Traveling onwards

The march back to camp had been mostly silent, all agreed that it was for safeties sake, for who else might be lurking in the shadows? But a certain awkward tension also hung heavy in the air. Conn hadn’t spoken much since he had woken up, though normally he’d spend most of the morning complaining about his sleep, or lack there of. Today he kept quiet, as he trekked a path ahead of Lucan and Althaea, who walked besides each other, both still slightly on edge.

“So how come I could sense you were in danger? It was like I was there with you, feeling the things you felt?” Lucan had pondered on it all morning, but had yet to come up with a decisive answer. As she walked Althaea looked down at her boots, she too had been a little quiet.

“It was the spell I did on you, remember… the curse?” Lucan looked ahead at Conn, who had kept a strong grip in his sword ever since he had told him what had happened in the forest. They would have to make haste, he had said, Cormac would want to know how far the Eastern Army’s scouts had traveled into the forest. His declaration had not come accompanied with a series of flavorful curses, as it normally would’ve. Lucan was beginning to get worried.

“That makes sense I suppose.” He mumbled in response to Althaea. “How come you didn’t turn that guy into a frog or something, my mom always said witches would turn bad guys into frogs.” Silently Lucan thought back on his mother and her stories, he missed them more than he had thought he would. He wondered how she was faring back home, how the farm was doing. His cousin was supposed to help her after Lucan left to join the war, but the one armed fellow seemed a shoddy choice for the hard labors farming required. Luckily his mother managed most things, she was a strong, capable woman, stronger than he had ever seen anyone.

“A frog? I don’t think I’ve ever turned anyone into a frog before.” Althaea giggled, the sound of which did Lucan some good, he was happy to know that she could still smile.

“But what you’re saying is that you could?” Althaea reached up to grab hold of Lucan’s arm, wrapping her own in his and continuing to walk interlocked with him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know… But to answer your question, my magic is only as powerful as the place I conjure it from, most of it is tied to the earth, to Mother Nature. Having traveled so far away from the place I’ve lived for the past few years, I’ve only gotten weaker. Soon I’ll have to conjure a spell that’ll help me reconnect with the earth, then I won’t have to rely so much on those big muscles of yours.” Lucan didn’t mind Althaea relying on his muscles, he kind of liked it, actually. But he thought he sort of understood what she meant, though magic and spells and witchcraft as a whole was still very, very foreign to him. He shrugged his shoulder, pulled Althaea a little closer to him and looked around to find that the three of them had nearly made their way to the edge of the forest. In the distance Lucan could see small billows of smoke rising from behind the tops of the trees, he immediately knew that they must be coming from the camp’s cookfires. Excitedly he began to hurry, as Althaea struggled to keep up with his huge steps and Conn looked at them over his shoulder, a smile hidden in his eyes.