Chronicles of Hunter: Origins

These are the first two chapters of my first novel. At least, my first serious novel. Anyway, any critiques would be helpful as well as your impressions of the characters. For those worried about lenght, it's about 8,488 words long, and about 25 pages of a 450-500 page paperback, in case you were curious. I would have separated them, but I thought they made more sense put together. Hope you enjoy it and it's good to be back! (Oh, and the novel is seperated into three books, kinda like how the Lord of the Rings or the Firekeeper Saga by Jane Lindskold is set up.)

Prologue

Night of Memories

“… and so, I hereby declare, that the order of the Knights of the Wild is once again established. May we all see the day when a true king will rise to the throne.”

Everyone cheered with their cups raised as Bennick finished his speech. Everyone but Hunter, who had no cup to add to the crowd. He leaned against the wall near the back of the torch lit cavern they were housed in, and watched as everyone else began their little celebration.

There were few enough there, only twelve including himself, but it had come a long way in such a short time. Being a warrior of the order since its beginning, back before it was truly formed, Hunter knew just how much Bennick had put into reestablishing the Knights.

It wasn’t long before those who had instruments, and those who truly knew how to play them, were crafting their melodies. He didn’t bother looking to see who played what, but he could hear the whistling of a flute, a guitar and a fiddle, surprisingly sounding good together with their amateur players. The others entered the circle made by the tables and began moving to the tunes.

The tables themselves were bare of cloth, only holding plates and what food could be spared for such an occasion. It wasn’t the grandest feast he had seen, but it would serve its purpose. Hunter took in the aroma that took little time to permeate the entire area. The venison, his personal choice, caressed his nose and tempted him to move from his comfortable position, even though he wasn’t hungry. Ham, fruits, and vegetables were also out from storage. Bread was in absence because there hadn’t been time for a proper hearth to be constructed. That didn’t bother him however, for he had lived without it for quite some time. The venison, however, he thought he might pick up later in the evening.

While the others seemed to be wearing the best clothes they could find still in their possession, he simply wore his usual clothing, consisting of leather breeches and a cotton shirt. There was no need to dress fancier, at least no reason that he saw. It was an informal party, more for pleasure than an actual celebration, even if it could later become a historical event.

As the dancing began, several of those gathered looked in his direction. Nearly all of them looked away from him just as quickly. Likely, the ones who came from the city found it rude of him to be wearing armor at such an occasion. It was only on his left arm, a smooth and finely crafted leather armor set, covering his shoulder and lying across the length of his arm. He didn’t care what they thought though, as he had his reasons to wear it, and he would never remove it, for any reason. Glancing at it, as he occasionally found himself doing, he recalled how he had been unable to repay the craftsman when the armor was made. He would have to do so when he next encountered the man, for he certainly deserved a reward for his fine work.

Looking up, he found Bennick sitting at the head table, seemingly enjoying his meal and watching the dancers as well as the musicians. He was a big man, easily the largest in the cavern, but not the largest Hunter had seen. His hair was brown, shaggy, and curly, and there was a fair amount of it all over his body. The beard was not kept at great length, which would have looked ridiculous on him. Tonight, he wore his finest clothes like the others, leaving his broadsword in his room. Hunter easily recalled the times when Bennick had used that massive broadsword, Mountain Cleaver he called it, slicing through scales, armor, and an entire tree with seemingly equal ease. And yet there he sat, smiling at those gathered before him, looking like he had never held a weapon in his life. Even Hunter couldn’t help but feel at ease with Bennick, even if he did occasionally disagree with him.

Turning his gaze back towards the dancers, it wasn’t long before he spotted others of whom he knew well. The easiest to find was Rishele, swinging around the others and covering the entire dance floor with her movements, a smile on her face that barely help back laughter. Those movements reminded Hunter of the times he had seen her fight when outnumbered. The comparison brought out a rare chuckle from his lips, and he continued to watch her for a bit in contentment. He could even visualize her in combat as she danced. She weaved through and around pairs of dancers, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Her long red hair was tied back into a ponytail and she wore what one would likely consider men’s clothing, as usual. As she whipped around the dance circle, she grabbed a partner to share in her merriment.

The person that she chose to dance with, for the moment, was someone that Hunter did not enjoy being near. Tallis was the youngest member of the order and the only one younger than Hunter himself. The boy, as Hunter saw him, did not belong with the order, yet there was no place else he could go. At the moment, his blonde hair was cut extremely short and he was one of the finer dressed individuals there. Hunter looked away toward the closest torch hanging from the wall, still not understanding what Bennick saw in the boy. Bennick viewed him as a young man, and had been trying to convince Hunter of that for nearly two seasons.

There was another there that he knew well, but looking through the crowd, he could not find her. Sighing, he stood in the shadows and watched the others enjoy themselves. He began pay more attention to the music than the dancers, as it held far more for him. Though the musicians did not compare to the songs that nature could create, they made a sound all their own that was almost as pleasing. As soon as they finished their second set, they swept into a third, a slower piece that caused all the dancers, even Rishele, to dace at a slower pace. Hunter knew the piece well. Memories had tied themselves to the piece, memories he wished would remain buried, for they only brought him pain. Taking one last look at the dancers, who were now dancing formally to the somber music, he stepped away from the wall and quietly made his way to the exit.

He walked through the main hall of the extensive cavern, passing several halls on his way to the entrance. Various tunnels made their way through the mountain, leading mostly to empty caverns. It had not been long since they found the tunnels and so little had been built in them. But even Hunter could see how much could be done. With little stonework, the halls were wide enough for three men to walk comfortably side by side and tall enough so that each man could carry a spear upright. He wasn’t sure how these caverns came to be, but knew that they had been untouched by human hands until their arrival.

The music soon died off behind him, slowly being replaced by a soft pattering sound. It was a sound so familiar and welcome that he knew it in an instant. What had been left of the evening sun was now covered by clouds, and a light rain had begun. Hunter took off his cotton shirt as he reached the opening, laid it on the dry stone of the tunnel, and sat on the ledge of the cliff with his legs off the end. He always felt at peace in the rain, and relaxed, letting the rain wash away the slight tension that had begun and bringing him calm. Even the rain brought back memories though, as the song had, but these memories were ones he was far fonder of. A time when life was beginning, a journey starting, and a purpose was entering his life.

“Hunter?” he heard a young woman’s voice next to him.

He recognized the voice instantly, and looked up to meet Leona’s eyes. The light blues eyes seemed to almost shine in a way through the evening rain. Her face seemed so delicate at the moment, but he had seen that face with a fiercer look on it, and knew there was strength behind those gentle features. He looked at her without a word, knowing there was nothing he needed to say.

“I guess you wouldn’t be one for a party, would you?” she asked.

“No, but it was a good idea. Those inside will be better off for it.”

“But not you.” Though it was a statement, there was still a bit of a questioning tone involved.

There was nothing he could say to that, and so he looked out across the dark horizon, at the forest below and the plains far to the east. For a time only the rain made a sound, a gentle rain that merely pattered against the unmoving stone of the mountain, as well as those sitting on the stone.

“Does this seem familiar to you?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “Like the first time we met; only you had your swords with you then.”

He smiled at the comment. He had actually thought about wearing his swords to the party, being as much a part of him, if not more so, than his armor. But, with only the slightest persuasion from Bennick, he had decided to go without them for the evening. Those who had joined the order more recently seemed to avoid him, and he had heard from more than one of them that he was a spy for the king, or at least a dangerous and untrustworthy man. As much as he wanted to wear his blades, he knew that unity among the order was more important, and wearing his swords would only create animosity towards him in the order. And the order was where he belonged.

“You still think about it, don’t you?’ Leona’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. Only then did he realize that he had again been staring at the armor.

“Yes.” There was no point lying to her, and he didn’t want to anyway.

“He’s resting in peace Hunter. Please, trust me in that.”

He looked away towards the horizon once more. He didn’t know how she could know, but he still trusted her word, simply because he trusted her. She had shown herself to be a very talented individual. The first time she had shown her abilities was when he had first met her. It had been nearly two cycles ago, on an evening not too unlike the one they now shared.

A Chance Encounter

The rain came down gently in the forest, just enough to discourage most of its inhabitants from being out and about. There were a few birds who looked for worms, and a few smaller animals who where not as bothered by rain as the others. Nearly alone, Hunter sat on a branch in the middle of a large oak, his back resting against the trunk. His eyes took in everything on the ground below him.

There was little to see however, and so he closed his eyes and returned to what he had been doing, listening to the rain. He let out a deep breath, letting his mind rest. The rain never failed to set his mind at ease. Perhaps it even put his soul at ease, but that was deeper than he really cared to think. Such thoughts did nothing for him, and so he let them go.

A slight crack caught his attention, and Hunter looked down to see what it was. A young buck had stepped on a twig, looking around with ears swiveling back and forth, as they often were. For a moment, Hunter contemplated descending on the deer, with it walking near his tree. It was tempting, as hunting was often difficult. He had to track the deer, often for hours, and the deer would occasionally escape him. Though he could chase down many smaller creatures, he could not catch a deer in flight.

The deer walked by, and Hunter did not move. He had hunted the day before and caught his prey, a larger deer than the one that had passed him. It had been his most successful hunt yet. Hunter drew one of the blades from the scabbards set crossing over each other on his back, recalling the kill.

He had crept up to that deer to within feet, staying downwind as nearly silent on the forest floor. Creeping so low and slow he had been on all fours more than once in his approach. The deer had caught on to him when he closed, and he had frozen without breathing for what seemed like hours. He had stared into its black eyes through a bush, watching it intently. Finally, the deer had gone back to grazing. With his sword in hand, he had leapt forward and thrust the blade through its heart before it could react. The deer struggled for only a moment before it fell to the ground. For the first time, Hunter had not had to track the deer.

Looking at the blade, he watched the rain roll off each sharp edge. The sight of the blade though, brought back memories. Memories of his father. The swords had been a gift from his father when he was thirteen, made by a blacksmith friend of his father’s. They had been his for seven cycles now, if he remembered correctly. For the last two cycles, they had replaced his broken bow as his means of hunting.

It had been for cycles since he had last seen his father, and the pain of his absence came back to Hunter as a dull pain in his heart. Four cycles before, when he had worriedly awaited his father’s return. He had waited much of the night, and awoke in the morning to find a hawk at the windowsill with a note. The note was from his father, telling him to enter the forest and wait for his return. Hunter had done so without hesitation, and had since made the forest his home.

Recently, the thought of leaving the forest and searching for his father had entered his mind. But even though he was restless with patience, he hesitated to go. The world outside the forest was one he did not know. Even when he had lived with his father, they had lived in a cabin far from any other towns. The closest he had only visited once, and never wanted to return to. Other than that one trip, he knew nothing of the kingdom except for his father’s stories.

The argument of whether to stay and wait or go and search was one he had had with himself often with the coming of his restlessness. Taking a deep breath, he let the rain calm his nerves once again. It was not something he wanted to contemplate at the moment. All he wanted to do now was relax. Soon, he drifted to sleep.

The boy stood ready, wooden practice swords in hand, watching his father. The light rain made watching his slight movements harder, but the boy knew that applied to himself as well. He had ceased complaining the day before and now saw the rain as just part of his surroundings, as his father had taught him.

“All right son” his father called after some slow circling, “You’re not working against the rain. Good. You should only work against your opponent.”

The boy hadn’t even realized that was what his father was teaching. He had thought he was past that. It didn’t matter now, and he took a few steps closer to his father while still slowly circling.

The lessons had been coming more often now that he was strong enough to practice with his father. More often, as well as harder. But he did not take them with a heavy heart; he embraced them. Even now, cold and wet, his entire focus was on his training. Much of his enthusiasm was from hearing his fathers stories of the world, and wanting to one day see all those places for himself. The boy also just loved the challenge it offered him, both in body and mind.

His father took several quick strides to close the distance in a moment and took a swing with his own practice sword at the boy’s head. The boy quickly brought up his own sword, hitting his father’s and deflecting it, ducking at the same time. He could never out muscle his father, and so found himself using such tactics often. Down low, he brought around his other sword to hit his father’s leg.

Wood met wood as his father intercepted the strike, and the boy leaped back to avoid a counter. Again they stood, out of reach, watching each other.

This time, for the first time, the boy made the first move. He charged, swinging one sword low and one high. His father easily countered, but the boy had not meant to hit with those strikes. With his father’s blades separated, he got one blade loose and went for the opening made between his father blades. However, his father was too quick and deflected the blow. The boy moved with the deflected blade and made another strike with the other blade.

The exchange continued through the steadily increasing rain. The two were locked together, the boy pushing his body and mind to the limit trying to hit his father. Anger rose as time after time his strikes were blocked, deflected, and outright dodged. Then, before he realized it, one of his father’s swords came down on his head, sending his face into the mud.

He was slow to rise, as his head was swimming, but he managed to get his head out of the mud. The first thing he caught as his head cleared was his father’s amused chuckling over the now pouring rain. “Son, you can’t attack in anger like that. You will lose every time.”

At first the boy wanted to argue, but he knew his father was right. He had lost focus, and that made him miss the strike that would have ended his life had it been a real blade of steel. As he wiped the mud from his face, realizing his mistake, he saw his father’s hand next to him. He took it, and his father pulled him to his feet.

“You did well though son” he noted over the rain. “You are improving. Just watch your temper. I have to admit that you are a better student than I was at your age.”

His father’s admission surprised him, and it clearly showed on his face, for his father laughed. “Yes, at your age I thought I knew everything about being a swordsman. Fortunately, my teacher was patient with me, and I learned. Now, let us get out of the rain before you become ill.”

The boy readily agreed, and began to jog back to the cabin. A cabin now empty, without his mother…

Hunter awoke with a start, cutting his left arm against the bark of the tree as he involuntarily jerked. He hardly noticed it, as his mind was on the dream. Never before had a dream of his been so vivid. It had been a memory, one that he now recalled in full. Hunter hardly even recognized the boy that had been him. Unbidden, a bit of a tear fell from his eye, to join the rain that gently beat his face.

Still unnerved, and down hearted, he examined the cut at the back of his arm. It wasn’t much, he had had far worse, and the rain washed away what trickle of blood was coming out. Even so, it was a long cut, and would need to be treated. He knew how such minor wounds could lead to infection, having dealt with that problem once before.

The rain had begun to increase, though at the moment it was still tolerable. Knowing how quickly that could change, Hunter relinquished his perch and landed on the rain softened ground. His legs and the ground helped absorb the impact and it did not hurt as it once had. A short distance away was a vine covered bluff, at which was his home.

The cave entrance was covered in vines nearly all four seasons, and was a welcome addition. It kept out most of the curious animals and allowed him peace and quiet. Pushing these aside, he made his way down the tunnel into the hillside. It was only about six strides, and a right turn brought him to his dwelling.

It was simple enough, for there was little that he needed. The entire area was only half the size of the cabin he had once called home. At the far end were the fur blankets on which he slept in the colder seasons. The fur was from a black bear, the caves former inhabitant. On the left were his clothes, leather of his making, in piles on the floor. His old clothes, the ones he had entered the forest with, he had long since outgrew and he had made new ones from the animals he took for his meals. On the right, he carefully laid down his blades.

Walking over to his furs, he sat down on them and set his back against the cool stone. He had never had a dream as vivid as the one in the tree, one that nearly caused him to fall out of the tree. In his heart, he wanted to see his father again, but in his mind he knew that such a search would likely be useless, and highly dangerous. He knew nothing of the outside world except for a home that was no longer his home and a town of which he despised. Going nearly blind and in ignorance was no way to find anything or anyone. The conclusion made him feel no better.

His mind would not surrender the problem, making him even more restless. Hunter knew that he had to do something, but just what he needed to do and how stayed aggravatingly out of reach. After four cycles of waiting, he knew he could wait no longer. But what could he do? Father, where are you?

* * *

It was raining for the third day in a row and though Leona had never minded it before, being in it for three days was beginning to get to her. She and her new companion Bennick had been traveling with few stops for several days, Leona having lost track of the number in her fatigue. He pressed on hard and she followed having recently understood their plight. Bennick had explained it a few days before and though she had not known him long, he had struck her as an honest man.

However, she didn’t want to do their pursuers any favors by pushing themselves too hard in the rain. “Bennick, please, we need to stop, to rest. I understand why we haven’t stopped yet, but if we keep going like this, we’ll only help them.”

Bennick finally stopped and turned around to face her. He was a big man, the biggest she had seen. He was also the hairiest she had seen. Though he had both trimmed his beard and hair at her home, his hair already seemed long. Strangely enough, his beard had not grown out as much as his hair had.

“Leona,” he said in his deep voice, “I understand how you feel, but we can not stop yet. Remember, I barely escaped my own home, and the king wants both of us. I for what he likely calls murder and you for other reasons. As well as the items you now carry.”

The items he referred to were now in a pack resting on her back. She had yet to see the items, or understand their importance. They were not all that heavy, which she had been relieved of when she first began carrying them, but she carried two such packs. In addition to her pack of medicines, it made a fair amount to carry for as long as she had.

Bennick would likely have carried the items himself, but it was difficult with the broadsword sheathed across his back. It was a massive weapon, one she had never seen the like of before. The thought of the broadsword reminded her of her own new weapon, a rapier now sheathed at her hip. She had no idea how to use it though, and Bennick did not know how to train her. Leona feared that she was more likely to hurt herself than an enemy, and be unable to assist Bennick.

She pushed away the troubling thoughts, bringing her mind back to her original concern. “I know Bennick, but if we both fall ill or injure ourselves, then all of this will have been for nothing.” Leona found it hard to have any conviction about their flight, as Bennick had explained little in the time they had been together. All she knew was that Bennick was wanted for murder. Whether he did or not, she wasn’t sure, but she had a feeling that he had killed before. It was something in his eyes.

Yet, she saw something else in those eyes as well. There was kindness there. It was that feeling that had led her to trust him, and to follow him this far. That, and the fact that he had saved her life.

Bennick let out a heavy sigh. “You are right. This is too important to end here. But we can not stop in the open. The next area of shelter we find, we will stop to rest.”

She still did not understand what was so important about the task Bennick had clearly set for himself, but she was relieved to find that obsession had not clouded his mind. However, the forest was not likely to be very forgiving, as there were simply giant oaks all around. The only shelter they were likely to find was up in those trees, which she highly doubted they would do.

The rain continued to beat on them relentlessly as they continued, at a slower pace Leona noted. The days of travel had begun to wear on her, as she was not used to such hard travel. Bennick had likely noticed, and no longer felt the urgency of the chase. A chase that Leona doubted was even in place at the moment. No one in their right minds would travel through such conditions, and their trail was nearly instantly lost in the rain.

After a time, which seemed to blend with the rest, Leona noticed a short bluff ahead and to the right of them. Bennick had apparently noticed it as well, as he turned towards it and picked up the pace a bit. The bluff was only some twelve feet or so, nowhere near the height of the trees that surrounded them, but it blocked the rain. At least partly.

“Leona, stay here where it is a bit dryer. I will make a shelter where we can stay for a while.” With that, he walked into the woods and was soon picking up what branches he could find. Leona went out to join him.

“You’re not doing this by yourself. If you become ill there is only so much I can do for you, you should know that.”

“Leona” he protested, “Please, stay out of the rain as much as you can. I can do this on my own and I don’t want you falling ill.”

“And what if you become ill?” she shot back. “The sooner we can get some shelter up, the sooner we can both get out of the rain.”

Bennick ceased to protest, but she could see a look of concern on his face. She ignored it. Though she was not used to hard travel, she was no stranger to the woods. Her father had taught her to make such shelters, and she finally used those lessons now. As Bennick found branches large and sturdy enough to support the kind of shelter they needed, she looked for smaller branches that still had a fair amount of leaves on them. If she could find enough to layer, they would make a sturdy roof.

As she searched, she had the unnerving feeling that they were being watched. The most unnerving part was that whenever she had the feeling, she was always right. She kept her eyes and ears alert as much as she could with the rain as she collected the leafy branches. The feeling persisted, for longer than she thought. Those who had assaulted her at her home had been far blunter in their actions. Men Bennick claimed worked for the king. If it wasn’t the same people, then who was watching them?

“What is wrong?” Bennick apparently noticed her nervousness, and she realized that she had stopped.

“Oh, nothing. Just a bit nervous, that’s all. A lot’s happened.”

“I know. Do not worry Leona; I will not let anything happen to you. I promise.” With a smile, he went back to setting one of the branches into the ground to support a roof. Reassured, Leona went back to collecting branches. But the feeling persisted.

As they worked, the wind shifted direction, coming more from the east than the south. The bluff no longer provided as much protection as it had, but their makeshift shelter helped. The two sat under it, huddled together to stay under.

“Bennick, what are we going to do?”

He looked down at her a moment, and Leona could already see the answer in his eyes. “I do not know exactly. I know what needs to be done, just not how to do it.”

Leona had heard his evasive answers one too many times. “What needs to be done Bennick? What is it that is so important? Why is the king after you? Why is he after me? Please, answer me.”

He looked around, as though he thought others may be listening. “Leona, there is much that I need to explain, I know. I will explain it all, but not now. Now, we should rest. Is that not what you said?”

She couldn’t argue, as that had been what she said. Still, she wanted to know what this was all about. But even though she wanted to know, she knew that they both needed the rest. The rain still beating their sides made the task difficult however, and she began to wonder if they could get any rest while they were still in the storm.

“Hello” a voice suddenly called. Bennick was up in an instant, and drew his broadsword.

Leona grabbed his arm saying quietly, “Please Bennick, I doubt anyone with intentions to hurt us would say ‘hello’ first.”

“Please, come out of the rain” came the voice again. A mans voice she noticed. Looking further along the bluff, she noticed that some of the vines were no longer resting against the stone. She couldn’t see anyone, but she was sure the man was standing under those vines.

Bennick still held the broadsword before him. “Who are you?!”

“I am Hunter. Please, there is a cave here you can take shelter in.”

Leona stood up and quickly walked towards the stranger before Bennick could stop her. “Leona, come back here!”

She ignored him and soon saw the man who had offered them shelter. He seemed young, with unevenly cut straight hair and stubble over much of his face. “Thank you Hunter” was all she said. Bennick was right behind her, and she turned back to see that he had relaxed a bit. Hunter pushed away the vines further to show them the tunnel he stood in and stepped aside.

Leona accepted the invitation, only then noticing the sword held loosely in his other hand. It rested on the ground, in no position to be used. Hunter did not even move it when Bennick stepped in with his own sword ready. She noted how Hunter did not even seem the least bit worried at facing such an armed man.

Motioning with his free hand, Hunter led them into the hillside. Glancing back at Bennick again, she could tell he was still wary of the stranger. A reasonable reaction, but Leona felt that it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t seem like the man who would kill them in their sleep. She was usually right about those feelings as well. She found it odd that he wore no shirt, as she felt that the tunnel was cool. Then again, she was soaked to the bone.

There was a light coming from the right at the end of the tunnel, and it was only a few steps before they reached it. Turning, she saw that it was not merely a cave. It was clearly the man’s home. Clothes and wood were all stacked to one side, fur blankets were at the back, and a pair of sheaths lay on the ground on the right, with a warm fire burning near the center of the cavern.

She moved to the fire at quickly sat down, eager to get herself warm. The relief was nearly instant as the heat of the fire made itself felt along her skin. Bennick joined her, apparently more at ease. Leona scooted closer to the fire. For the first time in a long time, she was comfortable.

* * *

Hunter sheathed his sword into its scabbard. His two guests were no threat, and he felt no need to be armed anymore. The large man had finally put his sword away. Hunter had never seen such a sword, nor had he ever seen the kind sheathed at Leona’s waist. But now wasn’t the time to ask such things. The two travelers needed rest, outside of the rain.

He noticed Leona moving closer to the fire. “Don’t get too close. Even wet clothes can catch fire and it is usually better to warm slowly.”

She looked up at him, a guilty smile on her face. “Thank you, I should know better. I’m a healer.”

Hunter nodded, and moved towards the pile of wood for the fire. He only had a small fire going for himself and assumed that the two would need a stronger fire to get warm. The two now sat at the fire, drying and warming themselves. Hunter had never had guests, but the two seemed to be decent people. He had overheard them talking outside the tunnel, and by his guess were simply travelers. Though oddly unprepared.

“Thank you Hunter. I am Bennick and this is Leona. It is kind of you to bring us into your home.”

“There was no reason to leave you two in the rain” Hunter replied, grabbing an armful of wood. “You two needed shelter, and this cave was right here.”

Leona caught his eyes again as she took off her traveling cloak. “Still, this is your home. Thank you for helping us.”

Having nothing more to say about it, Hunter simply accepted the thanks in silence. It had been a long time since he had dealt with anyone but his father and he didn’t know why the two made a big deal over his help. His father would have done the same thing with his home. Brushing it aside, he began to stack wood on the fire, carefully setting the pieces so that they caught fire quickly.

“What happened to your arm?” Leona asked suddenly, moving closer to him. Hunter wasn’t sure what she was talking about for a moment, then remembered the cut from the tree.

“Cut it on some tree bark while climbing. It’s nothing serious” he added when he saw her worried expression.

“Rarely is a cut not serious” she all but scolded. “Even minor cuts can lead to infections. I’ve seen lesser cuts kill a man. Now, let me see your arm.”

Hunter didn’t see why she was so concerned. It was a minor cut that he would deal with before he slept. He had had far worse and lived. The seriousness she was giving such a minor cut seemed a bit much.

Still, she could do him no harm, and so he held out his arm for her to look at. She examined it a while, as though it were a full wound. Her expression briefly reminded him of the looks his mother made when she examined the cuts he received after practicing with real blades with his father. Even those cuts had been minor.

“Well, it doesn’t look too bad. But let me get some things from my pack. I know how to make such a cut heal faster without fear of infection.” She reached into one of the two packs she had set down against the wall, pulling out several herbs. Hunter hadn’t seen some of the herbs before, and he knew every plant in the forest. The two must have traveled some distance before arriving near his home.

She ground the herbs between her fingers until they made a powder, and carefully made sure that none fell from her hand. “Now, this will sting briefly, but it will dull quickly.”

Instead of turning his arm over to have the cut face up as he had expected, she kept his arm in place so that he could not see where her finger touched. There was a brief and light sting, lighter than he thought it would be, followed by a strange cooling sensation. It was not only on his skin, but he felt it down in his muscles as well. It moved with her finger as she slowly moved them down the length of the cut.

He took his gaze off his arm and looked at Leona herself. Her eyes were closed, and it looked as though she were concentrating. Why would someone need that much concentration to apply medicine to a surface cut? When her fingers had run the length of the cut, she removed them and opened her eyes. “How do feel?”

The coolness had left with her fingers and he turned his arm around to examine the cut. There was no cut. It had completely disappeared, without even a trace of where it had once been. Hunter stared at his arm a moment. There were no plants that could have healed flesh that quickly, that he knew for certain, and he couldn’t imagine the herbs causing the coolness. That had seemed to come from Leona’s fingers. What had she done?

“Thank you” was all he could manage to say. His mind simply couldn’t comprehend what had happened, and he had a hard time accepting the explanation now coming to mind. That she had healed his cut by her will.

“You’re welcome.” She apparently didn’t realize the shock he was in. “Just helping out. Like you helped us.”

With difficulty, he pushed the mystery aside. He could think on it later. Right now he had to deal with the two strangers, who were no longer simple travelers to him.

Staring at her as he was, Hunter noticed that she still seemed quite wet. If she stayed in those wet clothes, there was a good chance that she could still fall sick. As he got up and walked towards his stack of clothes, which he guessed would fit well enough to be comfortable, he asked, “So, what are you two doing this far in the woods?”

There was a bit of an awkward silence, were Leona gave Bennick an odd look. As Hunter picked up both a leather shirt and breeches, Bennick replied “We were traveling to Haven City, but it seems that we have become lost.”

“Hunter” Leona spoke up, “You know this forest well, right?”

He nodded as he walked over with the clothes. “Here, put these on. You should get out of your wet clothes before you become sick.” Looking past her to Bennick he added, “I don’t have anything that you could fit.”

Leona looked as though she was about to protest, but took the clothes and set them next to her on the stone floor. “Thank you Hunter. I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask with how much you’ve done for us already, but,” and she hesitated, “could you be our guide through the forest? We’re ill prepared to continue as lost as we are.

Bennick gave her a hard glare before returning to his passive look. Hunter guessed that Bennick did not like the offer, but an idea was forming in his mind as he thought about the offer. Guiding them would likely be necessary, as if they were lost they would likely die of starvation before they reached anywhere hospitable. That he would do simply because there was no reason to let them die needlessly.

What he thought about was the idea of a guide. He could easily be their guide through these woods, but they could be his guides through the kingdom. They knew places he didn’t, people he didn’t, and how the world worked outside the forest, as he knew it was different but did not know how. And, at the back of his mind, he wanted to figure out what Leona had done and how she had done it, as well as finding the meaning to the questions he had overheard her asking Bennick.

“There is a town not to far from here that I know of. I can guide you there once the rain stops and you are ready to go. For now, I suggest you both rest.”

“Thank you Hunter. Now, could you both give me a little privacy as I change?”

Bennick rose immediately and walked to the tunnel. Hunter wasn’t sure why she felt she needed privacy. His mother had, on occasion, undressed before his father and him. Still, there was no need to press, and there was no way she could steal anything, so he stood up and followed Bennick into the tunnel.

Hunter leaned against the wall, and Bennick stood opposite of him. In the silence, Hunter could hear Leona undressing, the wet clothes falling heavily to the floor. Her sigh of relief told him that she was happy to be out of her wet clothes. However, as far as Hunter could hear, she did not pick up the clothes he had given her right after that. What was she doing in there?

“So Hunter, what is it that you do?” Bennick asked, drawing Hunter’s attention to him.

“I live here. What about you?” Perhaps he could learn something.

Bennick gave a light smile. “You live here? How do you make a living?”

The question seemed at first ridiculous, until he remembered what his parents had once told him. Everyone worked to make what they needed and traded for what they could not. His father had been what he called a bounty hunter, though he had never truly explained to Hunter what that was. His mother was a traveling musician, and had played for him often. However, there was nothing that he did like that.

“I hunt” he said simply, not liking how Bennick had ignored his own question.

“Is that why you call yourself Hunter?”

He stared at Bennick a while. What was the man trying to get at? “What is it that you do?”

Bennick returned the look. “Former militia man. I am looking to start over since finding that life in a small town was not for me.”

The lie was obvious to Hunter, but he nodded and decided to let it go. Trust was something that could wait. First, he would be their guide, and learn who they were.

“Where did you get the swords?” Bennick asked after a moment.

“Where did you get your sword? I’ve never seen one so large before.”

Bennick did not answer, and Hunter said no more. If the man was not willing to tell him anything, he was not going to tell Bennick anything. He rested against the wall, looking at Bennick and trying to see if his body might say something that his mouth had not. His hands were calloused, so he likely had used the sword before. The clothes were ragged, his skin darkened by sun, and his face guarded. He had seen the look before. It was much like how his father looked when he had gone with his father into town. A face that was completely neutral.

“You two can come back now.” With Leona’s call, Hunter stepped from the wall and back into the cavern. Leona stood there by the fire, now in the leather clothes of his making. They seemed to fit well, only a little large on her. She didn’t seem to mind. By her size, Hunter guessed that she couldn’t be all that much older than himself.

To Hunter, Leona looked better in the leather than she would have in her other clothes if they had been dry. With the layers off, Hunter could see her far better. She was a bit smaller than she first seemed to be, with almost no fat on her and only the barest of muscle. And yet, even as he looked at her, she did not really seem weak in any way. Though small, she did not appear frail. That meant more to Hunter than any part of her looks.

Thinking about it, she was the first woman he had seen since his mother’s death. Frustrated at the memories that brought, he walked over to his furs and sat down. Bennick had followed him back and sat down where he had been before, nodding to Leona in apparent approval. Leona’s gaze though had followed Hunter.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You should get some sleep, both of you. It will be several days traveling to the town.”

“What town is it, if you know?” Bennick asked.

“Tennice I believe. It’s been a long time since I was last there, but it should still be there.”

“Yes, I have heard the name before. Very well, when the rain ends, we can set out. Again, thank you for allowing us into your home. Now, I believe we should get some rest, as Hunter suggested.”

Both Leona and Bennick found as comfortable a position as they could find on the floor and Hunter lay down on his furs. He stayed there a time, contemplating what would come. For the first time in a long time, he would enter a town, and see other people. He hadn’t really thought about it until this moment, but he truly knew nothing on how people behaved. He knew they all weren’t like his parents. In fact, he knew more about the inhabitants of the forest than he did his own people. Well, that’s what guides were for.

When he knew that both were asleep, Hunter got up and began looking through their pack, hoping to find some answers. First, he looked through the pack Leona had taken the herbs out of. What he found didn’t surprise him. There were a couple wooden containers with writing on them, indicating their contents, both herb and liquid from what he heard. At the bottom of the pack was a small amount of food, which likely wouldn’t last more than two sunsets between the two of them. It seemed he would have to hunt for them on the way.

Opening the other pack, he was surprised. The items seemed quite unusual for a long trip. There were various odd items lying on top of what seemed to be a large sheet made of small bits of metal. He took out the first item sitting on top, a ring in the shape of a falcon. Its wings curved down from the body, forming the ring, and seemed to be made of silver. The detail of the thing captured his attention. Every feather was in place, the eyes gazing ahead, and muscles pushing the wings in a down stroke. It was the perfect representation of a falcon in flight except for the circular curve of the wings to make it a ring.

Setting aside the ring, he pulled out what appeared to be a book. The leather binding was worn by time, yet he could tell that it was once of better quality than his leather clothing. He flipped through the pages and found that it was not a book, but a journal. The dates were meaningless to him, and he could not find a reason to read it, as he doubted that it was either Bennick’s or Leona’s.

Next, he pulled out the metal sheet that had first caught his attention. Holding it in front of him, he saw that it was a shirt of some kind, with long sleeves and long in the torso, made of metal like his swords. The small pieces of metal joined together so that it allowed the wearer freedom of movement. Hunter thought the shirt quite useful.

When he went to replace the items, he noticed that there was one still at the bottom of the pack. Setting down the metal shirt, he picked up the last item. It was a necklace, a chain link necklace with a small wolf head cut out of metal hanging on it. He held it before him, unable to take his eyes off of it. The necklace swung gently from his fingers, now caressing the metal. He had seen the necklace before. It had once been his mother’s, a gift from his father. After her death, his father had taken it and wore it always.

His father never removed the necklace, so what was it doing in the pack? What was it doing in Bennick’s possession? He held back tears as he realized what the necklace meant. Something truly had happened to his father. His father would never remove the necklace, not on his own. He stared at Bennick a while, wondering how Bennick had gotten the necklace. Eventually, he let his gaze down and put the rest of the items back into the pack.

Hunter sat back down on the furs, and put the necklace around his neck. It was rightfully his, until he found his father, and he would wear it. He put on a leather shirt to keep it from the sight of the others, and then he lay down on the furs and went to sleep.

More chapters will be posted here as I finish them.