Waiting for Spring - Part I

Chapter One

Home

-Carved wooden sign above Dylan and April's door, village in Berry Forest, Idwallia.

Yesterday she had been the daughter of Dylan the Hunter. Today she was April the Hunter. Finally free. No. She thought it would feel different. It did, just not as she had imagined it before. All those fairy-tales always got it wrong, somehow. Mayhap they did not aim for anything specific. It mattered little. She was happy, overwhelmed with joy and relief. All the skewed glances and whispered words of disapproval and content would disappear. Finally.

She had promised herself to never follow in her mother's footsteps, wherever that woman now resided. No, her father would was the one who had always been there for her. When she was just a girl and afraid of the dark he would always come and tuck her in, lay beside her until she fell asleep. When she said she wanted to be a hunter like him he had only smiled and nodded. Of course, sweetheart. He and Carwyn, the others she had proven wrong. She longed to see their faces, but most of all she longed for her bed.

Just a day from home. April threw the wolf pelt on the ground and straightened the bedroll. The stars would be her roof tonight, at least those she could see through the dense treetops of pines and firs. Soon it would get cold again. The chilly of the long winters of the north slowly returned. She wondered if there was anyplace warm all year around. Then I would move there. Even so, Berry Forest was her home. Home.

April stared at the pearls decorating the night sky. They watched her back. It didn't take long before she fell asleep underneath leathers and fur. She dreamt that night, about the hunt, about home, about her father, about magic and faraway kingdoms. She often dreamt of the latter, ever since she was just a child. Her father used to tell her stories about it, about cities surrounded by walls sky high and housing hundreds of thousands people, beasts that roamed the great seas, the ancient people and their long forgotten craft.

Back then, all those years ago, she hoped to see it all one day. A remnant of the time still remained in her, but now with the wanderlust in endless conflict with the comforts of home, the only one thing she had ever truly known and loved. One day.

A cascade of colours decorated the path home. It took her over a brook full of autumn leaves where she stopped to refill her waterskin, and then it meandered through a glade with grazing deer. She sat down with the dying flowers and enjoyed the sight for a brief moment. Carwyn had tried to ride one once, a large doe. He had ended up with a broken wrist. April couldn't help but to smile. After a while the deer departed from the glade and into the forest.

It was almost evening when she came out in between the old storehouse and mossy outpost tower. Home. She stopped and took a deep breath. Then she passed well and veered right past the drying racks. Carefully she opened the door. The familiar smell of herbs hit her. She could hear a cauldron above a fire and a man humming. She ran into the adjacent room and threw the pelt on the table. A wooden cup fell to the ground.

Dylan turned around startled. Then the surprise turned to a grin and his eyes filled with pride.

"April! You're home, and unharmed. I was so worried," he said as he embraced her. "You did it. I'm so proud, so so proud. My daughter, April the Hunter." She held her father tight, and he her. She had nothing to say, no words to describe her feelings.

The sunlight awoke her the next morning. The bow on the wall had always been the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes, the carvings in the wood glistening in the light. Dirty garments lay scattered on the floor. Bare feet reached for the floor. Tired legs carried her up. She tiptoed over garments scattered on the floor and scoured her dresser for a long juniper dress and a leather belt. The old comb lay beside the cracked mirror on her small vanity. She had always loved that feeling, the soothing teeth against her scalp.