10 Years, Improvised Camp. Fessing up.

I wake up, a sun ray is tickling my face. As I open my eyes, I see it had snowed again, as everything is covered in a fresh, safe for a few boot prints untouched layer of white. A small wooden bowl covered with another, larger bowl stands next to me. I remove the top bowl, and see a portion of the stew Maaten cooked yesterday. Realising how hungry I am, I sit up, and put the bowl onto my lap. A wooden spoon is lodged into the partially-frozen soup, whoever put it here did not fully think this through.

I use a bit of my coefficient to heat up the stew, making it melt after only seconds, and finally emitting soft vapour into the cold winter air. I see that my arms have blistered, like Maaten had said. The blisters are filled with a clear fluid, not unlike those that I developed from my frostburn on hands and feet. They look less nasty however, and cover my skin only sparsely. Praise be the cream Maaten applied.

I blow off the steam from a spoonful of soup, and begin to eat. It tastes a bit mushy, but not bad. It reminds me of the stews I used to have at home.

The rest of the camp seems either gone, or still asleep. I see three bedrolls moving slightly up and down, two are empty. That makes five, so one more is probably set up out of my vision, whether occupied or empty, I cannot tell. Just as I am about halfway through my bowl, the figure of a sleepy Olivia emerges from one of the bedrolls. I hear a cry from one of the nearby trees, and the bird comes flying down, and lands on Olivias shoulder. She greets it quickly, before noticing me watching.

Her eyes meet mine, it is clear that she had not much sleep yesterday. Dark circles underline her grey eyes, and single strains of her light brown hair have broken out of her ponytail, and dangle in front of her face. She takes a bit of snow, and rubs her face with it. This seems to invigorate her, and shortly after, she walks up to the bed I am sitting on.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" She asks this without reservation or spite for my outburst in tears the day before. I nod. "Good!" She sighs, and then sits down next to me. She is not looking at me, but rather aligning her view parallelly to mine, gazing over the rest of the camp. “When Popey, Maaten and Timo return from the Scout trip, we will have to make a decision. You know what I am talking about, don't you?”

I nod reluctantly.

“Then you also know why I, why we as a band, need to send you back. Back to the village.” She stops talking for a moment, before continuing in a soft voice. “You are the boy who ran away from Cottan, right?”

So the mayor did tell them about it. “I know. I know why you want me to go. But still... I can not return there. They would kill me.”

Olivia raises her eyebrow. “Do you really believe that? I do not think so. Sure, the people in the village seemed upset, but you paint it darker than it is. You are a child, after all. They will forgive you, for whatever happened. I am certain of it.”

The mayor apparently did not tell her details, only that I was gone. I will give her the details. She will change her mind then. I am tired of keeping to myself anyway. I will tell her all, and if she thinks bad of me for it, I will just run away. I should be able to in my condition. In fact, I will do the same if she continues being iron on sending me back to the village.

“I ran away. Due to my fault, someone close to me got injured, and instead of helping, I ran away.” The regret I am feeling over that naturally mixes into my voice. Olivia sighs, as if expecting something like this. She lays her hand on my head, and strokes my hair.

“I see. This must have laid heavy on your heart. Even then, I am sure the people will understand...”

I sharply look into her face, instantly stopping her in the word. My eyes start tearing up. She signed up for the story, she is getting it in full. “When I ran away, they sent a searching party after me. Around a dozen members…” My voice sounds miserable and pathetic. Not letting her eyes wander off, capturing them with those water-shod of mine, I press out word after word. “Can you imagine what a shouting, torch-bearing group may attract in a nocturnal forest?”

Shock of realization. Those three words are the essence of Olivia’s whole expression, Shock and nothing more. “No…”

“They got slaughtered! Nine of them!” I manically start crying, sobbing and shouting, not even thinking what to say, just letting these pent-up confessions flow like a river. Olivia withdraws an inch, and has taken back her hand as well.

“Do you know why I know there were nine? DO YOU KNOW?” Hysteria has me in its iron grip. “I know that because I FUCKING COUNTED THEIR SEVERED HEADS! I FUCKING COUNTED THEIR SEVERED HEADS as I DUG A PIT with my BLOODY FINGERS to give them the honour of NOT ROTTING OUT IN THE OPEN!”

Like a dam that broke, everything floods out. Olivia looks terrified. She? Terrified? Of What?

It hits me like a bolt. She is terrified of me.

“Under them was Father. Father, oh Father...” It takes me longer and longer to get further sentences out, too worked up are my thoughts, it would be a miracle if anything I say was still coherent. Finally, I set out for a last sentence. “This is why I ran away. I ran away to FUCKING END THIS MISERABLE CREATURE.”

I am done. Spent. I cry, cry and cry. Minute after minute, eventually hour after hour. Time lost its meaning. Yet, after only a few minutes, I feel someone hugging me from the side, and caressing my head. Words are whispered into my ear, but words for which meaning I no longer care. Finally, I get embraced by a second entity, a deep, gentle slumber.

I wake up. My head hurts and I feel sick, but I am leaning against a warm chest, giving me hold like a solid rock in the surf. Something tickles my ears, reminding me of the time I fell asleep on the dead owlbear’s back. I look up, and see a bird of prey lodging its talons into a leather falconer’s shoulder guard. The shoulder itself belongs to Olivia, who, noticing me starting to move, smiles at me. It is a warm smile, making me reminiscent of older, better times.

It is a smile that reminds me of mother. A smile that, with her progressively worsening leg condition, I got to see rarer and rarer, and that seemed to disappear forever after the incident.

Yet, in all its goodness, the smile Olivia is bearing, unlike that of mother, also hints of something deeper below, a state of uneasiness, a state of being torn between a decision, the proper, safe decision and the decision that feels right. Just the moment as I study this smile, this fight seems won by one side, although it is unbeknownst to me which decision won, at the end.

After a bit of silence, Olivia starts talking. “Do you want to come with us? In all honesty, having you come with us on this hunt will hinder us, but I recognised your will to fight, and believe you have a right to see this beast, this beast which has brought you and so many other people nothing but pain, to death. Therefore, I ask you again: Do you want to come with us?”

This is all I wanted to hear. Without hesitation, I answer. “I want to, yes.” I take a breath, relieved. Even though I said I would run would they force me back to the village, I did not want to. I like it here. Everyone is nice, and the food is good. I feel like every single person here could teach me as much as I learned on my own so far, only in new topics, different from magic.

“Alright.” Olivia gets up, I notice that Simon and the other woman, Shina, were watching us all the time. “Get back and rest. I will discuss everything necessary; you can try to collect all you know about this owlbear. To be honest, we do not know much about it ourselves. Anything you can tell us could potentially help.”

As requested, I lay back down, and slip under the blanket. With this burden taken from my chest, I can forget what happened, and focus on what is coming. I do not have to try long to fall asleep, since even though I just now woke up from a long slumber, the toll that the healing of my wounds takes on my body is noticeable.

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Someone wakes me up by gently shaking me. I half-open my eyes, and see Maaten. He is wearing his backpack, which until now I have only seen lying next to my bed. As a matter of fact, the camp of the Nosediving Merlin had ceased to exist, had been disassembled into lots of backpacks and slingpacks, the majority of which are now resting on Timo’s back. Without breaking into sweat, this colossus of a man shoulders half the cargo on his own.

“Don’t panic, Reiland. We are departing. Come here, get into your clothes, and wrap yourself into the blanket, Timo will carry you as well.” Carefully guiding my half-asleep movement while speaking to me in a tranquilizing manner, Maaten helps me up, hands me piece after piece of my clothing which I dazedly put on causing irritations where it slides over blisters, envelops me in the blanket, and then nods to Timo, who lowers his back to allow me to cling onto the already stacking backpacks. I notice how they strap me tight with a few ropes, and not long after, the band leaves this spot behind, tracking through the forest in a caravan line. Due to the slow and steady swaying of Timo’s walk, I gradually sink back into sleep.

When I wake up, the group is still walking. I feel better rested, but I can only make a vague guess how long I was sleeping in the end. It was dark when we departed and it is dark now, this is all I know. My legs are still asleep. I feel a bit hot, which I attribute to my heating, not a possible fever. My feet, although still hurting, are screaming for some change, something that is not laying around or being carried, as I had been continually doing that in the last three days.

“I can walk.” I quietly say that, and Maaten, walking right next to Timo, hears it.

“Not with those feet, not without shoes. If you do that now, even I won’t be able to keep your soles from freezing off.” That was a quick, and solid rebuttal. I pout, even though I know he does not know better. He does not know I can very well keep them properly warm on my own.

Olivia, upon noticing that I woke up, falls back from the front position. They tied me down around my waist, still allowing for moderate movement of myself, so I can pretty much see the whole group. “Slept well and sound?”

I nod.

“Have you thought about what I asked you? Can you tell me something about the owlbear? Anything could help, really. We know very little right now, only what the mayor told us, what became common knowledge from rumours and legends, and what we have seen on the way. The destruction, I mean.”

I realise our journey so far was all along the path of destruction that the owlbear caused on the first pursuit. Following this path, we will eventually reach the ravine, the place where it all ended. Until then, I will have to familiarize them with the thought that their prey is already dead.

Well, I will tell her what I know, without holding back “The owlbear is big as a boulder, and as heavy too. With a single dash, it is capable of uprooting even large trees, and nothing can offer protection. When it runs, it is twice as fast as any human”

“Well, that much we can see. Not anything can devastate a patch of land like we see it here.” Olivia nods, her gaze roaming through the surroundings. This kind of destruction somehow turned into normality for me over the span of my struggle against the owlbear, but thinking about it, it is really remarkable. I doubt even a rolling boulder would have equally destructive effects.

“It has the body of a bear, but the beak and the eyes of an owl, and its front paws are like the claws of a bird of prey. Its feathers are soft and warm, but it itself is cold. Its blood is yellow. Its claws are of an amber colour, long as a forearm, and sharp as a sword.”

Olivia nods, with an earnest face. Still, her gaze wanders off to something hanging next to me, my bundle of war trophies, perhaps unconsciously. In any case, it always rapidly snaps back to me.

“It is as cold as the surroundings, and it does not breathe. It has no pulse, either. Every prey it catches it mutilates, tears completely into shreds, but it leaves the head perfectly intact. It does not eat anything it hunts. It hunts down everything it sees, be it as small as a mouse or as large as a deer.”

An unrecognisable expression starts taking over Olivia’s face. “That is somewhat incredible, don’t you think… Legends tend to exaggerate, don’t they?”

I slowly shake my head, and continue. “It is smart as a human, and has feelings as one. But, instead of consciousness, it has only infinite rage, rage that brings it to pursuit its sworn enemy even if a knife is sticking in its throat, even if it is missing an eye, even if its legs are smashed to pulp.”

“You sure sound like you have seen it with your own eyes.” Olivia seems somewhat uneasy, but overplays it well.

“I have seen it. With these eyes.” While saying that, I point at them, dead serious.

Olivia remains silent, but under her skin, I can see thoughts racing about, trying to fit things into sense.

I nod to her silence. Then, after she remains quiet a bit longer, I jokingly remark: “You are mighty lucky that you came across such an owlbear expert like myself, are you not?” I need to spill the beans, and soon. But not just yet.

Olivia looks at me, and finally asks, dead serious: “Say, you expert… Do you think we have a chance? Winning against such a beast?”

I shake my head. “Can you run faster than the wind? Can you lop off a bear’s head in one strike while it charges at you?”

Olivia kicks a stone in front of her, it flies off to the side, and impacts somewhere with a thump. She then mutters, as if not for my ears: “Even then, we need to go.” I intrude into that monologue, following up with a quick “Why?”.

“Hmm?” Olivia seems surprised. “You ask why? Shouldn’t you, of all people, know the best why? Or was that grief, that hatred you showed earlier, nothing but a facade?” Olivia states this as if it was obvious.

“No, my longing to see it dead was the real thing. But what is your reason? Nobody you know was harmed yet. Why do you not let this problem be someone else’s? I do not think anybody would blame you.” Or could it be that they want to kill the owlbear to prove their own ability? Is it a matter of proving strength?

“You speak like someone who could make it far in life, given proper time. But in this case, we are not alike: It is my problem because it is someone else’s problem. What good is being strong as we are, if not to use that to protect the weak, even if it risks our own life?”

I see, I get it now. They are those kind of people. “Noble.” This word is being said without positive or negative notion, only as a matter of fact. But Olivia seems to have understood it in the wrong way.

“There are not enough noble people in this world. If there were more, maybe we could hope to see a better future.” She is not angry, but at least a bit irritated.

“I had a friend that was just like you. Noble, I mean.” Had? That is right. Brian and I, we will not see each other again. Neither will I see Mother, or Ione again. As I said, that possibility was wiped out when I ran from the village. Even if I returned to the village, even if nobody would lynch me there, I can not get around the feeling that in the end, all the persons once close to me came to hate me. Mother, for loosing father, Brian, for messing him up, Ione, for hurting her precious brother.

While I think such thoughts, Olivia remains quiet for a while, pondering on her own, but finally, she asks: “What happened to him?”

“He overestimated himself, and ended up paying a heavy toll on his body. His intentions were only the best, I certify for that.”

Why did I go after the owlbear? The answer is clear, to protect everyone dear to me. Also, to avenge father, and seek retribution for the pain inflicted. Still, why is all of that important? I will never see anyone of them again, no matter what I do. Would it then not have been rational to just go the simplest way, to just run away from everything? Not to hunt down this beast, but to rather flee into a totally different part of the world, and free myself of everything remaining?

Yet, it would have felt wrong. In this case, acting rationally would have felt wrong. Weird…

Maybe this is the essence of what it means to be noble. Acting on what feels right, even if it is not rational at all.

Maybe, acting noble is in fact a good thing.

Finally, we come close to the ravine, and I start recognising the territory. Sensing that we come closer to our target, Maaten unties me from Timo’s back. Having Simon carry me, we two are supposed to immediately retreat when spotting the owlbear. He loudly remarks how I am light, and therefore does not grumble too much about having to carry me. Mentally, I prepare for what is coming.

The ravine is appearing at the edge of our vision. Olivia’s bird does not seem to have spotted anything, so they are not particularly on guard.

I slip off Simons back in a single motion. Since I was awake, they did not bother to tie me, there is no risk of me falling.

“Hey! What is it?!” Simon shouts out loud, but unfazed of that, I quickly walk barefoot to the ravine, passing through the group. Maaten tries to get a hold of me, but I take a step back, and shake my head. He reluctantly gives up on picking me up again.

Swarming behind me, asking questions in unison, the band follows me as I almost run to the edge of the ravine. My feet hurt, but it is alright, thanks to the heating I pour into them, alongside with the co-ensuing magic euphoria.

I follow the edge in a certain direction, ignoring the increasingly loud shouts of the group. In the time it took to reach the ravine, dawn had arrived, so there was some level of visibility all around.

Finally, I reach the spot where two fell in, but one climbed out victorious.

I turn around, and see six people running behind me, With Popey, Olivia and Shina being at the front, Timo and Maaten following up close, and Simon being left behind quite some distance.

I look down. One after another, they reach me, bursting with questions, but when looking downwards alongside me, they immediately turn silent. Finally, a good half minute after everyone else, Simon reaches us, panting and coughing heavily.

“Seriously! Don’t run like that, please give me some time to catch up, for god’s sake. What’s this commotion about?” He looks down as we all do, and mutters: “Oh.”

Down there, a dead body of a gigantic bear with an owl’s head is taking its time decomposing.