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The Commander Orthon had called him to take a message. A message to his wife, and his children, Irran and Jura. This was the first time he had run a message such a long distance. No horse for him, Horses were hard to come by. Even the Prison cart was being dragged by the old bald jailer. A punishment, he thought, but no one had told him what for and it wasn’t his place to ask. But to run was everything, and run he would.
***
Ren had clung to Hunter’s back as he kicked the stolen horse into a galop. Fire arrows had missed them by inches, the heat warming her cheek as they flew past. Two days ago she was a normal girl in the village, hunting, laughing, working. Now, through no desire of her own she was an evil Nu’Marie, clinging to a strange, hard young man who had brought this spirit into her life. Who was he? Did she even like him? Did she blame him for her father’s death? No that was the fault of the Commander who had called her Father friend. She could not but hate him. And fear him, now she was running.
***
Marlin had been part of the Kah’Nath expedition to rouse the Nu’Marie from the lands around the Reather Tower. The tower had been raided and the Reather found broken in the woods along the Salt Road, the body of the female thief alongside it. Had the other thief killed her for the spirit, or at the spirits behest? That was what you would expect from an evil Marie spirit. Was the male thief the new Nu’Marie? Was he hiding in one of those villages or at large still in the forest? It wasn’t for Marlin to know. Marlin was there to run messages between the Commander and his team. But now he was running all the way home.
***
Ren and Hunter ran, and hid, and ducked, and crawled. Making sure no-one saw them. They crossed paths and moors and heath, away from any well travelled roads. Far, far away from the Kah’Nath towers. They ran, picking up food as they went, her archery skills bringing more vittals in than Hunter’s thieving. She found she was even running in her sleep but it wasn’t always her. Something or someone had come into her along with the spirit, she could see through their eyes, feel their heart race and the thoughts in their head. How could she run from this when it was inside her, had marked her with its Underly magic? When she remembered not only the horror of turning and seeing her home burn but battles and armies she’d never known? She ran.
***
To run was everything. Here he was running though the gates of Illin. Steady, each step the same, steady. Breath, step step, step, Breath. Feeling the muscles in his legs stretch and bunch and stretch again with each step. His lungs grab every ounce of air so his blood could pump it, thrilling around his body. Covering the ground along the mud track out of Illin, through the crossroads, to the old Iron Road and later back onto the well built and maintained New Road that ran North all the way to Landanill. The joy of the run was in him. To run was to live and live free.
***
Ren had stank of pigs muck, but she had to get past the young but efficient guard standing before the Smoke and Ember Tavern, where Hunter had gone to meet a man, who would take her to the Archivist and so free her of the Underly magic and Marie spirit. They ran again, this time in company with the silent, angry Tavern Owner Sol, towards the Gates of Greyridge Prison and Tinkers Bridge. And they ran from there, so much lighter in mind; she was still herself, whatever resided in her.
***
“Take a message to my Wife and my children that I cannot come home yet, this I do to protect them”. Carrying love and concern closer to the recipient with every step, Marlin ran. Would the Commander have finished his business and have started to head homeward before he reached Landanill? It didn’t matter, Marlin’s job was simply to run the message. He was running, it was everything, no-one would tell him what to do or how to think or what to say, not while he ran. He was free, this time was his, between that place and that place, he was himself and he was running.
***
Ren and Hunter ran over the Hills towards the ruins of Elder Hill and the Heretic’s Market. She looked out over the lands of South Felaxia. It was beautiful. You could see no armies up here, no dirt and mud of everyday life. She felt the clean air fill her lungs and felt free, soon to be even more free. She ran beside this self centred young man who had saved her life. Did she like him? Yes she thought she did. Did she know him? No, but that didn’t matter. They ran beside each other, for each other.
***
They ran, they ran for Justice, they ran for Truth, they ran for Freedom, they ran for Knowledge, they ran for the joy of it. They ran.