“Oh, please Mom!”

The teenage boy’s begging merited only a heavy sigh from his mother as she continued to grind the flour. “I don’t know. It’s bound to be dark soon.”

“Not at least for a couple of hours! And besides, I won’t go too far.”

“Seriously, Landon, you’re sounding like a child. You’re fifteen.”

“I’ll be back before dinner, I promise.”

His mother let out another sigh. She looked straight into Landon’s blue eyes. “What are the rules?”

Landon, excited that he had gotten permission so late in the day, began to stumble on his words as he recited the list that his mother had permanently engraved in his head.

“No fighting, stay far, far away from the city and come back before it gets dark.”

“And if you see a Tipotan?”

“A what,” Landon asked quizzically.

“A human,” his exasperated mother clarified.

“Come on Mom, nobody has seen a human around here for--”

“And if you see a human?” his mother repeated.

“And if I see a human,” Landon said, rolling his eyes, “I will run away.”

“Be back before dinner,” his Mom reminded him.

A large smile appeared on Landon’s face. “I will, thanks, Mom!”

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do in such a short time,” Landon overheard his mother mutter as he pushed opened the reed door. He broke into a quick run immediately after it shut behind him. If he was going to make it there and back in time, he would have to run very quickly, as fast as his legs could bring him.

He nearly stumbled as he quickly dashed down Wellingham Hill, leaving his hut behind at the top. On he went, grabbing onto, and narrowly avoiding, thick spruce trees so that he would not fall on his decline. Halfway down the hill, he reached out to grab a firm branch only to realize he had done so a fraction of a second too late. He began to feel his momentum moving too far forward and realized he was about to stumble into a thick thorn bush.

In one swift motion he swung his arm forward, causing a burning flame to emit from his hand. Immediately the thornbush in front of him was reduced to ashes. Instead of flying into the prickly thorns he rolled over twice, followed by his momentum halting completely when he collided with a large log. Wincing, he got back up and continued to descend, being a bit more cautious the rest of the way down.

But getting down was the easy part. After he had crossed the valley, he would have to hike up a steep hill, that was many times higher than the previous one. At the top was a large oak tree, with thick firm branches branching out in all directions. A perfect tree  for him to climb. Keeping his eyes on the hill in front of him, he crossed a brook surrounded by wildflowers. He prayed that he wouldn’t pick up any ticks, for surely, his mother would get mad at him.

This place is pretty, I guess, Landon figured as he ran his hands through the colorful arrangement of blossoms. And indeed it was; anyone who would have stumbled across this valley would have been astonished at its view. However, Landon had travelled through here so many times, that he had lost his sense of wonder for the place.

But after a while the flowers were replaced with rocks, some of them bigger than Landon himself. By this point, Landon had begun his steep ascent on the Great Hill. Grabbing hold of branches he would pull himself forward with each tree he passed, all the while surveying his surroundings, taking notice of all the little landmarks that he had named himself. The Woodpecker Tree, Myers’ Rock, Magpie’s Nest, Witch’s Tree, each one with its own little story attached to it.

He had been venturing into the lands of Gibba as far as he was able to recall. At an age where it was considered dangerous for him to be out adventuring alone, if he had gotten lost, the darkness would have brought Valley Wolves - twice as fast as Landon and some twice his weight.

Not that they would have been a problem. With a few simple, swift movements of his arms he could literally reduce them to ashes. Ever since he was born, he had been blessed with  substantial magic power. Anything that could be in his way he’d dispose of without a hitch. But he had to be careful. “Don’t want to set the whole forest one fire,” he noted as he heaved himself upon onto a large rock and jumped off to the other side. He didn’t know the time but knew he had enough left as the sun had not yet begun to meet the horizon.

The leaves and outreaching branches of the Great Oak Tree came to sight before the top of the hill. The tree itself was at least eighty feet tall, the highest viewpoint that Landon had ever ascended. Once at the base of the tree, with a grunt and a small jump he took hold of the lowest branch and hauled himself on top. Up he went,  navigating upwards and through the branches with ease, as he had done many times before. In a few minutes, he had scaled nearly the entire tree. The last few meters he shimmied up into the highest fork of branches, at least the highest one that was safe for him to sit on.

Perching atop the Great Oak Tree he looked out at the distant horizon. If he was fortunate with a clear day, he would be blessed with a clear view of the entire landscape out west, able to see anything  for miles upon miles of distance. Lucky for Landon, today was one of those days.

Despite that his view of mountains in the North and the outskirts of the forests in the South, Landon hardly gazed at these amazing sights as his main focus lay nearly direct east. The one place that Landon would never dare visit, even if he had no mother to constantly nag him concerning his whereabouts. The one place that his mother consistently warned him to avoid. The City.

It was as small as Landon’s hand from this distance, but he could tell that it was massive in scale. Its daunting, reflective towers were clearly visible from miles away. In the heart of the city was a round flat structure, big enough in size for Landon to identify. Its appearance was quite smooth, which made it stick out like a sore thumb in the city.

Landon gazed at the city from the branches with passionate imagination. Thousands of people lived there, all going about their lives in a great hustle and bustle of activity. It would be loud, cramped and busy, a lifestyle much different from what he was accustomed to.

He had spent his entire life, living atop Wellingham Hill, always taking for granted the quiet and placid lifestyle. He could barely see his neighbours, even from the top of the hill that he lived on. The forest was untamed, and the weather was usually nothing to complain about. Nothing really ever happened.

But Landon wanted something to happen. He chased after adventure. He was nearly sick of living the same repetitive life ever since birth. He was through with being restricted by his overwhelming mother and her overwhelming rules. Despite what she continually told him, when he grew up, he would visit that city. Live in that city. Be a part of that city, for the rest of his days. The city was freedom, the city was adventure, the city was the lifestyle he had always wanted, even if he knew little about it.

Landon yanked himself out of his daydreams. He could not be here much longer, for it would be dark soon and he would have to repeat the trek back home. Not wanting to be nagged by his mother, he hesitantly began to descend the Great Oak Tree, thinking of how amazing it would be to live in such a great city.

“Nothing ever happens,” he told himself. The city had things to do and people to meet.

He could tell from atop the tree that the sun was beginning to set and he would have to hurry if he didn’t want to get lost. He landed on the ground with a small thump and began his downhill climb of the Great Hill, carefully selecting secure footholds as his descent would be a long and painful way down, especially with the jagged boulders dotting the landscape.

The trek back home was full of thoughts and imagination of the city. He could picture the main cobblestone road with its share of vendors in the marketplace, merchants setting up shop, people carrying baskets filled with their daily food and checking out the stalls to purchase whatever caught their fancy. Although he imagined it to be busy, he also saw it as peaceful, with children running through the streets, dodging this way and that to avoid horse-drawn carts and adults while their parents shouted at them angrily from the side of the road. Branching off the main roads were several smaller ones, which were lined with strong wooden doors  separating residences from the outside world. These narrower streets were not near as busy with the occasional person leaving coming and going to and from their homes routinely in the direction of the main street.

Beginning his ascent to his home hill, he couldn’t wait for when he was old enough to make the lengthy trek. “Probably eighteen or nineteen,” he figured. At that age he was sure his mother would let him go on longer trips. If he was lucky she would even let him live on his own. Without the persistent supervision of his mother, he could do pretty much anything he wanted, besides setting the whole forest ablaze. If anyone was around they would have seen his eyes blaze with anticipation.

Unfortunately for Landon, he would be in the city much sooner than he thought, and with a much scarier perspective on the mysteries it contained.