In Need of a Name

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

The clothes I had stolen from some local’s washing barely suited my needs.  They fit me well enough but were not suited to the season. That said, I did not want to enter Southernmost with the stain and scent of blood that painted my old leathers.

From the ridge I could see the outpost.  Even at this distance, the smell wood fires, and the roasted meat reached my nose.  I was anxious for something other than lichen soup and felt those gates could be reached by mid-afternoon.  I picked my way over the craggy rocks on my way to the pre-winter fields of dying grass.  There were some birds remaining; starlings and song sparrows, to distract and inspire my thoughts.

Would I be accepted at Southernmost?  Well, that would depend on my use to them.  Sills as a scout would be useful to most frontier settlements, but it was nearing winter.

Several hours later, I reached the streamed that served as the settlement’s water source.  There was a man intently fishing and a dog.  The dog barked and the man remained silent.  Probably for the best.

The settlement gates were close by mid-afternoon.  There was man leaning against a pike, keeping an eye on the approaching road.

“Where are you from?”

“A farm south of here”

“There inn’t much of anything south of here.” His voice trailed off.

I stood still, awaiting the question.



He paused a moment.

“Funny name.”

“Well, I am the only one on the farm.”

The guard chuckled.

“See Constable Illsmore at the big building,” he said gesturing. “He’ll tell you if you can stay or not.”

And so, I stepped into Southernmost, and into the next stage of my adventure.

Submitted: May 30, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Vreck Roundears. All rights reserved.

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