FF Chapter 1

Alex goes hunting with his father, but something is hunting THEM.

Chapter 1

      “Alexander Abaven! Get down from there!”

      Alex recoiled. Nothing good ever came from hearing his full name. He was eight, and loved to climb, but his parents seemed to actively stop him from playing. He shimmied down from the tree house his Uncle Bor had built, and dusted himself off before running home.

      His wild brown hair, a gift from his mother, bounced on his head as he raced back. It was fall, and he was dressed in wolf furs, another gift from his mother. A wolf pack had tried to hunt him while he played in the woods, but his mother had come to his aid, killing a few of them. The next week Alex had a new coat and hat. He even got to keep the knife.

      Although, one problem of having a mother who could beat wolves in a fight, was that the spankings were that much harder. Once he was able to sit down, Sanda told him the news. “Your father just got another letter from Brig. They’re ordering all Wardens to perform another patrol.”

      Alex frowned. His father would be gone for weeks. Degmund came in, travel bag in hand, and a large two-handed sword strapped to his back. He hugged the boy tight. “It’ll only be one week, just one, and I promise I’ll take you on a patrol when I get back, just the two of us. Okay little wolf?” Degmund used Alex’s nickname while rubbing his head.

      Alex nodded, and waved goodbye to his father.

 

      He was the only child in the small town, so EVERYONE knew who he was. Without any other kids around, he had to find his fun elsewhere. In eight years, he had found three joys; climbing, camping with his father, and stories.

      Climbing was easy with all the trees surrounding the small border village, and when he wasn’t on official duty Degmund would take his son camping in the woods. The old Warden called them ‘patrols’, but the pair usually saw nothing. One time Alex caught his father reading a report and planning their path around where the last patrol had gone, ensuring they’d be safe. Father and son just took the time to bond, and Degmund would teach the boy all about surviving in the wild for weeks on end.

      As for the stories; sometimes ‘The Storyteller’, an old man in grey cloaks, would stay at their house for a couple of days. They called him ‘Uncle Bor’, although his stories were anything but boring. He seemed to visit more when Alex’s father wasn’t around, and Alex got the impression the two weren’t best friends.

 

      He arrived one day without warning, as usual. Wooden staff in hand, and dressed in old robes, he knocked on the door and was welcomed in. The Storyteller sat in a wooden chair that looked almost as old as him, and began to tell Alex different legends.

      “There used to be many Entities, with names fitting their roles and personalities. Each of them had a loyal Hand, to help carry out their plans. There was Fate and his Hand Future, Coincidence and Luck, Death and Evil, Terror and Nightmare, Life and…Eternity; among others.” He choked on the last name, but Alex couldn’t understand why. The little boy brought him a glass of water, and hoped he’d continue. “Thank you. As I was saying, there were many Entities and Hands, but then one day a beast came that was even stronger than them.”

      “Where did the beast come from?” Alex asked, wide eyed.

      “Nobody knows, and that’s the scariest thing. We only pray that it’s one of a kind. All we know for certain is the instant it appeared, everything changed. The Entities and their Hands banded together to stop the creature, but they were not united. Death, the coward he is, took Evil and hid in his mountain to the north. Coincidence and Luck allied with the monster; the creature they called the Entity Killer, or ‘EK’.”

       “Eek?” The boy laughed.

       Uncle Bor smiled sadly. “Yep, because that’s the sound they first made when they saw it. ‘EEK!’ In the end, EK was cast into a deep sleep. He’s buried under a mountain to the west, but he’s not idle. He still spawns his minions, the many species of Dan’darun.”

      “Like the dralgs?” Alex perked up. He’d heard about them from his father.

      “Yes. Those lanky, six-limbed, monsters that love climbing almost as much as you; they’re all EK’s children. They eagerly wait for the day their father emerges from the mountain. But if Fate has his way, when EK awakens, the world will be ready to greet him with swords drawn.”

      “Like my dad!” Alex jumped up, and his mother had a proud smile on her face.

      The Storyteller laughed. “Yes. Brave men like you father, who kill a dralg, get a mark on their arms and the ability to wield great power.”

      Alex had seen the mark, like red lightning dancing across the forearms that pulsed when its power was summoned. He’d seen his father shoot energy, or crush rocks with his bare hands. His sword could even cut stone like paper. “Dad’s killed three now!” he boasted proudly.

      “Then he’s at least four times stronger than any normal man.” The Storyteller smiled.

      Alex took the knife out of his boot and swung it around. “I’m gonna grow up to be strong like him!” His mother didn’t have time to scold him before Uncle Bor smacked his little hand with his walking stick, causing Alex to drop his knife.

      “You have to get stronger than an old man first, little wolf.” She laughed.

      Alex would get his chance though. Eventually Uncle Bor left, his father returned, and the pair went on their own little ‘patrol’.

 

      They trekked through the forests, keeping watch for wildlife. Degmund showed his son what kinds of berries were safe to eat, where animals made their nests and dens, and how to make a fire from nothing but sticks. Alex could never get the hang of the last one, and always accused his father of using the beast mark to cheat somehow.

      They were walking along a rough brush, when Degmund froze. “Run.” He whispered.

      “What?” Alex whispered back, straining his ears.

      “RUN!” Degmund cried, as a dralg leapt from the undergrowth towards them. The thin frame had six limbs, each ending with a clawed, hand-like appendage. A maw full of sharp teeth screeched at them.

      Alex panicked and climbed the nearest tree, but the dralg followed him up it. It didn’t get far though, as Degmund grabbed the beast by the hind legs, pulled it down, and fired a blast of energy from his hand at it. The creature switched targets, and Alex watched in horror from a tree branch as his father was pinned to the ground, unable to draw his sword.  In a choice that was equally brave and stupid, Alex pulled the knife from his boot and jumped.

      Degmund felt a heavy weight fall on him, and the beast went still. He pushed the carcass aside and found Alex, gripping his arms in agony. The father immediately rushed over to check his son. The boy’s arms were warm, red lines had crawled their way from his wrists down to his shoulder. Father and son locked eyes.

      Alex was marked!