Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Zak was sleeping soundly when suddenly he opened his eyes slightly. He had sensed something; a presence within the room. He looked up slowly into the darkness beyond the doorway, listening. There was a faint resonance of a cloth blowing in the breeze, and then all was silent. He began to sit up, listening. He was gazing out into the darkness, listening with all his might. He was about to step out of the bed when a wave of exhaustion overtook him, and he lay back and closed his eyes. 

 

**

Zak awoke with a start. His long black hair was matted to his face with sweat, and the blankets were damp. He had had another nightmare of the night his parents died…. He was tangled in them like an insect in a spider web, and he struggled to get out of them. He stood up and looked around. Something didn’t seem right in his mind. He felt something in the back of his mind….that something around him had been disturbed…. He looked around again, and after seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he dressed and left the room.

In the main room he set for the door at once and threw it open, and was met with a burst of sunshine. The normal warm feeling that overcame him when he saw the sunlight did not come today, but the feeling of peril persisted. He crossed the street over a low bridge to the other side toward the center of town.

Zak always woke up early, and this day was no different. However, normally he was alone in the village for some time before anybody woke, but on this day the village was bustling with activity. It was a moment before he realized that everybody was going in the same direction, toward the medical house. He quickened his pace to catch up with the villagers. As he crossed through the moving people he realized something; everybody had the same look on their face.

Nobody smiled or spoke to each other, but their eyes were set forward and their faces pale and blank. He heard an official in the distance yell ahead “Don’t move the body!”

Zak’s ears perked up in alarm. There was a body? There was a death…. He walked faster now, pushing through the crowd roughly toward a low building at the end of the street. He heard people beginning to scream as they drew nearer, and with that he began to run, drawing a small dagger from his belt. He finally reached the medical building and pushed through a crowd of people blocking the door. He found them gathered around something in a circle, and with a final push he broke into the open. What he saw made him gasp.

The village doctor, Shoji, was dead. His body lay on the ground, a pool of blood formed around his open neck. A clean blade had been slashed across his neck, splitting the skin and spilling blood onto the floor. The crowd around him looked at the dagger Zak was holding as if it were poisoned, and he quickly put it away.

Somebody bent over to examine the body but was pulled back by an elderly woman. Tears formed in Zak’s eyes as he saw the grotesque sight before him, but he could not look away. A moment later a strong arm pushed him aside and Taro bent over the body, and all was silent. He looked at it for a moment and then stood and looked at everybody.

“He was sliced in the throat by a katana. I have one just like it. It seems that he was approached from behind, and the sword came up and around and cut him.”

Zak grimaced and looked at the ground, fighting to control his emotions. “Who could have done this? Surely nobody from the village!” yelled a woman from somewhere behind them.

A man standing next to Zak whispered a single word. “Ninja.”

The crowd shuddered as if the word were diseased. A few women shouted, and some of the men cursed. Zak looked up suddenly, a feeling of rage welling up inside his stomach. Taro looked at the crowd and said simply, “Yes, I think so.”

Enraged whispering erupted from the crowd, and a few people left the scene, choosing not to listen. Taro looked at the body of Shoji again and then said. “There is no other explanation. The cut clearly shows that he was slashed from behind in the manner of a ninja. And it is highly doubtful that somebody from the village could have done such a terrible act.”

Zak looked beyond him and saw the mysterious stranger from the day before. He was wearing the same straw pointed hat and dark robes like the day before. Like before, he hat was dipped low to cover his eyes and casting his face in shadow. He seemed to be looking right at him, staring at him. Zak was about to say something to him when Taro spoke again.

“We must act. If it happened during the night, the ninja could not have gotten far from the village. We must send a search party into the mountains. The rest of us; we must be on our guard. There is no telling weather this could happen again to somebody else.” Some of the younger doctors who worked in the building began ushering people out. Taro nodded in agreement and said “Let them tend to the body and lay him to rest for now.”

As the crowed departed, the man in the straw hat moved toward Zak, a hand reaching for the inside of his robes. Zak looked at him and sidestepped deeper into the crowd away from the stranger. He kept glancing back and saw that he was closing in on him. He looked back forward and was suddenly grabbed and spun around by his shoulder, and he began to speak roughly when he realized it was Taro.

He looked over Taro’s shoulder and saw the shadowed stranger fall back into the crowd and gone from sight.

“Zakoura, I think you should come with me. I need to talk to you.”

Zak nodded and followed him back to the armory. When they reached the building Taro shut the doors and bolted them shut. A look of apprehension was on his face that Zak had never seen before, and was even more surprised when he slid the windows shut.

The only light came from the narrow slit in the ceiling for the smoke from the fire to escape, next to a high wooden rack that hung from the wooden beams on the ceiling from which hung numerous tools and weapons.

“I’m worried Zak. I’m worried and I don’t worry easily.”

Zak sensed the fear in his voice, and he became worried as well.

“What is happening Taro?”

The weapon maker looked grim and replied, “The attack on Shoji was very unfortunate, but I’m afraid this isn’t the last we will hear of this ninja. I fear he will return again, soon I expect.”

Zak was confused. “What on earth for? Didn’t he accomplish what he came for?” asked Zak.

Taro looked unsure. “It is very unlikely that a ninja would come so far from his homeland just to assassinate a doctor from a small village.

I knew Shoji very well, and I am sure that he has never even set foot outside this village. How could he possibly have any enemies? I believe he came for….something else.”

His thought trailed off and Zak looked at him curiously. “You mean to say he came to kill somebody else? But who?”

Taro looked scared now, and a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “I have kept a secret from you Zakoura. It is with great regret, but I had no choice….. I did not want you to get upset….”

Zak looked at him with dark eyes and said roughly, “What have you kept from me Taro?”

Taro sucked in his breath and said softly, “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I will just say it.” He paused and then said quickly, “I fear that he is after you Zak.”

Zak became slightly dizzy. He looked at him in bewilderment, his mouth open in shock.

“I fear that the ninja that killed Shoji came for you but was somehow thrown off track. If he is serious about killing you as well, then I think he will strike again soon, tonight most likely, or even during the day.”

“Kill me? How in the world did you come up with this assumption?” asked Zak in surprise.

“I think that the one who killed your mother and father is from the same clan. They must be here to finish the job. It is difficult to explain, but I need you to do something for me.”

He stopped to let his words sink in and after a few moments Zak said, “You want me to leave don’t you?”

Taro nodded slowly.

“Why?” asked Zak.

Taro thought about this before answering. “I think that the ninja is within the village. It sounds strange, but I don’t think that he ever left. I fear that he is one of us.”

Zak looked dumbfounded and then asked, “Then why did you tell the rest of them to form a search party to chase him down?”

 “I needed a way for them to divert their thoughts away from the attack, for I thought that it may draw the ninja to attention again. I need you to leave the village for the safety of not only yourself but for that of the rest of the village. I think that the undercover ninja will strike as soon as possible; tonight if not during the daytime.”

Zak thought about what he said about the ninja being in the village already, when an image struck his mind suddenly. The man in the straw hat…..in the long robe….so unlike that of the rest of the villagers…..who mysteriously showed up the day before the attack…. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

“Taro I think I know who the ninja is.” But Taro suddenly dropped his head. His body fell forward and Zak caught him. Imbedded in his back was a long, thin throwing knife. It was deep in his skin, and a thin line of blood dripped from the wound. He lowered his body, his mind reeling, and looked behind where Taro had just been standing.

The suspicious stranger stood out from the shadows near the furnace, a handful of throwing knives in one of his hands. His pointed hat was drawn back, revealing a dark face draped in long black hair. A large katana hung from his sash that was previously covered in the cloak. He was smiling slightly, and he gripped the knives tighter when he saw him.

A wave of anger rolled over Zak’s body, his face turned red and his fists clenched. This was the ninja who killed Shoji. He looked down to see if Taro was okay, and saw that he was breathing in quick, rasping gasps. The wound on his back flowed with blood. He let him down easy and then quickly rolled backwards toward the wall and scooped up a short sword from the rack and held it up menacingly.

The ninja in the corner sneered and finally spoke. “The time is upon us now. Time for me to finish what was started seven years ago.”

Zak gritted his teeth. He looked closely at his eyes, and listened to his voice….

 “You.” He said this with fire in his eyes, fury in his voice. Memories of that night seven years ago flooded into his mind. A feeling like he had never felt before rushed through his veins, as if his very blood was on fire.

All he could think about at that moment was the desire to kill this man, this ninja! He brought up his sword and charged the ninja, the images of his parents burning in his mind. He swung wildly, his blade arching overhead in a blind rage. The stranger sidestepped and jabbed with his fistful of knives. A few of them caught Zak in the side, and three long, thin cuts appeared on his ribs. He howled in agony and tumbled to the ground in front of the cold furnace. He leaped to his feet and charged again, this time coming in low. The ninja smiled beneath the shadow of his straw hat and leaped into the air, flipping in the air and spinning so he landed in a crouch behind Zak’s charging body. He slid his knives into his sash and withdrew his katana.

Zak’s vision was dark and his head throbbed with fury as he turned yet again to face the ninja. He saw that he was holding a double sided katana. It consisted of a long handle wrapped in black silk, and a long, curving blade extended from each side. The double bladed katana brought back memories of the attack in his home seven years ago, and suddenly the scar on his chest stung as he extended his arms, grabbing a second sword from a rack of the wall and holding it before him.

The ninja opposite him smiled again and chuckled. He remembered that chuckle….. Zak charged him again, faster and more determined this time, his blade whirling in a silver blur. He spun when he reached the ninja, swinging his blades at his sides. The ninja dodged these attacks with ease, and Zak found himself yet again on the other side of the ninja. This was not going to work… He needed a new plan. Without looking up to give anything away, he turned and stared at the ninja.

The stranger was still smiling, and with a shrug of his head the straw hat on his head fell back, revealing his full face. He had dark eyes that were covered in jet black hair streaked with red. His face was sharp looking and pale, like a snake.

 “You fight like you did seven years ago. That night I killed your father. You’re still so pathetic looking.”

Zak was thinking of the wooden rack that hung from the ceiling above. It was perfect… Zak flicked his eyes behind the ninja’s head; just enough for the stranger to turn slightly, and his sword dropped a fraction of an inch.

Zak swung one of his swords up in a spinning motion, and his sword flew through the air toward the wooden rack on the ceiling. The blade soared upward and cut through two of the ropes that supported it. After it left his hand he whipped around and ran to the wall. He dug his heels into the stone and vaulted backward into the air. He spun in mid flight and grabbed the wooden rack with his arms and jerked down. The rack broke free and tumbled to the ground below and onto the stranger.

The ninja was caught off guard and threw his arms up to protect himself, but it was too late. The splintered wood crashed onto him with a loud crack and he fell to the ground in a daze. Zak landed heavily and leapt to his feet, whipping around to face him. The ninja was on the ground, his eyes closed, breathing slowly. Zak approached him with caution, his remaining sword held menacingly before him.

Zak looked down upon the stranger beneath the wood pieces. He was not dead, exactly how Zak wanted him. He stood over him with his sword pointed at him.

“Now you will get what you deserve. You will feel the pain that you have caused so many. You will pay for what you have done.”

He knew he could not hear him, but he spoke to him nonetheless, all of the memories and pain that this ninja had caused came to him in that moment. He brought up his sword in an arch over his body, preparing to strike.

But suddenly he heard something shift and slide behind him, and then he remembered. Taro. He turned and saw the weapon maker pulling himself across the floor toward a low bench. A trail of blood was smeared across the floor behind him. He took one last glance down at the ninja. His eyes were still closed and he was still. He wasn’t going anywhere.

He dropped his sword to the ground and ran over to Taro. He pulled him to his feet and set him down on the bench. The old man groaned him pain and leaned back, his face in a grimace. The old man looked up at him as he was laid across the bench and smiled.

“Thank you….Zakoura.”

Zak smiled slightly. “Everything is going to be fine.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Zakoura…. I need to tell you something. I need you to go to Kyoto…. Go to Kyoto and seek what you wish to do with your life….. You do not want to stay in this village forever…..”

Zak nodded slowly. “Okay. I will.”

And then Taro tried to sit up a bit, but it was too much for his body. A thin line of blood ran down from the corner of his mouth, and then he said, “I put together some things for you…..in the bag right there.”

He nodded to the floor beside them, and Zak saw that there was a leather bag filled with items he did not know of. It was fairly large and somewhat heavy looking.

“Zak….behind you…on the shelf….”

Zak turned around and looked on top of the shelf. On it was a long object wrapped in a dark cloth. He unraveled it and saw that beneath it was a sword within a black decorated sheath.

He looked down at Taro and asked slowly “You made this for me?”

Taro nodded and smiled slightly, “Yes…. It is my best work….a gift…”

He nodded to the sheath and said softly, “Look at it…”

Zak drew the blade from its sheath slowly, hearing the smooth steel slide against the inside. He pulled it out entirely and saw the whole blade. It was magnificent! The blade was a deep black color with a sharp, purple edge. An intricate design of a flowing, purple dragon twisted up the edge, winding around until it came to an end at the very tip of the blade. It was drawn with such detail and precision that Zak was awed that Taro could have ever created it. The handle was wrapped in black silk set with small, ebony jewels. The guard was small and square shaped, and as he held it out before him, he saw that this was the most exquisite weapon he had ever seen.

The weapon was heavy and strong, but at the same time it felt very comfortable in his hands. It flowed between his fingers and across his palm like silk when he twirled it in his hands. It seemed to become a part of his own arm as he held it, a part of him as a whole, an extension of his arm. He slowly and gently slid it back into its sheath, and let it click as it became set in place. The sheath itself was decorated in the same manner as the blade; a long, winding purple dragon.

Zak did not know where, but he had seen this design before. He quickly searched his past for the time he had seen this, but it escaped him. He would worry about that later, he decided. He put the blade to his side and looked back at Taro. His eyes had closed, and the gentle up and down motion of his chest had ceased. He was gone……..

A tear fell from his eyes onto Taro’s chest. Zak took a deep breath and grabbed a blanket from a cabinet and laid it across the weapon maker’s body, covering his face. He let his body lay there on the bench, and then he stood with his sword.

He would use his new blade to kill the ninja, the one who had killed Taro, and his parents. He turned quickly and as he did he drew the blade, but stopped at what he saw.

The ninja was gone. His body no longer lay there beneath the wood, but it seemed as if he were never there. He was gone….

Another wave of tears began to well in his eyes. He was too late. His chance at revenge had escaped him! He could have ended it right then, a few moments ago, but he didn’t……

He clenched his fists in anger and then looked up, into the flames that roared in the furnace. As his dark eyes absorbed the dancing flames, his mind became set. He would travel to Kyoto, just as Taro had said, but he would not pursue a peaceful life….No. No, he would travel there, and gain the tools he would need to fight and kill this ninja, and any like him….He would destroy all of them……

With his goal in mind he tore his eyes from the flames and walked back to Taro. He wanted nothing more than to talk to him, for he was the only one he had ever really spoken to at all in the past seven years. Taro would know what to do now; he would have some sort of advice for him in a dire situation. But he was gone, gone forever, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Zak took the heavy leather bag and the sheathed sword and slid open the door and left, not looking back at his departed friend. He closed the door behind him. He moved through town quickly, keeping his eyes low, not looking at anybody who happened to pass by. The villagers were silent and mournful, nobody speaking to each other. He was able to make it back to his house with no trouble and quickly walked in and slid the door shut. He went to his mattress and put the bag down. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath.

His life had practically shattered that day. Nothing would be the same from now on….. He would keep Taro’s word and leave Tokisawa. He would leave to protect not only himself but the village as well.

He turned and opened the leather bag. It was about the size of his chest and very wide, and slightly heavy. He unrolled the top string and reached in. Within he found a small blanket made of thin cotton, a small glass jar containing black dye, a first aid kit wrapped in burlap, and a few other small items needed to survive in the wild.

 The most impressive item was a set of crude armor made of heavy leather and fabric. It was nothing compared to the marvelous works of craftsmanship that Taro had showed with his other sets of armor at the shop, but this set would do just fine for a long journey. It was composed of a simple plate of heavy fabric over the chest and wrapping leather plates that stretched over his forearms. The last piece was a waist guard that extended down his thighs and onto his knees and shins. To tie it together was a heavy belt with numerous pockets and buckles. It would be enough to protect him if any misfortune would fall upon him on the road.

At the bottom of the bag he found a piece of paper with basic directions to find Kyoto, and also a small dagger within a black sheath. He pulled the light armor over his body and saw that it fit perfectly. Over that he stretched a silk shirt and robe top and pants, concealing the armor from view. He slipped the dagger into his sash and arched the sword over his back beneath his robe, concealing it from view. He put the rest of the items back into the bag and slung it over his shoulder. Across the back of his waist he strapped his quiver and he put his bow over his back. He made his way to the door to leave.

He took one last look at his room, sighed, and turned and left. He walked through the small house with regret and sadness. He remembered all that had happened to him since Taro brought him here seven years ago, and the thought of leaving made his heart ache. But he kept thinking to himself that one day he would return, when all became well again and it was safe for him to reveal himself once again.

He reached the front door and walked out. He was surprised to see that nobody was in the village. It was deserted. No wind chilled the air, and the sun was high in the sky. Long shadows were cast across the ground of the main street as he walked. He headed for the exit. Nobody stirred, but Zak was happy for that. He did not want to encounter anybody as he left. But the sight of an empty village was eerie. He wondered where everybody was. He turned onto a back street, crossed a narrow bridge over a flowing creek and onto yet another street that led to the exit gate. He turned to see the exit gate and stopped.

The ninja from before was standing at the gate, and two more stood on either side of him. They each had drawn katanas along with the double bladed katana of the middle one. He had that same wicked smile on his pointed face, all three of them looking right at him.

At once his mind jumped to the thought of his new sword buried in the chest of that ninja, but to his relief his logic caught up with him, and he realized that he was in no right state to fight not only this one ninja, but two more just like him.

Zak needed to get out. He needed to leave the village, but there was no way he could get through three ninjas. He needed another way to get out, but how?  He heard a whine of a horse in the distance from the stables. It was just the thing he needed to hear. He whipped around and took off running back into the town, toward the horses and away from the ninjas.

He did not dare look back, but kept sprinting forward as fast as he could go. He turned several streets, crossed two bridges and found himself on the other side of a thick row of houses. He had to stop and gather a plan, but he had no idea if any of the ninjas were behind him. He dove beneath one of the low bridges that passed over a trickling creek and crouched beneath the wood.

He needed to think of a plan. He needed to reach the horses, but they were located on the opposite side of the village in the barn. But he needed to get to the horses; he could not escape the village on foot…..

Without hesitating he pelted out of the hiding spot of the bridge and into the open. He saw none of the ninjas as he turned down several streets, but as he was turning onto the main street he heard a whish and something buzzed in his mind. Upon instinct he threw himself to the ground, and just then a large throwing knife thudded into the wall behind where he had just stood.

He leapt to his feet and began to run, but instead of running down the main street to the other side he turned to the right and shot down a narrow alleyway. He came out on the other side facing a small street that led to the last street before the barn. Just then a dark shadow leapt out from the darkness behind the building.

Again Zak’s instincts saved him, and as he dove away and came up, his sword had mysteriously appeared in his hand. A fire had danced to life in his eyes and suddenly he charged forward toward the ninja, who also had his sword drawn. Zak came in low with a sweeping slash to the ninja’s legs, but in a burst of strength the ninja knocked his blade aside and kicked out, sending Zak crashing onto his back.

He was so strong! Zak decided at that moment that he could not fight this ninja, for it would almost certainly end in death. He leapt to his feet and sprinted in the opposite direction, sheathing his sword and hitching his bag over his shoulder. He turned sharply to avoid any possible attacks and charged down the last street before he reached the barn. He did not look back, for that would mean slowing his pace. He turned onto the last street and saw the barn in the distance.

With the greatest burst of speed he could muster he sprinted down the street. As he neared the barn he chanced a look back. Behind him he saw two of the ninjas ten feet behind him, gaining ground fast. He panicked, and he did what he thought would slow them down. He crouched and spread his legs, and the ninjas toppled over his legs and crashed to the ground.

As they lay there, dazed, he took the time to complete his journey to the barn. He kicked open the door and without thinking he jumped onto the nearest horse. As he reared it up and the horse turned, a ninja appeared as if from nowhere and jumped up to attack him. Zak kicked his horse and the beast sped forward, knocking the ninja to the side and sending him flying to the ground, stunned.

Zak charged forward on his horse, bursting out into the street. He turned sharply and at the end of the street he saw the gate leading out of the village. As he neared it there was a crash next to him, and then a body had grabbed hold of the saddle next to him. He looked down and saw that one of the ninjas was holding onto the saddle, trying to pull himself up.

Zak flailed his body to let him go, but the ninja would not budge. As he let go with one hand to reach down and reach his dagger, Zak kicked out with his leg. It caught the ninja in the chest and he fell down a few inches. Zak steered his horse to the side and the ninja’s body was being dragged against the sides of the buildings.

He cried out in pain and let go of the saddle, and was left in a heap beneath the splintering wood. Zak looked forward and kicked his horse to go faster. In an instant he was out of the village, tearing down the path toward the open plains. He had evaded the ninjas, and he was gone……

 

**

 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he slowed his pace. His horse was exhausted, and he needed a break as well. He didn’t know where he was, or how far he had gone from the fields surrounding Tokisawa. He looked around at his surroundings properly for the first time since entering the forest. The thin path on which he traveled wound through thick forests of pine and oaks, up on a slight slope.

          He didn’t know what he would do now, but his only guess was to keep following the path, hopefully if would lead to a place of civilization. But he had been gone for hours, and he was thirsty. He guided his horse down the path for a few moments more when he heard a trickle of a stream. Water was through the trees to his left…..

          He turned his horse to the left toward the sound of the water, but the horse? It kicked up and bucked wildly, its body forcing him up. He pulled on the reins desperately to keep the animal under control, but it was determined to not enter the forest. He decided it wasn’t worth it to enter the forest and turned to leave but the horse still did not?

          At once the horse kicked up and ran into the forest, off the path and into the thick of the trees. It was out of control, bucking and jumping about like a berserker. It ran toward the water with reckless abandon, but Zak could not get off of its back. His helpless body crashed into the trees, and after one final push, the horse kicked high and Zak was thrown off. He tumbled into the foliage below, the branches cutting his skin and ripping his clothes. It took all of his strength to reach up and grab his bag of supplies before the horse took off running through the trees, although he was not fortunate enough to grab his bow and quiver that were still clipped to the saddle.

          He got to his feet slowly, brushing the dirt from his clothes. He had no idea why the horse had acted the way it had. He had no time to wonder what had just occurred, for he realized that he had become lost in the forest. But when he realized this, he did not panic. He had been on his own in the wilderness before. It was something that he could never quite understand, but ever since he had moved Tokisawa he had a strange feeling of isolation within him. It was not something that bothered him however. On the contrary, he found that when he would venture out into the wild on his own, sometimes for days at a time, he found solace within himself and within the forest.

          He would come out to hunt, and sometimes he would be gone for days on end, merely living in the forest, becoming one with nature itself. He would sleep beneath the stars, sometimes within the trees themselves. He would lie on the branches, entranced by the sounds and sights that he would observe as he rested, wishing that he could stay there forever. Even though he would bring his bow and quiver on his ventures, he could not find it in himself to kill an animal.

          Often times he would carefully stalk an animal, a skill that he was proud to say he was quite good at, and find it helpless before him, yet he would not do it. As he would see a deer or even rabbits or small game before him, he would not dare draw back his bowstring. The thought of killing an animal repulsed him, something that he did not understand. It would be like killing part of himself, for he felt that he had a connection with the animals. He could not explain it, but they seemed to be an extension of his own being.

          His love for nature seemed to grow as he grew as a person, and if it weren’t for the love and care he received in Tokisawa, he would choose to live in the mountains for the rest of his life. So when he found that he was alone in the wild now, with his horse gone and having no sense of direction at all, he seemed to grow calmer. He felt at home now.

          He hitched his bag of supplies on his shoulder and moved forward toward the sound of the stream. At least he was going to get started somewhere, he thought; a fine drink of mountain water to indulge his tired body. The sound of water grew louder as he walked, and soon he found a narrow but deep stream crossing the forest floor. The water was clear and clean looking, and without hesitation he crossed over to the other side using the rocks as stepping stones, and dipped his worn hands into it.

          The water was icy cool and refreshing when he brought it to his lips, and he sat there for a long while, drinking it in, savoring the taste. He filled up the empty leather skin bag that Taro had provided for him and slung that over his shoulder, assuring his thirst to be quenched for the next day or so. He stood up and examined his surroundings once again. This was farther than he had ever been on his hunting quests. He did not recognize the region.

          And so when he spent the remainder of the day climbing upward through the forest, he could feel the temperature dropping. He was gaining altitude. He traveled for the rest of the day until the sun began to set and the sky began to darken. When night was fully upon him, he decided to stop and set up camp.

          He found a fallen tree soon enough. It was very broad and wide, and its roots that were uprooted from the earth formed a hollow within the trunk. After he covered the top with a few fallen branches and leaf beds it became a small cave. When he could no longer see through the impenetrable darkness of the night he crawled into the makeshift shelter and curled up against the warmth of the tree. He listened to the gentle breeze rustling the leaves, the chirping of crickets, and the distant howl of wolves, and he soon closed his eyes and he fell into a deep sleep.

 

**

 

          He woke suddenly when a cold drop of water pounded against his forehead and a gust of wind rocked his body. Again and again the water drops hit his skin, and the wind gusts increased in strength. He opened his eyes to see that it was raining outside, and that the forest was blowing in a gale of strong winds. Through the swaying branches he saw flashes of lightning, and when he stood and trotted out of the safety of the fallen tree, he was nearly knocked off his feet from the force of the wind. It was so strong! He turned back to his shelter and saw that it was nearly flooded with water. The rain became heavier, and soon he couldn’t see three feet in front of him. He reached in and grabbed his bag of supplies and moved forward.

          He did not know what he would do now, or where he would go, but he had to move. Perhaps he would find a cave or some sort of shelter to keep him from this storm….. He began to walk up the slope deeper into the forest when he was blown off his feet completely. The impact of the wind sent him crashing to the ground in a heap, knocking the wind from his lungs.

          He lay there for a moment, catching his breath while the relentless downpour of rain cascaded over his body. He tried to stand, but the gusts of wind cast his body to the ground again. He began to panic. What was he going to do now? The storm was overwhelming, and he had no idea where he would go. He could not return to the fallen tree where he had slept, as it was over flown with muddy water. He now realized that he had made a terrible mistake. If he had only stayed where he was instead of running off into the unknown he might not be in this mess!

          Here he was, on his back in the middle of the wilderness, at night in the midst of a terrible storm. He got to his feet with caution, holding onto a tree for support. The winds threatened to bring him to his back again, but he held on for dear life against the torrent, gripping the tree with a vice-like grasp. He would keep moving forward into the forest toward any sort of shelter. He took a few tentative steps forward up the hill. His pace was slowed as he navigated the hillside, and soon he was faced with a steep incline where he was forced to crawl on his hands up the steep ladder of earth and muddy rocks.

          He had ascended the hill for a few long, painful minutes when a strong gust knocked him off balance and onto his back. The wind blasted him again, and he fell from the steep hillside, falling fifteen feet before he landed on his side with a loud crack. He cried out in pain upon landing, feeling the crunch of bone cracking inside him. He became numb, and the flow of muddy water began to carry him away, down the hill.

          He became helpless against the flow of muck, and soon enough he could not control his movement. His body was dragged through the forest floor like a ragdoll, dragging over the rocks and sharp branches. He closed his eyes from the pain. His helpless body was being thrown into the trees….. The rain pounded his body….. And he became unaware of where he was going or how long he was thrown about. Eventually he lost all thought, and his unconscious body was left to the elements. The last sensation he felt was another crack of a bone inside, excruciating pain, and that was all.