//------------------------------//
// Departure 
// Story: Exile 
// by Forceful Will 
//------------------------------//

	As the sun went down the other villagers returned to their huts to rest for the following day. Feigning illness, Jinx had slept through much of the day in preparation of his departure. He didn’t think anyone would want to follow him, but they might have tried to stop him. As silently as possible he wriggled into the quartet of saddlebags he had filled with supplies: two bottles of clear water; a warm blanket; dried food for several days; a few yards of rope; the obsidian knife he had made with his father; a small, wooden bowl; and the small pendant his sister had given him years before. On top of that, he drew a heavy dark-brown cloak to help distort his silhouette in case anypony spotted him out their window. 

Dusk turned to dark and Jinx listened carefully for his chance. There was the low murmur of voices outside his room indicating his father still had his newest “companion” over. He would send her away soon, with one of the few remaining pieces of jewelry that had belonged to Jinx’s mother. Jinx’s nostrils flared in anger as he remembered how father had moved onto the next mare barely a month after she had passed. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Jinx relaxed. He may have moved on quickly, but the past was the past. Jinx didn’t want his last memories of home to be ones of anger; he was leaving to put that anger behind him; to put all of the pain behind him. 

The sound from the other room changed. A mare’s voice offered a farewell and a giggle while his father chuckled. It wouldn’t be long now before Jinx could depart. He listened intently for the soft sounds of movement to die away, then slowly peered out of the curtain to his bedroom. The main room was empty, though a small fire was still lit in the center. The beads of the outer partition were swingly slightly, whether from a breeze outside or from the exit of the mare he couldn’t tell. The curtain to his father’s room was closed, and Jinx crept out of his room toward it. At the slight sound of his father’s regular breathing, he relaxed a bit. Gazing around the room, he spotted the last thing he needed before he could leave: a tiny, hoof-bound book. He slipped the book into his bags and turned to go. He pushed through the beads and outside. 

The air was chill, but not cold. The new moon was hidden from view, leaving the village dark. Jinx didn’t need the light, not tonight. He felt the familiar earth beneath his hooves and smiled. Turning east, he saw the lighter outline of the well-trod path out of the village. He walked slowly, to avoid unnecessary noise. As he passed the last hut, he felt a sudden urge to stop and look back. After taking a moment to push it down, he continued down the path out into the world beyond. 

The land for miles around the village was relatively flat, but there was a small hill just a mile away, and as he reached it, Jinx couldn’t help but turn around to look at his home. In the darkness there was little he could distinguish apart from the lines of paths between the huts. Orange firelight still emanated from a few of them, lending the village a soft, warm glow. There were things Jinx knew he would miss about home, but he knew he couldn’t stay, not at the price the villagers had asked of him. He looked up at the stars to orient himself northward and started walking. He had a long night ahead of him.