I want to be free

The light breeze ruffles the trees’ leaves and the smell of fresh summer air filled with the scent of flowers as well as dry grass and a subtle hint of moist forest floor is carried with it. A group of five is just leaving the shaded forest path and the sun shines with no clouds in sight. The sky is almost annoyingly brightly blue and the mood in the group is joyful. Their steps are light as if the bags on their backs don’t weigh a thing despite looking stuffed to the brim and their gear, weapons and shields, are nothing but decoration.

A young man and a beautiful woman are leading the troupe. Obviously, they are a couple the way they glance at each other lovingly. Touching hands from time to time as if they needed to confirm their partner was still there. The familiarity between them is almost annoyingly sweet. The other three are trailing behind slightly. There is some jealousy written on two faces looking at the loving couple, but it’s all blown away as soon as the couple addresses them. The fifth person looks out of place as if he was an afterthought. His clothes are slightly too big while the rest of the group has perfectly tailored robes. The light brown hair seems dull compared to the shining flowing locks and hairdos. While the stature is as muscular and well trained as the rest of the group, he is shorter and almost walks with a slumped back as if he doesn’t want to draw any attention to him.

“Olaf, why are you so quiet?”

The young leader turns around, oblivious to the yearning gaze the blond woman next to Olaf throws him. Instead, he smiles brightly at Olaf who looks uncomfortable being addressed out of the blue. First, he just blinks, then he frantically looks around and seems to listen carefully before finally answering.

“I’m just a bit worried … hm … about our last mission. It all went quite smoothly and …”

Again, his eyes dart quickly in different directions and his right hand closes tightly around the hilt of his sword. This time the cheerful female next to her companion slows down a bit, concern showing on her face. Immediately the leader grabs her hand and shoots a strict look at the shortest member of their group. But the gaze has no effect as the young man is distracted, cocking his head as if he could hear something. Now everyone is stopping in their tracks. This makes Olaf almost bump into Synthia, the blond woman who had just been a few steps in front of him.

“We don’t have to stop. I just wanted …”

Olaf’s voice trails off once again but this time it’s because it happened again. His companions have completely frozen. So have the moving trees, the birds and insects. There is no wind gently ruffling the grass and no subtle chirping of birds. There is complete silence. It’s ominous and Olaf’s skin is covered in goosebumps despite the temperature being the same as before. He takes a few steps back, waiting.

Then it begins. The transformation. His companions’ bags and gear change within the blink of an eye. Miran’s sword turns into an axe. Leandra’s brown bag is green with brown specks. Synthia’s hair, previously tied up in a topknot, is now braided and wrapped around her head and Solan’s shield just completely disappears.

Olaf looks around, trying to see the sorcerer who is able to freeze time. The sorcerer who can make changes as if it was nothing. An all-powerful being. The last few weeks Olaf had noticed these episodes when everyone but him stopped moving. At first, he had thought he was dreaming or was under a spell. The first time it had happened when his party was fighting a powerful fae. It had been a losing fight when all of a sudden everyone but him had frozen. In the end they had won the fight despite Miran being gravely injured and Leandra having lost her power to heal.

Now, Olaf is looking around, scanning the suddenly grey sky for a sign of this powerful being. There is no sign of anybody though and to his horror this time Olaf witnesses how even his friends’ facial features change. Miran’s previous short nose grows longer and a scar appears over Synthia’s eyebrow, ending under her suddenly dark hair which is now also lanced with white streaks.

“Who are you?! Show yourself! Stop changing everything!”

His voice is being swallowed as if they were trapped in a small overgrown cave. Trying again Olaf puts all his force into his voice but to the same result.

“Just stop it! Leave my friends alone!”

This time his voice is carried over the plains and isn’t swallowed up. Instead he is shouting in Miran’s face who takes a step back, bumping into Synthia who looks confused but also pleased about the body contact.

“I … What are you talking about? Am I not your friend?”

The icy voice makes Olaf’s throat feel parched. Thoughts are jumbling in his mind, and he can’t catch any of them to voice his defense. Instead, he starts to stammer and while Synthia only smirks, Solan rolls his eyes. Miran has changed over the last weeks and Olaf is preparing to defend himself while checking the leader’s expression for any sign of his anger flaring up. Only Leandra looks worried and it’s her touch which calms down Miran whose eyes had grown dark.

“Maybe we could all need a break, right? Olaf, your bag looks quite heavy. Let me help you with it.”

Sitting around the campfire Olaf pokes the burning logs with a stick, mesmerized by the red flames and hoping that either the sorcerer is going to show himself soon or give up interfering with his friends.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

It’s Leandra who sits next to him while the other party members have avoided him since his outburst this afternoon. With only a small nod he accepts the flatbread which is quite stale by now. They bought it at the last village and after his first bite Olaf is almost elated that it doesn’t taste moldy. His own rations tend to get stale or turn bad faster than his friends’. Even if he hasn’t seen it Olaf suspects that it’s the sorcerers doing as well.

“About this afternoon … I’ve talked to Miran and the others. He says it might be time that we part ways.”

Hearing their decision stings and Olaf focusses on chewing the bread hoping that his disappointment doesn’t show on his face. They have been together for so long. The party has long replaced his family.

“But … don’t worry. If you want to stay with us, I’ll talk to the others. I actually don’t mind …”

“Don’t bother. I’m sorry about today. Hm … maybe the last weeks.”

To his surprise Leandra puts a hand on his thigh and it’s the first time in a long while the two of them have been talking to each other without Miran’s or Solan’s interference.

How strange. I thought we were always quite close. I remember …

Trying to follow this thought Olaf realizes that he doesn’t remember. Just like the foggy, elusive memory of a real family and hometown he doesn’t recall how he met Leandra. The only thing he’s sure about is that they had known each other for a long time. Following this feeling of slowly losing his mind he looks at Leandra.

“Did you always have curly hair?”

The question escapes him when he hears it being swallowed up again. Frantically he looks around, sees that the dancing flames have stopped their performance and also the mumbling which had come from the other party members has stopped. Leandra looks at him with her honey-colored eyes and then in an instance they turn green, then brown and finally settle on a light grey.

To prove to himself that he is not losing it, Olaf pokes Leandra’s face which is still warm to the touch, but when he tries to ruffle her hair, it is as if he’s touching air.

“Don’t interfere! I need to make changes!”

There is a voice, feminine but strict and Olaf jumps up, looking around to see the sorceress.

“Stop it! They are my friends. They …”

“They want to throw you out of the party, and you still call them friends. You’re quite loyal. I don’t remember ever describing you like this.”

“What do you mean by that? Of course I am a loyal friend. We have been together for so long!”

There is a pause and then Olaf can hear a snort followed by a giggle. This giggle sends shivers down his spine. It’s full of mockery and Olaf feels how his heartbeat speeds up. Again, his throat is dry and the thoughts keep spinning. There is no way for him to defend himself as he can’t find his voice.

“I tell you what. If you can answer my question, I will leave your friends be …”

There is something else the voice says but Olaf can’t quite catch it and right now he doesn’t care. If he has the chance to stop the changes he will do anything for his friends. Clearing his throat, he looks up where he suspects the sorceress to be hiding. It’s still the dead of the night and all he can see is the dimly lit sky and a few stars. There is no moon visible today even though Olaf is sure that he had seen the full moon rise in the late evening.

“I will do it. Tell me the question.”

“Oh, quite brave. How could I have forgotten about you. Brave and loyal. The forgotten member of the group. Maybe …”

“Stop with the gibberish. Just ask your question.”

Olaf doesn’t understand a word the sorceress is saying but just like Leandra’s words the words sting and there is a tiny voice in his head which tells him not to bother. The group will cast him aside as soon as they reach the next village. Why should he bother about his friends’ fate if they so clearly don’t care about him.

No, I can’t think like this! This is the work of the spell the sorceress has cast. I need to be steadfast. Leandra still believes in me.

“Don’t be so impatient. We have all the time in the world as long as I don’t decide otherwise.”

The confidence in the voice is audible, and Olaf has to admit that she has to be quite powerful to keep a spell like this for so long. Even Synthia would start to show signs of exhaustion if she needed to keep an illusion up for longer than a few minutes. And this sorceress had the whole world around her stop in its tracks.

Another wave of unease hits him and despite the wish to help his friends the confidence which he had shown earlier starts to crumble.

“The question!”

To his relief his voice doesn’t falter or tremble. With a stern look he stares up into the sky. Despite trying to ooze confidence he immediately hears a chuckle again, followed by a sigh.

“It’s a bit sad, you know. I really shouldn’t have neglected you. You are quite a useful source of amusement. Maybe I can …”

“Stop it and ask your question.”

“Oh, impatience is in the mix as well. Well, there is actually one last thing which I have to ask you. What will happen if you get the answer wrong? What are you willing to give up?”

“Everything! I’m putting everything on the line. My life! Just leave my friends alone.”

There is a pause. An ominous pause and Olaf is expecting a chuckle or a sarcastic comment but there is only silence. Looking around the campsite, he assures himself that the spell hasn’t been broken. The fire is still not crackling, and Leandra is looking at him with her now greyish eyes.

“Ok. It’s a deal. If you get the answer right, I will leave your friends alone. If you can’t answer the question, you will vanish. Do you agree?”

The seriousness in her voice makes his heart beat faster again. It had calmed down with the banter and Olaf has to admit that he had almost enjoyed talking to her. It was the first real conversation he had had in ages. The stakes are high and there is a knot forming in his stomach. Vanishing sounds more serious than just dying. But his friends keep on changing. Not only their appearances but their personalities. Easy quests become almost deadly missions.

“I agree.”

He’s almost shouting and it feels as if his heart is beating in his throat. It’s usually Miran or Leandra who take the risks. He’s in the background, supporting, holding back small fry while the others take care of the big bad guys. Now is his time to shine even if his friends will never know about it.

“Well then … here’s your question. What is your family name?”

The strong wind bends the tree branches and there is the smell of an oncoming storm in the air. On the horizon Leandra can see the first outlines of a village. If they keep up their pace, they will reach the settlement by nightfall but most probably not before the summer storm will completely drench them. The group’s steps are heavy as if the gear they are carrying weighs more than the small bags lead on.

There are four people in the group. Miran next to her, leading the troupe. Leandra shoots him a careful glance and looks over her shoulder. Solan and Synthia are just a few steps away, both of them looking gloomy and Leandra gets a strange feeling. Her eyes scan the area beyond the two other companions as if they were expecting someone else to be there. Not paying attention to the uneven path she stumbles and Miran looks at her, pulling the corners of his mouth downwards. His hand is there to support but Leandra tries to push it away.

“What’s wrong?”

The feeling of something being amiss doesn’t relax its grasp. The grip now almost being painful. So, Leandra only shakes her head and with some force her arm escapes his hand. Red burning marks are left on her skin reminding her to be careful around Miran.

“It’s nothing.”

But Miran has never been patient or kind. Her weak answer just seems to spur him on to dig further. To Leandra’s dismay Synthia now chimes in.

“If there is something wrong, just tell us. You know, we always trust your sixth sense.”

It’s a snide remark and a thrust to Leandra almost getting them killed in the fight against the fae. The group grows impatient. Even Solan giving her a confused look. Someone she always thought to be on her side is now starting to doubt her. Leandra suddenly feels cold and it isn’t connected to the wind blowing stronger. Next to the cold there is nothing but a feeling of uneasiness and the sadness of having forgotten something important. One more time she glances around, looking for another pair of eyes. A calming presence. But despite the dark horizon towering over them like an undefeatable wall makes her sigh in resignation.

“I’m just … hm … no, forget it. Maybe we could all just need a break.”