Wielder's Awakening Read Online Free PDF

would come in handy if he got really hungry on the trip to Calyn.  Laying in the corner he also saw his sole book, The Wanderings of Gelan.  He promptly snatched it from the ground and deposited it and the snares in his pack on top of his clothes.  It was this book that had first made him dream of seeing things beyond the village.  His grandfather had given it to him when he was twelve years old, and he had read it front to back several times.  At last he would see some of the things that he had read about.  Glancing around the room, Traven realized for the first time that he really did not have many personal possessions.  After he had gathered up his clothes, a few snares, and the book, the only things that were left in his room were his small bed, a washstand, a small mirror, and an old wooden stool that was about to break.
    With one last glance at the room he had lived in for so many years, Traven threw his pack over his shoulder and deserted the room.  In the kitchen, he took the large piece of wood he had been whittling and put it into his already bulging pack.  He then hung his hunting knife from his belt.  After securing his knife, he grabbed the full water skin that was on the table and swung it over his other shoulder.  He took his father’s saddle from the corner and went around to the back of the house.  When he reached Dapple, he saddled the old horse and tied his pack to the back of the saddle.  He then untied Dapple from the tree and led him around to the front of the house.  His grandparents were already seated atop the wagon, and Traven swung up onto Dapple.  He didn’t have very much experience in riding, but Dapple was very mellow and gave him no trouble at all.
    They were soon heading down the forest road.  Traven did not look back, he needed to be strong.  He was not going to think about all that he was losing but rather about all that he was gaining.  They rode silently through the woods with Traven’s grandmother glancing sadly at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.  Traven spent most of his time staring off into the trees.  He had always felt at home in the forest.  When he was young, he had often gone hunting through the woods with his father.  It would be just as strange to leave the woods as it would be to leave his grandparents’ house and the village behind.  He knew from an old map that he had seen several years ago that there were not any major forests between Kavar and Calyn.  There were just rolling plains and hills with trees dotting the landscape only once in a while.  He was sure going to miss the familiarity of everything that he had been surrounded by since his birth.
    Slowly, the village came into view.  People milled from shop to shop and from house to house around the village going about their daily tasks.  Traven had never been really good friends with anyone in the village, but he was going to miss many of them just the same.  At least here he knew everyone’s names and what they were like.  Soon he would be surrounded completely by strangers.  It was going to be different.  It was definitely going to be different.
    As they entered the village, several people stopped to wish him a happy birthday and offer him good luck on his journey.  Mrs. Crenshaw even gave him a fresh loaf of bread to take with him.  She was matron of the small inn that sat next to the park.  She was the best cook in the village.  Anyone that stopped in the village was always treated to some of her cooking.  They always left raving about the good meals at the inn.  Traven was surprised at how many people knew that he was leaving.  He hadn’t even found out until the day before.  Yet, not much ever happened in Oak Tree, so if someone was leaving, the whole village usually knew.
    By the time Traven had finally said all of his goodbyes, it was nearly midday.  He was finally across the village, past Hand’s lumber mill, and ready to begin his journey.  He glanced