Good morning. I woke up this morning and grimaced at my alarm clock. I could really have done with an other hour of sleep this morning. Admittedly I was so stuffed up that breathing was difficult so I had to sit up. So I would have liked to have been propped up in bed so I could breath and then allowed another couple of hours of sleep. Of course I could have taken my sinus meds, but they take about half an hour to fully kick in and by then I would have been awake. And so stuffy and waiting for the meds to kick in is how we are starting the day. Let’s try to use the writing prompt to clear away some cobwebs, shall we? So fifteen minutes on the timer if you are writing along and let’s go.
Okay this one has some potential. I seem to have better luck with the writing prompts I work on when I’m not having my best mornings and want to go back to sleep rather than write. I’m sure there is a reason. But for now I’m going to call it my reward for not ignoring the alarm clock.
Tuesday, March 1st: From the top of the ridge, he could see for miles.
From the top of the ridge he could see for miles. The sight was not inspiring. His ridge was a rocky outcropping at the edge of what appeared to be a vast desert. He followed the trail here. Jet leaned on the rock and took a breath. He had been walking for hours. He knew he was two days behind his quarry and there was a miniscule chance that he could catch up. He used every chance that he could to shorten the lead. He thought it was enough, that he could catch them before they reached the Great Desert.
‘Apparently not,’ he thought. He searched himself and found resignation, but no regret. He did all he could, there was nothing else within his power to try. He took a small sip of water from his supply, knowing he would need to reserve it for the upcoming chase. Stopping here was not an option for him. He could return to Grest with his quarry captured or not at all. Those were the choices he was given. He frowned and looked at the tracker he had been given.
The mages explained it to him as they handed it over. The numbers gave the approximate distance between him and those he was tracking and the arrows gave directions. He was also given a map so that he could plan his course should they veer out of territory he was familiar with. While the magic was helpful and Jet needed to know the details to use it, he regretted asking some of the questions.
‘Can they track anyone?” he asked the mage. The mage shrugged and told him that it could track anyone the Lord had tagged as part of estate property. He then pointed to both his own mark and Jet’s, pointing out the slight ridge under the skin. Jet noticed it and couldn’t remember a time when it was not there. Implanted under his skin was a small stone, barely half the size of his pinky fingernail. It had been spelled to the Lord he served and inserted under his skin when he was brought to the house.
While he rarely thought about it before, now he kept running his hand over the small lump buried beneath his skin. While with the mage he asked if the marker could be removed. While the mage gave him a knowing look, he accepted that it was information that might come in handy. Jet was informed that if they went far enough away from the central tacking stone that provided the chips for the individual trackers, then they could be removed.
“So I need to catch them before they reach that distance?” Jet asked. The mage had not been cleared to provide that information and had to request permission. When it was given, Jet was told. If his prey reached the other side of the desert, they could remove it with no damage to themselves.
Ten til Midnight 