The sun had barely begun to peak over the horizon when Drakon's rough hand shook Lucian awake. "Up and at 'em, boy," he growled. "We've got work to do before we go hunting."

Lucian groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What's so urgent?"

"I told you. We’re going to create a spear," Drakon replied, already strapping an ax to his belt. "Now, get up."

Fully awake now, Lucian scrambled to his feet, grabbing his own ax. They set off into the nearby forest, leaving their campsite behind. The early morning air was crisp, dew clinging to the grass and leaves around them.

Drakon scanned the trees as they walked. "We're looking for ash," he explained. "Straight grain, no knots. It'll make for a good spear."

"How will I know when we've found the right one?"

"You'll know."

"That’s not much to go on."

They pushed deeper into the forest, the sounds of wildlife growing louder around them. Suddenly, Drakon held up a hand, stopping Lucian in his tracks.

"There," he said, pointing to a slender tree. "That's what we want."

It stood tall, its trunk reaching towards the sky. Its smooth bark was a pale gray color, almost silver in the morning light. The long, thin branches stretched out like arms, covered in small green leaves. Small birds flit around its branches, singing their morning songs.

"It looks... kinda small."

Drakon chuckled. "It's not the size that matters. It's the quality. This one's straight, with no visible defects. Perfect for our needs."

"Ok. Shall we start?"

Stepping up to the tree, Drakon readied his ax. "Let me do it first."

"Be my guest."

The old man placed his ax on his shoulder while tapping the branch with his free hand. "You want to make your cuts at an angle here, create a 'V' shape in the trunk. Let me show you."

With strong swings, he began to chop. Chips of wood flew as his ax bit into the tree. After a few minutes, he stepped back, gesturing for Lucian to take over.

"Your turn," Drakon said. "Remember, control over power. Let the ax do the work."

Lucian gripped the ax handle, trying to mimic the old man's stance. His first few swings were clumsy, barely leaving a mark on the tree.

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Easy," Drakon cautioned. "You're trying too hard. Relax your grip a bit."

Taking a deep breath, Lucian adjusted his hold and tried again. This time, the ax connected more, sending a satisfying shower of wood chips to the forest floor.

"Better," Drakon nodded. "Keep at it."

They took turns, slowly working their way through the trunk. Finally, with a creaking groan, the tree toppled.

"Now for the real work," Drakon said, pulling out a knife. "We need to strip the bark and shape the shaft."

Over the next hour, Drakon guided Lucian through the process of transforming the raw wood into a serviceable spear. They stripped away the rough outer bark, smoothed the shaft, and carefully shaped one end into a sharp point.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, they finally stepped back to admire their handiwork. The finished spear was about as tall as Lucian, its tip sharp.

"Not bad for your first try," Drakon said. "It'll serve you well if you treat it right."

Lucian hefted the spear, getting a feel for its weight and balance. It felt... right in his hands, like an extension of his arm.

"Nice," he said. "It’s lightweight."

"That’s right. Keep this in mind, this weapon is not meant to kill soldiers, only animals."

"Why?"

"The tip is wooden. It can’t penetrate armor. You’ll need more weight and a strong metal tip to go through a soldier’s armor."

"I see. What’s next?"

"Now, we hunt. Come on, we've got ground to cover."

The forest canopy filtered the morning light as Drakon led Lucian deeper into the woods. Their newly crafted spears are ready for their first real test.

"Listen up," the old warrior said. "Hunting isn't just about killing. It's about understanding the land and the animals that live in it."

Lucian nodded, eyes scanning the forest floor. Drakon pointed to a small clearing ahead.

"See that? Animals come here to drink and feed. Look for tracks, droppings, or disturbed vegetation. They'll tell you what's been here and how recently."

"But how do you know which is which? I couldn’t tell my shit let alone a deer’s shit."

"It’s easy, you look at the shape and the size. Deer pellets are small and rounded. If we're lucky, we might come across a boar's trail; their droppings are bigger, messier."

"Easy for you to say. The only shit I’ve seen back home are mine and the farm animals."

"That’s why we’re here. I’m going to show you different types of animal shits."

"Alright. Let’s do that. And let’s drop the shit conversation. It’s making me throw up."

"Good idea."

As they moved through the forest, Drakon continued his lessons. He showed Lucian how to identify animal trails, explained which plants attracted different prey, and demonstrated how to move silently through the underbrush.

"The key is to be patient," he emphasized. "Rush in, and you'll scare everything away. Move slow, stay low, and always be aware of the wind direction. You don't want your scent giving you away."

"Ok, I’m not getting all of this. You’re going too fast."

"Don’t worry. I’m going to show you how to do it."

After a while, Lucian spotted movement in the distance. "Look," he whispered, "I think it's a deer!"

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He was about to pursue the creature, but Drakon's firm hand pressed against his chest, stopping him. "We're not after deer today, boy."

"What? Why not? Wouldn't that feed us for days?"

"Yes, it would. But deer are tough bastards. Their hide's thick, and they're fast. You'd need a group of hunters with proper hunting spears to bring one down reliably."

"So what are we after then?"

"Boar. They're smaller, easier to kill with what we've got. Plus, a deer would be too much meat for just the two of us. No sense in wasting a good game."

"Ok, then where can we find a boar?"

Drakon waved his hand. "Follow me."

They pressed on, Lucian trying his best to mimic Drakon's silent movements. His eyes scanned the forest floor as he crouched down, fingers brushing against the damp soil and sifting through fallen leaves and broken twigs. A dark, pungent pile caught his attention—boar droppings. Nearby, uprooted plants and half-eaten tubers hinted at recent foraging. Standing up, he traced the subtle disturbances in the underbrush, pointing toward the trail where the animal had ventured.

After what felt like hours, the old man suddenly froze, holding up a hand to signal Lucian to stop.

"There," he breathed, pointing to a thicket about twenty paces ahead. "See it?"

Lucian squinted, barely making out the dark shape of a boar rooting through the bushes. The creature is covered in short, coarse brown fur with streaks of black. Its small eyes are barely visible beneath the heavy ridges of its forehead. Long, sharp tusks protrude from its mouth, and its snout twitches as it sniffs and roots through the undergrowth for food. It stands on four thick legs and its broad shoulders seem to ripple with muscle.

"What do we do?" he whispered.

"We approach slowly," Drakon instructed. "When we're close enough, I'll give the signal. We both throw at once. Aim for just behind the shoulder."

"Ok. I think I got it."

Lucian followed Drakon's lead. They crept forward, each step carefully placed to avoid snapping twigs or rustling leaves. But just as they were about to throw, a gust of wind carried their scent to the boar. It bolted, disappearing into the forest before they could react.

"Damn," Drakon muttered. "That's how it goes sometimes. Come on, we'll try again."

Their next three attempts met with similar failure. Once, Lucian stepped on a dry branch, alerting their prey. Another time, they missed their throws, the spears embedding harmlessly in the ground as the boar fled.

By their fifth attempt, frustration was setting in. Lucian's muscles ached from the constant tension, and his stomach growled with hunger. But Drakon's patience seemed endless.

"One more try," he said. "Remember what I taught you."

This time, luck was on their side. They spotted a lone boar, oblivious to their presence as it fed on fallen fruits. Moving with painstaking slowness, they closed the distance.

Drakon raised his hand, then dropped it sharply. They threw as one, their spears whistling through the air. Lucian's went wide, but Drakon's found its mark, piercing the boar's side. The animal squealed and tried to run, but Drakon was on it in an instant, finishing it off with a quick thrust.

As the forest fell silent again, the old warrior turned to Lucian with a grim smile. "And that, boy, is how it's done. Now the real work begins. Time you learned how to skin a kill. Carry the boar to our camp."

Lucian nodded and wrenched the bloodied spear from the animal's lifeless body, slinging it over his shoulder. They trudged through the forest, leaves crunching underfoot on their way back to camp.

As they reached the clearing, Lucian dropped the carcass to the ground. "Damn, that was heavy."

"Right," Drakon said. "Time you learned how to properly skin an animal."

"Where do we start?"

Drakon pulled out a sharp knife from his pack. "First, we need to bleed it out. Watch closely."

Slowly, he made a small incision near the boar's neck, allowing the remaining blood to drain. He then positioned the animal on its back, spreading its legs.

"Now, we make a cut from the neck to the tail," he explained, demonstrating as he spoke. "Be careful not to puncture the organs. That'll spoil the meat."

Lucian watched as Drakon's knife separated skin from flesh. The pungent smell of the animal's innards filled the air, making his nose wrinkle.

"Your turn," Drakon said, handing him the knife. "Start at the legs, work your way down."

Lucian took the knife, his hand trembling slightly. He began to cut, trying to mimic his teacher’s technique.

"Careful," Drakon warned as Lucian's knife slipped. "You want to separate the skin, not hack at the meat."

After a few fumbling attempts, he started to get the hang of it. The skin peeled away more easily than he expected, revealing the pink flesh beneath.

"Not bad," Drakon grunted, taking the knife back to finish the job. His hands moved quickly, removing the remaining skin in smooth motions. "Once the skin's off, we need to remove the organs. Some, like the liver and heart, we can eat. Others we'll discard."

With the skinning complete, the old man stepped back, surveying their work. "Now comes the messy part. Ready to help me cut it up?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Drakon gathered some herbs from their supplies and selected choice cuts of meat.

"Pay attention," he said. "Knowing how to cook what you hunt is just as important as the hunt itself."

"I know how to cook."

"Not when you’re out here."

"Is there any difference?"

"A big one."

He sighed. "Ok, fine. Continue."

Drakon showed Lucian how to skewer the meat on green branches saying, "These won't burn as quickly over the fire. You want to cook pork thoroughly. Undercook it, and you'll be shitting yourself silly for days."

"How do we know when it's done?"

"The meat should be firm, no pink in the middle," Drakon replied, demonstrating how to position the skewers over the fire for even cooking.

While the meat cooked, he taught Lucian how to prepare a simple stew with some of the organ meat and wild vegetables they'd gathered. The aroma of roasting pork and simmering stew soon filled the camp.

"Cooking isn't just about filling your belly," Drakon said as he stirred the pot. "It's about making the most of what you have. Out here, that can mean the difference between life and death."

Finally, the meal was ready. He handed Lucian a portion of the roasted meat and a bowl of stew. They sat in comfortable silence, savoring the fruits of their labor.

Lucian took a bite of the pork, his eyes widening in surprise. "This is actually pretty good," he mumbled around a mouthful.

Drakon chuckled. "Amazing what a little hunger can do for the appetite, eh?"

"I never knew that pork could taste like this," Lucian took another bite, the juices running down his chin. "I always cook our meat with a pot."

"How you cook your food makes all the difference in the flavor."

"You can say that again."

They continued eating in companionable silence until Drakon set aside his empty bowl with a satisfied grunt. Wiping his hands on his tunic, he leaned back against a gnarled tree.

"You did well today," he said. "These are skills that'll serve you well on our journey."

"Thank you for teaching me."

"Oh, this is just the beginning. You need to constantly practice these skills in order to be good at it."

Lucian winked as he continued eating his meal. "Don’t worry. I’m a fast learner."

"That’s good to know."

"Did you do this all the time?" Lucian rotated his meat and took another bite.

"I did," he took a deep breath while staring at the fire. "I was away all the time, weeks on end. We always get by with what we have."

"You mean my father?"

"Yes. He was my constant companion in scouting missions."

There was silence for a moment. Lucian pictured the image of his father as a young warrior partaking in such simple rituals bringing a new depth to the stories he'd heard all his life. He could almost envision him sitting where he now sat, sharing stories to Drakon.

"What’s he like? My father?"

"You never get to spend time with him?"

Lucian shook his head.

"He was a hard man, but fair. He was one of the few who tolerated me even after my... excesses. He believed in strength, in honor, and in Sparta, above all else."

"Did he ever…you know."

"Talk about his family?"

"Yeah," Lucian nodded.

"Your father didn't speak much about you guys. I don’t really know why."

"But you knew he had a family for a slave?"

"Yes, we all knew. Others called him out for it. I didn’t."

"Why?"

"It’s his business. I don’t give a rat's ass who he fell in love with, so long as he respected me, I respected him back."

"Maybe that’s the reason why he hangs out with you and not the others. It’s because you two tolerated each other."

"Could be, or we just mesh together."

"That too."

They finished their meal as the sun began to set. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, Lucian felt the need to sleep.