The path to the keep was a trial in itself. Snaking through the dark and oppressive forest canopy, the route lost the overhead sunlight for a decent portion of the incline. During this particular part of the ascent the faint sounds of creatures just within the tree line gave off an eerie ambiance. Cracking branches and crunching leaves filled the air from sources just outside of sight. Oddly enough there appeared to not be a single sole on the route. His first steps towards the Scar were in isolation and started to condition him for the environment to come. While he was definitely nervous at multiple parts of his ascent, Kieren made it through the prelude without much issue.
Upon arriving at the front gates he was greeted by a few guards and escorted into the keep proper by two. The guards were clad in a mixture of dark leathers and dark blue plates. The armor was clearly more adapted to movement as evident by the stark lack of excess plates and odd inclusions like the leather coat tails that shielded the rear of the lower body. While the armor was clearly a uniform, none of the guards he met seemed to have the same weapon. One of the guards that took him had a spear while the other held a smaller sized ax. The weapon designs were also starkly different from each other, adding a welcome bit of originality to the uniform.
The interior of the keep was stunning. Wooden wall supports with various ornate wall mounted lights and metal trim all over an elaborate and ornate tiled floor. After a few winding halls they escorted the boy through an oversized set of two dark wooden doors and into a large room lined with bookshelves save for the far wall. The far wall had been entirely replaced with an outdoor balcony with multiple strung up crimson curtains around the support beams that gently blew in the crisp breeze. The guards gave the boy a thorough pat down before showing him to his seat across from an Overseer. One guard gave a nod to the Overseer, who returned a smirk and a small shake of his head. At the signal the two guards gave a bow and then took their leave. “Kieren Albho, 171 centimeter-” The grizzled man from behind the room’s beautifully carved central desk spoke. He raised an eye to scan over the boy before looking back to the file. “Athletic build. No allergies and no phobias.” He gave a soft chuckle as he made adjustments to the papers with an ink pen before thumbing through the rest of the sheets. “And a clean bill of health. Good good.” He closed the file and crossed his arms over his desk. “Alright son, tell me, how much of this place did your old man tell you?”
“Not much sir. He was pretty tight lipped about it.”
“Tight lipped, Killian?” He gave a sincere tone of confusion. “You sure?”
Kieren tilted his head slightly. “Sure am sir. He wouldn’t even tell me what kind of animals lived in it. Just took me hunting with some vague guidance.”
“Of all the things to suddenly be secretive about…” He muttered before giving a chuckle and continuing. “First off, no need for formalities. Just relax.” Kieren let out a small breath and the man continued. “As you know this is the Devils Scar, the Pilgrimage site for potential Fianna members. If you make it out in one piece you may be invited to join.” He paused for a moment before repeating: “If you make it out.”
“Is death that common?”
“Sadly, it is. The numbers fluctuate by the year, but the current average is one of every five will make it to their three year mark. Speaking of which…” The man opened a drawer and pulled out what looked to be a book of sorts and placed it in front of Kieren. “You are unable to leave until your eighteenth birthday, or three years from your start. However,” He smirked. “If you slay any of the creatures marked with a black crown in that book during your second year, you will be eligible for an early release.”
“So there are two ways out?” Kieren took the book with a smirk. “Options are good. Do I have to figure out how to get the body back here if I do take one down?”
“Back when I did this you sure did. Nowadays it’s a bit different. The answer to that question will be in the pack provided to you before you enter. As for your first question-” With an adjustment to his arms he pulled another item from his desk and showed it to the boy. It was an oddly ornate coin roughly 35 millimeters in diameter. The coin sported multiple layers of complex smithing around a flat hollow core with three holes in a curved line and connected by a thin glass tube. Kieren cocked his head. “Hold out your hand.” As Kieren did the Overseer took the boy's finger and poked it with a pin and allowed a few drops of the boy’s blood into a glass lined ring within the coin. The motion was clearly rehearsed as it happened faster than Kieren could even process. Pulling the coin back the Overseer shook it a few times and watched as the blood turned into a shiny metallic white. “Interesting…” He muttered with a smirk before flipping the coin through the air at the boy. “That right there is both your key and the third way out.” Kieren caught the coin. “First and foremost you cannot leave the Scar without it. Think of it as an identification tag. And if you just so happen to collect 30, regardless of time spent inside, you may immediately be released from the Scar.” Kieren blinked a bit while looking at the coin before the realization loomed over him like an ominous abyss. “Considering who raised you, I don’t believe I need to tell you dirty details.”
Kieren gulped before pushing the coin deep into his pocket. “And if people try to leave without meeting one of those three conditions?”
“The Scars Guard are permitted and encouraged to use lethal force on anyone attempting to vacate the premises. It’s far more common than we would like to admit, but we don’t need those lot in the Fianna.” The Overseer couldn’t help but show a sigh. “You’re forced to survive against man and nature. It’s enough to drive plenty to their breaking point. And once you’re in, there’s no turning back. But before we send you off, do you have any questions?”
Kieren took in a deep breath before responding. “Just one, really.” He already knew the stakes of coming here and being reminded of them now wouldn’t shake him.
“And what would that be?”
“What are the rules?”
“Survive.”
“That’s it?”
“And don’t try and escape, I guess. Everything else is on the table.” Kieren's eyes narrowed a moment before a small sigh left his lips. “Anything else?” The Overseer asked.
“No, that’s all.”
The Overseer clapped his hands and stood up. “Red, Black, White, or Blue? We let you pick the color of the pack we give you.”
Kieren turned his attention to the outdoor balcony. It was the middle of winter and while he didn’t know the region, he would expect it to snow at some point. Even if it didn’t, white would be easy to stain another color for camouflage when it warmed up. “White.”
“Good choice.” The man took a white backpack from a drawer beneath a bookcase and walked back to the table. “There are few useful items in here to get you through the first few days until you get your bearings. When you think you’re safe, give it a look.”
Kieren took the bag and opened it just wide enough to put the journal in before closing it. He thought of dropping the coin in it but opted to keep it especially close to him. His pocket would have to do for now until he found a more ideal solution. “Thank you.”
“Are you ready?” Kieren gave a nod. “I’m going to ask you a final time, make sure you speak your answer clearly. There is no going back after this one. But first, follow me.” He led the boy to the back of the room and onto the outdoor balcony. The Scar in all its majestic beauty was on full display from the outdoor overhang. Looking down Kieren felt a hint of sickness from the looming 7,000 plus foot drop they now stood over. Largely left untouched save for the youths on their pilgrimage, the lush and gorgeous terrain with its forests, scattered micro mountains, and the weaving rivers before him left the boy speechless. The grizzled man placed a hand on the banister and turned to his newest guest. “Kieren Albho, are you reading to begin your 3 year Pilgrimage?”
“Yes.” The boy answered without so much as a single ounce of hesitation as he turned to the Overseer. “Yes I am.”
The older man shot the boy a smile. “Good answer.” He gave Kieren a pat on the shoulder and allowed the boy to return the smile before he flung open the hidden banister door. “Don’t disappoint.” He smirked while pushing the boy off the balcony.
Kieren's eyes widened as the initial second of his sudden loss of footing registered. While confusion was the initial feeling that hit him, it was quickly ousted as a deeply confused fusion of panic and excitement flooded into his mind. He immediately shot his arms and legs out to reduce drag on his body while his eyes quickly scanned the rapidly approaching ground. The lake below him was the obvious point of landing, but he would have to reduce his speed before impact. Along with that was the fear of his bag getting wet. He had no way of knowing how much of it would be damaged beyond repair if it did. His eyes trained on a lakeside with the densest foliage and threw his bag in that direction. There weren’t many options this high up, and he would have chance it to gravity rather than water. He watched it for a second to record its trajectory and then turned his full attention to ending his freefall.
Adjusting his arms and pitching his body, he neared closer to the cliffside and readied himself- this was about to hurt like hell. He pulled a knife he had hidden from beneath his billowing shirt, flourished it into a reverse grip, steeled his resolve and then thrust the blade into the cliffside. The initial yank of his arm and shoulder was excruciating but he was able to avoid anything worse by slamming the toes of his boots into the rocks and grabbing the pommel of the knife with his left hand. The soles of his boots quickly began to warm from the friction, but he was slowing. He skidded like this for a good few seconds before taking a deep breath and kicking off the cliff. With a knife in hand he speared deep into the waters below like a spear at a painful, but overall safe speed.
Kieren momentarily lost consciousness but quickly regained himself and opened his eyes. The waters were slightly dark due to the depth but overall crystal clear. That strikingly high visibility allowed him to catch a glimpse of something tangled into a long vine of seaweed: a skull. He shot his gaze around the lake and fought a sickening feeling in his stomach. Beneath layers of coral and aquatic foliage, were the distinct shapes of numerous skeletons. Many had thought of the same approach as he did, but likely hit the waters far too fast. What he floated in was no victory, it was an underwater graveyard he had only luckily been able to avoid joining.
“Not bad.” The Overseer let out a relieved sigh while shutting the hidden door. He turned and walked back into the room, accompanied by the sound of the door opening. “For someone who didn’t tell him anything, you’re surprisingly clingy. Aren’t you, Killian?” He shot the cloaked man a smirk.
“How’d he do?”
“Passed with flying colors. Was the knife your idea?”
“Not in the slightest, I just gave him a gift. Where’d he hide it?”
“Between his shirt and pants, not the best but far from the worst.”
Killian let out a chuckle “That sounds like him. I’m surprised you let him keep it.”
“He didn’t seem like the kind of kid to go for the throat, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Really? Sounds like you’re going soft.”
“Hardly.” He turned to look out the balcony. “We have some worrisome ones down there right now-” he paused to look back at Killian. “If letting him keep a knife keeps me from having to turn the Guard against you later on because of some freak accident, I’ll make that deal.”
A smirk formed across the fathers features followed by a soft chuckle.. “Like you lot could stop me. If that’s your logic, I’d say you made the right call.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.” The Overseer remarked to the first half of Killians statement before returning to his seat and gesturing at the chair Kieren was in a few moments ago. “Which brings me to a favor I need.”
Killian raised a brow. “A favor? Color me interested.” The man took the chair and rested his ankle on his knee. “If it’s me you need, you must be in a bind. We haven’t seen eye-to-eye that well since I made it out of there.”
“And you know damn well why. We’re still dealing with the mess you made.” He sighed. “But- you also know more about that place than most because of that stunt. So when I say this next part, I’m sure you’ll understand where I’m going immediately.” There was a brief spout of silence before he finished. The words out of his mouth were quiet but stern and rattled Killian to his core. The father lowered his head for a moment before looking up with eyes colder than ice.
“Where do I start?”
Kieren broke through the surface of the haunting waters. The air flowing into his lungs helped calm him from the initial panic he felt while below. He dove forward and paddled with his left arm in a bid to slowly make his way back to shore while still battling the images flooding his mind. He crawled onto the beach and fell onto his back with a relieved thud. His panting was still deep and heavy, but short of true gasps.
He never expected the first trial to begin immediately, or be as dangerous as it was. His initial thoughts on the Pilgrimage before coming here placed the survival of the initial 6 months as the biggest floodgate to success. Acclimation to survival and solitude would be what claimed most. At least that’s what he thought. But with what he had just gone though, it seemed the real floodgate was prior to your first true step into the Scar. He looked back up to the distant castle above and took in just how far he had plummeted before shooting a look at his right hand. The iron grip he had on his knife had caused the entire appendage to go numb. Peeling his own fingers away with his free hand he took his knife and gave a quick look over.
It was a rather impressive looking hunter's knife with a daunting twenty centimeter single tipped curved blade and a handle just slightly longer than the width of his hand. Instead of a standard pommel the knife instead had a hollow metal ring. The weapon was his savior and one he was incredibly grateful for. His inspection of the blade revealed no cracks or chips. A sigh of relief left his lips. “Good.” He told himself while using the hand that was still slowly regaining its feeling to fumble for the sheath that pressed uncomfortably between his belt and waist. Click. The blade snapped into its holster with a satisfying click.
Pushing himself off the ground Kieren took a look around him before making his way towards the region he expected his bag had landed. The wind could have made its actual point of impact anywhere but he felt he had a decent idea of its trajectory. A quick look over the shore showed no signs of the bag, giving him a bit of relief his efforts were foiled by the wind taking it into the waters anyway. He turned and looked over the treetops on the edge and let out a sign as it turned up nothing. “Time to get looking.” He muttered. With nowhere else to look he reluctantly made his way into the forest and began to slowly look for his bag.
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It took less than half an hour of careful searching but he eventually found it suspended by a branch he had accidentally passed a few times. The forest floor was rather tame. He had expected it to be far more jungle-like and thick with overgrowth, but it was far from that. Exposed veins of thick moss covered roots decorated most of the leaf cloaked floor while various mushrooms and small flowers sprouted through the fallen foliage and over the moss. He shook his head at his own inability to have found it the first pass and then began to climb the tree. The moss made the climb far too tedious, so he opted to use his knife to help his ascent. He leaped onto and off the trunk with aid from the knife and reached high to grab onto the branch with the pack, believing it to be sturdy enough to hold him. He was wrong. The branch snapped immediately and sent the boy plummeting back to the ground. In the split second he had, he threw his knife into another tree trunk to avoid potentially falling onto it and giving himself something else to worry about.
Kieren hit the ground on left shoulder, opting to rotate to this side before impacting to ensure his right side would be fine should he sprain or break something. Thankfully all he was dealt was shockingly strong pain. “Please, no more falling.” He pleaded while rolling onto his back. “I’ve had 2 too many today.” He spoke while pushing himself up. With a careful rotation of his shoulder he moved his left arm about to ensure it wasn’t damaged. After a few moments he let out a sigh of relief, stood up, and moved over the knife embedded in the nearby tree. With a strong tug he pulled it free and sheathed it once again.
He took a look around as he recalled the rules and goals of the Scar. His hand dove into his pockets and confirmed the coin was still present, giving him a slight sense of relief. He had failed to check after his initial fall and could have easily lost it in the water. The brief respite that relief gave him quickly faded. He had created a lot of noise with both of his falls, one of which was likely normal in this region of the Scar. If all newcomers were subject to it, it could very well be used as a hunting ground of sorts for people looking for easy coins. He hadn’t yet seen any animals either. That either added more evidence to the theory or was simply a result of all the noise he had made. No matter which it may have been, he was sure he needed to move further inland. He would need a fire for the night and wanted to be decently far away from his impact zone to avoid any unwanted guests. The backpack could hold something important, but the Overseer made sure to include “when you feel safe” in his direction. So he would wait until he had settled for the night. With a swing of the pack he mounted it onto his back and began his push deeper into the forest, attempting to cover his tracks with leaves as he did so.
The sun was starting to dip beneath the edge of the Scar’s far chasm wall. As it fell it cast a beautiful collage of cool colors across the sky. At this point Kieren had been moving for hours while ensuring his tracks were covered behind him. Yet despite his best efforts, he could feel the faint eyes of what he assumed were distant beasts- eyeing him through the winding forest floor. His stomach felt fine and with the reassurance of the Overseer's words regarding resources being in the pack, he felt steadfast in his decision to ignore them. The sound of a tussle with who knows what alone would be problematic, better yet the damage he would take while armed with only a knife and no knowledge. His initial time in the Scar would be a marathon, not a sprint. Rushing in would only cause him issues.
After another hour or so of walking he arrived at a decently open part of the forest. With a smile he gave it a thorough inspection. There were no signs of previous campfires or belongings. Yet despite the lack of evidence, caution dictates he do a perimeter search of the surrounding tree line to ensure no one was hiding within the shadows. Once he was thoroughly satisfied, he cut off multiple smaller branches from the surrounding trees and began to construct the base of his fire. Joining the branches were mosses he had peeled from the trunks. While initially convinced he would have to light it by hand, he had a hunch one of the goodies in the bag might help.
Under the rapidly setting sun he opened the bag and quickly smirked at the sight of an exceedingly small box of matches. “Knew it.” He snickered as he retrieved them. Pulling one off Kieren struck and lit the match before lowering it to the kindling and watched as it took the flame. Twig after twig ignited and then spread to the emerald mosses before he began to toss in more fuel to keep the fire going and growing until he was happy with the size.
Kieren sat with his legs crossed and allowed the warmth of the flames to envelop him. Small in the grand scheme of things, but incredibly important at this moment. He took a quick inventory of his remaining matches: four. Ideally, he would conserve these for emergencies and just manually start them going forward. Putting the matches back into the pack he began to take an inventory of what he had. Five bars of tightly packed rations, two glass bottles of water, a compass, a frail looking knife, what looked like a small sewing kit, his remaining matches, various sheets of fabric including a large blanket, and the notebook he had put in himself. The backpacks contents, while seemingly unimpressive, were all incredibly useful. Pulling out one of the water bottles he gave it a knock and laughed to himself. “Glad the tree caught you.” He went to set the bottle down but was interrupted by the hairs on the back of his neck that stood as a rustle from the bush.
His finger dove through the knife loop and pulled it from its sheath and flourished it into his hand at blistering reaction speeds. The other hand slowly lowered the bottle back into the bag. He kept silent and allowed his eyes to peer back into the brush. Another second past and the faint sound of rustling sounded off again. From the brush a boy emerged and began to walk forward with his hands up. Kieren narrowed his eyes. “Fantastic, and on the first night.” He thought to himself in silence while eyeing the man over. He was rather tall and sported a rather rigid but strong frame. Dark skin with slightly messy dark black hair and a pair of earth brown eyes.
“I know you’re on edge, but I’m not here to fight yah.”
Kieren flourished his knife again and pointed it to the boy. “Oh I’m sure. Got a name?”
The boy gave a smile. “Grian. How about you?”
“Just Grian?”
The boy blinked a few times. “Oh, you must be new around here. Friendly piece of advice: keep the family name a secret.”
Kieren raised a brow. It was annoying that he accidentally gave a tip off that he was new, but a learning curve was to be expected. “Really? Odd, but sure. Then what brings you here, Grian?”
“Saw the smoke, followed the smell. Just happened to be in the area. We don’t get many visitors around here. So I-“
“We?” Kieren cut him off. He transitioned to spin the knife by its loop on his outstretched arm. He wouldn’t know if it would help, but displaying basic technique with a weapon might dissuade potential violence.
Grian’s eyes looked to the knife and then back to Kieren. “First time I’ve seen someone with something from outside. How’d you get it through?”
“Hid it in my pants.”
“Really?” Grian blinked. “That easy?”
“Didn’t even get brought up. I was pretty shocked myself.”
“Well then. Hopefully your pack didn’t have the knife then, that’d be a waste.”
“So they’re all different? Would have preferred a hammer myself.”
“Right? I got a small shovel.” Grian chuckled. “Here, I’ll help put you at ease.” The boy pointed to the coin tied around his neck by string. It looked exactly the same as Kieren but had a red glass core instead of Kieren’s white. “I just want to talk, you can hold this if you want.”
“Sounds a bit risky for you, but not for the ‘we’ you mentioned.”
Grian gave a faint smirk. “Do you know how few people actually pick up on that? Surprisingly few! They see the coin and get all antsy and suddenly-…” Kieren caught he knife and pointed the blade at him, his eyes stern and clearly showing a lack of interest. “Alright, alright. I’m alone. If yah don’t trust me I won’t blame yah. But I’m telling you the truth, I just want to talk.”
“Why?”
“You seem like you got a good head on your shoulders. If someone jumps at the coin, I usually wrap up the discussion and leave. All I want to do is chat.”
“Then take a seat. Let’s talk.” Kieren pointed the knife to the ground across the fire. Grian complied and moved across the ground and began to lower himself, taking note of Kieren rising to his feet as he did.
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Small stuff like that.” He grinned. “Tarbh’s gonna love yah.”
“Tarbh? He your boss?” Kieren held back the annoyance. He had thought moving inland would help him avoid an early confrontation, but that had badly backfired. Not only was he face to face with someone but was likely going to be on the radar of a group.
“He’s in charge, yeah. But, to alleviate some fears I know a little paranoid bugger like you has: I’m the only one that knows about you right now.” Grain smiled. “Use that as yah like.”
“Wonderful, then I won’t trust it.”
“Fine by me!” He shot back quickly. “Hopefully you won’t reject this next one: I’d like to take you to them.”
Kieren's mouth opened slightly as his expression contorted into one of disbelief at the absurd proposal. “Willingly walk into an unknown group's home and hope you guys just sit around a campfire eating stew? That’s absurd. No.”
“We do have stew every now and then, not bad either.” Grian retorted. “I get it, you’re new and understandably don’t trust me worth a damn. But, and this is a big one: what do yah got to lose?”
“Everything.”
“Can’t argue with that. But-!”
“You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”
Grian blinked a bit before smiling. “Yeah, I can be. At least give me the chance to give you a pitch?”
Kieren let out a sigh, holding back every desire to cross his arms. “Sure, why not.”
“It’s a small group of folks just trying to make it. There’s plenty of folks out here trying to pocket coins so Tarbh tried to get a few of us together to help dissuade any of the rogue types from poaching us. Y’know, safety in numbers.” Grian eyed the boy over a moment and felt a small sense of relief as he appeared to be actually hearing out his pitch. “If we find someone in the area, we go see if they’re worth their weight. If they are, we bring’em to Tarbh and he makes the final call.”
“Wouldn’t grouping up just make you all bigger targets? Not to mention advertising your location with failed tryouts.” Kieren spun his knife again. “I doubt a lot are willing to walk into a potential snake den on the premise of getting some easier grub.”
“It’s harder to raid a group than you’d think. Outside of outliers like yourself, folks out here don’t have fancy tools, unless they can make ‘em. Not to mention no one wants to team up with a potential backstabber. So it’d usually be a single guy trying his luck. Doesn’t end well for ‘em when it happens.” Grian waited for Kieren to catch the knife after another flourish before standing up. “You good at fighting or hunting? Or is that thing just for show?”
“Decent at both. Care to try out the first one?” Kieren shot him a smirk.
The two locked eyes for a tense moment before Grian let out a laugh. “Yeah, we’ll get along. C’mon, let’s get moving.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t agree.”
“You also didn’t say no. So I’d say we’re somewhere comfortably in the maybe range.”
Kieren offered a sigh. “Hate to burst your bubble, but the answer’s still no.”
“Seriously?” Grian tilted his head. “Well I don’t want to twist your arm, yet. Can I at least get that name you never told me?”
“Kieren.” Grian’s sudden pivot to giving up only put Kieren more on edge. “That all?”
Grian put out his hand. “For now, yeah. If I see you again, I’m going to ask.”
“And the answer’ll be the same.” Against his better judgment Kieren shook the boy's hand. The entire time he was expecting to be attacked, but Grian let go and gave a wave.
“I’ll whittle yah down. Mark my words.” After that the boy disappeared into the brush and then into the forest beyond. “Take care!” He shouted from the darkness.
Kieren immediately sheathed his knife, grabbed his pack, put out the fire, and dove into the brush behind him. There wouldn’t be a chance for a fireside rest tonight. He needed distance and to hide. The boy couldn’t feel any eyes on him as he sprinted through the forest floor, but he refused to put the worry to bed. Once he was a sufficient distance away, he climbed up a sturdy enough looking tree and rested on the divide of its trunk. It would take him hours to fall asleep. The constant worry of being attacked did wonders in keeping him awake and alert. The sudden meeting and the adrenaline its ending brought would slowly fade in the calming ambiance of bug and bird calls. Eventually he relaxed enough to drift off into an uncomfortable sleep, marking the true end to the first night in the Scar.
And yet, under the magnificent sea of stars, a branch from a nearby tree creaked. Before the monstrous shadow was a young man who had, only moments ago, drifted into slumber. The enigma made its way quietly from the treetops to the boy. Its hand curled around the branch Kieren’s back rested against before leaning in. Unbeknownst to the boy, this shadow was close enough to feel his breath against its flesh, and its feature bore a shallow smirk.
Grian stretched his arms high into the sky as he walked back into the group's base of operations. The encampment itself was on a riverbank and fashioned from beast pelts arranged and hung to create a few makeshift tents all around a large fire pit in the center. The sun was rising and with it came a faint fog along the ground. A few people were up and about doing what appeared to be chores. One was at the riverbed casting a primitive looking fishing line into the waters. Another was cleaning the glass jars that were likely the group's backpack water bottles. And finally, a third was sharpening a spear tip with a jagged flint stone.
“Welcome back Grian, how’d it go?” The girl at the bottles asked. She stood at a modest height with long brown hair and elegant blue eyes.
“Rough. I found a good one though, but he wasn’t budging.”
“You found another one? What was he like?”
“Spinny.”
“Spinny? Like a top?”
“Liked to spin his knife, think he thought it’d spook me.”
“Not a bad idea.” A deeper voice came from a tent farther in. Pulling the pelt door open a tall man emerged. He was by no means a monster, but compared to the people around him, and even some of the adults of the Keep above, he was looming. His massive frame was tan, but not dark, with shoulder length black hair and hazel eyes. Obviously still within the age range of the Scar, though he looked physically out of place. “He said no?”
“Yeah. He seemed like a good guy though. Just a bit too prepared and cautious to want to join up with anyone yet. Unlike Mona over there.” Grian pointed with a smirk. “Can’t win ‘em all.”
“Hey!” She shouted back in protest.
The man gave a chuckle before raising a brow at Grian. “Did you at least get his name?”
“Yup, Kieren.”
“Oh that’s a pretty name!” Mona smiled. “I hope he had black hair.”
“Nah, he was a redhead.”
Mona frowned and returned to scrubbing. “Missed opportunity.”
“Did you at least meet him at night?” Grian nodded and the man gave a chuckle. “At least that fits. No worries, I’m sure we’ll run into him again. If anyone does, try not to scare him.” He shot Grian a smile. “You usually have a good nose for this sort of thing. If you say he’s good, he’s good.”
Grian turned to Mona with a smirk. “If I got that glutton to join us, I’m sure I’ll get him in no time.” The group continued their jovial exchange for a little while longer. This was the norm for them. They had managed to find a sense of peace and quiet in the midst of a trial that begged for chaos and strife. Another miracle of trust lining the Scars rather warped premise.
The warmth of the morning light cut through enough of the treeline to hit Kieren. He tried to shield his eyes a bit longer, but it proved useless against a strong shake of the tree and the howl of the cold winds. Despite only getting what felt like an hour of sleep the boy’s eyes opened to a new morning. A yawn escaped his lips and he went to stand, completely forgetting he had climbed a tree, and fell to the ground.
He rolled over and put the bag on his stomach, giving it a good pat to check if the bottles were still in one piece. He blinked and yawned again before repeating what he had told himself yesterday. “Please, no more falling. I beg you.”
Pushing himself off the ground he couldn’t help but feel something was off. He placed the bag onto the ground and took a look around. The frosted grass showed no signs of footsteps or disturbances. “No broken branches either.” He muttered as he scanned the area.
His eyes momentarily passed over it before shooting back to it in horror. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, only to slam his palm against his stomach. His hands flung his shirt free and took hold of the knife he had hidden, or at least, had believed he had hidden. His shaken vision lingered on the scabbard in his hand and then moved back to the trunk of the tree he had slept in. Resting deep in its bark was a knife, his knife, and the one he had pressed against his gut before he slept. But was more terrifying than his knife simply being in the tree, was what it was holding there.
Slowly staining the frosted grass crimson was the corpse of a wolf. He reached out and pressed his hand against the creature and confirmed his worst fear: it was still warm.
“This was what woke me up…”