They say that the first step is always the hardest, but which step is the first step? Surely there were other steps leading up to that metaphorical first step. In some instances there could be several supposed first steps, depending on the point of view.

Kera was, in her own estimation, too philosophical for her own good and being so near a new beginning had a tendency to bring out that side of her even more. Sometimes she didn’t mind it, and at times she really enjoyed sitting down and thinking deeply about life and its varied twists and turns. However, when there was work to be done she found such thoughts to be distracting rather than uplifting. Even now, as she was trying to get ready, she found herself delayed by her musings over how distracting her own thoughts could be.

She shook her head with a smile and cleared her mind. She’d have plenty of time for thinking later. Now was a time for doing. She finished coiling the rope she’d been gathering up and tied it off to the side of her pack. Inside the pack were mostly food stuffs, dried and preserved to last for the long journey ahead. Beside the rations she placed a couple of clay pots, tightly sealed with wax, filled with salves and ointments for dressing wounds. She doubted she would need them, but they didn’t weigh much and she would much rather have them and not need them than to need them and not have them. Last to be added were an extra pair each of walking shoes and sturdy leather gloves.

Her pack now filled, Kera buckled it closed and slid it off to one side while she gave the room one last look over. The wattle and daub walls were bare and the few furnishings she did have were now all but empty. She’d loaded most of her belongings onto her boat the day before but most of that would only be useful during the voyage across the sea itself. From there she’d only be able to take what she could carry. With that in mind, knowing that she’d better start getting use to it now, she began donning her armor. Traveling in the wilds was a dangerous business and everyone she’d ever met who wandered those ways did so in their armor as a precaution against being caught unawares. Their armor always looked well used and sturdy and they moved comfortably within it as though it were nothing more than their natural skin. For Kera, her armor looked too new, felt too heavy, and when she moved she felt awkward and encumbered.

Giving her room a final nod goodbye, she hefted her pack and strode out and into the first rays of sunrise. It was a remarkably quiet morning. Her family and the rest of her clan were gone on a raid and would not return for another several days. Such raids were common, and Kera joined them as often as she could. This raid, however, it was her turn to stay behind to tend to their village while the others were gone. Even without having to occasionally stay behind, the raids were too few and far between for her liking. She yearned for even more adventure and she saw this as her opportunity to go out and find it.

Such desertions weren’t uncommon among clans, and often were seen as a means for their collective growth since those who returned would be that much more experienced and better able to help the clan. Other times, wanderers from other clans would find them and join them, thus joining the knowledge and strengths of the two clans.

Either way, Kera was setting out for her own adventure, come what may, and perhaps some day she would return with newfound knowledge and strength that would bolster her people. Or perhaps she wouldn’t return. Perhaps she’d find some other clan to join? Or maybe she would never settle down again. She might join the wandering dead, those who died while seeking adventure, clanless and therefore unable to rest after death.

Kera tried not to think of that possibility. All who wandered ran the risk of suffering that fate. She’d heard tales from others about the lost spirits they’d encountered, and the endless torment they experienced. And yet even those tales could not deter her from leaving. She felt the call, the need to go and test herself against the wilds. Only the Seer’s of old knew what lay ahead of her or whether or not she’d return one day to her clan.

Before she knew it, she was standing on the shore looking out towards her ship. She’d been building it in secret for the last year or so, testing it out and learning to sail by the stars, the winds, and the waves. All that was left to her now to do was to jump aboard and set sail.

She did not move.

Her life had been leading up to this moment for years, ever since she was young and dreamed of adventure. Excitement and terror and a thousand other emotions roiled inside of her.

The first step is always the hardest, they say.

Kera breathed in deeply and made her left foot step down off the shore and into the water. The cold water seeped quickly into her shoes and wicked up her pant leg. Her right leg followed soon after. She kept taking another step and then another until she was beside her boat and could heave herself aboard.

With that first step over and done, Kera set her back to the shore and faced out towards the sea. What lands lay beyond, shed only heard tell, but she would learn of them for herself and then…well, perhaps then there would other first steps she’d have to take.