Okay guys, I wrote this short story as the first in a series of short stories, all set in the land of Taibur, roughly in the same area etc. But all told from the view of different people. Hopefully I'll be able to string them together in the end into some kind of anthology.
Anyway, here it is!
‘Morality of a Slayer’
Svin trudged through knee-deep grass, weeds and ferns. His sturdy boots left clear prints in the underbrush, many different kinds of insects jumped, startled out of their hiding place as they were exposed to the open air. Surrounding him was an assortment of all different kinds of trees and bushes, some familiar, others completely alien. This setting stretched out in all directions as far as he could see. The forest was dark, incredibly dark for broad daylight, due to the fact that the thick clump of trees around Svin all seemed to become one monolithic plant at the canopy. It was almost impossible to distinguish the leaves and branches of one tree from those of another because of their sheer density. Apart from the myriad of bugs and spiders in the forest, it looked as if there was no other life present in the forest.
But looks can be deceiving.
That was why Svin had a collection of blades concealed within his light robes, placed in strategic positions on his body so that any passerby would not notice them. He kept one dagger in a sheath on his outer belt. This was to gain an advantage if he found himself cornered by an enemy. If they saw him only sporting one dagger, they may end up underestimating him, giving Svin the element of surprise.
He mused at the idea that his target knew he was coming. After all, they were smart, it wasn’t as if he was chasing down a petty goblin.
No, what Svin was attempting to slay was a prominent war chief of the Seremi tribe.
The Seremi tribe were a group of savages living out among the distant woods of Taibur. The roots of the tribe had begun thousands of years ago in the vicinity of Svin’s home kingdom, belonging to King Ajix.
At first they had been defiant when their land had been taken over by Ajix’s ancestors.
But that defiance was short lived.
The invaders, with their superiorly advanced technology, drove the Seremi from their homes. Any that refused to leave were slaughtered mercilessly.
The Seremi escaped to the outer reaches of the forests, in the hope that they would be safe there. And they were, until just recently.
For thousands of years, the Seremi had remained quietly in the areas of the forest that no one dared to enter. But now, the current Seremi tribe were beginning to fight back against the people who had taken their land from them all those years ago. They didn’t have anywhere near as much force or technology to combat the Ajixian kingdom, so they limited themselves to taking out weakened trade carts, taking the food for themselves.
A cowardly act, according to Ajix.
And that’s why Svin was out here.
His job as a slayer was to capture - or if things got worse, to kill – anything that was proving as a hindrance to the kingdom, that was much too small to be attacked by an army. Often times, he was asked to slay a dragon that was terrorising outlying villages, or perhaps a horde of goblins that was poisoning the farms that brought in food. But now, his assignments had strayed from the glory and honour of slaying something that was a genuine threat to people. When he once would have been killing a monster that was proving to be dangerous, he would now be asked to kill members of other tribes that were in the way of the kingdom.
And there was no honour in that. Of course he received a good amount of money, but no glory was achieved in killing defenceless people.
Svin continued on walking in silence for about half an hour before stopping.
He was near his destination.
He dusted his hands off, squatted in preparation and leaped up to a nearby tree. Svin scrambled up to a nearby branch and sat for a moment, catching his breath.
If there was going to be any way to do this, he would have to do it stealthily. The Seremi may have been savages, but that didn’t mean they were inept at spotting an intruder.
Svin got to his feet carefully, and jumped up to the next branch. His hands gripped it hard, and his feet dangled in mid-air. He took in a breath of pain as he got up, he had cut his leg on a bit of bark that had been sticking out.
He bent down to look at the cut, then looked up to the next branch. It was nothing to worry about, barely a scratch.
He looked back up again and spotted the next branch.
And so, Svin slowly but surely made his way up the tree. There was no rush to get the task done, so he went slowly so as to not hurt himself more.
After about fifteen minutes of climbing, he found himself at the top of the tree.
He looked around a bit for any thick branches that could hold his weight, but also keep him hidden from view.
Svin soon found himself sitting quite comfortably on the thick branch, his legs dangled below him, giving him that tingle in his feet when they weren’t on the ground.
The setting was rather peaceful. The mid-afternoon Sun shone through the thicket of leaves in evenly distributed places, providing just the right amount of light. From where he was sitting on the branch, it looked almost like a leafy dome was covering him, sheltering him from the harsh winds outside.
Svin turned to his part of the dome, pulled apart the leaves, and cautiously stuck his head through.
He had made sure to pick a tree that rose above the lofty canopy of the other, shorter ones so he could gain a greater vantage point of what he was searching for.
And what he was searching for, was what he was looking at.
It was a tiny village, expertly hidden among the forest, miles from any other civilised life. You’d have to know what you were looking for to find it. And that was what had ensured the survival of the Seremi tribe for all those years. They were experts at hiding and escaping from threats.
The village was comprised of about ten small straw huts, and one hut about three times as large as the others. It had a solid foundation of stone, as well as a rudimentary chimney.
This, Svin guessed, was where his target would be hiding.
Around the village, he could see a number of tribe members going about their average daily business.
A few could be seen cutting down a tree at the opposite end of the clearing. Some could be seen cooking and tending to a fire in the middle of the village. And some children were running around shouting and laughing in and among the huts, playing some sort of game.
Svin felt a smile come across his face unexpectedly while watching the young ones. He quickly erased it and scolded himself, that was not the mark of a warrior. A real slayer should have no fondness of his enemies, a real slayer should have contempt, and a real slayer shouldn’t be killing human beings…
Svin shook the thought from his mind, he was here to do his job. There was no room for emotion or self regret.
Grunting, he pulled away from his view, and made his way over to the spot where the branch came off the trunk.
Svin laid his back against the gigantic column, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. He had trained himself like a hunter, he could easily go to sleep and set himself a time to wake up. He had decided he would rest now, and attack at night when his opponent was asleep, when he had an advantage.
Besides, his long journey to reach this destination had worn him out, and he would need to be well-rested to do a good job.
Svin soon found himself drift off to sleep.
He awoke several hours later to a deathly silent night. There was no noise coming from the village, nor was there any noise being made by the insects that inhabited the place. Svin had been in these forests at night many times before during his slaying trips, and he’d always been amazed that absolutely everything went quiet, even the crickets that were usually so frustratingly loud back home. He himself had heard many stories about how the entire forest slept at night because of the magic surrounding the place.
Svin knew this wasn’t realistic, as he himself was awake at that moment.
But now was not the time for wondering about the magic in the forest, now was the time to get his job done.
Svin began to make his way down the tree, now he had to be extremely careful that he didn’t make himself bleed on some protrusion that was invisible due to the low light. If he began to bleed, a trail of his own blood would give himself away to his attackers when they woke in the morning to find their chief brutally murdered.
The thought disturbed him slightly, then dismissed it by telling himself that it wasn’t murder, but a slaying.
Once he reached the ground, he went into a steady jog to the clearing in which the village was situated, and soon enough, he found himself facing the buildings at face level in the village.
He stealthily moved through the village, only sticking to the deep shadows provided by the full moonlight, just in case there was someone who was awake and looking outside.
After a few minutes of sneaking around, he arrived at the centre hut. Beside him was the fire he had seen before while up in the tree. It was now reduced to ashes and smoke.
Svin saw that that it had a window over to the side, he decided that he would go and have a look inside to see if there was anyone awake.
Looking through, he was satisfied to see a large bed at the head of the building, and a figure lying motionless under its covers. He couldn’t see anything of the figure, but he was certain that it was the chief. Perhaps, if he did his job correctly, he would be able to perform the… assassination… and get out of the village completely undetected.
Svin slipped through the front door, not bothering to conceal himself in the shadows.
Slowly and carefully, he made his way up to the bed. Still in the dark, there was no way of telling who it was. All he could really see was a bump in the bed sheets. He made his way up to the side of the bed, and raised his dagger in preparation. It would not be difficult, a few quick stabs through the sheets and he would be on his way.
He closed his eyes, and asked a prayer of forgiveness from the Gods above.
And just as he was about to perform the task, a noise unsettled him.
It was like a sniffle, too high pitched for an adult, and not coming from the bed. He looked around the room, his dagger poised at the ready.
Someone else was with him.
And then, he heard it.
A baby had begun crying in the room.
Svin looked through the shadows and over to the source of the noise. His eyes had only just begun to get accustomed to the dark, and now he could see a bit where he was going.
He looked down to see what was making the sound.
There, amongst the dark and shadows, was a rudimentary cot made of rough wool. There was a baby, tightly wrapped in blankets on the cot, crying for some unknown reason.
In that moment, as he was looking down at the baby, Svin had a revelation.
What he was about to do was wrong, extremely wrong.
He’d known it deep down inside him for a long time, but he’d always suppressed it as being orders from his superiors, and that it was what he had to do.
And it wasn’t until now, when he’d seen this baby, presumably the child of the war chief, that he’d given in.
Svin imagined the implications it would have for the baby. With no parents to take care of it, it might die.
And he did not want to be responsible for more deaths than need be.
With no hesitation at all, Svin turned on his heel and bolted out the door. He did not care if anyone spotted him, nor if he tripped and fell. All he could do now was run.
Run from his assignment, run from society, and run from his guilt.
