Soooo here's the first chapter.. i had originally done both the prologue and chap 1 together but I needed to change a few things beforehand so... here it is.. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Seven years later

The rabbit scuttled off, hearing the sudden crack of a branch somewhere in the distance. It hoped to find refuge from whatever had caused the sound. No other rabbit could cause a sound as loud as that.

In the distance, Chris cursed himself softly for being careless. He knew that any prey within the vicinity would have been alerted to his presence and most likely would have run off. He had been hunting for six hours now with no success. It was well past midday and would be getting dark soon. He knew, though, it was due to his urgency to get some game that his hunting skills are at an all time low. Father would be most sorely displeased, he thought.

Game had been scarce, and whatever little game there was, he mostly scared them away. Some he lost track of, even after injuring his prey. He cursed himself softly again. Now wasn't a time for him to be feeling sorry for himself. In a few days, their supply of food would dwindle to nothing. His family was already rationing most of it. Even with the rationing of their food, the rest of it wouldn't even last them a week.

Never lose hope. His father's voice echoed in his head. It was something his father always told him when all seemed like a losing battle. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked the voice in his head. What haven't you done? Chris shook his head grimly. That had been the question that usually pulled him through the tough times he had when he was out hunting. But now it just seemed empty. He couldn't think straight. He was too worried about how his family would pull through the month.

He slipped his small hunting bow over his shoulder and then spinning on his heel, he trudged off to where he set the first of his snares, hoping he would at least have something to bring home. Much to his dismay, there had been something caught in his snare, but something or someone had taken it. He shot his head around in anger. He couldn't believe his luck. He'd been losing game all day and now he had it taken from him.

Chris moved to go and check the other snares hoping the same fate hadn't befallen them too, when something caught his eye. There was a movement. Very faint, but fairly visible in his peripheral. He scanned the immediate vicinity to see if it would show up again. There! He thought. He saw a figure dash off in the opposite direction through the corner of his eye. He shrugged the hunting bow off his shoulder and started off after whoever it was watching him. He knew he had to be home soon, but anger and curiosity got the better of him.

He knelt down to study the ground around the tree, but he couldn't see anything. At least he thought couldn't see anything. The ground was fresh with tracks that could have been spotted by the least of hunters. "Calm down, Chris," he told himself, "Nothing good will come out of rushing." He shook himself and inhaled deeply in an effort to calm his rage. Scanning the ground once more, he noticed a distinct trail of blood. Was the man hurt? Or was it game that had been snatched from his snares. Rage began to boil in his blood again. He closed his eyes and began to inhale deeply once more.

Setting his eyes on the trail, he trudged lightly, following the clear trail of blood. It seemed too easy. The man who did this is either waiting to ambush him somewhere along the trail, or he was just a plain scavenger looking to find what he could among the snares hunters set in the forest. As he tracked the man, it became clear that the trail the man left behind was obvious. Too obvious.

He glanced around the brush. If there was going to be an ambush, he was going to be ready for it. He didn't want to think about it, but he also did not want to let his guard down. Bandits had been frequent in the fief lately, preying on the weak to get whatever little they could come across. More so now than ever before. The war with the Scotti a few years back, caused many to resort to desperate actions. Norgate had been affected the worst, due to the sole fact that it had been the battleground against the Scotti. A lot of families had lost their fathers, causing the younger males to join bandit groups in order to survive. Chris decided against that when the offer came along. His dad always taught him to stand for what was right. The teaching had kept him from trouble so far and he knew that his father's teachings were sound.

Scanning the horizon for activity every second or so, he continued to pursue the thief. After rounding a bend in the trail that took him through the trees, he came into a small clearing, dotted by boulders and a small brook flowing through the middle. He followed the trail over a boulder and stopped suddenly when he saw where the trail would eventually end. A small shaggy horse, more like a pony, was grazing over to the side of the brook underneath a large boulder. It wasn't tethered down or restrained in anyway. It just stood there contentedly, as if it was waiting for its master to come back. What caught his attention, however, was the large sack under the horse. The sack slumped over to one side and was bloody. Very bloody. The stain of the blood on the sack was bright red indicating that whatever was in it had been freshly killed. A pool of blood oozed from underneath the sack joining to the drops of blood he had been tracking.

He dropped quickly off the boulder and hid himself in the shadow of another. Taking a quick glance around to see if anyone was there, he moved along the shadow's path, slipping into another, and then came to a stop five meters away from where the horse stood. As if sensing his presence, the shabby horse plodded away, leaving the bloodied sack behind. Chris' heart pounded in his chest. It seemed too easy. The trail of blood, the sack out in the open, the horse leaving the sack within reach; it couldn't be this easy. His eyes darted over the scene, frantically searching for some sign of an imminent attack. Calm yourself, he thought, I'll dash over, grab the sack, and make a bee-line for home.

Steeling himself into the moment, he burst out of his cover into the open. He reached the sack in record time, but when he turned to run, he slipped on the mud caused by the pool of blood from the sack. As he fell he heard the eerie hiss of an arrow zipping well over his head and thudding on the ground behind him. He scrambled away from the spot, dived behind the cover of another boulder and planted his back against it. He could hear his heart throbbing loudly against his chest. He had never been in a more dangerous situation as this. After seeing the large black shafted arrow rising out of the ground, his fear climbed high. He was too scared to step out from the cover of the boulder and into the sights of the unknown archer.

Inhaling deeply, he gathered enough courage to peer around the corner of the boulder to where the arrow had come from. A man in a mottled green and grey hooded cloak stood at the edge of the clearing next to the horse from before, staring in Chris' direction. He was equipped with a large crossbow and another arrow was already nocked on the bowstring Chris couldn't see the man's face. It was hidden underneath the shadow of the deep cowl of the cloak's hood which only served to set Chris' nerves on edge once more. For some reason, he couldn't pull himself back from staring at the figure in the distance. His curiosity had overridden his fear and his anxiety to pull back to safety. The man pulled the arrow off the bow and slipped it into the quiver slung on his shoulder. Slipping the bow on his shoulder, the man then stepped back into the shadows seeming to dissolve into them. In the blink of an eye, the man had disappeared along with the horse.

Chris slumped onto the ground and dropped his bow. He buried his face in his hands trying to rid the experience from his mind. He had been close to death and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving his mother and his younger siblings behind. He cried softly into his arms and decided to stay underneath the protection of the boulder for a little while longer.

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After he set and groomed the horse in the stables, Chris slumped through the door of their cabin with the sack of game and leaned his back against the wall. Gail jumped from her seat beside the fireplace and ran to embrace her son. She had been sick with worry since he had not come home at the time he usually would. Stepping back, she cupped Chris' face in her hands and turned it this way and that, looking for any evident signs of injury. Satisfied that there were none, other than a few small scratches, she pulled her hands down to his shoulders and stared deeply into her son's eyes.

"What happened, dear?" she asked as calmly as she could. But her voice was coloured with worry and tinged with sadness.

All Chris could do was look into her eyes and smile weakly. Tears began to from at the corner of his eyes as he threw his arms around his mother. He began to weep softly. He buried his face onto her shoulder and let go.

"Oh, my dear, dear boy," Gail cried, "you're home now, safe and sound."

Chris lifted his head off his mother's shoulder and brushed it lightly.

"I-I," he began, "I—"

"Come and eat first," Gail cut him off, "When you are thoroughly ready, you may tell me what passed in the woods today. Until then, eat and still your nerves. Mr. Faust noticed our plight and gave a share of his hunting today. It's been a while since you've been able to eat properly."

Chris nodded grimly, walked over to the dining table, and dropped weakly into a chair. He was grateful to be home, glad that death had spared him the fate of leaving his family behind.

Gail heated up the stew she made from the meat that Grant Faust, the local butcher, had provided for them. Spooning a large serving into a bowl, she set it on the table before Chris and sat down. Chris eyes bulged in surprise at the meal. He hadn't seen food like this since he caught that deer seven years ago. He began to wolf down the meal, temporarily forgetting the near-death experience he had in the woods. After helping himself to seconds, he pushed the empty bowl to the middle of the table and crossed his arms over the table.

Gail peered up from her knitting and looked across the table to him.

"So," she said softly, "what happened out there? I began to worry when you didn't return by four."

"I ran into bandits," he responded grimly.

His mother's eyes widened at the statement and opened the mouth to say something, but quickly closed it, content to let her son finish explaining.

"They took my catching from the snares and placed them in the sack over there by the wall." He pointed to the large sack that sat by the door. Gail now noticed the pungent fumes coming from the sack and held her breath.

"After that, they waited till I came to check on em', and then set off into the woods leaving a clear trail behind them for me to follow. I should have seen the signs. I should have known. But I couldn't bear to come home again with nothing. We weren't going to last a week with the food we had."

"Oh, my poor boy," Gail cooed. She placed her hands on his and stroked them lightly. "Fate has been kind to us today. Mr. Faust parted with a few of his hunt, and you have escaped to come home to us with more than we've had in years. There is no need to fret. Your father watches over us. There is still hope for us yet."

Chris looked up into his mother's smiling face and a warm glow of hope filled him. He resolved that he would not be brought down low again. Chris did not wish to see the hopeful glow of his mother to fade away. He smiled weakly.

"Where are the twins?" he asked

"They are already in bed," Gail replied, "Darien wanted to stay up till you came home, though. He looks up to you, you know. So you cannot under any circumstances lose hope."

Gail gave him a stern look and Chris smiled. He knew this was one of her ways to keep the spirits of her children high.

She stood up from her chair and waved her hand in front of her nose.

"My goodness, that reeks," she said walking over to the game sack, "I'm going to clean these and salt them before they rot. We can't let a good bunch like this go to waste."

Before she could lift the sack, Chris stepped over and hefted the heavy sack onto the kitchen bench. Gail smiled sweetly at her son and pulled the first rabbit out of the sack.

"Thank you, dear," she said, "Wash up, and then help me out here. There's a lot more than I realized."

Chris peered into the sack and saw that his mother was telling the truth. There were at least ten good sized hares all compressed to the bottom and a few squirrels stuck out between them. He pulled his boots of and started for his room. Gail set the hare onto the bench and move to go outside and fetch a pail of water to wash the game with. She had barely stepped outside when she peeked her head back through the doorway.

"Oh, Chris dear," she called.

"Yes, mom?" he responded.

"Before I forget, a message came in today for you from Castle Macindaw. It's on the coffee table by fireplace."

"A message? From Castle Macindaw?"

"Yes, dear. Believe me; I was as surprised as you are now. What the message contains, I have no idea. I hope you're not in any trouble."

Gail stared intently at him. Chris noticed that she was waiting to hear what the message contained. He picked up the folded message on the table and broke the seal. Chris' eyes widened as he read the content of the message.

"Well?" Gail asked. Her curiosity was piqued, and looking at her son's stunned face did not help to ease it.

"All orphans from the Battle of Norgate have been made eligible to take part in Choosing Day."

soo hope you enjoy it so far, pleaaase... READ and REVIEW.. I'm starving for it.. ^^