The Lone Wanderer by Michael MortonSUMMARY: A short story set in an unnamed world, written for the November '09 Flash Fiction competitionChapter 1
It was almost midnight when the rain began in this dreary town I call, no- called, my home. The inns were still open and the drunken, foul-mouthed wretches that crowded around the bars still drank with an almost insatiable thirst. As I walked down the now-glistening side streets, I could hear the occasional glass shatter, a sure sign of a brawl, and the screaming of women from the drunken 'wasters' (as we call them here) grabbing their behinds. A dog ran through the market place, chasing some seemingly invisible cat, before slipping on the cobbles and crashing into a stall. The poor beast picked itself back up, and whimpered quietly in its humiliating defeat. This display caused me to grin in amusement – no common event.
Before long, I was stood outside the gates of that forsaken town, ready to depart on a journey I may never return from. A journey to uncharted lands, to places of myth, of legend and of folklore. After checking my sword was at my side, I took my first steps onto the road leading East, away from the salt air and port-towns of the coast, and towards the civilised countries with towers of gleaming white and their palaces of almost legendary size. The road would be long, lonely and unforgiving, yet I wasn't daunted. If I didn't leave now, I know I never would, and that would let that desire, that hunger, to wander the world consume me until I went mad. The walls of the town felt unnatural, they caused me no end of claustrophobic feelings, and I had to break free.
As I made my way, the rain waned before climaxing in a thunderous downpour, soaking me to the bone. My heavy cloak and hood did little to stop the water, nor did they offer me any warmth or protection from the chilling wind whistling down from the north. Pulling my cloak around me in a futile attempt to preserve heat, I slowly trudged along the muddy excuse of a road, focusing my thoughts on what may come in the near future.
Chapter 2
It was several days after my initial departure, and the sun shone weakly across the valley I'd found myself at the mouth of. I'd passed few towns and fewer villages in the past three days, something I would otherwise not notice, yet it seemed odd. Surely, on the relatively flat floor of the valley, farms should be in abundance? But all I could see were rivers and wild growth. Deciding it was best not to take the risk of marshland, I surveyed the land around me. No villages were in the vicinity, no taverns, not even a stray farm.
It was at this point that I realised the folly of my journey. I had no guide, no direction and more importantly, no aim. My adventure seemed to have ended soon after it started! Throwing my bag down in a fit of exasperation, I sat in the dew-laden grass and buried my head in my hands. The hunger for traveling was no more satiated than it was a year ago, and I'd been too hasty to rid myself of it. "Where was I to go?"; "Where would I spend the nights?"; "How would I know where I am?"; These questions filled my mind until I could take no more. I had to go somewhere, and then it hit me like that dog hit the market stall. I would go to the Eastern reaches of this land! I would visit the legendary palaces, walk through the fabled markets and maybe even visit the renowned whore-houses if that mood struck me.
Getting on my feet with a renewed vigor, I looked to the East, across that long, wide valley. I hoisted my bag across my shoulder, and smiled to myself as I walked into a new future, and more importantly, a new life. The desire to adventure will always burn within me, even now when I am grey and frail, but on that day, I ceased to hunger, and I filled myself with the glories of the world.
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