Aspen knew he should have been paying attention. He had run straight into his sister’s friends. She threw him into it again. You walked straight into it this time, he thought. She smiled down at him as he held his aching ribs.

“Nice one Sequoia,” one of her friends called. Sequoia never spoke when Aspen was around; she either glared at him malevolently or beat him up. They laughed as he crawled away.

Aspen cradled the large, purple bruise on his chest as he meandered through the trees to his favorite hiding spot. It hurt to breath. She had even reopened the gash on his calf; drops of blood were dripping into his sandal. Not for the last time, Aspen wished he were out of the woods, literally and figuratively. He crept up to the giant oak tree he had hidden in since he was three. When he had found it, Aspen had carefully hollowed out the inside. The rotten wood had given way easily. He had left a thin layer of wood on the outside, because only the center of the tree was completely rotten. Aspen crawled up to it, removing the large piece of bark that served as a door. He gingerly lit a candle, careful to make sure that no one saw. He crept inside and sat down on the bed of pine boughs he had collect the month before. Aspen laid down. More than ever, Aspen wished he could see the sun. More than ever, he wished he were out in the real world. Unfortunately, daydreaming was not going to do him any good. He was still stuck here and always would be. As Aspen thought, his eyelids became heavy. When he could not keep them open any longer, he let himself fall asleep.

As soon as he did however, he had the strangest dream. He was flying, but then he remembered he could not. He started to fall. He tried to scream, but no noise came out of his mouth. Just before he smashed into the ground, it turned into water, and he hit the surface with a mighty FWOOM! To his surprise, he was okay. Then he realized something. He was breathing underwater. What on earth was happening? It’s okay. I’m just going crazy. Yeah, he really needed a more comforting statement, not that he was expecting a sentiment anyway. All of the sudden, the ground erupted at his feet, and the earth swallowed him, piercing his chest with hundreds of tiny spears. He stumbled around in pain. The cave shook with an evil laugh, and Aspen woke with a start.

Aspen immediately felt his stomach, but did not feel any holes. Whew, he thought. That was weird. He stood up and looked around. It was night. He got up from the rocks and sighed. Well, are you ready for another day of withering retorts, ungrateful looks, and bruises all over your face? His subconscious asked him. Shut up, he thought. I am not a punching bag.

With a start, Aspen realized that he was not in his tree anymore. He had no idea where he was. It was too dark to see much, but Aspen could tell he was in a small cave, no more than a slit in the ground. He could see the sky overhead and feel rock walls on three sides. It was incredibly thin, but Aspen could tell that it ran for dozens of feet out in front of him, as if some giant had raked their spear in the earth. All of the sudden, he felt a sharp prick. He looked down at the colorful dart embedded in his neck and collapsed onto the rocky ground.

When he sat up again, it was morning. All of the sudden, he heard the voices. How long have those been there? He thought. Through a haze of pain, Aspen heard a haughty voice ask,

“Where is he?”

“Down there,” another answered, this one high and reedy. Aspen saw a tan hand point into the crack in the stone. “

Never would have fit if not for how scrawny he is.” “

Well, the deserts always looking for new slaves. That’s why I’m here. Burn will want him. You and I could make a decent sum of gold off of him.”

Aspen had no idea what they were talking about, but it sounded like they were going to sell him to someone. He laughed at the thought; his ears still rang and he did not comprehend his own thoughts.

“I heard that they’re even harsher that the ocean. Aren’t they only fed about three times a week? And whipped. I heard something about that.”

Aspen was jolted back into reality. He finally realized what was being said, and tried to squeeze himself into the corners of the cave. Their conversation went on, and Aspen realized that he would have to make his move before they made theirs. His muscles tensed as he got ready to spring.

“I don’t see anything,” the first voice said. A face peeked into the crevice and looked around.

At that exact moment, Aspen had planned to leap up the wall and try to jump to safety. He had just pushed off from the wall and was running toward the crack when the man poked his head in. It was too late to stop now. Aspen leapt toward the exit, and closed his eyes.

He felt his feet leave the ground. He felt his hands graze the rock walls. He felt himself stay up in the air for far too long. When he opened his eyes again, he was dozens of feet above the ground. Even as he watched, it grew further and further away until Aspen was able to brush the tops of the trees. He could not believe his eyes. There was only one thing that could possibly be happening.

He was a Summoner.

He. Of all people, he, Aspen, the person everyone had laughed at and called names. He, a summoner. He felt his face break into a rare grin. He laughed at the astonished faces of the men far below on the forest floor. He turned his face into the sun he had wished to see for so long. It was more beautiful than he had even imagined and the warmth was incredible.

He had hardly done so however, when he came crashing down. As he fell, he groped desperately at the tree branches surrounding him and managed to snag one just before he hit the ground, ripping the skin off his palms and almost dislocating his shoulder. Aspen let go of the branch and ran. The men had been standing there the entire time, not able to believe what they were seeing. Now, they realized their prey was getting away, and their fortune along with it. One was still standing there, gaping, but the tan one recovered quicker. He leapt to his feet and raced after Aspen. Aspen had always been fast. Now, his life depended on it. He poured every ounce of his energy into making his feet move, one in front of the other. He ran as fast as he could, and once again, he felt his feet leave the ground.

It was the most amazing feeling he had ever felt. It was nothing like running, and nothing like flying. It was as if he was wrapped in something that was carrying him up into the clouds. And so it was. The wind itself was lifting Aspen high above the ground, faster even than a falcon could dive. So high, that Aspen could see the sun again. He basked in the warmth for just a moment too long. His concentration broke. He hurdled toward the ground even faster than he had come up. Aspen struggled to keep conciseness but could not focus. Aspen blacked out, a thousand feet above the ground.