The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 2
Before the girl retreated, she gave Bishta one last pleading glance. The girl was no older than a decade and four and looked absolutely terrified. Bishta couldn’t decide if she was fearful for Bishta’s safety or for her own. She suspected that it was a bit of both. Bishta started to fear for the girl, but then remembered that if her quest was successful, the girl’s safety wouldn’t matter in the slightest. No one’s safety will matter in the end, not when I’m finished.
Bishta took her time and savored her food and coffee. She enjoyed the incredible feeling of the vegetable soup as the hot liquid poured down her throat. The coffee was good, not great, and was a little too bitter, but she was still thankful to be able to enjoy such a rare drink. Well, it wasn’t rare in cities like Ita-Ku and Al-Sevara, but out here in untamed lands, it was a luxury few could afford.
When he saw that Bishta had finished her meal, the skinny boy came back and picked up her plate, and she handed him ten copper coins as payment. He thanked her and insisted that she leave immediately. She intended to. She glanced one last time at the men as she walked through the door. They were all getting up.
Bishta didn’t get ten yards from the inn before she heard the door slam open, followed by the sound of two dozen heavy boots against the hard dirt ground.
“Where do you think you’re going, little miss?” asked a gruff voice from behind her. Bishta turned and faced the drunks. They all stared back at her, their eyes drunk and droopy, wicked smiles cut into their faces. A particularly fat man with a fat nose and fat cheeks and fat ears stepped forward.
“Yer a purty little lass, aren’t ye?”
Another man stepped forward. He was actually fairly handsome, but that didn’t lessen Bishta’s disgust for him. “Won’t you come and play with us a bit? It’d be dangerous for a girl like you to travel all alone.”
“Whoever told you that I was alone?”
The men suddenly looked nervous and started to look around in every direction. The handsome man spoke again, but this time with an uncertain tinge in his voice. “I don’t see anyone one else out here, miss.”
Bishta smiled wickedly and simply said one word, “Munla.”
The air behind her rippled and suddenly, her spirit companion Munla appeared before them all. The men shrieked with fear like little girls and recoiled from her. Bishta turned her back on the men and faced her friend. Munla was an immensely huge nature spirit from deep within the Spirit Wilds in the South. He was half the height of the inn and nearly as wide. His round body could destroy anything in its path if he picked up enough speed.
She rubbed his large mossy stomach. “Greetings, friend.”
“Ush culla tor nalasha?”
“No, it’s okay. I just need you to look all scary.” Bishta faced the men one last time. “Don’t try to follow me. Munla will be watching.”
She didn’t wait to hear their response. She turned and walked boldly forward, her grip on her cold iron staff tighter than it should have been.
That night, Bishta came to the Galvine Road, and the following day, she found the coast.
It was sunny and warm and Bishta loved it. She loathed the cold. Her feet were thankfully nice and hot as she walked along the dirt road. Did she need shoes? Probably, but she’d gone her whole life without them, and she could manage to keep going just the same. Besides, her feet were tough, so they could handle most of the abuse she put them through.
To her left was an endless forest with leaves of brown and orange. To her right was the ocean and the Red Cliffs, so named for the color of the rock, and for the fact that many men had died upon the sharp rocks below.
It took her another couple days of walking before the endless sea on the horizon gave way to land, the continent of Paralea—a densely-forested land dominated by the Forest of the Forgotten, a wild place where humans didn’t go. Civilized humans at least. There were human tribes scattered through the continent, but they were far outnumbered by the spirits that dwelt within.
Bishta scowled. Spirits, humans; she didn’t care for either.
Paralea and Halla, the land she currently walked, met at one singular spot, a very narrow strait that cut between the two continents. Paralea was a tall, rocky place on all sides, just sheer cliffs all around, so the only feasible ways to access it were to fly in on a dragon, which wasn’t recommended, or cross the Bridge of Memories.
And for regular humans, both were near impossible, because an ancient confusion ward shrouded the entire continent. People that tried to enter became confused and wondered what they were doing there, so they’d turn around. Hence why Paralea was still shrouded in mystery. Of course, being a sage, Bishta wouldn’t have that trouble.
Eventually, the Galvine Road curved back north toward the Halendales and Ita-Ku, so she had to make her way through the dirt paths that led to the southern point of Halla and the Bridge of Memories.
It was sunset when she arrived.
She stood upon the cliffs, the sheer red surface dropping straight down to churning, choppy waters, crags of rocks jutting dangerously out of the surf. Just south of where she stood was the opposing cliff face of Paralea, and the immediate wall of spruce and pines that stood vigil over the cliffside. It