dusky as sunset mist filtered through the vast forest. Wren's steps were heavy with fatigue, the oversized sword scraping against the ground, creating ruts as she walked. She was dirty, a layer of grime and sweat coating her little body. She hated the feeling. It was as if bugs were crawling on her skin. More than that, she was frustrated, throat bobbing as she tried to keep her breathing steady.

She could usually feel it. She felt the beat of the earth but she couldn't feel home. When she was there she could feel the energy her civilization had. But now that she was outside the wards, she felt nothing familiar.

All she had wanted to do was practice more. She wanted to practice the steps they had began to learn in school. And of course, she had gone outside the wards to do so, taking Drywrhydd with her. It was her sword. Her father had forged it for her Vela ceremony. Wren had taken it more than a few years early, but nonetheless, it was still hers to wield.

Wren was exhausted. The blade was heavy, unfit for her seven-year-old body, despite her determination to try. By the time she had shown any inclination to give up, the sun had begun to set and she realized she was hopelessly lost. That led her to her current situation. Frustrated, on the brink of tears, hungry and tired, wandering all alone in the forest past the wards with no way of finding home.