Light tunneled through the thick foliage, turning the forest a murky orange rather than its previous golden shine. Seeing this, I cursed soundlessly.

God, dammit.

Another day with nothing to show for it? I’ve gone further than ever before! Why the hell is there nothing here? I’m near the border of that troll territory and there’s still nothing.

At least there are rabbits, but that doesn’t count. Why are there so many rabbits, anyway?

While walking through the murky forest, I scanned for any signs of movements, lost in thought, keeping my profile low to the ground. The green bushes filled with thorns tugging relentlessly at my legs. Periodically having to step over massive roots thicker than my legs, supporting the massive weight of the enormous trees.

Sensing that the immediate vicinity was safe, I looked up, estimating the sun's position, positioning my body accordingly and began walking. Thoughts running free.

Maybe the troll has eaten everything? Or maybe the bear has? No, no, that sounds stupid, or does it? I would be surprising if the troll had killed everything, but not the bear, that thing is ruthless and evil. It wouldn’t be out of the question if that bear was the cause of everything being dead. But that begs the question, would it kill things this close too troll territory? Aren’t they enemies?

My thoughts were brought to a halt as I stubbed my toe on a big root, falling forwards on all four. But I kept silent, whipping my head upwards while the pain sought its way into my brain. I waited a second, letting the sound wave reverberate outwards, waiting for anything. Hearing nothing.

Then cursed soundlessly in pain, taking a firm grasp around my painful toe.

Forest, you're a cruel mistress you, but I would take you beating any day over civilization. Although you’re a dangerous mistress, danger around every corner, every root. Death by root, pff haha, that would be a funny death, wouldn’t it? A lot more funny than being mauled to death by that bear. That would be more ironic than funny, still funny tho.

I got up on my feet and brushed of some loose dirt, reorientating and continued walking. The forest was oddly peaceful today, even after considering how far away I was from the village. The greenery felt like a blanket of safety, the thorny bushes a wall of protection, the thick roots traps for my enemies, and me.

These thoughts ran through my brain. But I lightly shook them away, reminding myself that I’m still miles away from fremstuvíglínu and still within Hlutur territory. Doesn’t matter that I feel safe, if anything, feeling safe is the first step towards death. Never underestimate the forest.

I glanced up again, noting that the light had dimmed even further. Thoughts of walking through the forest at night didn’t please me. Time to set up camp.

While walking, I scanned each tree, estimating its protective value, and if they were climbable. Eventually, I spotted a big tree and made my way to it. Each step purposeful, seeking compact ground while stepping around or over dead branches and dry leaves. Something that's always come naturally to me, but with years and years of training, has turned me into a ghost of the woods.

Staring up at the tree, I absentmindedly unhooked my bow from the straps on my left arm, tugging and pressing out gears. A satisfying “click” emanated from the contraption holding my bow to my arm, relieving my left shoulder of the big weight. I breathed a sigh of relief, then threw the bow around my right shoulder while shifting it into a comfortable position on my back. With that done, I grabbed the holster holding my arrows and unbuckled it, also swinging it around my shoulder, resting it beside my bow. The whole process taking seconds, practised and precise movements making it easy.

After giving the tree a measured look, I took a step back while letting my arms fall down. Then quickly, using the momentum I gained, leaping as high as I could, aiming for a thick branch about one meter above the ground. Grabbing a hold of it with my right hand, I put my prosthetic left arm in between the tree and the branch, nudging it in tightly, then letting a bit of my weight pull on it, making sure that it could hold my entire weight. Then I let go and swiftly started swinging again, using my left arm as a pivot, grabbing a hold of the next nearest branch with my right hand, then dragging myself up. Repeating the procedure with my left prosthetic.

Eventually, I made my way sufficiently high up, feeling confident that a wandering predator would be unlikely to reach me this far up. Although I doubt it would stop a Hlutur. Maybe it wouldn’t notice me, but no matter what others say, that monsters weakness is probably not a tree.

I mean, it’s a bear.

I sat down on the big branch, pulling off the bow and holster from my back, putting them on my lap and leaning back on the thick tree. With a quick glance down and doing a quick estimation, I guessed that I could probably jump down if the need arises. The fall wouldn’t be pleasant, but it would be survivable. A few broken bones hadn’t killed nobody. Except for those it has. It would look funny if you died like that.

Anyway, if I find nothing tomorrow, I’ll call this journey a failure and head back. If I’m lucky, they’ll give me a good price for the rabbit pelts. But I doubt it, those blood suckers won't give me a good price even if I tried to sell them a rune blade. They would call it defective and try to get it for free.

While thought wandered, the comforting sounds of the forest washed over me, lulling me into deeper thoughts, deeper away from my surroundings. Breeze coming in low and gentle, caressing the top of the trees in a quiet lullaby. The chirping of birds nestled in the trees joining in, singing their songs. The crunching of branches from the small critters below and the drums of the forest bringing with it an orchestra of sounds.

This place, this forest, it’s always been more like home than my real home. If such a thing as “home” even exists. The old man used to say that home is where life takes you.

And, I guess, I agree.

Thoughts drifting away, the slow crawl of sleep taking its place. Sounds slowly ebbing away into nothingness, dreams waddling forwards. Giving me pictures of days long gone, memories once forgotten brought too light. I saw a familiar face, one ridden with a permanent frown and a big, stupid head. Skull shaven down to the eyebrows, yet he still sported a big stupid beard. He looked at me, giving me that look when he’s about to tell me something “wise”. Somehow, always ending with a scolding.

But before he spoke, his expression softened, a gentle smile forming. Then the old man started fading away, the dark background consuming him, taking him away from me. I started running, but my feet felt heavy, clogging through invisible mud, dragged back by invisible chains. My hands reached forward, but were infinitely small, forever reaching, never grasping. My voice screamed, searching for a sound, merely gasping for air, a roar of silence.

A loud crunch woke me up, a single tear running down my face. I jumped to my knees, right arm resting on both the bow and holster, staring down into the dark forest below.

Shit, what was that?

I thought, then focused completely, trying to hear the sound, but not hearing anything. Although years of honed instincts, told me that something big, bigger than a rabbit, had just disturbed the quiet forest. Scanning the forest-floor, I looked for any sign of the big animal, maybe predator, maybe monster. One leg dangling slightly over the edge, ready to jump off if the need arises.

My ears perked up as a new crunch emanated out from the forest floor. Sounding very close to where I was, being somewhere behind the big tree. I slowly, very slowly, inched my way around it, holding on as I tried to spot the source. Barely able to see in the darkness of the night,

As I slowly rounded the tree, I lay my eyes on something truly strange. Two figures, one big, presumably an adult, and the other small, presumably a kid. the two holding each other's hand. both looking like humans from my perspective.

I glanced at my bow and cursed. I wouldn’t be able to put it on without making a ruckus. In a split second, I made the choice to wait and see, readying myself to jump at a moment's notice. Then focused back on the two.

Seeing two humans holding hand wasn’t strange, even if I can’t say that I’ve seen many do it. But what made it strange was the fact that they were this far out in the woods, looking like parent and child. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy, the hand around my bow tightening. From the stories told about Hlutur, I wouldn’t be surprised if these were merely disguised.

Staring at the two, I saw them make their way forward, slowly creeping towards my tree. Making me sweat like a flowing river, drenching my back in moisture. I inched backwards on the branch, readying myself to jump. And a thought crossed my mind.

So this is how I die?

But I shook the thought quickly, staying quiet and still, deciding to hold my breath, my eyes narrowing on them.

I could see that the big humanoid had tilted his head, one ear pointing up with the face angled slightly down, his steps easy and soundless. The small humanoid wasn’t as good, taking careless steps, each seemingly seeking dry branches, sounding like a hammer hitting an anvil in the quiet forest. I’ll take a wild guess and assume that’s the one who woke me up.

As they neared my tree, the big humanoid suddenly stopped as he bumped into the tree. And to my surprise, finally noticing him holding a cane, the cane like an elongated arm, bumping into the tree I was sitting on. I almost breathed out, my body going tight as a spring.

The big humanoid moved the cane away from the tree, letting it drop to the ground, removing the hand from the child and placing it on the tree, head remaining tilted to the side.

Seconds passed, the two growing more visible as my eyes adjusted further to the dark. Although there was little to see. The big one had a head filled with brownish hair, sporting a beard, clothes too dark to make out. properly, looking like a torn coat.

Minutes passed with nothing happening. Feeling the pain reaching a climax, breathing out slowly as I surrendered, making sure to not make a noise in the process. Scared by the peculiar actions of the big humanoid. But as I did, the peculiar man twitched, a gesture so small, almost miniscule, that few would ever, or could ever, notice it. But I did, and it made me freeze solid, accidentally taking a quiet, but sharp intake of air, a few dripplets of sweat forming around my neck, around my back and around my ass crack.

Once again, minutes passed, still nothing from the peculiar man. Just remaining still, his hand resting on the tree. The first to move was actually the little humanoid, tugging lightly at the peculiar mans clothes as he whispered, sounding like a scream in the quiet night.

“What are you doing?”

A child's voice, but with a tinge of sadness and annoyance in it, something that made me unconsciously loosen my tightening limbs, relaxing them as I waited for the peculiar mans response. But no answer came; He remained silent. Although he removed his hand from the tree and grabbed a hold of the child's hand. But he missed, the child being the one to grab on. The man reached with his other hand, the one holding the cane, and gently patted the child's head. The child did not look pleased, taking a step back while gently pushing the hand away. Then the two of them walked away, in silence.

Wait, that’s not a cane. Looks more like, like a sword? Letting my eyes focus down on it, I felt my vision being pulled towards it. As if the sword was speaking to me, as if it knew me, as if it wanted to be seen. By me?

It was taller than the holder’s upper body, but no wider than a wrist.

The blade was sheathed in a rusted metal scabbard. The top part contained a black, rounded sphere, carvings etched into it, unreadable from all the rust.

The guard was plain and flat, made entirely of iron, rusted like everything else, nothing distinguishing it from any other guard.

The hilt was wrapped in a white cloth, the only part that seemed reasonably well kept, with dots of blue sprinkled on it.

The pommel was oval in shape, rusted like everything on the blade, but holding an emblem. Something small, round and sparkling in the darkness.

Even from where I was, there seemed to be something contained within the pommel. A small marble, coloured in green and blue. Mostly blue, with dots of white spread around.

A very peculiar sword, and would probably be worth a lot back in its prime. But I mean, the way he’s handling it probably means he knows it as well. I doubt that the actual blade is any better than that rusted scabbard. Probably not worth stealing.

Wait, why did I even care about the sword? Stop! Focus on the pair.

Tearing my focus away from the sword, I looked at the two of them, seeing them slowly lumber away, further into the dark forest. My posture relaxed but remained still. They were far away, but not entirely gone. Thoughts growing calculative, thinking about the two.

From their interactions, the way they moved and their gestures, I’m assuming they’re human. I doubt a Hlutur could wield such breath of emotions. Although the peculiar man seems very, aware. I think he noticed me; I assume he noticed me, but not telling the child probably means that he’s not looking for a fight. But one question stands out, one that really bothers me.

How the fuck have they survived this far up north? If they walked from the way they came, I’m guessing they’ve been moving from even further north, presumably within troll territory. And they’re still alive? How?

With renewed interest, I stared at their slowly shrinking backs. Noticing, even in the dark night, that the child wore something that looked like a brown blanket around his body. Covering himself up to his mouth, his hand the only thing sticking out, holding the peculiar mans hand. The blanket reached down to below his knees and wrapped around him multiple times, looking torn but weirdly, spotless.

The peculiar man wore a brown cloak, matching the child’s in colour, reaching down to the peculiar man’s stomach. Looking torn in a zig-zag manner, and was also, weirdly clean. Under that I could see him wearing a grey undershirt. But if it was originally grey or white, I could not say. He also wore some loose pants, though they looked very dirty and ragged.

While my eyes scanned the two figures, my body grew stiff as a board when the man turned around for a second, tilting his head slightly. My eyes wandered down to stop on the chest of his cloak, seeing half of an emblem painted on it, eyes widening in surprise. I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. But after blinking and realising that I was really seeing the top half of a silvery sword, dripping with blue blood engrossed by a deep red and purple circle. I almost exclaimed loudly.

What the hell? Why is a priest of Heimurfólk doing here? And why’s that symbol wrong? Is he some sort of warrior- No, no they wear the same outfit, the old man taught me that. Then, why is it so weird? What the hell is he? Why is he here?

This suddenly got extremely interesting. I should investigate, maybe they had something of value after all. No harm has ever come from spying on someone. Unless you were an assassin. Dying from an assassination this far north, when your number one priority was not dying from nature, that would be a funny death.

The two strange individuals continued their slow journey through the forest. The peculiar man walking soundlessly, the child stomping like a pissed moose. The peculiar man used his sword to tap the ground in front of him, giving him a better grasp of the dark forest. The child looked downcast, mouth still covered by the brown blanket, staring down at the ground.

When the pair went past a tree and out of sight, I relaxed completely. I let a few more minutes pass before I felt sufficiently safe to climb down, going slowly to lessen the noise. The peculiar man seemed very alert, but the boys racket should make my descent unnoticeable.

A minute later, I touched the ground with the top of my shoe, slowly easing my way fully down to ground level. When both of my feet were on solid ground, I took a minute to attach my bow, placing my quiver in a better place then, slowly, following the sounds of the boys crunching footsteps. Slowly, making my way to them. Eventually, getting within eyesight of the two.

Sneaking from tree to tree, I stayed as silent as possible while following the pair. Idly pondering if I should just shoot them, but deciding against it. The peculiar man decided to trust me, maybe, so I’ll return the favor. If only for a short while.

After following them for over ten minutes, nothing much happened. The only exception being when the peculiar man would occasionally stop because of bumping into a tree. Otherwise, they moved silently through the forest. No talking, no gesturing, nothing at all. The only sounds being of the kids stomping footsteps.

Following the pair was immeasurably boring, mostly because it was so easy. Even rabbits were harder to hunt than doing this. It’s been several hours, the night growing ever longer, moonlight making its presence known, sparse light flowing past the crowns of the trees, barely reaching the ground. A soundless yawn breached my mental fortitude, my mind growing hazy. Heavy eyes and boredom were not helping. I lazily peeked around a tree to see if they were still there.

Then my brow raised as the pair finally did something different. They had stopped, or rather, the peculiar man had stopped. While standing there, the peculiar man walked in front of the child and motioned for him to sit, which he did, then motioned for him to stay, which the child didn’t react to, merely dragging his blanket further up his face. Then the peculiar man walked off, using the sword to guide the way.

I moved to follow, but didn’t. I couldn’t tell if it was because I were tired, or bored. What I did know was I didn’t want to follow. The peculiar man might do something interesting, but I’d rather sit here and watch the kid in peace.

Thinking that, I let my eyes drag their way to where the child was sitting, one hand resting on the tree. The big blanket covered his body, but the contours of his knees poked visible against it. Both of his knees were resting on his chin. His arms pressed forward on the blanket, holding his legs and exposing his little toes. Which were quickly covered as the boy noticed the chilly night air, pushing the blanket underneath his feet.

I stared at the scene with a sense of boredom, my mind growing even more hazy, and then I felt something. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but it just came out of nowhere. Staring at the child, I felt a serious sense of déjà vu. I sensed, nostalgia. I felt, lonely.

Sitting down with renewed energy, I forgot about the peculiar man, instead fully focused on the little kid. His mouth still covered by the blanket, but his eyes were clearly visible, like spots of light, like stars in the sky, staring out into nothing. I mimicked the kids’ posture, wrapping my arms around my legs as I brought my knees to my chin, resting it on my knees.

And time passed, thoughts going back to old days. Too moments of hunger, of cold and fear. I remembered those days clearly, clear as day. Remembering the drive, the drive to survive. Remembering when I would crouch on the ground, silent and hidden, waiting for my prey to appear.

----------------------------------------

It showed up, a small little brown rabbit, no bigger than a small pouch, not big enough to fill my empty stomach. But it will have to do.

I calmly, and steadily, raised my bow, left hand clutching the bow tightly, with my right hand drawing the string slowly, breathing in calmly as I drew, arrow already nocked. But I was too loud, the rabbit twisting its head, staring at me with wide eyes, then quickly scampering away.

I panicked, shooting without fully drawing the bow, missing the target completely.

God-Fucking-dammit. I thought, jumping off into a sprint, off to chase the rabbit. My first prey after several hours, I wouldn’t let it go this easily.

Through trees and stumps, both of us twisted and turned, running through the forest. I remained persistent and cunning, cutting it off whenever I felt I could. And the rabbit continued to flee its huge predator in freight, using its tiny muscles too practically fly through the forest.

I was singularly focused on the rabbit, barely registering the trees going past. Occasionally, when I felt I had a chance, I would try to shoot, but the speed of the rabbit and my lack of skills made it particularly hard to draw the bow while running.

Then suddenly, in a flash of black and a snap of bone, the rabbit disappeared, snatched away by something.

I stopped dead in my tracks, nocking an arrow on the bow and glancing to where I had seen the shadowy blur disappear into. Narrowing my eyes and focusing. My ears was the first too notice something, barely making out the sounds of... eating?

Slowly, I walked towards the sound, one step in front of the other, going as quiet as possible, driven by my rumbling stomach.

Rounding a tree, the source of the eating made itself known. A black rabbit, twice the size of the brown rabbit, ferociously devouring it. I Paused my step mid-air, eyes widening at the scene. The black rabbit seemed focused on its meal, clearly content with the morsel.

I held my breath, the sight momentarily freezing my body, mind going into overdrive, into survival mode. Through a panicked mind, I started backing away, pulling back the foot that was resting mid air. But as the foot connected with the ground, a whisper of a crunch eked out underneath my foot, accidentally stepping on a dead branch.

The rabbit heard it, twisting its neck to look for the source, seeing me. The face of the rabbit didn’t look that unusual, but it’s eyes where a murky grey. And as our eyes met, a wide smile spread on its face, dislocating cheek bones to make it possible, huge canines poking out from the inside of its mouth. Something that looked so alien, so unnatural, so monstrous that I quickly realised what it was. A Hlutur.

It twisted around, still wearing its big smile while its body turned towards me. Its body stretching into an arrow shape, spreading its legs as it readied itself to jump. I let out a gasp of freight, the actual scream getting stuck in my throat. In panic, I let an arrow fly, swishing past the Hlutur and striking the ground beside it. It twitched its head slightly, its smile growing wider. An uneery chuckle emanating from deep within, resonating with my deepest fears. Making my heart beat twice as fast, thoughts blaring in alarm, screaming at me to run. I quickly obeyed, turning around and jumping off into a sprint.

I ran faster than I had ever done, adrenaline mixing with pumping muscles. The forest blurring past me. I ran past a tree, then another, and another. I gave myself a second to look behind, something that made me squeal in freight as the Hlutur was merrily skipping right behind me. Almost looking as if it was having a nice jog. I tried picking up speed, arrows from my holster falling out in a chaotic mess, bow getting trashed by passing branches. I paid it no mind; I just wanted to live. My thoughts turning frantic, hysterical, my scream desiring a sound, but not finding air.

Another look behind, and the rabbit were suddenly gone. But I didn’t stop. I continued running and running. Only stopping once a tree made its presence known to the top of my head, giving it a big bump. I fell back on my ass, raising my hands towards the bump and quickly turning around. Letting my body lean heavily on the tree while I scanned the forest with heavy breaths. To my great relief, the rabbit was nowhere to be see- There it was. Smile spreading wide as it rounded a big tree, standing just a few meters in front of me.

I tried to stand up, but my legs failed me. Forced to sit still as the air seared its way down my lungs, trying to bring back energy to my already weak body. The rabbit stalked closer. I tried willing my legs to move, to force them. But they wouldn’t. The rabbit came closer. I closed my eyes, wishing for the Hlutur to disappear, for this to be just a big nightmare.

I opened one eye, seeing the rabbit brace itself. I pulled up my left arm up, shielding my eyes from reality.

The rabbit jumped, launching itself in speeds that no mere human, nor animal, could ever wish to achieve. With a force equivalent of an arrow, the rabbit impacted my left arm, latching on with its razor-sharp teeth. Making my arm swing round the tree, stopping as my shoulder popped out, merely held up by meat. The pain burned its way to my brain, leaving a scar, stopping all thoughts, engulfing my brain in nothing but pain. I tried to scream, but nothing came. I silently stared at the rabbit, holding onto my broken arm as its teeth sank ever deeper. The pain was immeasurable, as if a red-hot nail was being pushed deeper and deeper. Like my nerves were individually pulsating in pain.

Then an arrow impacted the rabbit in a streak of white, making the rabbit fly away from my arm, taking with it a chunk of meat that hung greedily in its mouth. The arrow dragged the Hlutur a few meters away, impacting the ground with the rabbit following. The Hlutur screamed, blood freezing cold, thought of pain put on the back burner as its scream forced its way into my conscious, driving me mad. It trashed around, trying to remove itself from the arrow that had imbedded it to the ground. But before the rabbit could make any progress, two new arrows emerged, lacking the white streak that the first had, but both hitting the head of the rabbit, quickly shutting it up.

My mind immediately dropped the ear rupturing scream, replacing it with the pain in my gory arm. My body lurched forward, arm dangling helplessly on my left, tears pouring down my face. The fiery pain wouldn’t seize, but my mind still sought to survive, and the arrows could be a potential enemy. I searched for who had killed the Hlutur. The tears blocked my sight, blurring my vision, the pain making it hard to even focus. Then I noticed something coming towards me, getting closer, saying.

“Jeesh, you don’t look too good. Sorry bout that by the way. I had to let the Hlutur bite you to guarantee a hit on it. Otherwise we both might have been dead, so consider yourself lucky, kid. Although, if you would’ve died, it would have been pretty hilarious... Pfff aahahaha!”

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Something ruffled in the bushes, dragging me out of thoughts. The kid remained unmoving, staring into the dark forest. I quickly went on alert, looking around in haste, trying to locate the source of the sound, thoughts turning frantic.

Shit shit, fuck, no why do I always disappear like that, I have to hurry before the kid get’s-

Then I saw the source of the sound, and stopped panicking, letting out a sigh of relief as I saw the peculiar man walking towards the kid, holding a dead rabbit and some dry branches in his left arm. The right holding his sword and more branches. As the momentary panic slowly ebbed away, a thought struck.

How did he catch a rabbit so quickly? Wait, how long was I even reminiscing for? When did I disappear? A momentary blunder, one of many, a stupid habit that won’t leave no matter how much I try.

I sat back down, this time leaning against the tree, letting my bow rest on my legs. Feeling that I should be more prudent, more aware.

Looking at the odd pair, I noted the old man sitting down while throwing branches into a big pile. Then he pulled out a small knife from a pocket on his trousers and proceeded to try to skin the animal. Try is the correct word, as the old man feebly pushed the knife into the rabbit, cutting chunks of skin and flesh out, then proceeded to messily throw it away. If my old man had seen this, he would first give him a verbal thrashing, then second, teach him how too properly skin an animal. The way he was skinning it, it looked as if he was skinning it blind, grabbing and touching like a man going through the dark.

After a few agonising minutes, the peculiar man finally skinned the animal, badly might I add, putting the meager amount of meat in a messy pile to his right. He then proceeded to awkwardly search the ground for the branches, which he then proceeded too, again, messily try to assemble into some workable campfire. After stacking two branches against another, they would promptly fall as he let them go. He repeated the task like a lunatic, the sounds of falling branches titillating my ears, like the sounds of falling water when you’re trying to sleep. Like the ticking sound of a loud clock.

Several excruciating minutes of this passed, even the kid seemed to grow tired, rising from his comfortable sitting position and shuffling up to the peculiar man, pushing him aside with a light push and a barely loud murmur. Then, stacked the wood in an acceptable manner, getting a smile and a nod from the peculiar man, something the boy didn’t react to.

The peculiar man then took out a small, black, rectangular thing from his pants, one side filled with runes of unknown function, the other blank, the whole thing looking to be made of iron. A second later, the man pushed the iron thing close to the fire and focused. The next it went up in flames, licking both the branches and the peculiar mans hand, but the fire didn’t seem to disturb him, his hand firmly holding the burning iron-thing under the branches. It was only when the branches caught fire that the man jerked his hand away, shaking it while blowing on it.

My eyes grew wide as I noticed what it was, an Eldsteinn! This pair gets more interesting by the hour, to think they would have something so valuable. Or, I mean, it’s not earth shattering wealth, maybe not even that weird considering where they are. But a normal household would consider it priceless, while the poor would consider it life-saving.

I can readily say that I was not expecting them to have something so valuable. What a shame, too bad that it’ll disappear by the end of the day.

Although, I should be careful. Something about the peculiar man is quite unnerving. Even though they’re inside Hlutur territory, with only a sword to keep them safe, he’s too relaxed. He’s peculiar to say the least.

Time to wait.

While waiting, nothing special happened. They ate their meager amount of rabbit meat while staring out into the darkness. No talking, no playing, no nothing. I almost lulled myself to sleep, brain only staying focused due to the prize waiting. Although I found mild amusement at seeing their reactions to the rabbit meat. There’s nothing better than seeing disgusted faces, always brings a smile to my face.

Eventually, they ate all the food and sat in silence. Minutes passed before the peculiar man waved at the kid, gaining his attention, then gestured that they should sleep. I raised a brow at that, why not say it? I guess another peculiar thing to add to the already long list of peculiarities. The kid nodded in response and lay down, using his big blanket as both a pillow and blanket. The old man waited a minute before doing it himself, using his arm as a pillow, closing his eyes.

I let even more time pass, eye’s feeling heavy, body needing sleep. I shook the sleep out of my eyes, rubbing at them and focusing. Listening for the tell-tale sound of sleep, of heavy and even breathing. It took a while; The fire petered out before they were fully asleep. And I might have lulled asleep for a bit too. Shaking myself again, I quietly stood up, moving slow but steady, making my way inside their little bubble of safety, inching on my toes to make less noise, keeping my breathing short and even.

After several minutes of creeping, I made it within arm's reach of the peculiar man. I Bent down, stretching my hand towards his pocket, glancing up at his face, then peaking at the kids sleeping body. I listened intently on the slow breathing of the sleeping man, mind and body in total focus, the earlier exhaustion gone with the wind. Then the man rolled over, making me stumble backwards, pulling my arm back in panic to try to remain undetected. And as he came face to face with me, I breathed out in relief as his eyes remained closed, or rather, one of his eyes did. The other had a scar that cut from the top of his face down and through his eye, cleaving it in two parts, then down to his chin. It didn’t look pleasant, nor that appealing, rather rugged and grotesque. It was surprising to say the least.

I also noticed that he looked far older than I first thought, being this close, strands of grey stuck out from his otherwise brown hair and beard. A bead of sweat rolled down my face, I felt lucky. Then, as I looked down to continue my endeavour, I paused in hesitation. The peculiar man’s once empty hand was now holding a sword, slightly pushed out from its scabbard, revealing a disturbingly bloodied sword.

My heart started hammering loudly in my chest, louder than a screaking hawk. I slowly walked backwards, tip-toeing away. Keeping two wide eyes locked on the sword and the hand holding it. Step by step, I crept away. Slowly, no sudden movements. Focus being crystal clear, every detail as bright as the sun, his sword and hand burning an unforgettable image in my mind.

Then I was finally out of their little bubble of safety, out of their little camp. And jogged away. Swiftly switching to sprinting. Running far enough away that it would be impossible to hear me, which was when I finally let myself breathe, taking deep and heavy breaths, cursing loudly.

What the fuck! How the fuck? Did he know? How can someone be that scary? Holy shit, what the fuck was that scar? How had I not noticed that scar before? His entire eye was practically missing. It looked deep enough to have carved out bone. How is he even alive?

Okay, calm down, calm down. I probably missed it because of the dark. Yeah, calm down. And second, he’s absolutely an expert swordsman, or a high-ranking member of the Heimurfólks. Otherwise there's no reasonable explanation for this fucking guy. I mean, why would he be here? Maybe he’s here to train the kid? or maybe he has saved the kid? Aaah, fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck!

My thoughts swam around in my head, going from one reason to another. Not really coming up with anything that could properly explain the situation. The only thing I felt strongly about, the one thing I could say with absolute certainty. Was that I should really really not bother with these people. From the way he moved and the utter perceptiveness. It's beyond human, he’s beyond human. That twitch when I was on the tree was probably no mere fluke either. Yeah, don't bother with these people, just ignore them.

But at that, I felt hesitation, something tugging at my mind. Looking for the source of this tugging, I felt myself drawn to the memory of the kid sitting with his little knees wrapped around the big blanket covering his mouth. I felt… Pity? No, no I don't feel pity. No, I felt as if; I had seen that before. I felt a compulsion, a need to know... Why.

What am I doing here?

Night had turned to day, the few hours of sleep forming crusts around my eyes. The couple had woken up, slowly getting themselves ready to move, me trailing behind them with as much space as possible without losing them. Which made it hard to follow, but as the kid wasn’t very good at hiding his tracks, it was at least possible. Oh yeah, what am I doing here? Good question me, and I have no idea. Maybe I’ll know if I follow them. Great idea me, just follow the reaper of death, maybe you’ll finally know if hell exists. Pfff haha, that would be. Funny.

This whole thing was funny. I was being funny. I would get a good whipping by my old man if he saw me right now. Hehehe, yeah, old man, you would find this funny wouldn’t you?

I wonder if you would find my reason for being here funny too.

Yeah, probably not.

Lost in thought, I tripped on a overgrown root, falling gracefully on my knees. A bang of pain tickled my shin, but I didn’t react, keeping silent and watchful. Head looking up, scanning to see if anything had noticed.

Then the pain was overwhelming, and I had to breathe out through clenched teeth, bringing my arm to the painful location and cursed soundlessly.

Goddamn tree, shit, I really need to stop thinking too much. Especially inside this territory, wouldn’t want that bear to have an easy snack now would I? Although it would be a funny death. A rekjasporeinhvers dying from not being attentive enough, the old man would have a good laugh about that.

And why are we even called rekjasporeinhvers? Like, who thought that would be memorable? Wouldn’t “forest people” be better? Or foresters? Scouts? Maybe naming isn’t my calling.

Oops, stop thinking, got to focus on the two. Let’s see let’s see, tracks tracks.

After thinking, I walked in their general direction, quickly picking up small footsteps and then shortly after, hearing them.

Time drifting, uneventfully.

I’ve followed them for a long time now, and I’ve concluded that they have no idea where they are going. At first they were moving towards Fremstuvíglínu, yet another stupid name. But then they’ve veered off, going in a completely random direction, or at least random for me. And after that they suddenly changed direction again, circling back to where we’ve already been. Making me groan in frustration. There’s nothing worse than an incompetent tracker. I mean, this gives me no sign of why they are here; To me it only looks like they want to die a slow and painful death. Although, if they found that bear, which is likely considering their stupid movements, they would get a swift and very painful death. Which of the two is more funny, I can’t tell.

I’ve also come to the realisation that the peculiar man uses his sword to hunt. Which I must ask. How? And to answer that question, I have no idea. Although, if they are going to be out here any longer than a week, he’ll have to get better at hunting bigger prey. I don’t think they’re getting the proper amount of food to survive for longer than a week. The small rabbits aren’t giving them enough meat, especially after you consider his very, very poor butchering skills.

The sun and moon danced around each other with each passing day, each time looking down on me as if seeing some cosmic joke. Each rotation was just as uneventful as the last. My brain felt mushy and bored, yet firm and present, my will hasn’t been won by my boredom.

Not yet.

A routine started forming. Me following them from a far; The distance growing shorter with each day, eating the meager amount of jerky I had left, a few more days at best. And at night, I would creep up close, staring at them to try to figure out... Something. They would walk by day, then a bit into the night, they would make camp. That duty eventually went to the kid. Seeing the peculiar man fail to make a fire night after night, it wasn’t surprising the kid took the duty, even I was getting impatient. And while the kid would make the fire, the peculiar man would go out hunting.

Sometimes I would follow the peculiar man. Although I would always find myself unable. He was just too goddamn good at hiding his tracks; He was like a ghost in the woods, even better than me, even if I didn’t like to admit it. And the thought of him coming up behind me then slicing my throat with that bloody sword kept me up at night. It would be a funny death tho.

I tried sleeping out of sync from their pattern, thinking that being awake while they slept I might be able to dig up something juicy. But quickly found that to be impossible. Even if they were sauntering during the day, their way of practically getting lost in the woods and running in circles made it hard for me to stay in one place for long. Scrapping that Idea, I just kept following them, hoping they would speak. Also, one thing they never did. Typical .

Which led me to what I do, which is just mostly me following them, then staring at them during the night, then sleeping when they do. And even that just included me staring at the boy, as the peculiar man was out hunting most of the time.

Today was one of those days. I was sitting down with a tree on my back and a hard root under my ass. Eyes glued to the little boy, my déjà vu feeling just as strong as ever, slowly recognising it more and more with each day, remembering my own past. I often thought back as I stared at the boy, and tonight was no different. Thinking back on warmer times, times with a full stomach and an aching body.

----------------------------------------

“Hey old guy, why- Aow what the fuck?” A hard slap to my head left my ears ringing.

“Dont call me old, you stupid twerp” The old man said, glaring at me as he slurped his portion of the rabbit stew.

“I’ll call you whatever I want you old fa- AAAOW!” Another, harder slap met my head. Leaving me scratching it with a vigor.

“Dont tempt fate you little fucker” The old man said, pointing a soup filled spoon towards me. I let my tongue slip out at the proclamation, leaving him with a bigger frown as he unhappily slurped his soup.

Then suddenly, a calculated smile spread on his lips, leaving the spoon hanging between two fingers, pointing it at me.

“If you stop calling me an old man, I’ll show you a thing or two about using that bow of yours” He said, his smile growing wider. A proclamation that made me groan loudly in dismay, already feeling sore from yesterday's exercises.

“Aaaah come on! You’ve already made me draw that bow like, at least a million times by now” The old man only smiled in response, enjoying the seconds of displeasure I showed, slurping the last of his soup loudly, his beard wet by fat and soup. A smile peeking from a top the bowl, as he talked with his mouth full of soup.

“Yeah, and I would force you to draw it ten million times more, if I felt it necessary. Especially considering that you were once almost eaten alive by a rabbit... Pfff hahaha! Oh brings back memories” The old man said, chuckling at his own stupid joke, being the only one who could even understand what the joke was.

When he saw my angry frown, his smile widened even further, letting his arms go wide as he said.

“No, I’m not talking about drawing the string, you dense twerp! I’m talking about really using it” I tilted my head, not understanding the question. Taking a second to respond or even react properly. Then a switch went off in my head, and my eyes twinkled in hope.

“Old man, are you saying, you’ll let me... Shot the bow? With an actuall arrow?” He smiled at my question and put his bowl down, leaning back on his two arms as his already wide smirk grew even wider. Then nodded.

I shot up to my feet, eyes popping out, glowing in giddiness and excitement, smile growing impossible big, walking up mere centimeters from his face, screaming in glee.

“Really!?” The old man’s smile turned from a smirk to a genuine smile, pushing his arms out and grabbing my shoulder, pushing me back slightly and laughing deeply. He then gestured for me to sit down, trying to calm down his own laughter as he motioned for me to remain quiet.

“Ohohhahaha. Oh, calm down, calm down. I said tomorrow, didn’t I, you stupid twerp? And yes, we will. But unless you sit down and be quiet right now, you’ll probably be spotted by a nearby rabbit. It’ll jump at the opportunity to slit a little kid's throat. Hehe... Ha... Hahahaaha!”

----------------------------------------

A ruffle from a nearby bush brought me out of my daydreams, my head whipping around in slight panic. But quickly composing myself, nocking an arrow to my already attached bow. Aiming it slowly and steadily, breathing calmly. Another ruffle, I aimed the bow at a nearby bush, then suddenly, a nose appeared, first slowly, then more steadily. A pair of antlers coming into view as it sniffed the air. I held my breath, staring intensely at it. Then the rest of the head came into view, and I let my arrow loose instantly.

Without a sound, the arrow flew through the air, hitting the deer just behind the eye, killing it instantly. I quickly ran up to the body, kneeling down beside it and whispered the Bæn.

“Forgive me world. For I, who have sinned, shall use this offering too further mankind and herald forth your utopia.” And then quickly motioning a small circle above my heart before tugging the arrow out of its head. The deer had been a far distance away from the camp, but somehow managing to sneak it’s way up behind me. I cursed at my blunder. Letting something get that close to me without realising it was, out of the question stupid, a deadly mistake, not even worth a laugh. I really needed to stop daydreaming.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Yet again, a ruffle in the woods threw my thoughts into action, body launching itself behind a tree. I focused my gaze, trying to find the source, being somewhere beyond the camp, opposite where I hid. Then I saw him, storming in like an angered moose. The peculiar man stomped loudly, crashing through the brush and into the light of the fire. He came running at dizzying speeds, looking like he would overshoot the actual camp.

Arms holding his sword tightly, bloodied with new and old blood. He stopped with a hard slide, throwing dirt and grass everywhere. Then scanned around, tilting his head to the side while spinning swiftly. I noted in my perifery that the kid was hiding himself behind his blanket, pushing himself back against a tree while saying, with a slight panic in his tone.

“W-what’s happen-“ The kid tried, but the peculiar man moved close, pushing his hand on top of the kid's mouth. Still tilting his head, listening for something. Something that was me. And I was very content with staying still, heart beating faster than a rabbit in flight.

Okay, that does it; He has to be a warrior of Heimurfólks. There are no other explanations for his inexplicable skills, speed, and hearing. Only a priest or warrior from Heimurfólks would venture, on their own accord, out into these wildernesses and just wander around. I’m assuming searching for Hlutur. Although that doesn’t explain the kid. He’s far too scared to be anything, but a lost child. It’s impossible that he’s a child of Heimurfólks, a child of this peculiar man as the Heimurfólks don’t get children.

Staring at the pair in complete silence, I held my breath, keeping ever so still, like calm water. Not even a droplet would break my stillness. I waited while staring at the peculiar man, looking like a wolf sniffing for prey, like a hawk scanning, like a father protecting his child.

Several minutes of silence passed, the burning and crackling of wood the only sound. The peculiar man did eventually lighten the grip around his sword, removing his hand from the kid's mouth while kneeling down to face him. A bright smile crossed his face, giving a big thumbs up. The kid didn’t show any reaction, merely shuffling closer to the lit campfire.

The sparks of tinder contrasting with the dark forest, lighting it all up in a dim light, looking like stars in the sky, embers in a smithy, searching their way up towards the dark canopy.

A soft rumbling echoed out from the kid's stomach. The peculiar man shuffling beside the kid, using his hands to imitate eating, then pointing at the kid. The kid nodded slightly in response, and the peculiar man smiled, then gestured that he’d be back, walking away soundlessly with sword in hand.

The kid kept still, unmoving and unflinching as he sat dangerously close to the fire. A momentary thought passed my brain as I wondered why the blanket wasn’t catching fire. Then a new came, and I stared at the dead deer. Feeling a compulsion that seemed foreign and stupid, a thought that my old man would beat me for having. But it felt mandatory, as soon as I had it, it wouldn’t leave, and guilt started welling up.

I swore soundlessly, deciding against my better judgment and started to crawl towards the dead deer. Cursing myself for what I was about to do. Coming up on the deer, I removed the arrow stuck in its head, then took a firm grip on the deers hind legs, and quietly started dragging it towards the campfire.

I was very slow on purpose, pulling the deer centimeter by centimeter. Minute after minute. I crawled up behind the little kid, staying out of sight, going very quietly. My nerves were boiling in freight, brain cursing me endlessly, sweat pouring a river behind me, feeling stupid, wondering if I was actively seeking death.

Eventually I was mere meters away from the kid, close enough I felt, dropping the deer soundlessly and, in slight panic, shuffling away. Once out of the light from the camp, I hid behind a random tree. Glancing around it back into the camp, I breathed out in delight. I hadn’t been spotted, or at least, the kid hadn’t spotted me. I turned my attention away from the kid and down at the ground, crouching down too search for a small rock. Finding one, I stood up again and threw it at the fire, hitting it dead on.

The kid turned in freight, his eyes going wide at the sudden rock, then even wider as he spotted the dead deer. His mouth peaked up and over the big blanket, his body visibly shaking, his hands frantically searching around for something. I felt momentary guilt, but shook it away quickly, knowing that this was only temporary. The kid remained with his mouth opened, but no scream came. Instead, taking out two rounded metal things, clicking them together in a frantic manner.

A second later, the peculiar man barreled in like thunder, crashing through the brush and dousing the fire in dirt and rocks. His sword drawn with blood trickling down to his hand. The kid kept tapping the metal against each other, staring wildly at the peculiar man. The man jumped towards him, grabbing the two metal things and pushing the kid behind himself, sword held naturally with a firm stance. The fire dangerously close to their backs.

“There’s a deer, four meters to your right” The kid whispered, pushing himself closer to the peculiar man. The man turned, pointing his sword slightly to the right of the deer. The kid stated “A little more to your left”, and the man reoriented himself accordingly and pointed himself directly at the deer. The peculiar man then tapped on the kids head, and slowly, walked towards the dead deer, head tilted to the side.

One step, two steps, three steps. Long and slow, meticulous, moving closer. I held my breath, feeling like a professional pearl diver at this point. Then once he was within reach, he swiped the sword horizontally through the air at chest height, meeting no resistance. I almost felt myself breathing out, the situation tense, but his action’s comical. The kid raised his voice. “It’s on the ground” And the man nodded, pushing the sword down, finally meeting resistance, sticking itself into the stomach of the deer. He flinched back, seemingly shocked and confused. Then a second later, he pushed again, deeper within the deer, a trickle of blood oozing out.

The man breathed out, then motioning for the kid that it was okay, pulling out the sword and loosening his grip around it, although he kept his head tilted. The kid nodded weakly, then sat down and kept his back close to the fire, scanning the surrounding with his mouth covered by the blanket, his hand firmly holding the two metal things. I couldn’t help but smile. The kid might be helpless, but he seemed smart.

My eyes switched back to the peculiar man as he started, dragging the deer closer to the fire and dropping it unceremoniously. Pulling out his knife then proceeding to butcher the poor creature, piles upon piles of meat wasted. His sword closely placed on his right, and scabbard to his left.

The tension in my body lightened slowly, easing away until it felt like a knot came loose. I slid down the tree I was leaning on while breathing out, feeling immeasurably happy that the peculiar man hadn’t found me, nor noticed me. Again, my mind went thoughtful. The peculiar man was getting more and more weird by the second. From the way he’s using that sword, he’s absolutely a master swordsman, a Heimurfólk. But then he went and poked the air like that. What? This is getting ridiculous.

The night continued on. Me trapped in thoughts, drifting like the embers of fire. The peculiar man slowly butchered and roasted the deer. The pair eating in silence, content by the food. I let my eyes stare at the two while my mind wandered, seeing a flash of a smile on the kids face as he took his fifth bite, the smile quickly fading while he stared into the fire. I focused my attention on the kid, mind growing a little lighter. Then quickly shook my head, shaking away the smile that had crept onto my face. Don’t get attached; These people are dangerous.

I then turned too stare at the peculiar man instead, focusing on trying to figure something out, seeing him looking very content, eating the meat messily and greedily, a big smile plastered underneath the grime and dirt. But weirdly, his cloak didn’t have a single fat streak or dirty spot. Although his pants couldn’t escape the disaster that was his eating, becoming a dull brownish-red.

Chewing on a piece of jerky, I found my mood growing tired and sluggish, mind wandering away from the pair, going somewhere else. Finding it wondering about that deer. How is it possible for it to be here? That troll Hlutur rarely lets something that big out of its territory. Nor should that bear have let it be, what is going on?

But my thoughts slipped away yet again, caught by the winds of fatigue. Too tired, too much happening, too much to think about. Swallowing the last piece of jerky, I leaned back on my tree, closing my eyes and sleep quickly taking over. Bringing me dreams of good times, of warm food and good company. A smile sneaking its way to my face, leaning on the tree with a warm feeling in my chest.

Another day, another day of nothing to show for it. Why am I even following them anymore? There’s so many questions, and none are being answered by me just following them. I’ve even started to consider just straight up asking them. I won’t do that obviously. But this boredom, this nothingness is driving me crazy. But at the same time, not knowing why they are here is driving me equally as mad. It’s a vicious cycle, and I don’t know how to get out of it.

Well, let’s list what I know, maybe I’ll understand this more. One, he has to be a warrior priest of Heimurfólk. Two, he’s really skilled with that sword. And three.

I got nothing.

Oh no, no I do. That kid is obviously some sort of rescue, maybe his kid? Though that would mean that he’s not a Heimurfólk, which wouldn’t add up. Okay, let’s think. I’ll assume that the peculiar man, no, can’t call him that, that stupid. Old guy, yeah, much better. That old guy somehow wandered through troll territory, found that kid, presumably a survivor in some sort of disaster caused by the troll. Then they managed to escape without getting followed and made their way here.

Seems reasonable enough. If not for their total, stupidly, lackluster sense of direction. If I didn’t know any better, that old guy must be blind. I would normally think that, but he’s far too aware to be blind, I’ve seen too many pathetic excuses for humans that lacked eyes. They don't move like he do; They don't see, like he do.

Okay, amazing, now I have a grasp on why they are here, maybe? Probably not. The question now is, why follow them? Yes, good question me. And to answer that, I don't know. I mean, it feels like they are important, but I don't usually care about important people. Yes, I’ve helped myself to a few supply wagons in the past. A few “important” people might have lost some precious things. But when these people have been highly guarded, I’ve always left them alone. These two tho? I don't know, I’m still here with nothing but an eldsteinn as a possible reward. And the possible satisfaction of understanding their situation. Why do I even care?

As I pondered, I noticed a brief flash of brown in the woods. On instinct I immediately ducked down, going completely frozen as I scanned with focused eyes, searching for the flash of brown. A second later, a new blur, this time I kept my eyes on it, recognising something big, something terribly furry. I drew an arrow, placing it gingerly on the bow, aiming it down, fingers caressing the string, ready to pull in an instance. A quick glance towards the pair clued me in that they too had noticed the disturbance. The old guy was holding one arm protectively in front of the kid, the other on his drawn sword, his head tilted. Another blur drew my eyes, moving fast between the trees and foliage, hiding its furry presence.

I aimed my bow, trying to guide it in front of the furry existence, but it was positioned in such a way that trees and bushes hid it from view. But then it dashed into sight, barreling towards the odd pair, gushes of dirt and rocks spewing from its big hooves. The big furry thing being an enormous moose, easily taller than a human, and strangely agile for its humongous size. It was dashing towards them, faster than any normal human could run, its head pointed down, giant antlers formed like a trident on its head.

I aimed my bow, steadying my aim and readied myself to release. but hesitated, from this angle I wouldn’t be able to get the killing shot, straight behind its eye. The tilt of its neck kept its head beneath ground level.

I swore inwardly, jogging alongside it, trying to gain better altitude and therefore a better shot, but the moose ran forward to fast, seemingly unhindered by the foliage in its way. I did my best to follow, to keep pace. My legs pumping chemicals, muscles flexing and burning energy.

The pair had turned to face the maddened moose. The old man keeping his sword pointed at it, his hand pushing the kid backwards. Kid looking absolutely terrified, holding his arms around his blanket, using it like a shield in front of him. The two of them stopped as they backed into a tree, the kid letting out a soundless yelp, the old guy confused for a second.

I stopped and aimed, feeling the seconds tick by too slow, but also too fast, not being ready, yet having to be. As I raised the bow and readied myself, I found myself hesitant. The shot wouldn’t land; It would, at best, hit the antlers and steer it away from them. I panicked, the thought of having to choose made me freeze. And then the moment passed, the second passed, the threshold of decision over, and I found myself too late to choose.

The moose ran like mad. The old guy leaning forward heavily, then taking a firmer grip around the kid and throwing him aside, jumping the opposite direction. The moose seemed momentarily confused by the move, tilting its head slightly upwards, finding itself unable to choose. its momentary confusion leading it to run headfirst into the tree. Dazed and confused, it rose its head up. My brain sending out a pulse to shoot, muscle-memory taking over as they made the perfect shot for me. The arrow flew true, flew perfectly, flying squarely into the back of the moose's head, puncturing skull and dragging its brain with it. The moose froze, head tilting slightly to the side, then slowly tipping over.

Seconds of silence passed, I pulled out another arrow and nocked it quickly, then minutes passed. And I let out a breath of relief, momentarily surprising myself by my relief, and closing my eyes. As I opened them, I saw the old guy walking towards me, one hand holding his sword, his expression deathly serious. I took one step back in surprise, yelling.

“Dont come any closer, or I’ll sho-“ But my words stuck in my throat as the old guy dashed fast towards me, making me fire frantically, missing entirely as it flew past him. I blinked, and then the old guy was on me, holding one arm around my bow while pulling, dragging me forwards into an awkward embrace. He pushed me back, still holding my bow-arm, the bow still firmly attached. He stood still for a second, tilting his head in momentary confusion, but quickly shook whatever thought he had and focused on me. Or maybe not exactly at me, more like, attempting, as his head was looking somewhere behind me.

“Okay, okay sorry I yield” I whimpered out, attempting to raise my arms in surrender, but his iron grip kept my bow-arm low, leaving only my other arm reaching awkwardly up to the sky. “Yeah, I can’t really drop that unfortunately, you know, handicap and all” I stated, trying to not sound humorous, but failing miserably, getting a raised eyebrow in response, then tilting his head to the other side. I gulped down some saliva, a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead. I pondered for a millisecond if I should struggle, try to grab my knife, try to hit him. But immediately crushed the thought. The way he moved, the way he ran, his quick thinking, the muscles on his neck, all of it adding together to make me feel quite inadequate at handling the situation in close combat.

He bent down, dropping his sword on the ground, not gently mind you, while still holding my bow-arm, his expression enough to dissuade me from any dumb ideas. Then he lightly caressed my body, which was weird, and more terrifying than it sounded. Moving from one arm to the other, only stopping once he met my holster, swiftly removing it as he swung it around his own shoulder. Searching a bit more, he found my knife, stowing it away beside his own. And then, after searching some more and not finding anything, he let go of my bow-arm.

I stumbled back, not even noticing that I was leaning backwards, taking a second to find my balance. The old guy had picked up his sword and turned around, walking away as if there was nothing more to it.

I stood there dumbfounded and confused. My brain malfunctioning, going into total lockdown. Then it stirred back into reality as the old guy walked up to the kid, and I met the kid's small eyes. Shaking my head fervently, I quickly yelled. “You know, I can’t really survive in these woods without those arrows!”. The old guy glanced back, but didn’t respond, gesturing for the kid to hurry up while packing up their meager stuff they owned.

Momentary annoyance muddled my brain. The days of nothing, of boredom, of being tired, did not help me calm down. My brows furrowed, and I decided, very stupidly, to follow them.

Jogging up, I kept a few meters behind them, holding their pace. The kid sneaked a peak before walking to the opposite side of the old guy, keeping me as far away from him as possible. The old guy twitched his head towards me, his right hand moving to rest on his sword, staring me down aggressively. My annoyance immediately forgotten, a clump of saliva getting stuck in my throat. I gulped, making a conscious effort to stay at least five steps behind.

Then I kept pace, following them through the forest. The kid periodically glanced back at me, each time looking away when I tried meeting his eyes. The old guy ignored me fully, even taking wider steps, walking faster. Something that only led to him bumping into more trees. Probably the only humorous thing about this whole ordeal.

It was, very awkward, I have to say. I don’t know why he won’t just tell me to “fuck off”, nor why he doesn’t just kill me. It would be a funny death.

Okay okay, focus. I don't know what I expected; I don’t think I expected anything to be honest. But when I finally get the chance to talk to them, and I find them just stealing my shit then giving me the cold shoulder? That was not what I was expecting. I don't blame him tho. But like, fuck if this is annoying. Not only won’t I get my answers, but I’ll probably die out here.

Okay, I won't die. If worse comes to worst, I’ll just use them as bait, then take my stuff from their dead bodies. But that would not sate my curiosity.

Time moved on, myself drowned in thoughts, the two of them walking in silence. I had an easy time keeping up, even during their vein attempts at trying to jog away. The old guy was a lot more clumsy than I’d thought, practically running headfirst into every tree, even the kid got annoyed and started guiding him.

My annoyance peaked as the old guy walked into another tree. Growing above my fear of death, winning over my fear of the old guy. And I blurted out, disturbing the quiet forest. “Why are you guys here?”

No response. Not surprising. What felt surprising was that the kid reacted, jumping slightly in shock. I chuckled at his reaction; The kid whipping his head at me and giving me the nastiest glare. And with nasty I mean looking like a mouse trying to intimidate a cat, which just made me chuckle even harder.

Wiping away a tear, I noticed that the kid had taken an even larger step away from me, blocking himself from view behind the old guy. I smiled at that, then looked up at the old guy, trying to decipher his reaction. But alas, nothing, it’s like trying to read a book. Very hard.

Okay, so he didn’t kill me after I said something, nor did the kid. So talking is a-okay, I guess. But if I get a response is up to god, I assume. Let’s try something else.

“I can see that you guys are having a great time out here.”

The kid peeked around the old guy, glaring at me, like looking at an insect. I met his glare with a smile, then peeked up at the old guy. The old guy had tilted his head slightly towards me, his expression neutral, with a single brow raised. At least it was a reaction, I count that as a win.

“I’m having a blast, it’s been a real thrill following you guys for several days. I have to add that I love how I’ve not been thanked for saving your guy's life”.

I said with a playful tone, digging for more reactions. The kid looked overly surprised, then quickly back to glaring, grabbing a firmer hold around the old guy. Oh, my god I love this kid, his reactions are priceless. Or maybe I’m just that bored?

Thinking that, I looked up, seeing that the old guy was frowning, his lips slightly parted, seeming guilty? I was momentarily stunned, falling out of pace, having to jog to get back. Did he just look guilty? For what? Wait, is he that type of guy? Oh shit, that totally explains the kid! He must have picked up the kid for some sad reason.

I can use this.

“You know, if I dont get those arrows back, I’ll probably die out here”

The old guy shifted his head away, not quite turned towards me but still leaning back. His previous frown turned annoyed, then looked forward, going back to ignoring me. I glanced down, seeing the kid smiling.

Okay, that didn’t work. And two, I take it back; I don’t like that kid. Anyway, the old guy isn’t the type of person who does anything for strangers. So maybe the kid’s like a relative? Or he felt some duty to save the kid? It would explain why he felt guilty for not thanking me after saving them.

Then maybe, he’s out here hunting something?

My mind froze at that thought, an image of a bear creeping into mind, hatred and guilt following it. My teeth grinding against one another, eyes narrowing to a narrow slit, hands clenching hard. My musing were washed away as I noticed the old guy glancing back at me, his sword raised slightly.

Oops, I kinda went gloomy there, didn’t I? I can’t be threatening right now, that would be a bad idea.

I cleared my throat and looked sheepishly to the side, using an overly friendly tone as I asked.

“Sooo, looking for anything interesting out here?”

No reaction, not a surprise. Although he did lighten his grip around his sword, seemingly sighing in, frustration? Its hard to read a person purely on reactions.

I coughed, regaining his attention, noticing the kid poking his head to the side of the old guy, listening in.

“So you’re not looking for anything? Not even a Hlutur?”

The old guy stopped as the name left my mouth, turning around towards me real quick, his sword held painfully hard. The kid turning with him, looking with wide eyes at me, grabbing the old guy with two trembling hands.

I glanced in their direction, trying to seem nonchalant, but feeling far from it. Their reactions being a lot more acute, more alert than I would have assumed. Almost as if, as if they didn’t know they were within Hlutur territory.

And with that thought, it dawned on me, or I think it did. These people are refugees from somewhere up the mountain. Come here for some unknown reason. I’m assuming the troll, or something worse.

But, still. How they’ve survived up there is beyond my comprehension, nor why a Heimurfólk would go alone up there, nor why he has a kid with him.

From what I can gather, these two are trying to find civilization? But due to being sheltered mountain people, or something? They have had no idea where to find it? But that does not explain how they’ve survived within troll territory for, who knows how long.

Okay, maybe I don't get it after all. Although, what I can confirm, is that they’re running from something. Their reaction to hearing about a Hlutur confirms it, I think.

Aaaah, damn brain, help me. Do what your supposed to do best!

The old guy took a step in my direction, his sword held firm, kid following tightly behind. I shook myself from thoughts, just noticing that I blanked out, sputtering out spittle and words, before he got any bad ideas.

“Duuh, uh. Hey! We both know that you guys are in deep shi-trouble? Yes? So, why don’t we agree on a deal?”

The old guy didn’t change his expression, continuing his slow walk forward. The kid looked around nervously. I took a step back, my eyes growing wider with each step, alarm blaring in my head. I continued with my spiel.

“Uuh, ud, dugh. Aah! I’m a rekjasporeinhvers! I can help you guys!.”

The old guy merely tilted his head, looking more confused than interested, walking a little faster. Me walking backwards equally fast. I gulped away the stone in my heart and tried explaining quickly.

“I’m a tracker, for short. We are paid to scour these woods. I know the nearest settlemEEENT!”

I said, shouting the last part, air pushing its way out of my lungs as something hard hit my back. Glancing back, I noticed a tree. Grumbling a soundless curse, I momentarily forgot the old guy, quickly remembering, neck twisting around blindingly fast. And promptly hitting my head again as I jerked it back in surprise, cursing loudly. The old guy had pushed his face inches close to mine.

“Fuck.”

The old guy smiled at that, then reached his hand forward, reaching with his swordless hand. I scratched the back of my head, fear forgotten, replaced by pain and soft anger. I glared down at his hand in confusion, darting down and up. Asking when he didn’t give me an explanation.

“What?”

He smiled wider at that, then started shaking his hand. I looked down on it, still confused.

Until a light lit in my head, and my mouth gestured similarly as I said.

“Oooh, you want to shake on it?”

The old guy nodded. And I started thinking. Letting seconds tick by as I weighed my options. Saying I would take them to the nearest settlement without pay? That would be far too generous, so let’s try something.

“I’ll take you home, if you give me my arrows back, and your eldsteinn”

The old guy’s smile faltered immediately, his hand moving away while his body started turning, taking a big step away. The kid trailing right behind, glaring at me openly, his small hands still trembling somewhat.

I stood still by the tree, dazed by his quick reaction, having to take a few seconds to realise that that was his answer. I scrambled after them; The kid moving around the old guy to be in front of him, leaving me shouting at the back of the old guy.

“Hey! Okay that was a bad deal, I agree. So why don’t we say I get my arrows back and I’ll show you to the nearest settlement?”

The two kept walking, seemingly not interested. I tried once more, trying to not sound desperat.

Failing.

“One arrow?”

Which managed to stop him, the old guy glancing back with his body, the kid turning with him. Then he walked towards me, smiling brightly once more while quickly grabbing a hold of my hand, shaking it energetically. I stared a little frightened at him, noticing the kid smiling smugly behind him. Then, when the old guy let me go, he looked expectant at me, his arms at his hip, sword sheathed wearing a bright smile.

And I stared at him, and I pondered, wondered, if I really should have saved them.

Hours passed as I led the two of them, the woods floating by, a distant memory as soon as it passed, noting the few landmarks I could find, scanning the sky to try to get a grip on our exact location. Tracking at day can be hard, considering the lack of stars guiding your way. The sun is good and all, but it can be a tad unreliable when it’s in the middle of the day, staring straight down at you.

My thoughts wandering, going back to the old guy, cursing myself for being a nervous wreck. Why was I even scared after telling him about the Hlutur? It’s not like he would have killed me for mentioning something like that, if he had, he would have killed me earlier when he held my bow. He probably just wanted to ask me how I knew about the Hlutur, or ask me how to get them out of here? Shit, why did I even help them? Why do I even help them? He’s done nothing but confuse me. Even now after I’ve talked to them, I feel just as lost as when I was following them. To be honest, I’m worse of now than before.

I glanced down at the kid, peeking around the old guy. The kids’ eyes meeting mine for a brief second, the two of us staring at each other before the kid took a step behind the old guy, hiding himself while sheepishly looking at me. I smiled at that, peeking even further around the old guy, noting the kid keeping the old guy's body between me and him. I kept peeking, practically walking in front of the old guy, noting the kid standing further behind him, staring warily at me. My smile widened even further seeing that, taking another step to the side of the old guy, noting the kid taking a step opposite me. I kept going, starting to walk around the old guy, the kid mimicking, frantically holding and letting go. I increased my speed, the kid practically jogging, my smile widening as the kids blanket fell off slightly, revealing a tiny face, both smiling and looking terrified. My pace increased even further, the two of us practically running around the old guy. Then I suddenly stopped, turning around and pushing my hand out in anticipation of the kid. He came bumping into my finger.

A small puff of air leaked out, two small hands quickly rubbing at the top of his head and a small giggle leaking out. His eyes went up, and his giggle dimmed to nothing as he saw me, then he quickly hid behind the old guy again, his face crunching down into a furious frown. I laughed seeing that, noticing the old guy also smiling, patting the kid protectively, pulling him close.

The walk then continued in silence. More hours passing, the kid doing his best to not falter to my attempts at angering him, the old guy doing his best to not laugh, or maybe he was laughing? Hard to tell.

Eventually, light started dimming, indicating the end of a day. I stared up at the sky, noting the guiding stars, remembering their positions, deciding to walk a bit further. The darkness starting to blend the environment into one blob of darkness, my mind not getting enough information to stay focused, finding myself thinking back. Back on times when I would walk with my own old man. During better times, safer times. Happier times.

----------------------------------------

“Hey, Jake, do you know why I’m here?” The old man asked me, giving me a weird look that I’ve never seen before. And why is he using my name? Have I done something bad? Oh no, did he notice that I hadn’t dug the latrine yet?. I took a bite out of my dried jerky to try to conceal my fear, responding with a mouthfull of meat.

“No, not really” He smiled at my answer, patting my head lightly. I shrugged it off, pushing the hand away, but he remained persistent, patting harder the more I tried to fend it away.

After patting me for an annoyingly long time, he stopped, letting his big hand rest on the top of my head while staring out into the woods, taking a deep breath. I shuffled around, doing my best to wiggle out of his big hand, but finding it impossible, being firmly held within his grasp. My nerves at being discovered washed away by my annoyance, wanting nothing but hit him right now.

“I thought so” He said, with such seriousness that my body froze in place, staring up at him in surprise. He slowly looked down on me, meeting my eyes. He gave me a serious look, freezing me in place, letting my arms fall down to the ground. A lump pushing its way up my throat, sweat lightly caressing my armpits.

I was so screwed; He knows.

“Jake, you see. I’ve been... You remember that rabbit that took your arm?” He said with a somber tone. I relaxed hearing that. I wasn’t screwed, and breathed out. Although his face remained serious and rather solemn? Never seen that look before. I answered hesitantly, taking another bite out of my jerky.

“Yes”. He nodded at that, then said. “Well, that's why I’m here” Then quickly looked away, staring out into the dark forest. Taking a deep, calming breath. Acting as if he had just told me something heart wrenching. I found myself a little peeved, what the heck? Why be so dramatic?

“What the fuc-?” I started, but paused upon seeing the old man's expression.

He looked sad.

A few minutes passed. I felt nervous. Fiddling with the bow strap, trying to make it more comfortable on the mechanical arm. Then the old man breathed out, taking my attention again as I looked up at him.

“Jake, your amazing, never seen anyone move like you, or fight like you.” He paused for a second, slowly taking his eyes away from the forest, looking down at me. His eyes wet, but not tearing, voice cracking as he said his final words to me.

“You’ll be fine.”

----------------------------------------

Walking into our makeshift camp, holding a rabbit by the ear, I kept a tight grip around the single arrow that I had been graciously gifted by that old fart, I mean old guy. He may have grown more trusting towards me, but just one arrow? Haven’t I proven myself already? What kind of trust is this?

Nearing the campfire, the light danced red on the kid's forehead, sitting dangerously close. I glanced at him while plumping my ass down on the opposite side of the fire, dropping the rabbit beside me. The old guy tilted his head slightly at the noise, sitting beside the kid, but didn’t do anything, going back to staring into the fire, eyes glazed, unfocused. Both of his hands resting on his sword, lightly caressing the old cloth wrapped around the handle. The kid glanced up as I sat down, hiding as much of his face behind the blanket as he could, his eyes like two shining, angry, stars. I smiled and waved, chuckling when he looked away.

Once seated comfortably, I started unbuckling straps from my left arm, slowly but meticulously removing my bow. A procedure that usually took a minute or two depending on the level of fatigue I held. And right now, I was quite tired. Considering that we’ve been walking non-stop for days, with me being unofficially assigned to pretty much every duty. Including, but not limited too, hunting, fetching wood, checking for predators and leading us the hell out of here.

I sighed at the thought, focusing on the straps on my arm, feeling it resist my tugging, forcing me to pull harder than usual, then even harder. Eventually, it yielded to my pulling, accidental ripping the bow of forcefully, arm swinging back wildly, bow smattering dangerously close to the fire.

“Fucking shit” I cursed loudly, jumping forward to grab the bow, pulling it back with the heat tasting my face.

I’ve been out here for too long. I must oil this up when I get back to town, hopefully I didn’t ruin anything.

Looking up, I could see the old guy smiling, although he didn’t look at me. Glancing to the kid, I could see him staring with wide eyes at my arm. Moving the arm slowly to one side, the kids eyes followed. Moving it to the other side, his eyes followed. A tug of a smile breached my exhaustion, and I asked.

“Intrigued?” The kid looked up, meeting my stare, then quickly looked away. I smiled even further, then looked down at my arm. It was made of metal and wood, a long line of runes running from the top of my arm, down to the part that attaches my bow. Built by one who calls himself a rune-smith, the best engineers in the world.

Although if someone asked me how good he was, I wouldn't know, never will, I guess. The arm attaches to my severed arm that goes down to just above the elbow. Lucky me to have had to amputate above the elbow, yippie to lose the thing that makes an arm functional. Well, don’t be like that, when it’s powered with my þrótti it’ll work just like an arm! If you could only raise it up and down and had no way of moving it side to side. What the hell. This is supposedly at the peak of technology. I don’t buy it; It’s pretty useless as an arm.

“What happened?” I was shaken from my thoughts by a voice. A voice! Blinking several times, I looked around frantically, searching for the perpetrator. But upon searching, I found no one. Then I looked to the kid, meeting his eyes and seeing his small mouth peeking out slightly from his protective blanket. I had to take a minute to think back on what he had just asked me, then looked back to him, answering.

“Well, let’s just say I was used as bait.” The kid raised an eyebrow at that, but then went silent again. I continued to look at him, noting him staring at my arm, intrigued and a bit disgusted. I smiled seeing that, momentarily pleased by my scar. Thoughts slowly coming back to rob me of my focus, tying my brain in past memories, looking down at the scar of an arm.

The night continued, I shook myself from thoughts, focusing on carving the rabbit. Keeping the pelt for myself and giving out the meat to the three of us, cooked and steaming. While I did that, the old guy graciously bowed in gratitude, taking the meat. The kid just reached for his portion. And maybe it was my imagination, keep in mind that I’ve not spoken to people in weeks, but I think I heard the kid whisper “thank you”.

While eating, we spoke no words, like usual. The kid ate while staring at the fire, his blanket getting wetted by the fat of the meat, although, was stil oddly clean. Strange, very strange. I turned to the old guy, noting that he looked very serious for some reason, his head tilted, barely eating his food.

I continued to stare at him, oddly fascinated by his weirdly focused face. My eyes strangely transfixed, blaming that on not having anything else to do. But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have noticed his eyes getting a glimmer of focus, glowing in a bright grey luster, life filling them where before there was none. The next second, he was up on his feet, sword drawn and held in two hands, staring out into the darkness of the forest. I quickly scrambled up on my feet, scanning the surroundings for what could have spooked the old guy, cursing myself for unstrapping my bow.

Seconds passed in silence.

Then it came into view. A vision straight out of nightmares. A beast, a monster. The very thing I’ve spent weeks, month, years trying to find. Casually walking past a tree as it made its way into our little camp.

I froze in place, my thoughts muddled in my head. The very thing I had promised myself not to do. My eyes stuck on the moving horror.

The beast, the Hlutur, the bear lumbered to a stop. Eyes like grey skies, almost shining as it stared at us, looking like a bear that had done nothing but training for its entire life, bigger than any moose. A low sound of a crack came from the bear, and slowly, it started smiling, sounds of bones creaking into place. It spoke almost formally.

“Well lookie here, finaly some worthwhile prey.”

A voice sounding like someone had stitched together several throats, gurgling marbles while being pierced by a sword. Its eyes tasting each of us, like staring at pieces of rabbit meat, only stopping once it landed on the old guy and his sword. Its smile fading with an audible crack, turning to a feral growl, exposing vicious talons as long as my hands. Another crack of bone. Then it spoke.

“I smell troll. Why does your sword smell of that blasted troll?”

The old guy merely stepped to the side, putting a hand in front of the kid, pushing him behind himself. The kid obeyed, weirdly obedient for the situation. But glancing at his face, I saw terror, horrors lived that would have scarred even the most battle-hardened veterans, a face not fit for a kid.

While the bear talked, I managed to rouse myself from fear, leaning slowly towards my bow, doing my best to not get its attention. My bow awkwardly far away, having to take a step to reach it.

It twisted its head faster than any normal animal should be able to do and stared at me. It spoke again, eyes dark grey, practically beaming with hunger and hate.

“I remember your scent. Why do I remember your scent?”

It readied itself; Its growl viscous, freezing my blood solid. I cursed silently, jumping to grab my bow, drawing my singular arrow from my holster, holding it feebly.

It sprung into action, a tiny bit slower than the black rabbit from so long ago, but faster than I could ever hope of achieving.

I took a quick step back, pointing my arrow at it in a desperate attempt at protecting myself.

So this is how I die?

I found myself thinking, staring into the open maw of the bear's mouth, revealing a set of smaller teeth that were still bigger than my fingers. Then the next second, its lower jaw was cut halfway through, bringing with it a flood of blue blood. The second after that, the bear's hide turned darker, shinier, more metallic. But I didn’t get to see that, instead I was pushed aside from the left by a very strong arm. Metal creaking under the force, wood splintering, bending and cracking the delicate contraption that was my left arm.

Tumbling around, I quickly reorientated myself onto my feet, scanning the immediate surroundings. Eyes stopping on the bear's jaw, the upper part gushing out blood, the lower missing, exposing the top of its mouth and big canines poking downwards. It somehow still managed to growl, a deep resonating sound, shaking me to the bone. Then it spoke.

“You’ll regret that”

The old guy was standing where I had just been holding his sword with both hands, dripping in fresh, blue blood. When the bear spoke, the old guy opened his mouth, looking as if he was about to say something. But the bear was quicker than, springing into action, barreling forwards in impossible speed, forcing him to jump away to not get clawed in half.

But as the old guy jumped to the side, he hit a tree. A momentary look of shock crossing his face, quickly turning focused and harsh. Bringing up his sword while ducking with all his might. The bear noticed the blunder, veering its giant paw to intercept the attempted dodge, seeking flesh.

Claw met sword, sparks ringing out. The bear continued forward, its speed pushing it onwards with momentum alone. The claw dragging its way up the sword and hitting the tree behind the old guy, carving out four giant marks. The old guy got pushed back into the tree, arms pushed back against his chest, using every bit of strength to shield himself from the claws, keeping them at bay.

But the body of the bear couldn't be stopped, its razor sharp pelt that looked more like swords than hide, brushed past the left side of the old guy, dragging with it blood and flesh.

In a last act of defiance, the old guy dropped down with a speed and grace that looked inhuman, and managed to bring the sword out of the bears giant paws, swinging it up at the bears head, completely cutting off the hanging lower jaw, and cutting with it the snout of the bear. Blood pouring out and covering the ground, the bear still barrelling forwards, bringing with it a big part of the tree.

The whole battle taking only a few seconds, but the old guy took heavy breaths as he turned to face the bear, landing on a knee, hand quickly going towards his wounded arm, pushing hard to stop the bleeding.

The bear, in turn, used its giant paws to try to stop itself, dragging with it dirt and stones, flying around like rice in a bowl, carving out a path as it slid to a stop. When it stopped, the tree slowly crumbled from the gash that the bear had carved out, tilting to the side and falling down with a loud cracking.

The two of them stared at each other, one with blue blood dripping from a face. The other red blood dripping from a limp arm. Tree shaking the ground. No movements.

“I know your weakness” The bear suddenly spoke, casting an eye towards me, eyes glittering with something that I can only explain as lust.

Then it turned around and walked away, leaving the clearing deathly silent.

It all happened so fast, I was still dazed and confused, not quite sure what had just happened.

The kid.

My mind flashed. Quickly twisting my sight towards him. I saw a kid sitting on his butt, hands covering his ears, eyes tightly shut, a blanket wrapped around in a protective embrace.

I walked up to him, coming within arms reach, staring down lamely. Thoughts going back to other times, remembering pain, feeling deja vu.

Remembering how much I missed him.

I glanced up towards the old guy, seeing him breathing heavily, head turned up towards the sky. One arm still wrapped around his left. While I was looking at him, he slowly collected himself, pushing himself painfully up on his feet.

Then I had an epiphany.

And I cursed god, but laughed amidst the curses.

God, you play such tricks, to think you would do this to me, forcing me to watch past mistakes like this? I don't know if I should cry or laugh.

The old man always told me to laugh. Didn’t he?

I twisted my body towards the old guy, but kept my gaze at the kid. A wreck of a person, eyes so tightly shut that not even the brightest flame would penetrate, a scared little kid. His hands covering his ears so firmly not even the loudest explosion could be heard. He wasn’t a part of this world right now.

I had seen that before.

I patted the kids head, his eyes opening in a flash, looking up at me in horror. I smiled gently, patting his head gentler, but firmly, showing him that I’m here. He continued to stare, his mouth peeking up over his blanket, his hands slowly falling away from his ears. Eyes growing moist, tearful. Hands firmly pressing against his face, quiet sniffles, no sound. Yet his body shivered, shaking to the beat of his sorrow. I stared in sympathy, my hand patting him, like comforting a little kitten.

And times seemed to stop.

But eventually reality would always prevail, and I knew what I had to do.

“You’ll be fine.”

I whispered with a somber tone, removing my hand and walking towards the old guy. While walking, I picked up my bow, clicked it into place, attaching it fully. Then I started checking out the rest of my arm, noticing that a few parts had been bent inwards, but not dangerously so. And as I test drew it, I felt that its power hadn’t been diminished completely. With a bit of luck, its runes would still work. Hopefully.

The noise of me drawing the bow seemed to have gotten the old guy's attention, taking a stance while readying his sword, his arm still hanging limp. I sighed at seeing that.

“Dont worry. I’m not going to kill you. Although that would be funny.” I said, more to myself than to the old guy, yet proved to be enough for him, relaxing immediately at my words.

“No, I’m going out to kill that thing” I said with a serious tone, my words steeling my mind, preparing me for what has to be done. The old guy tensing at my words, a frown forming as he immediately shook his head vigorously. A frown of my own formed.

“What the fuck do you mean no? You almost died!” But he didn’t seem to care, continuing to shake his head. Then he pointed with his hand, still holding the sword, at the kid. Then pointing back at me. It took me a second, but I understood the intention.

“I am, by going out there killing that thing” He shook his head again, but this time used a slicing motion towards his neck, then pointed at me.

“I’d rather try to kill that thing and die than let others die for me!” I screamed, surprised by my own words, taking a step back. The old guy also seemed surprised, but caught himself quickly, letting his frown soften, turning to a gentle smile. I frowned, seeing that.

“Fuck you, I’m not doing this for you” I said, the last part turning to a whisper, eyes glancing at the kid. He shook his head at that response, looking more amused than annoyed. Then took a stumbling step backwards, his face cringed in pain. I took a step forwards while ripping off a piece of my clothing.

“Shit, I’ll bandage that, but you're in no shape to fight. Your sword is good, I’ll admit that, but it's no runic sword.” I said while bandaging his wound, which at a closer inspection, didn’t look too deep. The blood wasn’t gushing out, merely trickling, which probably indicated a flesh wound, maybe a fracture. I think, I’m not a magician.

After bandaging him in silence, I tried to ignore the fact that it could attack us at any second. At the corner of my eye, I noticed the kid moving closer to us. Eyes wide as he stared at the old guy. The old guy hadn’t noticed the kid, probably because his mind was elsewhere, probably scanning the woods.

“Kid, you know where my arrows are?” He looked up at me with frightened eyes, nodding hesitantly.

“Good, go get them for me” He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head quickly, moving in closer to me, then shifting and moving closer to the old guy. I sighed, then let my thoughts wander. Thinking while bandaging him, a plan started forming, a rough plan, yet better than nothing.

“We’ll fight it together.” The old man gave me a weird expression, seeming to dwell on it. But shrugged eventually and smiled. Before I could finish bandaging him fully, he pushed me away and went up on his feet. He twitched in pain but ignored it, testing out a few swings with his sword. I also rose on my feet, making sure that the bow was firmly attached while saying.

“Yeah, that won't do. Look, you might think you stand a chance against that thing, but trust me, you just got lucky. If it wasn’t strangely enraged it would have coated itself in that iron hide from the start. And once it does that, you would have no chance of cutting it.”

While talking, the old guy starting pacing around. Taking wide steps and measuring the distance between trees. All the while using his sword to practice swinging, to push at trees and sometimes kicking away smaller rocks. When I went silent, he gestured for me to continue talking.

“Anyway, you’re lucky, I’ve been hunting this particularly Hlutur for a long time, and I’ve managed to get my hands on a particularly rare bow with runes that’s perfect for things like that bear.” The old guy stopped measuring and looked at me, giving me a thumbs up, then swiftly going back to pacing. Bumping into trees and circling our little camp.

“Okay, so here’s my plan. It involves you getting its attention; While it charges you, I’ll shoot it. Hopefully, it dies, if not, then I shoot it until it does.” He nodded, but didn’t seem to fully listen. I sighed, not feeling particularly well about this cooperation. '

I started awkwardly caressing my bow, moving my hands towards my arro- Wait, where’s my arrows? I touched my singular arrow, but nothing more, turning around quick to try to find them. Doing that, I noticed that the kid was missing.

Where is the kid?

A lump immediately shot up my throat. I started pacing frantically, turning and twisting. The old guy tilted his head in confusion. Then I screamed.

“KID?!” The old guy noticed the shrillness in my voice, going completely still, tilting his head even further. I ignored him, frantically searching, jogging to where my arrows had last been. Placing the single arrow I held on the bow, drawing it slightly.

Then a metal ticking noise echoed out, somewhere behind the tree where the arrows had been. I darted towards it, turning the corner, and seeing the kid, holding his two iron things in his little hands. I let out a big breath upon seeing him, relaxing completely. But banished such thoughts as I heard it.

“I got you”

Jake had a hard time knowing what his own feelings meant. Yes, he did know what a joke was. And he knew what happiness felt like, or sadness, or anger. You know, the simple things.

But could you blame him? It is hard to understand your feelings. Can you describe the feeling you get when someone you’ve looked up to for your whole life, tells you “you did amazing”.

Or that ticklish feeling deep, in your stomach, when you get the courage to ask your crush out.

Or maybe that feeling when you see the only one you’ve ever loved being ripped to shreds because of a simple mistake?

Jake couldn’t. Emotions were hard for him.

So let me do it for him. A whirlwind of emotions twisted around his head upon seeing the Hlutur. Anger, horror, sadness, guilt, and so, so much more.

But what shocked Jake the most was when he saw its jaw. Perfectly normal and healed, as if it had just been reborn.

Although, the bear didn’t care for Jake at the moment. No, it already knew his scent. For this Hlutur had the ability to smell oh so very good, a big thanks to this body's previous owner. The Hlutur had noted Jake’s missing arm, noted his lack of ability to defend himself, and that it remembered his scent. If it had let him go once, it must have been for a good reason, a fun reason.

No, the bear was staring at the small human right now, its thoughts stuck on the sword wielding human. The human who had dared cause him harm, forcing him to use precious biomass to repair such a stupid mistake.

This human would pay for what he had done, and it knew exactly how.

Yes, it had seen how it protected the two other humans; It had shielded the smaller one and pushed the bigger one aside, using its own body as a barrier.

Yes, this human shall know suffering, I will kill the small human, then the bigger one. I shall do it slowly, savor the kill, lick his blood clean while he screams in horror.

Such thoughts rolled around in the Hlutur’s head, for it knew its emotions well; It knew what it wanted. And it wanted blood, terror and fear. It loved the hunt, and this human wouldn’t take that away from it.

The old man had already noticed the Hlutur, having seen it prey around their camp, moving from one end to the other. But he had miscalculated. While measuring out what he presumed would be the battlefield, the Hlutur had made its own plans, choosing its own battlefield.

It had moved plain as day for the old guy, but hidden from Jake and Chris. And after the little human had foolishly revealed its position, the hlutur had moved quickly, like the wind. The old man had moved as well, aiming to intercept once realising what the bear was aiming for, but his wound had hindered him, momentarily stopping him for no more than a second, but a second was all the bear needed.

And now, the only thing that could stop it was Jake.

Jake pulled out his bow without thinking, aiming it in a blur of motion. Then he knew, he knew he couldn’t hit it, for it was too fast.

Time ticked down to a boil, slower than quicksand.

He realised that the only way to hit the bear would be to let it kill the kid. The moment its jaw snatched the kid in its mouth, it would have to slow down. Not much, but enough for Jake.

Although, this thought hurt Jake, more than he understood. He couldn’t really comprehend why his vengeance wasn’t his number one priority.

He couldn’t understand why his choice wasn’t simple.

It should be so simple.

And then, he couldn’t understand why he was running, running faster than he had ever done in his entire life.

And in the next moment, Jake held the kid in his arms, a kid he did not even know the name of. And the both of them flew forward, Jake spinning around to use his left arm as a shield, shielding the both of them against terrifying death.

Then Jake had a thought;

This is how I die.

But death didn’t want him today, for the bear, with its incredible senses and power, had not predicted that not one, but two humans would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the lives of others. And had shut its jaw before it had noticed the bigger human grabbing the smaller one.

And as its jaws shut, it tasted metal and oil mixing together, with hints of leather and wood. It immediately shook its head in a wild fury, instincts taking over from its previous owner and tossed the awful tasting thing away.

Tossing the both of them directly to the old man.

Once the bear opened its eyes, it quickly recognised its mistake, and a new fury bubbled up from deep within. It cursed loudly and angrily, pushing its anger towards the now one armed human. It’s furr turning a shiny metal, growing spikes and hide turning sharper. It screamed, promising a slow and painful death upon the infuriating humans.

Then the sword wielding human smiled, a bright smile filled with happiness and joy. A smile that told, “everything will be alright, you did a great job”.

The bear was confused at first, but then realised that the human wasn’t smiling at it, no. For the human had smiled towards the one armed human.

Then he started to sing a happy little tune, pointing his sword at the Hlutur.

From yelling to screaming, the boy was taught, from old man who years has fought.

In damp little cave, old as the start. Boy was kept, hidden in the dark.

As years went by, the boy became man. Fighting harder, faster. Impressing the old man.

With age, came longing. The boy sought freedom.

But happiness he found.

The past is fickle, memories once bad, turning good with age.

And the boy thought to himself.

Damn, I miss that damp old cave.

Jake lay there beside the old guy, holding the kid in a one armed embrace. He looked up at the old guy, seeing the sword glowing in his hand. A wide smile plastered on the old guy’s face, looking down at Jake. But Jake couldn’t focus on the old guy, for he was staring dumbfounded at the shining sword. Shining like a thousand suns. But yet, wasn’t hurting Jake. No, rather, it was quite pleasant. It felt like a warm summers day, washing all of his sorrows away.

The old guy looked away from Jake, swinging the sword in a practised motion, looking at the bear. Jake followed his eyes, seeing the bear, seeing it fearful.

Jake wasn’t scared anymore. He felt safe.

The bear roared pain, taking a big step back, closing its sizzling eyes.

Then it roared in defiance, screaming loud curses as it charged towards the old guy.

The old guy just smiled wider, taking several steps to the side.

The bear reorientated itself, following the blinding and painful light.

The old guy stopped, his back against a tree, but not looking the least perturbed. For he already knew where it was.

And as the bear got dangerously close, the old man swung his sword with ease, using his only good arm while dodging to graciously to the side.

The bear noticed the light moving away, clawing at it, missing spectacularly. Suddenly finding itself ramming full speed into the tree that the old man had just stood in front of.

Splinters and chunks of wood flying everywhere, almost immediately disintegrating the tree as it fell down on top of the bear.

Before it had even realised that a tree was on top of it, and that one of its legs where missing, spewing blue blood. The old man had moved again, using one swift slash to easily cut off its head from the rest of its body. Falling down with a wet thud.

Jake had a hard time figuring out what had just happened, he felt as if everything was watched through a haze, like a dream. As if nothing he felt right now was actually real.

He couldn’t believe what had happened, what the old guy had done, what he had done, that his long quest was finally over.

He started thinking, wondering what he would do now, now that his long self-imposed mission was over.

He felt a small part of him questioning everything, denying everything.

He felt that he should be fearful, that he should worry, that this old guy wasn’t to be trusted. That this was out of his league. That he should run home and hide.

But you know what.

Jake didn’t care at the moment.

He felt that everything would be all right.

And you should too.