Child of Fear

Miranda moved through the tree tops, her feet barely touching them, with the reckless speed of the young. One older and wiser would have showed more caution. But than, Miranda wasn't known for having caution. The trees were large, towering over the wildlife below. They were old, old enough to make old men feel young. But when compared to those of her home they were saplings. Grand enough to make any human feel small.

Not that Miranda was human, no matter how human she looked. She had never been human. To her the term referred only to the savages who co-inhabited her adopted world. As far from where her people had originated as one world was from another.

None of this was on her mind at the moment, however. All she thought of was the pleasure she felt in flying through the branches at high speed. Of leaping from place to place, past the startled looks of many eyes. She leapt from branch to branch, never once faltering or looking down. She did not need to, for to her the branches were a road on which travel to the furthest depths of the land was possible.

She approached the Great Rift, a giant canyon like a great cleft in the land. Rough sided, it was easy for even a novice climber. Assuming they dared challenge its great height. The soil thinned as she neared the rim, with the result that the trees decreased in size and age. The edges of the rift were granite, as was the mass of the canyon itself. Looking over the canyon from one of the surrounding trees offered a spectacular vista to the viewer. Miranda loved to come see it. She visited it regularly. Her mother repeatedly warned her about going so far alone. But Miranda was a very independent girl.

She reached the rim, standing upon an oak branch. This view always afforded new articles for study, so she never lacked something interesting to see. She spotted a dark opening on the other side of the cleft, a hole from which eagles flew. Miranda smiled. Her people had a special fondness for eagles.

She wanted to see their nest better. She spotted an old pine nearby which would give her a better position relative to the hole. It was a dead tree, half tilted over the edge. In her eagerness, she failed to use the careful skills of observation her parents had instilled in her. She moved to an advantageous branch, failing to note it was chewed through by worms, not to mention too thin to hold her weight in any event. She stood upon it, steadying herself against the trunk. A moment passed. She heard a crack and realized what had happened. By then it was too late. She started falling and made a desperate attempt to grab hold of the trunk. The bark was just as worm eaten as the branch and came off in her hands.

She fell over the edge, screaming. Falling, her body turned upside down. She tried to grab something to slow her fall, but only succeeded in windmilling her arms. As she plummeted downward her right arm struck the edge of the cliff. A sickening numbness suffused it in an instant. By good fortune there was a ledge below the tree, so her fall wasn't lethal. However, it was far enough to knock her unconscious upon contact.

* * *

A man was moving through the woods not far from Miranda. He wore flea-infested rags and was not in the best state of health. He had managed to live as long as he had by his wits and by the talent of acquiring unconsidered trifles. He didn't have a name, not a permanent one. Indeed, he himself had long ago forgotten his given name and was now known only as The Rat. The appellation fit him quite well.