The track stretched out like a shadow, the long, narrow trace of some monumental tower fit for magic and sorcerors. She looked the other way, but there were no pillars, no turrets, no mages invoking the vanished Stone People. The dark granite track curved gently up into the hills, and past them to the mountain. Her own shadow lay across the smooth stone, pointing toward the south, and slightly east. That way lay the quarry, and salvation. Perhaps.
“You don’t need saving,” her brother had argued. “What’s attacking you? You’ve got food, home, people who love you. What would you be saved from?”


About the story: Different abilities don’t stop you from being an epic hero.