Walking the Ruins

A hangover, and a decision

I leave the shore and walk uphill into the forest.

The drinking last night and the early rise today might not have been good ideas. Pain pounds my head with every step I take, and I clench my teeth to fight the nausea constricting my throat. Whenever the bright sunlight pierces the canopy above, it hammers my retina—and the last remnants of my brain—with fiery photons or whatever. 

The misgiving screech of the birds grates my nerves.

Kevin's firewater must contain ingredients much less wholesome than alcohol.

I'm close to throwing up yesterday's dinner when I reach a group of ruins. They look like an old factory or warehouses built from elements of a gray material with streaks of rust. A jumble of walls, caved-in roofs, and broken glass. But there's one building that still has a recognizable ground floor and doorway. Without hesitation, I enter it and find a flight of stairs leading down into the basement. Gratefully I head for the darkness it promises, away from the glaring brightness of the day.

I don't bother to light a torch and stumble through the gloom, finding a spot to rest, firm in my decision never to venture out into daylight again.

When I wake up, my mouth is dry as a desert and my tongue has grown a fur. My head is still aching, but I realize that my ability for coherent thought has returned.

Shit!

... this is my first coherent thought.

What the hell has come over me this morning?

... and this is my second coherent thought.

Quickly, I roll up the sleeping bag I have slept on and strap it onto my pack. I place the pack on my back and climb the stairs, only to discover that the light outside is still way too bright. But I force myself to face it, fighting back my nausea. As I leave the building, I stop and try to get my bearings. The direction towards the lake must be the one downwards, so that's where I go, heading for the shore.

I hope I'll catch the others before they leave.

Soon, I get glimpses of the castle among the trees, and it is easy to find the place where I tied the boat in the morning.

It has disappeared.

Steve must have taken a bath to retrieve it.

I look out over the lake, hoping to see him and Jenny paddling away, still within hailing distance, but there's nothing. Just the waves rippling the surface of the water, indifferent to the mix of anger and guilt that fills me.

I sit down on what probably used to be a reinforced shore section of the lake. 

What am I to do now?

I overreacted this morning. No doubt about that. But what Steve said, yesterday evening, the way he treated me... I'm neither his servant nor am I a troubadour to please their majesties.

Still, I do wonder where they have gone now. Either they have continued with the expedition, and they are now paddling their way towards the valley. Or they have turned back and are on their way home.

It would be great to have them sitting beside me now. Like yesterday, on the boat. Swapping plans, sharing companionship.

But, instead, I'm here alone.

All alone.

With kilometers of wilderness surrounding me, weighing in on me. 

The sun has crossed its zenith, hence it must be in the afternoon. If I start my way back along the lake now, westwards, I could be with Kevin and Rose by tomorrow evening, or maybe the day after that.

But they would certainly want to know why I'm alone. Well, I could say that I just left them... This does not ring like a cool answer.

I look east, over the lake and on towards the valley. The mountains are so close, just a few hours' walk from where I am. 

I've never been so far away from our home. Never been so close to where that smoke came from.

The others would worry if I don't return, if they don't know where I am. But so what. I did not care. I'd rather go exploring. They can worry as much as they want.

For the first time on a rotten day, I am grinning.

Curiously, I study the valley, searching it for signs of the smoke, for a sign that this quest is more than a ghost hunt. Searching it for answers.

I long for them, for the answers. This world must hold more than ruins, more than bears, and more than just the five of us.

This cannot be all. This cannot be it.

The place where the smoke rose must be where the replies are waiting.

I gaze into the valley. A wide, flat expanse between mountains that turn gray in the distance.

No smoke is in sight.

But I didn't dream it, and nothing will stop me from finding its source. 

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.

Not an original quote, I know, but I like it.

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A/N

Our friend Leona is now walking confidently into the second part of this story. If you want, you are welcome to come along and to share her adventures, ramblings, and feelings.

I have lots of fun writing this, and I do hope you enjoy it, too. If yes, feel free to leave a little vote or comment to tell me about it ...

;-)