Chapter 3

[Author note: ditching perspective swaps for the most part since people were having trouble following the story. Only Anon will be referred to as ‘you’ now, though there may be some pieces written from second person if an entire chapter is dedicated to another character.]

	Your eyes slowly opened. The only source of light were a few smoldering embers, the remains of a small fire that had burnt out not long ago. It was clear that day had long since passed, as the darkness was absolute. You looked up. Where were you? How did you get here? Did you die again?

	Suddenly the events of yesterday, (you think it was yesterday), flooded your memory. The snare, the pain, the strange park ranger who had saved your life. You had thought that it was a mirage! With considerable effort, you raised your head to look around. There was no one else to be seen. The campfire was the only thing that confirmed that your mind was not deceiving you. Unless… Reaching out, you poke at one of the burnt logs.

	Fuck that was hot! Your hand shoots back as you shake your hand in a futile attempt to cool it off. The piece of wood shifted and fell, throwing embers up into the sky. It was a real fire alright. But where was the person who had made it? If you recall, she was dressed like some sort of cosplaying weirdo. She didn’t seem like she could speak English either. She probably left to go get help. You would have liked it if she had propped you up on something instead of leaving you lying in the dirt. At least you had finally eaten something that was more than a tic-tac’s worth of calories.

	You smiled. You were going to live! Pushing yourself up, you scoot over to a nearby tree and recline against the roots. You hoped she brought more food and water when she came back. If she came back. Ideally, she would bring an entire rescue team. The thought of people mad you think; were you really dead? This place seemed less and less like the afterlife every day. Was it possible that you were still on earth? Of course it was. Earth was the only place this could be. You would be home again in no time.

~~~~~~
	Hammer. Tongs. Iron. The smell of slag and burning metal. The forge. Your son enters. He will inherit your practice, your pride. Your family around a table. Anvil. Furnace. You’re your son tending the forge. He raises a horseshoe out of slack tub. Flawless. Death.

	With a start, you awaken. That was by far the most vivid dream you had ever had. Like you lived someone else’s entire life in the span of moments. Even more bizarre was that the dream was completely linear, with no strange occurrences. It felt less like a dream and more like a memory. A sharp poke in your side directed your attention up to the cosplayer poking you with the tip of her bow. She had a scowl on her face that made it hard to look her in the eye. You had probably ruined a vacation for her.

{It’s about damn time you woke up! What the hell is wrong with you, spending all hours of the night rustling around, only to sleep through the morning! I hardly slept because of all the noise!}

You had no idea what language she was speaking. Clearly she was upset with you though.

“Uhhh… sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Do you speak English?”

The woman looked at you incredulously. You tried again.

“English? Habla Inglés? Anglican?"

	She stared at you. With an exaggerated sigh, she tossed something into your lap and trotted away. It was jerky! Wolfing down the morsel of meat, you watch your savior deftly jump into the low branches of a nearby tree and begin undoing the straps of a small hammock. So that’s where she’d been. You were relieved that she had decided to stay with you. Who knows what may have become of you if you had been left alone. Surely now you would be taken to the nearest town or lodge or whatever bastion of civilization. With nothing left to do, you patiently wait for your guide to finish breaking camp.

~~~~~
	Arsofina now faced quite the predicament: how to get a bumbling (possibly albino?) human back to town in decent time. She was frustrated that he just sat there while she packed her things, but decided that it was probably best if he just kept his grubby human hands off of her things. When the last of the supplies were packed up, she trotted over to inspect the human.

	He was certainly starved, but the fact that he was able to move and talk were good signs. It looked as if the berries and cured meat she had given him was the only food he had eaten in days. His clothes were tattered and dirty, caked with layers of mud that had accumulated from sleeping in the dirt like the animal he was. His limbs were covered in scrapes and scratches, and there was a deep cut all the way around his leg where your snare had caught him. She had already disinfected the cut, but the smaller wounds would have to wait. Thankfully, his footwear seemed to be in good enough condition to keep. The seems were beginning to come undone, but they would probably be enough to make it back to Oreath. Once he was there, all she had to do was line up a buyer. The pressing matter now was how fast he could move.

Arsofina walked a few steps into the underbrush and looked back at the human. In common, she commanded him to come.

Like a dog, he paused for a second, attempting to process what she said, and then began to trot after her. Though he walked with a slight limp, his shambling speed was better than what the elf had anticipated. That said, he was still painfully slow. When he had almost reached her, she moved farther into the woods, and again encouraged him in common to come.

This time he moved without hesitation, walking after her with a dumb grin on his face. Arsofina couldn’t really find any fault in his child-like joy. She was probably the first sentient thing he had encountered all week. She smiled in spite of herself as he caught up to her again. It really was like watching a child.

The duo moved on, Arsofina moving ahead and waiting while the human hurried after her.
~~~~~
	Man, having a guide really sped things up. This chick with the Spock ears really knew how to move through this place. You had never really paid much attention to the jungle, but now you could see that she was methodically avoiding the terrain and plants that would otherwise hinder you. Even though you were not moving in a straight line, you were still covering more ground than you would have by blindly barreling ahead. She would move to a point just within your view, and you would follow her path.

	As the day wore on, it grew more apparent that her patience with your slow progress was wearing thin. Whenever you reached her, she would sigh, or make a disgusted scoff. At least she would hand you some more meat or berries now and then. At one point she had offered you more of the pink fruit she had used to bait the trap, but you refused. Well, you just kind of dropped it when she gave it too you. After doing your best to pantomime that the fruit made you throw up, she seemed a bit surprised, but not angry. You really were lucky to be found by someone who cared about you this much.

{Pick up the pace round-ears. I know your kind doesn’t live that long and I want to get out of the forest before you need a cane.}

There she goes talking to you again. You have no idea what she’s saying, but from her tone it sounds vaguely encouraging. You smile up at her as she perches on a low branch, before she turns her back on you and moves on.
~~~~~~~~~~
	Madari stared at the bridge that crossed the Akarondi river. The sun was disappearing behind the trees, and her troop was busy stoking campfires and finding the best places to sleep. She paid them no mind. She was more concerned with what the river suggested.
Elves. Whoever they were chasing had clearly attempted to cross the bridge. That meant that they were now in elven territory, though exactly how far they had gotten remained to be seen. There was an equal, or even greater chance that the fool had simply fallen into the river and perished. She clenched her fists at the thought. If the raiders had come this far out of their way, he should at least have the decency not to disappoint them. Shaezara appeared at her side, looking out over the river.

“He’s probably dead, mother.” she said.

Madari said nothing. That didn’t seem right. It felt wrong to assume that the interloper had perished. Not in a conventional sense, she just felt that this entire situation was too strange to end with something as mundane as drowning.

“No… he is out there. I can feel it.” said Madari. She turned to face her daughter, who seemed a bit surprised at her remark.
“We will need to move quickly once we are in elven territory. There is no pact against crossing the river, but it is a pact that does not need to be made. Ironic, to capture this trespasser we must trespass ourselves.” said Madari

Shaezara nodded, turning back to look over the river, which had turned a brilliant orange in the dying light.

“If he still draws breath, we will find him.”

They stood and watched as the river shifted from orange to a pale shimmering white under a gibbous moon. Silently, they turned in unison and joined their compatriots around the fires.
~~~~~~~
	Arsofina gently rocked in her hammock. Two days. That’s all it would take to get to Oreath, the outpost she hunted and traded out of. She was worried that it would take a few more days, but the human had impressed her with his tenacity. She could tell that he was trying hard to keep up with her, even as he panted, wheezed, and stumbled after her. She peered over the lip of the hammock. The human was silently sleeping below her, in a little bed made of shredded greenery and twigs. It occurred to her that she didn’t even know his name. She should really learn what to call him. Sure he may learn to respond to ‘slave’ or ‘pet’ but who knows how long it would take to condition him.

	Arsofina rolled back over and looked at the waxing moon rise higher into the sky. She could hear the humans soft breathing emanating from beneath her, and the gentle rustling of leaves as he rolled over. He certainly was an exception to what humans normally were. She had only had the displeasure of meeting a handful of them, but all of them had been pompous buffoons who couldn’t understand their place. This one seemed… almost like the antithesis of what humans were. He was eager to please, unquestioning, (though it did take some time to mime instructions to him), and thankful for the food she gave him even though the morsels were hardly better than table scraps. This was less like a man and more like a dog.

	Arsofina sighed and shifted a bit. The fact that the human was so innocent made the idea of selling him harder. Could she really hawk him off to be raped into submission by some tentacled abomination? Maybe it was better to just keep him around and rent him out as labor. She was certain that he could make a good pack mule. An image of her leaping through the forest while he followed, laden with the furs and meats of her hunt crossed her mind. Even in her fantasy, he still wore the same goofy grin that had become a permanent feature on his face since he had met her. It was beyond her why he was so happy with her company, the pair had exchanged less than fifty words so far. Arsofina would gesture to something, and the human would do his best to figure out what she meant.

	It was probably because he was alone for so long. Arsofina brought her hands up behind her head and meshed her fingers together. Who knows how long he was out here before she had found him? Maybe he was just grateful to be rescued. Maybe he only enjoyed your company because you gave him food and water. She had deliberately avoided conversation with him tonight, using him to collect firewood and then collect some berries nearby. When he had returned, the meat had been cooked and eaten and she was already in her hammock. She had left his skewer propped up against a log. She could hear him quietly eating the meat, (the chewiest, fattiest cuts of course), below her, punctuated by what she assumed was a mouthful of berries. She was worried when he was moving about beneath her hammock, but she had continued to feign sleep. Peering over the edge of her hammock again, she looked around to see just what it was he had done.
Hanging from a small branch below the head of the hammock hung a small pouch that she had loaned the man. Reaching down, she grabbed it and inspected its contents. Wild berries, her share of what the human had collected. Even in his sorry state he was willing to give her half of his spoils.

He really wasn’t making this easy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
	You awake atop your impromptu bed and stretch out across the ground. Your friend was standing over you, nudging your ribs with her foot.

{Alright, that’s enough sleep, human lives are too short to spend all day in bed.}

She seemed a bit different today. The grimace that appeared on her face when she looked at you was replaced by a look of minor contempt. You stared into her amber eyes (must be contacts or something) as she looked down at you. Her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. She broke her gaze and looked away from you off into the jungle.

{Listen, human, do you have a name?}

Strange, the tone she used implied a question. It wasn’t the tone she had been using when she wanted you to do something or move somewhere. Still, you have no idea what she was saying.

“Huh?” you say as you tilt your head to the side.

The woman claps a hand over her forehead and mutters under her breath. After a brief bit of contemplation, she takes a deep breath and places her hand over her chest.

{Me. Ahr-So-Fee-Nah. Yoouuuuuu. are…}

She pointed at you with one hand while keeping one hand clasped over her chest. Her face was a fiercely expectant stare. Oh! Wow, you didn’t know her name yet! What with all the food, water and hiking, you had completely forgotten your manners!

“Anon.” you say placing your hand over your heart.

The woman’s eyes go wide.

{Ah-none} she says, feeling out how to say it.

“Non” you correct.

The look you receive for your correction tells you that you should just let her say your name however she wants as long as it’s close enough. You point at her.

“Arsofina”

The woman perks up a bit, and a hint of a grin appears on her face. Cutie. You hadn’t really noticed how gorgeous she was before now. Easily a 10/10. Way out of your league. What the hell was she doing way out here? The woman clears her throat and straightens up.

{Well Ae-non, we need to hurry up and get back to Oreath so I can get paid.}

She turned and began to make her way through the underbrush.

“I’m right behind you, Arsofina.” you say.

She pauses for a second and sighs, before heading off into the jungle with you jogging to catch up to her.
~~~~~~~~~~
	Madari stood over the remains of the snare. Around the base of the sapling the dirt was disheveled and upturned, clearly where the interloper had ben trapped. The other amazons searched for clues or milled about at the edge of the gap. Shaezara inspected the sapling where the rope had been tied. Small patches of blood caked the young tree, the smears suggesting that the trespasser had been thrashing for some time before he was released. Licking her finger, Shaezara rubbed off a bit of the dried blood and sniffed.

The strength of the scent caused her to cough and pull her hand away from her face. Spirits of old, he reeked of spirit energy!

“Mother! This blood is too strong! Something is wrong about all this!”

Madari walked over to the tree. It was troubling to see her daughter so distraught. She had raised her herself, and it would take something more than blood to worry Shaezara. Madari scraped a bit of blood off and gave it a cautious sniff.

It certainly was strong. The smell reminded her of when she had inhaled the fumes of the liquor when she was a child at one of the tribal gatherings. It burned her nose and made her eyes water. She shook her head and wiped the flakes of blood off on the tree.

“It seems the more we learn about this stranger the less we can figure out.” said Madari.

Yamazi, (who was quite haggard after spending so much time away from the comforts of her shaman’s hut), knelt down over a pile of sludge near the edge of the churned dirt. Reaching out with her hand, she shuddered as it passed over the pile.

“Chief, this vomit, it is full of the Gift.” said the shaman.

“Oh? I had suspected that our quarry had begun to eat dirt.” said Madari

“No,” said Yamazi, “This man somehow purged the Gift form his gullet. How that could be done, I do not know.”

The crowd of amazons murmured Amongst themselves.
“Can he be turned?”
“Not if he rejects the gift.”
“How could he preform such a feat?”
“This is an ill omen.”
“We should not pursue such a creature any longer…”

“Enough!” Madari roared. The troop instantly fell silent. “I know that this interloper is… strange… but that is no reason to fear him. Yes, I say him, there is no longer any point in avoiding the word, we all know that we are tracking man. I care not what the signs say, anyone who disgraces the ancestors will be punished! We WILL find this man and he WILL be brought into our fold. His queer magics are no match for the might of the tribe!”

The amazons nodded and voiced their agreement. They had never met a man they could not break. Their prey was close, and even though it appeared he was now being escorted by a damned elf, just made the proposition of catching him that much sweeter.