Day 2 - Scene 3 - Part 5

It was perhaps thirty minutes later that he reached his destination. The top of the hill had been cleared except for a gnarly old pine at the very edge of a sheer drop overlooking the forests to the south.

At the root of the tree someone had built a bench out of a split log. Sweaty and out of breath Enar struggled the last few steps up to it and sat down gasping for air. He'd done it. Top of the hill. Top of the world. Enar the mountaineer.

A firm breeze played through his hair. Maybe he was a little full of himself. People had obviously been here before. They'd even seen fit to build a seat. Still, they weren't Enar the silly city fylk.

He took one last big breath and raised his head to look out over the landscape. The forest lay before his feet; hills and ravines, lakes and meadows, trees and trees and trees. The first landmark he spotted was the field. Right in front of him and far, far below it was the largest open space in sight. The grand oaks that had looked so impressive from down below no more than little toys at this distance.

The roof of the inn was easy to spot and from there he traced the road west to where the crossroads must be. He tried following it south to see if he could spot the orchard at Rolf's place, but soon lost track of where the road might be winding. As he squinted to see better the wind sprites attacked.

Howling with laughter they threw themselves down out of the old pine. The breeze turned into a gale that wrapped itself around him and tore at his clothes. It wrenched him off the bench and pushed him towards the edge of the cliff. Arms flailing he stumbled and nearly went over before regaining his balance. With a scream he threw himself flat onto the bench and held on for dear life.

He couldn't say how long he laid there, heart racing, clinging to the bench. It felt like an eternity. Eventually he realized the wind had died down and the howling was gone. All he could hear was his own heavy breathing. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear his vision. Slowly he sat up. All seemed quiet.

A faint giggle from underneath the bench startled him and he yelped a little as something brushed against his leg. A lone wind sprite appeared from between his feet,rose up into the sky in a lazy circle and with a happy laugh it swooped down towards his head.

Enar shied away but before he could lift his arm or even shout out the little sprite rushed past. The breeze it brought with it was warm and gentle and barely ruffled his hair. Maybe it wasn’t out to hurt him, maybe it just wanted to play?

He relaxed a little, let go of the bench and more wind sprites appeared. There were three or four of them. Barely more than disturbances in the air and constantly moving it was hard to tell them apart. They dodged and wove around himself and the tree and each other, dragging gusts of wind behind them.

This was so much more than he'd expected. When Rolf had said there might be wind sprites Enar had only half believed him. He'd hoped he would be lucky and see one, but he'd never imagined they'd actually come close and play. Sure, they'd scared the life out him, but they'd just been playing. They probably wouldn't have thrown him off the cliff – probably.

As the fear and tension left him he leaned back on the bench and laughed out loud, happy to be alive. Encouraged by his laughter the sprites came closer. Giggling and singing they ruffled his hair and darted between his feet.

He felt in his pocket for the phone but remembered he'd left it back in the burrow. With a grunt and a shrug he sat back again. No one would believe him without pictures.

One of the sprites bumped his shoulder and raced around his head like a little personal tornado, causing his eyes to tear and putting a big smile on his face. The camera didn't matter. There was no way they would have stayed still long enough to let him catch them in a photo. It wasn't as if anyone would believe him anyway.

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Continued in Day 2 - Scene 4.

Back to Enar's Vacation.