Novels2Search
The God of the Grove
Chapter 1: Where Dreams Are Born? || Part 1

Chapter 1: Where Dreams Are Born? || Part 1

The events of the previous night left more than one person sleepless; the creature of the grove had paid them a visit. Although it wasn't the only one inhabiting the dark forest, none had dared to come so close before.

It was still very early; the smell of freshly baked morning bread still filled every house, but the villagers were already gathering in their favorite inn, the only one in the Village of Cepir, which also served as a tavern.

They couldn't let the creature's actions go unpunished; they felt increasingly unsafe. One day, it would break into the village, and what would they do then?

The grove was not safe, although it had never really been. This was just one of the many presences that inhabited it.

The commotion inside the inn could be heard even from outside. A good crowd was already inside, everyone debating what they should do about the being. The hall was spacious, with a thick pillar of red wood, like all the wood in the village, serving as the main support. Around it, the tables were arranged, all occupied.

A young woman with long golden hair styled in two thin braids tied at the back of her head moved from one side to the other, quickly attending to different customers.

"I don't understand what the problem is; he hasn't done anything yet," interrupted the young woman, brusquely placing a couple of wooden mugs in front of two robust men sitting at one of the tables discussing the matter at hand.

The girl crossed her arms, observing them accusatorily, waiting for a response. The men grabbed their mugs and looked at each other for a moment before breaking into loud laughter.

"You're very funny, Mana," said one of the men between laughs before taking a large swig from his mug.

Mana growled, "I don't see what's so funny."

"He's a deity, girl," replied the same man after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while the other spat on the inn floor at his words. "It's only a matter of time before he attacks us like the rest of his kind."

Mana was about to protest when someone roughly threw an arm over her shoulders, causing her to stumble forward. She growled, knowing who it was; she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"He's a creature..." the person corrected after clearing his throat to get attention, "and it's our duty to eliminate creatures," he boasted proudly.

Mana made a mocking face, imitating him. She quickly turned around and pushed him forcefully to get him off her. She lowered her arms and clenched her fists in anger as she headed towards the bar. "Your duty or your fun?" Mana questioned irritably as she walked away.

The man made the same mocking gesture she did. "Bring us a couple of beers to the back," he shouted so she could hear over the noise.

"Why don't you bring them yourself?" Mana protested almost immediately without stopping.

The men still sitting at the table burst into laughter. "It's obvious she's your daughter," one of them remarked, amused.

"Who, Mana?" Now it was his turn to laugh heartily. "She doesn't look anything like me; I'd say she looks more like Elia when she was young."

---

Mana arrived at the bar, annoyed. Her mother, who was preparing some drinks, noticed it easily; she wasn't very good at hiding her emotions.

"What's wrong, Mana?" Elia asked with a tender smile.

The girl pouted and crossed her arms. "The fool of my father insists on talking nonsense," she replied, somewhat irritated.

Elia brought a fist to her mouth and let out a small, delicate laugh.

"Don't be so hard on him; you know he doesn't handle alcohol well."

Elia began placing a large number of mugs on the bar, and Mana started grouping them for each of her hands. "Yeah, but that's no excuse. Today, everyone is excited about last night as if he did something wrong..." she paused briefly before continuing in a quiet voice, "...they're crucifying him just for who he is."

Elia narrowed her eyes as she finished placing all the mugs. "And how do you know that?" she commented, only half-joking.

The girl hurried to grab all the mugs and fled, embarrassed, while her mother pierced her with her gaze. Her parents had forbidden her to go out, but she couldn't resist.

---

Mana's father had returned with his friends to the right of the bar, where there were some long tables for larger groups, this one specifically for twelve, and he stood in front of them.

"I saw him last night; he was different from anything we've ever hunted," said one of them nervously in the left corner.

The man next to him, a burly man with a big belly, threw an arm behind his shoulders and pressed his face against his companion's. "And you managed not to shit yourself? That's quite an achievement for you, Levanor," he concluded with a loud laugh while drinking from his mug, the yellow liquid spilling into his thick reddish beard.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Levanor tried to push his companion's face away with one hand while he resisted. "Laugh all you want, Oleg, but I'm telling you, we shouldn't take it lightly."

"It's definitely not like the other prey," added the one next to Oleg, on his right, a more serious man with his arms crossed. His hair was covered by a black cloth, and two long ribbons fell over his back.

"Oh no, Vailor, not you too," protested Oleg as Levanor forcefully pushed him away.

"That doesn't matter," Mana's father declared, slamming his open hands on the table with force and a broad smile on his face. "We'll hunt it down anyway." Mana then pushed him from the left side, removing him from the front of the table and taking all the attention away from his companions. Her father growled, and the girl raised her chin proudly, pouting.

"Do you want to keep listening to him? Or..." she slightly raised her arms, signaling for them to see what she was carrying in her hands, eleven mugs of the best beer in the village, the one they served at their inn. "Do you want to drink?"

It was impressive how she held them all at once. She had been helping her mother in the inn since she was very young, and carrying a large number was easy for her. She placed them on the table without spilling a drop.

"If you think you can bribe them with your dirty tricks, you're very wrong..." They didn't even let him finish, and everyone was already grabbing their mugs.

"Traitors," he accused, placing a hand on his chest and pretending to be hurt.

"Nothing can compete with a good mug of beer, Aiacos," commented the one right in front of him on the other side of the table.

Everyone nodded in unison, and Aiacos crossed his arms, looking to his right and pouting like a child. He was an older man, 44 years old, but his personality could sometimes be a bit childish.

"I suppose you at least brought one for me," Aiacos said, somewhat annoyed.

"You're wrong. I brought one for whoever wants to shoot an arrow into your chest," Mana clarified with a dangerous gleam in her turquoise eyes, soft and delicate like the northern lights, and a smile full of malice.

Aiacos felt a shiver run down his spine, and he returned his gaze to the table slowly. Two of them had drawn their bows and had them ready to release at him.

"I bet I can hit him before you, Eric," challenged a dark-haired young man sitting to Aiacos' right.

"It's not fair, brother, you're closer," protested another boy resembling him on his side without losing concentration.

Aiacos raised his arms in a gesture of peace while Mana smiled satisfied. She handed the jug to the brothers and poured its contents into theirs.

Both lowered their bows, and Aiacos grumbled as he saw that everyone had their drinks except him. He relaxed his expression and placed a hand on his abdomen to laugh out loud, and everyone quickly followed suit.

They were a very close-knit group; they had been hunting together for many years, practically family. Aiacos trusted each of them blindly, and they trusted him.

Aiacos became serious, capturing the attention of all his companions once again.

"Let's hunt the creature," he announced with a smile. There was not a hint of doubt or fear in his words.

Mana raised her eyebrows upon hearing him as she clenched one of her fists to contain the anger that bubbled within her.

Everyone fell silent for a moment, and Mana gave them a look, expecting their reactions. The collective war cry they emitted caught the attention of everyone in the inn.

"It was time for someone to claim his head," cheered Oleg.

"It won't be easy," added Vailor.

"Surely not," agreed Aiacos amused.

Mana knew it would happen sooner or later. She had been annoyed with him for several days because of his arrogant attitude; she couldn't contain herself anymore and exploded against her father. She leaned forward with her hands behind her, clenching her fists, and Aiacos took a step back.

"I didn't see you so brave when he approached the village last night. Why didn't you kill him then if you think you're so capable?"

Aiacos put his hands on his hips and made a grimace as if it were obvious.

"That wouldn't have been any fun, Mana."

For him, hunting was something sacred, immersing himself in the forest while hunting his prey, pushing all his senses to the limit; that feeling was simply indescribable. Attacking the creature in the middle of the village was not at all interesting.

"Come on, Igro, tell me you don't think this is a good idea. You're the most sensible one in this group of drunks," Mana addressed irritably to a slim, athletic-looking young man who was sitting quietly in the back, not standing out much, with his back straight and his arms crossed. Unlike the rest of the group, Igro didn't drink beer but a malt drink prepared by Elia herself, his favorite. He was 26 years old, with light brown hair tied up in a high bun, and a tiny braid fell on the right side of his face. As was customary in Cepir, those with long hair wore it elaborately, with at least one braid, even the men.

"I'm sorry, Mana, but I'll always follow Aiacos, no matter where he goes," Igro declared without hesitation, looking at her with those steely gray eyes and a friendly smile.

Aiacos gave Igro a proud look and smiled satisfactorily at his response.

Mana couldn't find words to counterattack and sighed exasperatedly. "Do whatever you want; I don't want to know," she hurried away full of anger.

Aiacos watched her leave with a sad gleam in his eyes, identical to his daughter's. He didn't like that they were so different in some aspects; she didn't understand him or accept his tastes or lifestyle.

"So, when will we do it?" Vailor leaned on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on his hands with a serious expression.

Aiacos returned his gaze to the table, and before he could even respond, they were overwhelmed by some villagers who had heard them and approached to check what they were talking about. It was time for someone to do something, and who better than the group of the most capable hunters in the Village of Cepir.

The hunters of Cepir had the reputation of being the best on the entire Island of Kesh, and this particular group was the elite, the best of the best. They were used to hunting all kinds of creatures, even in the dark forest, although never at night.

"I guess we should announce it officially."

Aiacos and his group moved to the center of the inn to tell everyone present what they planned to do. Now a whole crowd surrounded them, their hunting companions standing around a table where he was.

Mana watched alongside her mother, leaning against the bar, with her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Elia glanced at her. She knew why she was like that; she hated that her father went hunting and didn't share her love for taking the lives of other living beings. And although she supported him, she understood her daughter's attitude.

She looked back to where her husband was.

The villagers began to grow impatient and told Aiacos to say it already; he had everyone on edge. Aiacos drew the sword at his belt and raised it.

"We will give death to the creature of the woods," he declared fiercely.

Exclamations of excitement spread quickly throughout the inn.

"Can they really do it?" someone questioned excitedly from the crowd.

One of the hunters raised his voice for them to hear him and shrugged.

"If we can't, no one can."

"Well said, Rilas," nodded Aiacos with a smile.

The rest of his companions, except Igro, exclaimed a war cry that infected all the villagers, filling them with confidence. It was true; they were the best hunters in the village. If they couldn't do it, perhaps no one could.