Red Leaves and the Living Token - Book 1 - Part 1, Page 3

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  The soft grass thinned into a barren landscape of jagged volcanic rock. Just ahead, the rock dropped away into a sharp cliff.

  Nemic ran to the edge and fell to his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. To the south, the plateau broke into pointed crags. He couldn’t see anywhere to go in that direction.

  To the north, the cliff face weaved in and out as it formed the coast line below. The top of the cliffs seemed stable. He could make good time that way. There was a small sandy beach at the base some distance away, trapped in alcove. Perhaps he could hide there.

  He peered over the edge of the rocky wall. Normally, the salty mist and rhythmic crashing of the waves had a calming effect. Instead, a blur of panicked thoughts raced through his mind.

  He opened the small wooden chest and took out the tightly wrapped bundle inside. As he unwrapped it, fold by fold, a pale glow cast beams of reddish white light through the misty air.

  He pulled back the final fold and revealed the source of the light. He stared at the perfect beauty of its carved form, resembling a shrunken tree with a ball of roots at its base and a slender bird wrapped around its trunk. He had never known what it looked like, only its function and importance.

  Holding it in his hand was an incredible honor. He was supposed to have waited another ten years at least before the School Master gave it to him as part of the rights of succession. Everything about his possession of it now meant that something had gone wrong. What should’ve been a celebrated occasion, now only signified tragedy and loss.

  The thunder of horses in full gallop interrupted the roar of the sea below. Nemic turned abruptly.

  A tight pack of black horses erupted from a grove of trees to the north and turned to follow the northern edge of the jagged cliffs. Several of the men on the horses drew their swords.

  The blood drained from Nemic’s face. His time was up. There would be no escape.

  He turned back to the ocean and raised the figurine in front of him. It was beautiful, he thought, as it glowed softly in the evening light.

  He glanced back at the horsemen bearing down on him, only moments away.

  "God forgive me!" he whispered.

  He pulled the Token back and threw it as hard as he could over the edge of the cliff, doubling himself over with the effort. The wind caught it as it fell, pushing it further out into the sea.

  With a cacophony of screaming men and clomping hooves, the swarm of horses overtook him.

  Sixty Years Later...