The King with Six Friends

Edge

"Mother of Pearl!"

Zar pulled up short. He listened, ears straining against the forest's silence. He had not seen anything- not even an animal for hours, but he could have sworn he'd heard someone curse. It could just be that he had been traveling alone for weeks and his mind was playing cruel tricks on him. He continued on the trail, ignoring it.

"Son of a- !"

There it was again, coming from his left. Zar pulled his sword from the scabbard. He pushed the underbrush out of his way.

He passed a tree stump, then another stump, then another. He entered an empty clearing of tree stumps with wood chips piled around their bases.

"Eeegh, Ouch!"

The voice had come from behind a half-chopped spruce.

"Who's there?" commanded Zar in a voice as masculine as he could muster.

He rounded the tree, giving it a wide berth. On the other side was an axe, lodged in its side, but no one else. He lowered his sword, confused. As he turned to go back to the trail, the voice came again:

"Help?"

The voice had come from the axe! Zar sheathed his sword, wondering how in the world an axe would be able to speak and shrugged off his pack. He gripped the handle and yanked. The blade was stuck deep within the tree. He wedged his foot against the trunk and pried it out.

With a sudden jolt, the axe sailed over his head as Zar tumbled head over heels. He landed on his head.

"Ow! Ahhh, that feels much better!"

Upside down, Zar saw a man, massaging the bridge of his nose with both hands. His close-cut hair was the same shade as flint. His clothes were patched from living outdoors. A broken hatchet handle hung tied to his belt.

"You were an axe!" cried Zar, still upside down.

The man seemed to just notice he was there. "Yeah, what about it?"

"That's not possible!"

"It is for me," the man sniffed. "Are you planning on standing on your head the entire time?"

Zar righted himself and jumped to his feet. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. "Witch!"

"Wrong, not a witch." The man stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes. "Try a Morpheos- or Morph, if that's too long."

"A- what?" stammered Zar.

"You obviously aren't from around here, are you?" The man held out a friendly hand to shake. "Name's Edge."

Zar considered shaking it for a moment before thinking twice. "I don't want any trouble," he said, backing away. 

Edge pulled his hand back and shrugged. "Neither do I. Where're you headed?"

This made Zar pause for a moment. Where was he going? When he'd set out, he never actually thought of where to go; he'd simply made a subconscious decision to keep walking until something happened to him. Where wasn't he going? Back to the East Kingdom, into the ocean to drown, off the trail to disappear. . .

"I- I guess I'm going south."

"South? It's dangerous if you don't know the terrain," said Edge, "It's usually safer to travel with someone."

Zar weighed his options. "I suppose I could use a travel companion."