It had been 3 days, 7 hours and 42 minutes since Lumaris’ magic went cold and each painful second dragged on like hours. Night had fallen swift and sure not all that long ago, the red sunset bleeding into the twilight blue; it was during the nights that the antlered stag felt mortality the most. No longer did his enlarged audits pick up every sound that sliced the silence of the dark, instead they were limited by temporal ability, his sight bound by normal vision. Lumaris felt clumsy and slow despite the fact that to the untrained eye he would seem graceful and elegant in his movements. To him however his muscular form moved with a painful lack of speed and this feeling of weakness seemed to take over him.

The first day had been the worst; Lumaris had been exhausted, crippled by the sudden disappearance of his magic and abandoned by powers that once commanded him. Now he just felt ill and vulnerable, something that was making him extra cold.

On through the night his strong pillars dragged him, the breeze playing softly through his deep blue locks. Mountains rose tall and proud around him, the air frigid and cold giving him more reason to miss the fire that ordinarily lived in his heart. A steep incline had picked up as the encirclement of rocky peaks became a wall, forcing him to go up or go back. That had been a day ago. Now the gold-antlered stallion found himself at the base of the mountains limbs like lead from the constant climbing and descending. Before the blue steed lay a lake surrounded by emerald green shores. The waters were peaceful, still, even in the night time breeze. In the dark the stars were reflected brightly upon the calm surface, a pretty sight most would admit. But that night its beauty was lost on Lumaris for other thoughts and worries plagued his mind- not that you could guess from the stony expression upon his otherwise handsome face. Since the pass through the mountains Lumaris couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched, that this land belonged to another and he was trespassing. The air heavy with the scents of others confirmed his suspicions but it did not phase him. He was but a wanderer, a deserter, they would not know of him or his deeds, nor hopefully would they attack him. In the past Lumaris could be assured he would prevail for thousands of times before he had taken on multiple assailants and won. Now however, without his Fae speed, his Elven strength or his powerful magic he could not be so sure.