[atomiser]

The channel on the left was too shallow to offer protection.

With a cloud of disappointment lowering on his head Ferax swerved back onto the beach. The claw of the pursuing clopper smashed into the sand behind him, close enough to tug on his saturated vest.

With ever increasing desperation his eyes picked out details from the surrounding terrain. Finding something, Ferax gave his last boost of speed to scramble under a nearby root. And there he sat, gasping for breath, feeling as if his heart should burst, while the loathsome creature hammered fruitlessly on his improvised shelter.

With the passing of sun, so too the creatures fury subsided. With a final disgusted snort it scuttled away.

Ferax looked about him once more, unconvinced that the new found quiet meant safety. He had travelled further in the last two days than he ever had before, and in this wilderness he felt terribly alone.

The silence was only circumstantial. Mentally he raged at himself. For some moments after the clopper had attacked Ferax held some misbegotten belief that he could prevail. The receiving end of a sharp blow smote him down like a bug, and not only did he drop any hope of victory, but there too in that Ferax shaped imprint in the ground he left his axe. Ferax was no veteran of the wilderness, but he was overwhelmed by disappointment in himself for being prone to such cowardly indiscipline. He had lost his weapon.

And now there were decisions to make. At least, Ferax liked to think so. He wanted to believe he was still in control of events. Of course, he had never been in control of events, even before setting out from Fairhaven.

It had all began with that look. You know the one. That look especially reserved for those darling young women who, with a mere flash of those helpless eyes, send men’s’ lives dashing simultaneously against the cliffs of hope and insanity.

This particular time, that look belonged to Elspeth Ba’Caussey. Countless many times Ferax had walked past her stall, wanting only to find the clever words that would sweep her to his side, forever bonded, only to remain silent. If such words existed, Ferax had no knowledge of what they where, or how to implement them.

But then there was that look. That look changed everything. I’m not talking about the ‘I want you.’ look. On no. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it? No, the look I mean is the really cruel one. The one with so many subtexts. The one that says in whispered desperation, ‘Oh, I’m so pathetic and lost and forlorn. If someone doesn’t help I’m simply going to whither away into some wilting failure of a homin, and the whole world will pity me forever.’

That’s the look I mean. No master spellcaster has something so powerful in his spell inventory.

Ferax halted before the stall. “What is it?” he asked.

Did his lips just move, he wondered then. No conscious act compelled the question. The look itself had summoned the question from him. A geas.

Elspeth looked up, startled momentarily from her despair. Then the look came back. “Oh, it’s nothing..”. The words were hardly audible. ‘It’s nothing..’ said the words. But what she really said was, “The foundations of my world are completely undermined and if someone doesn’t help me very soon, well, you might as well kill me now..”

“It doesn’t look like nothing..” Ferax persisted. Ferax could see the chasm opening up in front of him. He knew that he should just shut up and turn around, walk away as quickly as he could. He also knew if he turned away he’d be confronted by a solid wall. A wall formed by ‘the look’.

Ferax didn’t move. So the chasm moved for him, and suddenly he was falling into the depths of obligation.

“Well.. it’s the beach party..”

Hold on a minute..

“What?” he asked incredulously, losing his customarily politeness.

But there was no escape for him now. He’d gone and interfered, hadn’t he?

“The beach party,” continued Elspeth, who was of course oblivious to any astonishment in this matter. It was of course of vital, nay, earth shattering, importance.

“I spoke with Mellena earlier. She’s going too. Her ear-rings look almost exactly the same as mine!” Elspeth promptly erupted into tears.

Ridiculous as the situation was, this piteous creature broke down all senses of his reality. Well, almost all.

“But isn’t this a jewellery stall? There’s dozens of earrings here. Couldn’t you borrow a pair from your own stock?” He waved his hand across the sea of women’s paraphernalia.

Elspeth wiped her eyes. “Oh no! Look, these are the earrings I was going to wear.”

Even Ferax had to admit there was no comparison between these pieces of artwork in the dainty hand and the items on the table.

“Oh, I see.” he said quietly. “But you are a jeweller, and the party isn’t until next week. Can’t you make another set?”

Her features, flawless, remained tragically pathetic. “I could. But I can’t just use anything. The amber needed to make something like these has to come from far away. And none of the stockists here have anything so precious. Nothing short of an expedition to Fount could help me. Even then, finding such a good node would be almost impossible.” Thinking on it cast a cloud over Elspeth’s elfin features and her bottom lip trembled like the foreshock before an earthquake.

Don’t do it! Don’t do it!

“Alright,” Ferax heard someone say. “I’ll try and find some amber for you,”

Ferax looked around to see who had spoken but there was no one else about.

A long moment passed as Ferax replayed the voice he had heard in his head. No, it was definitely his. Where had that come from?

‘The look’ was gone when he next set his eyes on Elspeth. Behind the hope in her eyes now there was something else. Ferax searched the eyes deeply. Did he imagine it? The glimmer that said ‘It worked!’ And then, ‘Ha! It always works! Men are so dumb..’

The sun was coming up.

Ferax looked around him cautiously. The noise of the beasts stirring around him made him glance endlessly over his shoulder. He looked back down the beach. Somewhere out there lay his axe. He weighed his chances of retrieving it, found them to be minimal, and turned his attention to the distant cliffs where the fabled amber was said to lay. With a deep breath he strode out in their direction. Ragus darted amongst the herds grazing nearby. On a hill to the left cloppers hissed at anything nearby. Cloppers, Ragus. Cloppers, Ragus. Ferax tossed a mental dapper and went right.

Ferax returned to Fairhaven the two days before the party. Passers-by cast curious looks at the ragged forager as he passed as quickly as he could to his hovel. Dirty, tired, bruised and aching, he kept to the shadows lest people thought him a vagrant.

Home again he changed, swam a while to lose some of the tension, although he was certain he would never quiet be able to relax fully again, and sat alone, rehearsing how would present his gift to Elspeth.

When he went to the market she spotted him immediately. Before he could say anything she waved him happily over.

“Ferax! Ferax! It’s alright! It’s alright!”

Ferax entered the stall, “Alright?”

Elspeth smiled happily, “Yes. Mellena’s changed her mind. She’s not going to the party after all!”

She beamed happily up at him, her large eyes blinking like diamonds.

“Don’t know why I made all that fuss anyway. Stupid party. I probably won’t go either if Mellena’s not going. At least you don’t have to go to Fount, but you’re a gem for thinking of me!” She lent up to kiss his cheek.

With that she turned away to serve a customer, and Ferax felt himself become just another item in the background clutter.

He turned away, resigned to go home again and stare at the ceiling some. As soon as he whirled he walked smack into the most beautiful vision of loveliness he could ever hope to imagine. The petite face glanced up at him, startled. Tears adorned her face.

“What is it?” Ferax heard himself ask.