Chapter 2 - The Attack
"A plesoith – or rather, one in it's early stages of growth. It is good you brought it to my home, and did not cast it away." The hunter lifted the tiny creatures limp head with his finger, before opening the jaws and inspecting inside the head. "Perhaps only two weeks old. This is unusual. They would not willingly leave the warm currents of the desserts and jungles. I have never heard of such a thing."
Hunter Graye was the village's hunter, and had been for twenty five years, when he had been but a youth. Ever since he had been assigned the role, he had lived in one of the villages three mansions, a luxurious, two storied affair with four rooms with a complimentary team of chefs. He scratched at his beard, a beard that was slowly beginning to streak with grey, before he sat down in his chair and slipped into a thoughtful gaze. The man was not growing senile, far from it in fact – but he was showing his age, nearly fifty, and was known for his love of spirits just as much as his hunting skills. The village Elder stood up now and began to inspect the creature herself. "What could this mean, Edori?" she asked wistfully, looking over at the aged hunter who was now feeding the crackling fire more wood. "A change in the creatures habitat, perhaps?"
"A change, indeed, ma'am, although what of is the question. Nourishment would seem the most likely, but what could be causing a lack of food, I have not heard of anything. Although…"
Idias piped up, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Last night… I… I overheard some of the travellers talking about the amount of attacks of monsters has been increasing. One man said that he had lost two of his animals in a week to trails on the way here that were usually peaceful. He said that it was no longer safe to travel the forests without a proper protection."
"Indeed, if my memory permits me last night, I am sure the conversation strayed onto the thriving trade of the hunt. I did not think much into it, as we have had not had any unusual activity north in the past month as far as I can tell. That is to say, of course, that I have been but twice out this season and only to ease the amount of giaprey in the area." Graye leaned back in his chair and rapped his knuckle on the hard wooden armrest. "I shall have to send messages out with the next trade. Aye that I will."
"Yes, that is a good idea." The village Elder tapped her short cane against the wooden table leg quetly. "Ah, young master Ymeti," she said, looking at Rion, and smiling warmly. "You are to finish school soon, are you not?"
Rion was fourteen, and was soon to turn fifteen, an age where he would choose his future. Long had he pondered over this with his mother. Most boys would have followed in their father's footsteps, but after the accident, his mother had been hesitant for him to go anywhere near the mines. No, he had somewhat decided what he was going to do. "Yes ma'am. Not four months today."
"And you will work in the mines will you – no, you won't. You will not, or are not permitted to do so."
Rion looked uneasy until she smiled and said, "but there are many other occupations we need filled, and I'm sure you have nearly made up your mind." Rion responded to the implied question, "Yes, ma'am. I wish to become a scholar, ma'am, and study in the universities of the Lowlands. An astronomer – to study the heavens, ma'am."
"A scholar you say!" Graye almost roared with laughter. "I have never met a lower people! They waste their days away reading and learning of things that are of no help to anyone. Indeed, while we risk our lives killing they huddle in their rooms with but candlelight, a quill and some parchment, and say they are doing us good. Pah!"
"Now, now, Edori, if the boy wishes to study, then that is his choice… however I – "
A sharp cry sounded from outside the house and a bell sounded three times. Moments later, the light buzz of noise from the markets grew silent as the last door creaked shut and the village of Pokke became quite, desolate to the eye, but with each soul cowering within their homes.
Hunter Graye was up and clipping on his sword wordlessly. His rough fingers gripped the buckles of his armour and pulled them tight, the leather creaking in protest but the metals clinking in encouragement. His boots were donned, as was his helmet (to which he adjusted carefully) then he went to the door and opened it so a tiny slit of light fell across the floor and highlighted the dust that floated about. The man's arm was trembling ever so slightly as he gazed out, but his face was hidden and his other hand lay gripping on the sword handle above his head.
Rion could only remember of this happening once as a very small child of five, and was surprised he did. He was huddled in his mother's bosom, unknowing of what was happening at the time but that he was to stay very quiet and hold daddy's hand. It was only after that he had learnt that a creature had been spotted flying about the mountains further to the east. Only after a period of hours had passed that the bell sounded twice – that all was clear – and people began to leave their homes, if not somewhat hesitantly, and the day had continued. Idias looked nervous and was rubbing his palms on his trouser legs.
A rhythmic beating like a drum grew louder and louder until it seemed the house was vibrating with each stroke. The village Elder looked as calm as ever and hobbled over Idias, who was now sweating profusely, and offered him a kerchief. He took it and wiped his forehead and then gazed up at the roof as though he could see between the beams and thatching. Rion swallowed drily then stood up and quietly walked to the old hunter who was now breathing quickly. Each of his gasps whistled through the helm, and his hand snapped out and gripped Rion's jacket collar to brought him close, gesturing for silence. He moved carefully aside and let Rion peer through the gap.
The great beast was silhouetted against the sun. Each beat of its mighty wings sent dust scattering and it landed with such grace and elegance that Rion had ever witnessed. Rion only caught a quick glance before he was pulled aside roughly and the door shut. The hunter stood still, unsure what to do. The guards had remained quiet so far, but from where they were he would be unable to signal them without alerting the beast. He had not faced such a beast for long years, and he cursed himself for reacting like such a coward. And yet deep down, he knew the fear would take over quickly if he did not do something to occupy his mind. He had seen it many times in boys who had such egos, such ignorance and who believed they could face anything. But they fled at the first sign of any real danger. He had never faced such an adversary, and it had been long winters since his last great battle had been truly fought. This beast was to him a myth, one he had seen only once before…
A huge crash and a sudden roar echoed about the village. The rat-ta-tat of the snare rolled on quickly and sharply but was drowned out under the battle cheers and thunder of feet. Not moments later, there was the twang of bowstrings, the hiss of arrows and of swords against scabbards, the scrape of metal on hide, and the blood-curdling screams of those fallen. Hunter Graye trembled and Rion looked on in horror as the men turned his face and let out a sob. Idias was now huddled up in the corner of the room shaking violently, the village Elder still wiping at his forehead. Rion's throat was dry but he was inwardly furious. "Go! The men are dying! Our village is being destroyed, and yet you tremble here crying! You are no village protector! You deserve no title of hunter. You are a coward!" He screamed the last words, and then suddenly the great figure of Edori Graye was looming above him, and he received a sharp strike in the cheek with a gloved hand.
The door swung open and the din of outside amplified, before they settled back with a thud. A hoarse cry shouted out and the rasp of metal on hide followed shortly. Another crash and thud sounded out with the tangent of a scream. The cries of the creature were getting more frequent and louder in rage, and screams rolled up from the second level. The shrieks of the soldiers, both still fighting and those who were wounded haunted the village. Even the air felt rancid and bloody.
Abruptly the battle fell silent, all but the groans of the wounded and the slow rhythmic chew of gnashing teeth, feasting on the still half-living men who gurgled out their last cries before being torn apart.
Rion went to the door, his hands shaking copiously and his face dripping with cold sweat. He pulled down on the latch the bolt gave way, and soon he was staring out into a field of blood and destruction. But his eyes lingered not on devastation of his village but on the beast before him. With it's back turned, Rion stared in horror, frozen as his eyes watched the tail swing back and forth. The ripples of the muscles on the back of the monster, the loud chewing, the trembling wings, the sharp claws - all absorbed into Rion's mind. The creature was covered with blood, streaks of black-red cuts and the stumps of arrows protruding the hide abundant, and yet it feasted on in an insatiable hunger. The blood stains contrasted with the creature's palled golds and blues, among the likes Rion had never seen… How they glittered in the light so… Then it raised it's great head towards the heavens and swallowed, a string of jelly-like flesh falling from it's jaws.
Suddenly he vomited at the scene. He coughed and spluttered before collapsing into a heap, his eyes clenched tight. There was an uneasy silence that followed, and abrupt stop to the chewing and a tension grew in the air. He tried to stay still, to stay quiet, to let the cold breeze brush his skin without a worry, to let the peace and the warmth of his clothing lull him to sleep and bring him forth of this nightmare…
Boom! The earth trembled and the air vibrated as the creature turned and let out a great cry that so tore deep into Rion's ears he held his hands against them. Then his eyes clouded over and his bottom lip trembled with fury. Tears streaked his face and he stood up, quivering with anger and voracity for revenge. He looked into the creatures eyes and ran forward, unafraid now, not knowing what he was to do when he got there, but all he wanted was to reach his goal.
Like a refined move, his fingers bent down and grasped at a sword that lay bloodied on the grass, only inches from its previous owner's lifeless fingers. It felt unusual but soon his grasp relaxed into the grip's cambers. The monster arced it's great head down low to the ground and flared its wings, as though Rion radiated some great presence. But as the boy got closer, the creature snarled and then like lightening, its great maw snapped out. Rion lurched from the clamped jaws, and all of a sudden a fear gripped his heart, colder than any winter frost and sleet. Like an icicle from the coldest peak was driven through his heart. And he stumbled.
The ground rushed up hard against his back, his head striking against stone. A huge looming, grinning like head swayed above him, observing him, taunting him, as though to say "what a pathetic creature… so weak and fragile…" and then Rion's anger flared again, his eyes growing sharp as crystal, his arm twitching with anticipation.
He swung with all his might, slicing true against the creature's face, and with a great sad cry the monster reared back, screaming, blood streaming from it's head. Its hulk rolled against the Guildhall, crushing part of the roof and causing its inhabitants to cry out in fear, until it leapt – or rather fell – from the cliff completely disorientated and enraged. There was a long swoosh and then the creature soared away to the east, to be a mere dot on the horizon against the mountains.