Page 2 of Found in Obscurity

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

He reached out and dug his fingers into the snow, ruining the words written in it, clenching his fists and letting the warmth of his skin melt them away.

They dripped down his wrists and into his sleeves, dampening them, making the hairs on his arms stand up.

He’d ruined the words.

But there was no escaping them.

They were burned behind his eyelids and screaming in his head. He stared at the black marks on his fingers, stark against the white snow, and forced himself to face them.

It’s time to come back home.

Chapter one

Lorin

It felt like steppingback in time. As if nothing had changed since the last time he’d seen the dingy old bus station of his hometown.

The name on the old metal plate was barely visible anymore. If Lorin hadn’t already known he was in Oak’s Hollow, there was a chance he wouldn’t have been able to read the sign at all.

The paint on the walls of the main building was still chipping off, the chairs were still broken or missing, leaving people shuffling around as they waited. The buses huffed and puffed as they pulled in and out of the station, filling the air with the musty scent of exhaust fumes and dust.

People milled around like ants, dragging their luggage and canvas bags filled with fresh produce along. Greeting each other mindlessly as they walked by, because even busy and frustrated, they recognized each other and wanted to be respectful.

Just as he remembered.

He took one step forward and almost fell back on his ass when someone brushed past him, knocking his leather bag off his shoulder and the few books he had in his hands onto the floor.

“I am so sorry,” the woman said, muttering a few short words and holding her hands up in apology, the dark designs on her nails and fingers stark against her pale skin.

Somehow, it was the sight of them that drove the point home.

Lorin was back in his hometown.

Back in the place he’d worked so hard to escape.

“All good,” he forced himself to say just as the books rushed through the air and thumped into his arms. The woman rushed away, not sparing him another glance.

He focused on the hands of others instinctually. They all wore their marks with pride. Sharp nails decorated heavily with designs spreading down their fingers and the backs of their palms.

Lines, runes, numbers, and letters. Drawings. Combinations of it all. They came in every version imaginable, and Lorin gripped the straps of his bag firmly, his own hands hidden by soft black gloves.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward again, careful to avoid slamming into anyone else as he crossed the small station and went through the building to the other side. He walked out onto the sidewalk, watching small cars rushing by and trying to spot a taxi he could take.

The address was still fresh in his mind over a decade later, like he’d never really left.

He spotted a car with a plaque on top approaching and was about to lift his hand up and call it over when something sharp landed in the crook of his elbow.

“You’re not in your big city, boy. You don’t just wave at people here like they’re pigeons.” The voice came from behind him, and Lorin looked down at his arm to find the intricately carved tipof the wooden staff he knew all too well. He followed it with his eyes, every inch of it engraved into his memory.

The surface from the bottom to near the top was smooth, dark wood, polished to perfection. The top consisted of hollow spirals and ridges carved right into the wood. It looked delicate. Fragile. But he knew it was sturdy. Just like its owner.

He spun on his heel and came face to face with a tall, gray-haired woman dressed in a billowing black robe. She had piercing blue eyes, curly hair she let gray naturally, and a pointy hat perched on top of her head.

The wrinkled skin on her face was testament to her years in the realm of the living, each crease hiding wisdom and knowledge few could lay claim to.

The staff in her hands was almost the same height as she was, and Lorin would have sworn she was born with it and the thing grew with her, because he didn’t remember ever seeing her without it.