The World Outside The Shell

Chapter 2

In the early morning hours, I found reached the open the water and looked for shelter. I noticed a stone tower in the distance, on a small island.

The ominous flashes of lightning in the distance convinced me to swim in the open water and hide in the relative shelter of high sweet-grass, until I reached the island.

I heard voices and noticed the same group approach, led by the woman in the green robe, holding the staff high.

I sensed the group was following my trail.

In a high-pitched roar of frustration, the woman holding the staff chanted a command. The rain suddenly stopped.

I found the courage to approach, stunned by the power on display.

The woman in the green robe slammed the base of the staff to the ground and pointed in my direction as lightning formed into a ball in a raised hand.

I considered my options.

The air flashed with a bright glow, I my small legs refused to move. I rolled down a muddy slope above a river and fell into the current.
In time, I reached tall sweet-grass and open waters of the marshlands.

The climb onto dry land, and frantic race across the marshlands filled me with a surprising sense of adventure. I decided on the goal of hiding in a tall stone structure on a small island. I found a small opening near the waterline.

The strongest member of the group, when considering the intimidating appearance of his muscle mass and strong features, was a short bald man in a green robe.

I watched the man swim across the open water, despite the weight of his armor, climb onto the island with the effortless stomps of his large bare feet, scale the outer stairs to an opening large enough for his wide frame to squeeze into the tower, drop-down, and hunt.

The man found me in the shelter, picked me up and stuffed me into a cloth sack, laughing the whole time. “Lady Ri! The turtle found the ruins of a lookout tower.”

Did the shock from the attack change or the silver light give me the power to understand the language?

I understood the variation of the language he tried, a slower tone of voice.

The man said, “Turtle. I am Venn, the finest hunter in the kingdom.”

I could not imagine how to respond. I was a turtle.

Venn was pleased. “Unusual markings. I will look for signs of a map in the patterns on shell. I have a good feeling.”

The woman in the green robe held the staff close and watched the skies.

Venn tried to comfort his friend. “The old mystic is gone, lost in the infinite depths of the temple. I told you the mission to find the staff was a bad idea.”

The response was in a female voice, like a monotone chant. I understood her continued mentions of the name Venn and watched the reaction of the short man.

Venn rocked in place and appeared concerned. “Yes, I think he found the door to another world, a place without time, but the skies are dark. I insist on finding a safer place to camp, perhaps in the northern hills.”

I realized the group needed me, and I tried to rest, while still on alert for danger.

In time, the conversation drifted into long pauses of silence, until the short man said, “I’m hungry, should we eat the turtle for dinner?”

Venn reached out and placed the shell into an empty cloth sack, laughing and describing his recipe for turtle soup.

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