The Journey Begins
The Egren River was like a barrier to Eyla. She had never crossed it before; in fact she had never even given it thought. It was true that they did fish in it but that was further up river, closer of the Wood of Herfed which was still in their own portion of land. Eyla hesitated at the banks of the Egren.
“I know this is hard for you,” Soriah said, “Once you cross here you know that you can’t really return to the Berserker Clan. In fact I dare say, you may not want to.” Eyla grinned a tense grin.
“I am excited,” she said truthfully, “It’s just that outside the clan, people usually don’t like berserkers.”
Soriah smiled, “Then you may change their minds Eyla. Where we are going, they have never had a berserker before.”
“Where is it that we are going?” Eyla asked.
Soriah shrugged, “I am not sure exactly, but it is far. I believe that we may have to go all the way to the Waste Plains of Writhia.”
Eyla’s jaw dropped. “The Waste Plains!” she exclaimed, following after Soriah who had begun to walk along the bank, “Do you know how far that is?” S
oriah laughed, “Across the Krogas Mountains,” she said easily. A small river side village came into view. “We’ll take a boat to get to the other side,” Soriah said, “Then on through the Giril and then the Fylian River and through Molvn. We should get some horses there and then go to Writhia.” They walked into the village and made their way to the port. “We need a boat to get across,” Soriah said. The man looked at her in amazement. He knew that she was blind but like always Soriah moved about as if she had her sight. A slight sneer came over the man’s face.
“My boat is expensive,” he said, “It’s is worth a high price.”
“I’ll try another place,” Soriah said easily. But no one would give a reasonable price. Eyla was slowly fuming. They stood at the river bank looking at the other side; so close yet so far. The boatmen were watching them grinning. Eyla looked back and then a brilliant idea hit her.
She spoke softly to Soriah, “The bank is not that far. I can make it.” Soriah frowned.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Eyla grinned, “It is time for this Berserker to stop running. I have a right to enjoy the world and to live in it freely.” She looked back at the Boatmen, “We thank you for you kind offers,” she called cheerfully, “But we will take the other option.” The men looked at her confused.
“What other option?” they called back. She turned away and held Soriah firmly about the waist.
“Now my mother’ she said, “Let me show you what it feels like to be a Berserker.”
Soriah nodded. And Eyla breathed in and out deeply and released her rage. The world burst into blue and she took one step toward the river. The river rushed at her. Her incredible speed carried her across as if the river was solid ground her feet just tapping the water’s surface, leaving gentle ripples. Soriah gasped and gripped her arm. The bank was reached in a matter of seconds. The boatmen were looking openmouthed at them. Eyla waved at them as the world faded back into color. Soriah was still gripping her arm. “Eyla,” she whispered, “That was wonderful.”
“It always is,” Eyla said hugging the woman, “I am glad I could give you back something from my world since you have given me so much of yours.” Soriah nodded back at her and then took in a deep breath.
“Now that we have crossed that. Let’s get going. The Giril should not be far.”
Eyla smiled broadly, a strange exhilarating feeling flooding through her, as they began to walk to the Giril. Soriah may be right, when this was all over, she may never want to return to the Berserker clan.