The Eternal City, Part 1

This is the beginning of a long story I will be serializing here. I hope to update it once per week, but we'll see how that goes. It is in the nature of a rough draft, as I am writing it essentially as it appears here. I hope you enjoy it.


“Where are you, Hero? I wasn’t gone that long.”

It was the edge of the forest. Kira knew Hero didn’t like to be so close to the settlements. But, she knew he understood the necessity. She’d been waiting for him for an hour after her return from the farm-hold. It was within view of the trees, and Hero’s sight was considerably better than hers, so she knew he would have been able to see her the whole time.

When she had spoken, it had been quietly, the calm of her voice belying the irritation she felt inside. She understood his trepidation. The farmers and other settlers didn’t care for his kind, and they generally drove them off on the exceedingly rare occasions the two parties had the opportunity to interact.

Part of her irritation stemmed from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect her. She had been at the edges of the farm-stead stealing, and had she been spotted there would have been a chase. The only way the chase would have been broken off would have been the appearance of Hero.

The plan, as it had been for years, was that Kira would sneak into the fields under the eye of Hero. If she was spotted and chased, Hero would emerge from the trees, shocking the farmers into stopping. He would then scoop Kira up and they would flee at a speed the farmers could not match.

But, he was nowhere to be found this time. Neither could she track him. He was by far the superior woodsman, and had been born with the natural habit of concealing his movements from others. It was how his kind had survived for longer than anyone could remember.

She waited for a few more minutes, intending to set out looking for him if he didn’t show. Soon, however, she heard a familiar rustle in the gathering dusk. A moment later, Hero emerged from the shadows.

He was taller than any man, almost by half. His bulk was also much greater, and his reach and musculature matched. Green skin was hidden only atop his head and on his chin by darker green hair. Small round ears sat astride a great round head. His eyes were big and piercing with light gray irises. A sharp intellect shown in them, but one that was deeply estranged from the minds of humans. Even Kira, who had been travelling with Hero for years, often didn’t understand the things he did. His mouth was wide and thin-lipped, and sat beneath a broad nose with wide nostrils.

Men called Hero’s people the Firbolg. They were ancient beyond the ken of most of the other peoples, and were widely feared. Legend tied them mysteriously to the ancient ruins scattered about the countryside.

We are followed. Hero used the sign-language of his people. They had vocal ability, but used it only rarely. He knew Kira’s language, but they used Hero’s most often. The sign he used for “followed” also meant “hunted”, but Hero’s demeanor led Kira to interpret it in the less threatening way.

Who? She asked. Hero shrugged, a mannerism adopted from his companion. The gesture was far grander when performed by someone of his size, and therefore seemed much more emphatic than the off-hand way Kira used it.

We should travel on, he said. Clearly, Hero didn’t feel threatened by the follower, but the fact they were being tracked was, in itself, a reason to keep moving. Especially for a Firbolg. They had no craving for contact with other peoples, Hero’s relationship with Kira notwithstanding.

To make themselves harder to track, Kira climbed on to the Firbolg’s shoulders. They had travelled this way often over the years, and Hero was practiced at avoiding branches low enough to knock Kira down.

While they travelled, they at some of the fruit and vegetables Kira had taken. Hero had a couple of rabbits in his pouch, and Kira promised to cook them up when he deemed it safe to camp.

They moved deeper into the trees, familiar with this part of the forest. The Firbolg were forest creatures, and Hero, so far as Kira knew, had never been outside of the cover of the trees. Save, of course, for the few times he had come to her rescue at the farms. So, they both knew the forest pretty well.

Hero finally stopped moving late into the night. The sky beyond the trees was clear, and the moon shown bright in a little clearing by a low rock out-cropping. Kira laid out her bed beneath the rock, and prepared a small fire. Years before, when she still lived among her own kind, her mother had taught her a few small tricks that she was told to keep to herself. One was the trick of making a smokeless fire. A small gesture with the fingers of her left hand, a muttered phrase in a language she didn’t understand, and she had a merry little fire to cook by; and there would be no column of smoke to give away their location, no matter how damp the wood.

Hero, as was his habit, sat with his back to the fire while he ate. Kira knew, he preferred to feel the heat on his back, rather than his face. Also, it helped to keep his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was always watchful and suspicious, but especially now, when they were being tracked.

Kira extinguished the fire before she settled in to her bed. Getting rest was rarely a problem for her, since her companion had no need of sleep. He kept watch all night, most nights. Some nights, he slipped away for a few hours.

Kira suspected he went off to visit with others of his kind, though she had never seen another Firbolg. She sometimes asked him where he went, but he refused to say. Actually, it was more like he ignored her, simply not answering.

This night, however, he remained nearby, watchful.