AWOL

Incompetence.

Her bare feet set dew racing across the field coming to life under every step she took. She covered her eyes from the glare of the sun and already its heat sought out every droplet of her existence.

She saw an indentation in the hill with ancient glyphs written in blood mud proclaiming the existence of the lady within. At least there would be respite from the infernal July heat. She breezed inside and a mushroom capped fellow gaped at her open mouthed.

“My lady, you’re not expected,” said a gnome.

“Of course not. This is urgent business. Where is she?”

“Our lady doesn’t tell us. All she said was I’ll see you in five moons.”

“Oh for goodness sake. What of the sword? Don’t tell me she took that as well?”

The gnome shrugged. His awareness as useful as a hedgehog stuffed with strawberry shortcake. She stormed down several corridors and gnomes, pixies and merry mice scuttled away . The doors to the lady’s parlour burst open and there it was, one long sharp sword laid lazily upon a limestone chair.

“Not even in the bloody rock!” she snapped.

She took the blade, stowed it in its scabbard and wrote several hasty words upon a sheet of vellum. Her patience long spent and her irritation heightened to the pique of the breath of an angry salamander. Didn’t the idiot know the next chosen one would be coming near her lake by the next leafdrop?

She headed back. Home to a big lake where order and cleanliness were honoured, not forgotten.