The Prophecy of Falcons
When the Dragons rule the skies
and the Earth is scorched in flame
look to the mountains of Niër;
a Falconer's fate is foretold.
One in one hundred
out of all the Falconers.
One will save the day;
a Falconer's fate is foretold.
When Alcrêa is overthrown
and the Giants walk the Earth
look to the mountains of Niër;
a Falconer's fate is foretold.
Mason silently crept through the forest, his bow half drawn. The leather boots he wore made no sound on the grass underfoot. He was protected from the cold by a fur cloak, though it was not cold on that day. There was only a gentle breeze.
His ears picked up a soft sound. He slowly turned his bearded head to see his target: a cow grazed on the grass in a small clearing. Mentally, he apologized for having to kill the gentle creature. He slowly drew his bow, moved it slightly, and released the bowstring. The cow didn't know what had hit it; the arrow struck its heart, killing it instantly. It fell to the ground with a thud, and Mason pulled out his iron sword. He quickly skinned the cow and took its leather, and then cut out as much meat as he could, putting it into his hunting bag. He then dug a small hole and buried the dead animal. In his eyes, it was unacceptable to leave an animal who gave its life for him out in the open to be eaten by wolves. He silently thanked the cow for its meat, and then stood and left the clearing.
The sun was setting by the time Mason reached his house. It was a simple log cabin built in the center of a large clearing. A small stream ran by it, uncrossed by any bridges. Mason pushed open the door to his home and walked in as the door swung shut behind him. He threw the meat in his furnace, where it began to cook immediately. Coal was always kept ready in it. He stored the leather in his double chest and hopped into bed.