When day broke three hours later, Zand’s nerves were shot. Every little sound had set him on edge. He ate a large breakfast and washed it down with an entire flask of water. He then gathered together dried rations for two more days of travel and water for three days, as he knew the extra weight would make him thirstier than normal. Once he had his food and water in place, he proceeded to pick up Tink’s sack of implements and Clink’s pack of components. That was about all he could carry, and even this seemed pushing it. He lifted his hood over his head and neck and set off toward Must.
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On the second day of his trek back, Zand came across a jagged landscape. They had originally gone around it, as the likelihood of snagging their gear on a sharp rock seemed too high. But now that he was alone, he wondered if he might be able to float over the tops of the rocks and save himself considerable time. He decided to stop and have some food and water first beforehand. The rest would focus his mind and allow his to maintain the necessary concentration.
Securing his gear, Zand stood facing the outcropping of rocks. He raised his head just so while breathing deep and envisioning himself growing lighter. Slowly he floated up, until he was higher than the rocks closest to him. Satisfied, he willed himself forward. The uneven ground caused his travel to be similarly bumpy. It was only somewhat better than climbing over the rocks on foot. Looking around, he saw a gap that he could safely land in and moved toward it before descending.
Zand remembered the giant flame and wondered if he could similarly charge his floatation spell. He closed his eyes and let the magic build in him until his skin startled to tingle. He then went through the normal motions and shot up several feet. Moving forward, he found the topography below him did not seem to interfere with his elevation.
“Excellent!” Zand exclaimed to himself.
Zand made his way toward the far end, enjoying the growth of his powers. About halfway across he he started to descend. It was so gradual that he didn’t notice. The suddenly he fell sharply, like a bird struck in flight by an arrow. He tried to remain aloft, but managed only to slow himself somewhat before scraping along the rocks below. He finally came to a complete stop when he slammed into the side of a small boulder.
Zand tried to comprehend what happened, but fell unconscious before it all sunk in.
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When he finally came to, the sun was setting. Zand checked his body for injuries and found nothing to be broken, but he was covered in lacerations and bruises. The twins’ packs were torn, the containers inside smashed, and their contents mixed. Thankfully the bombs needed fire to explode, but it still sent a chill down his back thinking of what could have happened if they didn’t. As it was, he was now carrying two large bombs. Despite how valuable the components might have been, he would not carry them back now. He kept rummaging around and finally found a small first aid kit. It contained some bandages and a broken bottle of what was once an antiseptic.
“To the seven hells with this!” Zand screamed, hurling the broken bottle into the distance.
He removed the straps from his shoulders and set the bags away from himself. He looked down at his clothes and saw he had assorted powders all over him, potentially the right mixture to explode if he was near a fire. Dusting himself off, Zand resigned himself to a cold and dark night. He couldn’t afford to explode any time soon.
Zand removed the outer bandages and threw them away in case of glass shards. He used half of his water to rinse his assorted wounds, and then dressed them as well as he could with the rags. He hoped they wouldn’t become infected, but knew he should try to get to town as soon as possible and be treated. He stood, which caused his body to scream in protest. He attempted to float, but it caused too much strain on his body to tap into the magic. It was getting too dark to see well enough to navigate the field of stones, so he did his best to get comfortable and slept.
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Zand woke the sensation of insects crawling all over his body. He jumped up, despite the pain, and began swatting at his body. There was sufficient moonlight to show that there were indeed ants swarming over his body and along the drt. He clammered onto a rock, and removed his clothing entirely. He managed to brush the remaining ants off and stood there, naked, watching the colony march by.
It took an hour for their procession to pass. His nerves remained on edge and sleep would not come soon. He shook out his clothing and inspected closely before dressing again. He tried to call on the magic, which came, but caused his wounds to itch immediately. Sighing, he tried to sit, but found none of rocks’ surfaces welcoming. He did not wish to be on the ground again until he could again clearly see. He would stand until morning.
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Zand awoke still standing. He was unsure when he fell asleep, or even how, but it clearly happened. He got down from the rock and retrieved his flask of water. The ants had found and eaten the remaining food in the bags, as well as a good portion of the components. He imagined the ants wandering too near a campfire and popping like fireworks at new year. He laughed to himself at the image.
Zand tried to float. It caused pain, but it was manageable. He rose a few feet and proceeded toward town. The bumps were less noticeable without the added weight of their belongings. With any luck he’d be free of the area in an hour and at the inn by dusk.
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