Cast Out at Blueberry Patch

Checkers lay in the back of the enclosed cart, crying, and trying to supress a sniffle. She tried to focus her mind on the hard task of survival that she had at hand, but there was too much time, and too few actions that she could take. The exercises of detachment were failing her, and her mind shifted back to brooding on the ceremony and all that it had meant. She felt to the depths of her soul that she was a good Glider, but the tears, the sniffling, and the inability to concentrate were just as searing a judgment on her character as the shortened spear. Thoughts of suicide and running away from the quest had entered her mind, but she rejected them. If she did not figure a way to get food, shelter, and protection in a hostile world, suicide was be unnecessary, and running away would be plunging to the depths of disgrace. If she faced her last task with honour, perhaps the good Lord of the Gliders would admit her as the lowest of servants into the Glider Havens.

Other thoughts distracted her. "Why me?" she thought, more than once. "Tibillin would mock parts of the Glider code, but never in front of the guides, and he was considered a solid asset to the community. Doubler was even worse at hunting than she was, but she managed to blend into the pack, and never get censured." And then she stopped, realizing that such thoughts were not going to help, and proved her unworthiness even more.

Checkers thought about asking the driver for the pouch, but due to the silence her status imposed on all Gliders, she would probably get no response. Thoughts of her father provided consolation of a sort. He had told her, in his visit when she was being held, that he still considered her part of the family, ceremony or not, and that he expected that she would meet her mother soon. She appreciated that fact that she was not an animal in his eyes, although as her mother had died giving birth to her, this also spoke to his lack of confidence in her ability to survive.

Part of her current problem with these distracting thoughts was that she had planned as well as she could. Get food, water, and shelter, hide from the animals, especially the thinking prey, and advance toward the dragon, and somehow try to find a way to kill it. There was not much more that she could think about until she was underway. She had one hope. She knew from the lore that the dragon would be vulnerable in the eyes, and its underbelly, although it would take far more than one stroke to do it in. The lore and records had also implied that other Glider communities existed at one time, even though this was generally disbelieved. If she could find an expedition, or even a few companions, perhaps she could join and contribute to the dragon's downfall.

One afternoon, about an hour after a couple of dried fish and some nuts had been thrown in the cart for her lunch, the cart had passed through Blueberry Patch. It was one of the sixteen cities, and had the usual plain, sturdy, stone dwellings and public buildings. The one distinguishing feature of the Patch was that it overlooked a great plain, with peach trees, a species that did not exist anywhere else in the RDL. The driver checked into a two-story building where the town patrol was headquartered. After pointing wordlessly to the cart, several members of the patrol stared at Checkers, and then one made some notes in a triptych. "They are checking my wing pattern, to identify me as ostracized," Checkers thought. She obliged by unfurling her wings, knowing what they wanted. The alternative of a forced unfurling was not only uncomfortable, but potentially dangerous, as a wing injury would make her ordeal that much more difficult.

The driver having completed his business with the patrol, the cart headed toward the west, following the sun. The rolling hills of Blueberry Patch fell away, the trees thinned, and bleak stretches of grassland loomed on the horizon. This land had little game and few trees, and was considered to be outside the range of the RDL. The driver wordlessly opened the cart, and set her belt down, not looking at Checkers directly. Checkers, placed the supporting strap holding the belt over her left shoulder, and allowed the leather pouch with the small items to settle on her right hip. She strapped a quiver that was attached to the belt on her back. She picked up the spear, and started walking towards the west. The driver mounted his horse and drove the cart toward the east. Checkers adventures in the Eveninglands had begun.

1. Checkers opens her pouch.

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