Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Through the deep wood the young man wanders, lost for hours as he searches for the fabled Crimson City. He’s heard many stories of this great metropolis. Such as how the streets, paved in gold, lead to high buildings, constructed ground up from the finest stone. Its people clothed in the finest of linen, as they feast on rich foods, and drink rich wine. The air is clean there. Staggering around the mysterious wood, surrounded by its heavy air and foreign sounds, the city seems more of a fairy tale now than it had before all the stories reached his ears. Tired, he rests against one of the many tall oak trees. He takes the bottom of his ragged shirt and wipes the sweat trailing down his face. In each direction the green of the forest is all the young man can see, a gentle fog slowly trailing through closer to him. He sits for a while as he steadies his breath.

 

           

 

            He closes his eyes, calm, and feels the air moving through him. But soon he becomes lost in his own thoughts, he drifts off into his own memories, and they choke him, choking his breath. The muscles in his neck and shoulders tighten as he loses time, falling into an uneasy sleep. Dreaming of a woman, clothed in blood. She cries to him over and over, “Live this life…forget those gone before” Each step he takes toward her, she retreats further into the black doorway behind her.

 

 

            The man jumps out of his rest as the hairs on his skin stand. Distant sounds echo, growing near. The young man slowly rises to his feet to listen more closely. He steps toward the noises, his arm reaching backwards toward his sword. He stands still, ready, but relaxed. And suddenly, from deep within the wood, two wolves dart over toward the young man, there mouths watering with anticipation of a new meal. One of the wolves, wearing a scar over its left eye, slowly drops behind as the other charges forward. The young man calmly pulls the sword out from it’s sheath and holds it firm in his hand. As the wolf draws closer, he simply turns his back, resting his hands on his hip and the blade of the sword on his shoulder. The wolf howls as he leaps forward, teeth glaring over at him. Quickly spinning, the young man greets the wolf with his sword, rushing the blade through the beast’s skull; it drops to the ground with a whimper. The other wolf, glares over at him, growling quietly, harshly. He circles around the young man, as he puts the sword back on its place. He brings himself down onto his knees, looking at the wolf, watching him intently in its eyes, whispering, “There is a beast in this forest, one more monstrous than any creature alive.” The wolf, bares his teeth, as he slowly backs away, his ears pointed straight up, stiff. He quickly turns and darts away as quickly as he came.

 

            The young man turns to the dyeing creature before leaving. “…slave to your hunger.” He shakes his head, saddened by fresh blood on his sword.