Violet

The Wilderness

They must have left really early in the morning, probably before the sun is actually up. Why did I even oversleep? That rarely happens to me. I must’ve been really drained physically and emotionally from the events that just happened.

Ugh. I hate this! What now? Everything is unfamiliar. I don’t even know where we’re supposed to be heading. I look around, looking for footsteps or anything that may lead to the direction they went.

I start to search the tree.

The tree looks really peaceful this morning—is it still even morning? What if it’s already noontime, or worse, past noon? Based on the position of the sun, it soon becomes evident that my fear is true. It do seem like it’s already past noon.

Then I remember that I bought along a watch. I ransack my satchel for it and upon seeing it, I grab it and check the time.

11:46 am.

At least it’s not past noon. I wrap the watch around my right wrist and continue searching for any clues of Jet and the others. There has to be—

There! A rarely visible footprint can be seen in the sandy ground north of the giant tree. I kneel next to it and examine its surroundings there. There are traces of footsteps going north from the footprint I saw, forming a trail. The wind must have picked up, brought sand and dirt with them, and covered the rest of the footprints in the ground this morning. It’s just mere luck that these footprints are still here.

Like any sane person at a time like this would do, I follow the trail of the footsteps. They lead meters away from the giant tree before they finally disappear. Far ahead, the land has more vegetation, though the grass is still olive-colored, like the rest of the plants in the wilderness.

Did they go there? How far are they ahead? Can I find them?

Or I’ll die alone in this unknown world?

Now’s not the time to think like that, Arche. Be strong. Don’t ever regret.

I move forward—what else can I do? Walking faster than I did yesterday, I trekked towards the grassier area of the wilderness. If there’s this much plants, there must be water near, right? They must be there, refilling their canteens, or letting the horses drink.

I hold on to my revolver, which I placed in a holster attached to my belt, as I walk and then the ground eventually becomes a little filled with weeds and grass. Not long after, I am already treading through grass that stands up until my waist.  It is kind of like our marsh back home except that I’m standing on solid ground here and not murky waters. By the time I had reached here, my legs are starting to hurt from too much walking, and I'm sweating really hard. The wilderness is a very large place, I've come to realize. Larger than I've remembered it be. 

Then the sound of a coarse growl broke the steady sound of my footsteps.

A Nymph.

I take out my revolver and aim it at my right to basically nothing but only a split second after, the purple beast appears from the high grass, threatening me with its sharp teeth.

I pull the trigger. It hits the Nymph at its shoulder and purple blood oozes out from it. It’s true then—they do bleed that blood.

The hit angered the Nymph and it goes berserk as it approaches me, its claws raised.

I’m not even shaken by it. I shot it again and the Nymph becomes nothing more but silver dust dispersing in the air. Too predictable, they are.

Then I feel the presence of another Nymph nearby. At my back, specifically.