'Lo. This is a very impromptu short story (I just started writing this like half an hour ago) so it's not very good. But that's okay.

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Dust, more diaphanous and ephemeral than mist, and shot through with the early morning sun, flies as he races through the forest. The race he runs is desperate and hopeless, but he runs it, chasing down a lost cause. Just like he always has.

He skids to a stop, and freezes, listening. Which way did they go? He cannot tell. They are too far ahead. He has fallen behind them. Him.

Just like usual.

He listens, then, and what he hears sends tremors down his spine. Laughter, pealing through the sylvan forest like silver bells, just barely penetrates his ears.

He wants to cry when he hears it, but he does not allow himself to do so, and instead changes direction and continues running through the forest. The scenery around him is a bright mixture of pale shadows and white light, shafting through a brown and green backdrop. Nicholas cannot appreciate the fresh air, because his breath comes too fast; he cannot appreciate his surroundings, because he does not see much besides the ground before him. He ignores it all.

People think Nicholas is proud. They think he is arrogant. They think he doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

And you know, he thinks to himself, they are right. I am only concerned with myself. I am conceited and proud.

He knows it and could not shake it. It is who he is.

The laughter comes again, and he shudders. It reminds him of the first time he had heard the sound, a lifetime ago, before…

A knock came on the door, and Nicholas looked up in vague irritation. He had been reading, a tragedy about a man who was too proud to ask for help. It was most probably the travelers knocking at the door, he knew, the ones with whom his brother had wanted him to take a break from the royal life. Nicholas didn’t see why. Life was just fine the way it was. He didn’t have any need to go on adventures.

Maybe Uthar had intended Nicholas to learn something from the trip. In any case, Nicholas had gone, grumbling all the way.

The others had been impatient with his limitations. They didn’t hide that much. Rye in particular had not been averse to returning Nicholas’ contempt.

“That’s not very helpful, you know, Nicki.”

Couldn’t they see that it took practice to improve? Didn’t they realize that the less they asked him for his help, the less likely it was that he would be helpful? And when he had pointed out that they could buy spells to make him helpful? Oh no, too expensive.

It wasn’t his fault!

Strange anger comes into Nicholas’s heart, now, of all times. He does not know why he is upset about this now. It’s in the past.

They were all very unfair.

All except Iya Iya had been patient. Iya had been compassionate. And, strangely, Nicholas had liked Iya, even if she was what Rye called “boring and sappy”.

He did not seen it coming, but it came. Nicholas flat out ignored the emotions, to the extent that he has no idea when they started. He knows that she was the only one to whom he looked with a measure of respect. Then suddenly he woke up and he had to admit to himself that it was more than just that.

He slows to a stop again, nearly crashing into a tree. They were in sight.

Naturally they were walking away from him; he can see their destination, just ahead of them: a gigantic tree, in the middle of a small clearing. The Elder Oak.

Supposedly it was the portal that they would need to take back home.

Nicholas would prefer to approach with more grace, but they were too close. If they were in a hurry, they might pass through the portal before he came even close.

Forsaking dignity, Nicholas jogs to get closer. They must hear him coming; they both turn, and surprise is on both of their faces when they recognize him.

He slows, and stops before them.

“I was afraid I would not catch you,” he says.

“Hi,” says Iya. She never fails to be kind; she smiles at him, and her violet eyes sparkle. “Did you need something?”

This pleasant greeting is in contrast with Ean’s reaction to my appearance; he is not hostile, but he is not friendly, either; he looks at me with an aloof expression.

Oh, how Nicholas hates him. He cannot look the boy in the face without experiencing fierce anger and frustration. He wants to hit Ean just for looking like that.

But he ignores Ean and says, “I wanted to say good-bye. This is the last time I will see you.”

No longer aloof—Ean is now openly distrustful. Bloody elf! Nicholas would much prefer to talk to Iya alone.

Iya is not suspicious. “I will miss you.”

You have no idea, Nicholas thinks.

“Yeah,” he says aloud.

“We might visit again,” says Ean doubtfully.

“You never know,” Nicholas says carefully. He does not want to give himself away; he also does not want to lose his temper now.

There is brief, awkward silence. Had he been alone with Iya, Nicholas knows exactly what he would say: Iya, take me with you. I’ll follow you wherever you go…

As it is, Nicholas can say nothing. Ean has him in chains.

“Good-bye, Nicholas,” says Iya.

“Good-bye,” says Ean, hastily following up on her example.

“Good-bye,” says Nicholas.

Nicholas looks at her a last time, and comprehends it all: her beautiful eyes, her face, the expression there, her hair, he memorizes her voice…

Ean and Iya turn away, and they approach the Elder Oak. In a moment they are gone.

I love you.

Nicholas suddenly turns and swings his fist at a tree. He curses; the impact sears his knuckles.

That, he tells himself, was his last chance. And because he is so conceited and proud, he let it go.

And now it is too late.

Nice! Is it the one thing or are there more chapters?

ohhh that was sad yet beautifully written... like zorom asked are there any other chapters or episodes???


well surely want to see more of your work...

@Zorom: Thanks! I had intended for this to be a stand-alone thing, but continuing does sound appealing...

@Enchantress: Thank you so much. x)

yes please do continue... it really is nice..

Oh! It was awesome! Please do continue.