| By: Jason Atwood |
The boy shuddered and jerked awake. He gasped for breath as his back arched and his eyes
bulged. It was not as if he were regaining consciousness. It was more like consciousness had
thrust itself into the boy’s body, and then shook him violently until he finally submitted to its will.
After a moment, his breathing finally slowed and his muscles relaxed. It seemed that
consciousness had achieved its end, and it had decided to settle into its new home.
The boy lay on his back and drew in deep breath after deep breath. The air was clean, cool
but not cold. His mind and vision were still swimmy from the lurching leap from the dark place of
before to the bright place of now.
There was a before? It was dark?
These were the first clear thoughts since awakening. Surely there was a before, but what was
it?
The boy reached his still shaky mind toward some memory of before, but none could be
found. Should this be troubling? After a few moments of thought, he decided that there was
nothing he could do about remembering whatever the before was. Instead of continuing the futile
search within, he decided to turn his attention outward. He looked upward to the sky above him.
Sky, clouds, trees; he knew what these things were, but he did not know how he knew.
The boy closed his eyes, and focused on the sounds around him. He heard the twittering
calls of birds, the buzzing of some insects, and the rustling of windblown leaves. He knew what the
things around him were, but it appeared that his knowledge was not all encompassing. He did not
know what kind of birds made the calls he heard, or what species of insect produced the droning
buzz.
A strange sensation suddenly commanded his attention. The boy did not immediately
comprehend what he felt, but realized that it was unpleasant. He sat up slightly, realized that he
was naked and there were little brown things crawling on him. Then, a word lurched to the front of
his consciousness…ANTS!
He leapt to his feet, wildly slapping at the diminutive stinging beasties. The boy hopped
madly around, spitting strings of words that when repeated in later days would yield him a stern
scolding.
After shaking the last of the insect foes from his body, the boy took a few moments to once
again gaze at his surroundings. He appeared to be in a lightly wooded area, but couldn’t glean any
further information that might help him return home.
Home? Surely he had a home, but that seemed to be lost in the before-time. Certainly there
had to be people nearby who knew from where he came. If he could just find someone and tell
them his name, then they could help him find where he belonged.
Name? What was his name? Panic began to slither over him. Everyone had a name. Why
couldn’t he remember his, and why were his arms sticky? The boy looked down, and saw his arms
covered with streaks of drying blood. He had unconsciously been scratching the ant bites on his
arms quite vigorously. This did nothing to lessen the panic that was gradually slinking up his
spine.
He noticed something glinting on his wrist. It looked to be some sort of silver bracelet. This
simple object evoked a string of questions that seemed of little importance, but at the same time
forced all other thoughts out of his mind.
Where did it come from?
Why didn’t he notice it sooner?
Why did it itch so much?
Was there an ant underneath it still biting him?
Yes, the questions themselves had little value, but the object commanded the boy’s attention.
He examined it closely.
Somewhere he heard a gravely voice say, “This looks important.”
The boy snapped his head around so quickly that he spun in place. Who had said that? The
voice sounded so close, but he could see no one around. Could someone be hiding behind a
tree? He looked intently at the trees, trying to spy any signs of movement. He could not see
anything that pointed to some concealed presence.
However, as he looked at the trees, he could have sworn that they were looking back at him.
He looked more closely, and could make out faces in the tree trunks. They looked at him with their
cracked bark visages and mossy eyebrows, but they spoke no more.
His attention was drawn back to the bracelet. It was a plain loop of silver, but it had seen
much wear. There were several scratches on its tarnished surface. The boy thought, maybe if it
were removed he could get a better look at it. The bracelet proved to be too small to simply slide
over his hand. He looked for some sort of clasp, but the silver band had no breaks.
His inspection of the bracelet did unearth one piece of information. Perhaps it would shed some
light on the darkness of the before-time. Amongst the random scratches and gouges on its
surface, there was something engraved. It was a single word, written in delicate flowing
script.
Jayce
Certainty gripped him. This was his name. His name was Jayce. He was naked, ant bitten
and lost in the wilderness. However, he knew his name, and he was not alone. He looked at the
trees again.
“It was important, thank you,” Jayce said in a dry, cracked voice. The faces turned, as if
embarrassed by the praise. He guessed that these trees were not thanked very often.
Jayce caught sight of movement by one of the trees. So, there was someone hiding there. He felt
chagrin at his initial belief that the trees actually talked to him. He focused his attention on the thick
clump of brush where he had detected the movement, and saw a pair of sky blue eyes staring back
at him. The owner of these eyes did not so much as emerge from its hiding place as it
materialized from the air itself.
Jayce started as the large grey wolf walked slowly into the open. As the initial surprise
receded, he realized that he was not afraid of this creature. It looked at him in a thoughtful, pitying
way. It was as if it were apologizing not only for past wrongs but for all future sorrows. The
animal eased toward Jayce, and it nuzzled his hand. Jayce ran his fingers through the soft fur and
scratched behind the creature’s ears. It looked up at him with that same sad expression, and tears
welled in Jayce’s eyes. This brief moment of shared pathos forged a bond between them. This
wolf belonged to Jayce, and he belonged to it.
“Do you have a name?” Jayce inquired. The wolf only gave him a confused look then
nuzzled Jayce’s bracelet.
“Your name is bracelet?” Jayce giggled.
The wolf narrowed its eyes.
“Silver?” Jayce ventured.
The wolf snorted and shook its head. A thought surged to the front of Jayce’s mind. This
would be one of the many times in Jayce’s life when he would be possessed with a preternatural
clarity of thought. This wolf did not have a name, nor did it need one. In fact, it was best if Jayce
never called it anything more specific than his wolf. This creature was sent to him for a purpose. It
was intelligent, powerful and would be a guide throughout the days ahead.
The strange clarity left him, but Jayce felt innervated. He met his wolf’s spirited eyes and felt
his heart quicken. His pulse pounded in his temples. This new sensation was one of power,
energy, speed and motion. The wolf turned and bolted. Jayce followed on what would be the first
hunt of many, some of which he would have the wherewithal to put on pants beforehand.
As Jayce followed the wolf, he had no thoughts of the past or the future. There was only the
present. There was only the hunt. He felt a rush of euphoria as he darted around trees, and leapt
over bushes. He possessed speed and agility like that of the wolf he followed. Just as his
physical prowess was increased, his senses were also heightened. He perceived the sights,
sounds and smells of the forest around him as no human ever could. Each new wonder could only
be savored for a passing moment before another could take its place.
Regardless of the pleasure brought by the myriad sensations, one overriding drive demanded
attention. This was not a random run through the wilderness. There was a purpose to it. There
was a destination he was hurtling toward. He had no concept of how much time had passed since
the hunt began, but he knew the destination was close. The wolf leapt into a large wall of
underbrush and vanished. Jayce shielded his face with his arms and crashed through the
vegetation to see a large creature directly in front of him. Unable to avoid it, he collided with the
massive beast and bounced off. Jayce maintained his footing and skittered away.
The creature reared on its back legs, and Jayce saw that it possessed two heads. One head had
large black eyes and whinnied. The other head bore a look of panic, and uttered a harsh,
“WHOA!” Jayce saw two more creatures behind the first. The words “horse” and “man” sprung
to his mind, but their meanings were lost in the chaos of the moment. Jayce cast about for his
wolf. Where was his wolf? His wolf had not crashed through the brush as he had. It had
vanished! Jayce’s heightened senses were gone as well, and the confident euphoria had left with
them.
Here he was, a boy alone and naked, confronted by noise, danger and strangeness. He had
to run. He had to find his wolf. Despite the calls for him not to move, he turned on his heels. He
sprang away in a random direction and blindly ran into a tree. Bright colors flooded his vision. He
spun to see the ground coming up to catch him right before everything went dark. Little did he
know at the time that he had reached his destination.
bulged. It was not as if he were regaining consciousness. It was more like consciousness had
thrust itself into the boy’s body, and then shook him violently until he finally submitted to its will.
After a moment, his breathing finally slowed and his muscles relaxed. It seemed that
consciousness had achieved its end, and it had decided to settle into its new home.
The boy lay on his back and drew in deep breath after deep breath. The air was clean, cool
but not cold. His mind and vision were still swimmy from the lurching leap from the dark place of
before to the bright place of now.
There was a before? It was dark?
These were the first clear thoughts since awakening. Surely there was a before, but what was
it?
The boy reached his still shaky mind toward some memory of before, but none could be
found. Should this be troubling? After a few moments of thought, he decided that there was
nothing he could do about remembering whatever the before was. Instead of continuing the futile
search within, he decided to turn his attention outward. He looked upward to the sky above him.
Sky, clouds, trees; he knew what these things were, but he did not know how he knew.
The boy closed his eyes, and focused on the sounds around him. He heard the twittering
calls of birds, the buzzing of some insects, and the rustling of windblown leaves. He knew what the
things around him were, but it appeared that his knowledge was not all encompassing. He did not
know what kind of birds made the calls he heard, or what species of insect produced the droning
buzz.
A strange sensation suddenly commanded his attention. The boy did not immediately
comprehend what he felt, but realized that it was unpleasant. He sat up slightly, realized that he
was naked and there were little brown things crawling on him. Then, a word lurched to the front of
his consciousness…ANTS!
He leapt to his feet, wildly slapping at the diminutive stinging beasties. The boy hopped
madly around, spitting strings of words that when repeated in later days would yield him a stern
scolding.
After shaking the last of the insect foes from his body, the boy took a few moments to once
again gaze at his surroundings. He appeared to be in a lightly wooded area, but couldn’t glean any
further information that might help him return home.
Home? Surely he had a home, but that seemed to be lost in the before-time. Certainly there
had to be people nearby who knew from where he came. If he could just find someone and tell
them his name, then they could help him find where he belonged.
Name? What was his name? Panic began to slither over him. Everyone had a name. Why
couldn’t he remember his, and why were his arms sticky? The boy looked down, and saw his arms
covered with streaks of drying blood. He had unconsciously been scratching the ant bites on his
arms quite vigorously. This did nothing to lessen the panic that was gradually slinking up his
spine.
He noticed something glinting on his wrist. It looked to be some sort of silver bracelet. This
simple object evoked a string of questions that seemed of little importance, but at the same time
forced all other thoughts out of his mind.
Where did it come from?
Why didn’t he notice it sooner?
Why did it itch so much?
Was there an ant underneath it still biting him?
Yes, the questions themselves had little value, but the object commanded the boy’s attention.
He examined it closely.
Somewhere he heard a gravely voice say, “This looks important.”
The boy snapped his head around so quickly that he spun in place. Who had said that? The
voice sounded so close, but he could see no one around. Could someone be hiding behind a
tree? He looked intently at the trees, trying to spy any signs of movement. He could not see
anything that pointed to some concealed presence.
However, as he looked at the trees, he could have sworn that they were looking back at him.
He looked more closely, and could make out faces in the tree trunks. They looked at him with their
cracked bark visages and mossy eyebrows, but they spoke no more.
His attention was drawn back to the bracelet. It was a plain loop of silver, but it had seen
much wear. There were several scratches on its tarnished surface. The boy thought, maybe if it
were removed he could get a better look at it. The bracelet proved to be too small to simply slide
over his hand. He looked for some sort of clasp, but the silver band had no breaks.
His inspection of the bracelet did unearth one piece of information. Perhaps it would shed some
light on the darkness of the before-time. Amongst the random scratches and gouges on its
surface, there was something engraved. It was a single word, written in delicate flowing
script.
Jayce
Certainty gripped him. This was his name. His name was Jayce. He was naked, ant bitten
and lost in the wilderness. However, he knew his name, and he was not alone. He looked at the
trees again.
“It was important, thank you,” Jayce said in a dry, cracked voice. The faces turned, as if
embarrassed by the praise. He guessed that these trees were not thanked very often.
Jayce caught sight of movement by one of the trees. So, there was someone hiding there. He felt
chagrin at his initial belief that the trees actually talked to him. He focused his attention on the thick
clump of brush where he had detected the movement, and saw a pair of sky blue eyes staring back
at him. The owner of these eyes did not so much as emerge from its hiding place as it
materialized from the air itself.
Jayce started as the large grey wolf walked slowly into the open. As the initial surprise
receded, he realized that he was not afraid of this creature. It looked at him in a thoughtful, pitying
way. It was as if it were apologizing not only for past wrongs but for all future sorrows. The
animal eased toward Jayce, and it nuzzled his hand. Jayce ran his fingers through the soft fur and
scratched behind the creature’s ears. It looked up at him with that same sad expression, and tears
welled in Jayce’s eyes. This brief moment of shared pathos forged a bond between them. This
wolf belonged to Jayce, and he belonged to it.
“Do you have a name?” Jayce inquired. The wolf only gave him a confused look then
nuzzled Jayce’s bracelet.
“Your name is bracelet?” Jayce giggled.
The wolf narrowed its eyes.
“Silver?” Jayce ventured.
The wolf snorted and shook its head. A thought surged to the front of Jayce’s mind. This
would be one of the many times in Jayce’s life when he would be possessed with a preternatural
clarity of thought. This wolf did not have a name, nor did it need one. In fact, it was best if Jayce
never called it anything more specific than his wolf. This creature was sent to him for a purpose. It
was intelligent, powerful and would be a guide throughout the days ahead.
The strange clarity left him, but Jayce felt innervated. He met his wolf’s spirited eyes and felt
his heart quicken. His pulse pounded in his temples. This new sensation was one of power,
energy, speed and motion. The wolf turned and bolted. Jayce followed on what would be the first
hunt of many, some of which he would have the wherewithal to put on pants beforehand.
As Jayce followed the wolf, he had no thoughts of the past or the future. There was only the
present. There was only the hunt. He felt a rush of euphoria as he darted around trees, and leapt
over bushes. He possessed speed and agility like that of the wolf he followed. Just as his
physical prowess was increased, his senses were also heightened. He perceived the sights,
sounds and smells of the forest around him as no human ever could. Each new wonder could only
be savored for a passing moment before another could take its place.
Regardless of the pleasure brought by the myriad sensations, one overriding drive demanded
attention. This was not a random run through the wilderness. There was a purpose to it. There
was a destination he was hurtling toward. He had no concept of how much time had passed since
the hunt began, but he knew the destination was close. The wolf leapt into a large wall of
underbrush and vanished. Jayce shielded his face with his arms and crashed through the
vegetation to see a large creature directly in front of him. Unable to avoid it, he collided with the
massive beast and bounced off. Jayce maintained his footing and skittered away.
The creature reared on its back legs, and Jayce saw that it possessed two heads. One head had
large black eyes and whinnied. The other head bore a look of panic, and uttered a harsh,
“WHOA!” Jayce saw two more creatures behind the first. The words “horse” and “man” sprung
to his mind, but their meanings were lost in the chaos of the moment. Jayce cast about for his
wolf. Where was his wolf? His wolf had not crashed through the brush as he had. It had
vanished! Jayce’s heightened senses were gone as well, and the confident euphoria had left with
them.
Here he was, a boy alone and naked, confronted by noise, danger and strangeness. He had
to run. He had to find his wolf. Despite the calls for him not to move, he turned on his heels. He
sprang away in a random direction and blindly ran into a tree. Bright colors flooded his vision. He
spun to see the ground coming up to catch him right before everything went dark. Little did he
know at the time that he had reached his destination.
| Splintered Fate |
| November 2009 |
| Serial Fiction |
| Copyright 2009 by Jason Atwood |
| Chapter 6 |
Bio:
Jason Atwood is a native of Sparta, a small town in the mountains of North Carolina. He now lives in Lilburn,
Georgia with his lovely wife Lisa and their four cats. When he's not writing, he's making a difference in the lives of
children as a pharmacist at a children's hospital in Atlanta.
Jason Atwood is a native of Sparta, a small town in the mountains of North Carolina. He now lives in Lilburn,
Georgia with his lovely wife Lisa and their four cats. When he's not writing, he's making a difference in the lives of
children as a pharmacist at a children's hospital in Atlanta.
| Return in December, 2009, for the next installment of Splintered Fate |
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