Tracking the Prey
In his fever dream, Ulrich stood just outside the vast, game-filled forest of Jaagerlandt. He knew this was a dream, because the only way to see this place was after death, and he didn't remember dying recently.
A hunter stood by him and sniffed the breeze. "Rain coming today," he said. "The trees will be dripping on us all night."
"What is that place?" Ulrich asked, pointing across scrubby grass to a distant gateway of stone. It seemed to glow and swirl like a heat-shimmer.
The hunter squatted and ran expert fingers over a recent deer track. "That's the road to Midlandt where the humans live. They say it's a terrible place. Almost no game, and the women are hidden away. Never been myself."
"But we're humans," Ulrich said, confused.
"Speak for yourself," the hunter said, and as he rose, he seemed to stand twice as tall as before. His eyes were an uncanny yellow.
The hunter began to jog along the forest edge, but Ulrich held back, his eyes drawing him toward the glowing gateway.
"Come along if you want to catch your prey," the hunter said, motioning Ulrich to follow.
"My prey is over here," Ulrich said, trotting toward the glowing gate.
In a few dream steps, he was there. The hunter was again beside him, and he had resumed a more normal size.
"What prey will you find in that dismal place that you cannot find in the Jaagerlandt?"
Ulrich squatted and picked up a smooth stone the size of a grape. He rubbed it in his hands, scraping away dirt to reveal a blue gem with a hundred tiny facets. "This is my spoor," he said, rising, letting the blue gem fall into his pouch. "This is the sign I follow."
Ulrich walked through the shimmering portal. His future wife was somewhere ahead. She had left this clue for him to follow.
...
...
Ulrich opened his eyes; they were crusty and burning. His chest was aching and he could barely move.
"He's waking up," a boy's voice said.
"Let him be," a woman's voice said. "Even a bloody giant Northman needs time to rest after getting tossed around by a troll."
...
Ulrich opened his eyes; they were crusty and burning. His chest was aching and he could barely move.
"He's waking up," a boy's voice said.
"Let him be," a woman's voice said. "Even a bloody giant Northman needs time to rest after getting tossed around by a troll."
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