The Hunt

My father’s warning had been uttered in a frightened, fearful whisper. “I’ve already lost one son to this dreadful beast. Please. Please don’t make me mourn another.”

He had clutched at my sleeve as if he could keep me from setting out on my hunt. He would have joined me if he could. I saw the helplessness and bitter anguish in his eyes. But on the same awful day, my father lost his son, and I lost my younger brother, my father also lost his leg. Both were taken by the fearsome creature I now sought.

They’d been hunting game, my father told me, deep in the tulgey wood. My younger brother had just shot his first deer. He’d been so excited; my father so proud. And all the while, they themselves were being hunted. They just didn’t know it.

The creature came upon them before they could even react. It took my father in its terrible jaws and flung him wide. He fell into a forest gulch. That saved his life, though he nearly died. He lost consciousness and was found hours later by other townspeople once they noticed he and my brother were missing.

My father they were able to save. There was nothing left of my brother to bury. No sign of the creature that had killed him. But the townspeople knew what it was from what they gathered from my father’s frantic babbling.

The creature had been spoken of in hushed tones and fearful voices for years. It was said to haunt the tulgey wood; it would kill any man that dared enter its domain. None dared even speak its true name. It was thought to be a myth told around fires late at night. It was not.

I hadn’t been there when my brother was killed. I hadn’t been home. I’d been in a far-off land, fighting in a war for king and country. I was the eldest son. It had been my duty to serve, and so I went. I saw many horrors, true monsters wearing men’s faces in those distant lands.

I served with honor, so I was told. I received medals for my bravery, and for serving with distinction that went above and beyond the call of my duty. When the war finally ended, I returned home and found it darkened, and emptier than I’d left it.

Mother passed from a fever when my brother was still young. It had just been the three of us for so long. My father, my brother, and me. And now it was just my father and me. Standing there, with my father clinging desperately to me, I knew what I had to do.

Gently, I pried his shaking grip from my sleeve. I hugged my father goodbye so he could not see the tears brimming in my eyes. The rapid, terrified beat of his heart in his frail chest echoed in mine.

“I’ll come back home, father,” I told him. “I promise.”

With that, I set out on my hunt. I didn’t look back. My resolve would have broken if I had. I felt my father’s gaze on me until I disappeared from his line of sight. I set my face, a mask of cold determination as I left the town far behind me. I slipped between the trees of the tulgey wood, entering that dark forest. My hunt had begun.

I don’t know how long I traveled, nor how far. I didn’t eat; I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t. Not until my search was done and my dread foe was dead.

It wasn’t for honor. It wasn’t for glory. It wasn’t even for the townspeople to be free to hunt in the tulgey wood without fear. It wasn’t for anything as noble as that. It was for vengeance. Vengeance which burned in my heart as I searched for the dreadful beast.

In the quiet of the forest and the stillness of the wabe, I could almost hear my brother’s blood crying out to me, crying for vengeance as well. Avenge me, my brother. My father’s warning echoed in my head like a drumbeat. Beware, my son.

Back and forth they went, my father’s warning and my brother’s blood, until they melted together in my mind, like a cacophonous mixture. Avenge me, my brother. Beware, my son. I let them rage within me and did not care that they did.

All that mattered to me was finding the creature. That desire sustained me for a time and then consumed me. I should have been more careful. Exhaustion finally overtook me, and I rested by one of the great forest trees, one that I knew well. It brought back bittersweet memories.

It was a tree I knew from my youth. I had played beneath its broad limbs and climbed through its exposed roots—roots as thick as trees. My brother had given it a name, one that came back to me after all these years. The “Tumtum Tree” he’d called it and laughed at the whimsy of the name.

Tears burned in my eyes. I bent over to wipe them angrily on the edge of my shirt. Then I heard a strange noise in the distance, like an earthquake mixed with a raspy, ragged breath. It sounded almost like a pool of tar bubbling and burbling. It was no creature of the forest I’d ever heard before.

My pulse quickened, and my breathing became shallow and rapid. There, from among the trees of the tulgey wood came my prey. It stood not fifteen hands from me. I saw it, and it saw me.

It stared at me with flame-filled eyes, eyes that burned with vicious hatred. I felt its rancid breath, hot on my face as it bared those terrible, jagged teeth at me, teeth like broken shards of cut mirror-glass that would tear me to shreds with one savage bite. Its claws, long and sharp as steel, curled around a fallen oak on the forest floor. The bark cracked, and then the tree snapped in its grip. It could break me just as easily if it caught me in those terrible claws.

My father’s words of warning echoed in my head again as I stood across from the manxome foe. I didn’t run; I didn’t turn away. I had come too far. I met the creature’s fearsome gaze.

“You killed my brother,” I whispered to it. I did not care that it could not understand my words. It would learn through other means my intent. Rage bloomed in my heart and darkened my features. “Now I’m going to kill you.”

My sword was sheathed on my hip. The sword I had carried with me all these years, across hundreds of fields of battle in far-off lands, the sword that had tasted blood. It whispered to me of promised vengeance.

Neither I nor my foe moved a muscle. Neither of us blinked; we barely even breathed. This was it, that tense, still moment—the final moment of quiet calm before the storm.

Then there was a flash like lightning as sunlight glinted, reflecting off the creature’s terrible claws. It lunged at me with a dreadful swipe, snarling as it came.

I dove out of the path of its descending claws. I hit the earthen forest floor with a jarring thud and rolled to my feet, thrown off by the creature’s speed. My sword rang free from its sheath as I brought it up to parry the creature’s next swiping blow.

My sword is sharp, sharper than normal steel. It was forged by the swordsmiths of old. They used ancient, arcane methods long forgotten. It can cut through flesh and bone—even stone if need be.

I barely felt resistance as my vorpal blade slashed through the creature’s talon-like claws, severing them. The shriek was ear-splitting and terrible, filled with agony and rage. Instinctively, I shielded my face with an upraised arm as the creature’s blood flew from its ruined paw in an arcing pattern through the air. The places where the blood splattered on my left arm burned like a firebrand. My own cry of pain joined the creature’s, filling the tulgey wood.

I lowered my arm awkwardly. It was cracked and blistered in the places where the creature’s blood burned its way through my shirtsleeve. I moved just in time to see the creature’s other clawed, talon-like paw sweeping toward me from my left-hand side. I couldn’t turn in time to parry the blow as I had before.

I twisted and managed to jump backward, but all I did was lessen the force of the creature’s strike. There was still enough force behind it to knock me off my feet. I flew backward through the air, tossed like a ragdoll, and I slammed into the thick trunk of the Tumtum tree.

I heard a crack as I hit the tree and gasped in pain, my breath was driven from my lungs. I lost my grip on the vorpal blade; it spiraled to the earthen forest floor. I didn’t see where it landed as I crumpled to the ground.

For a moment, my vision darkened. I fought off unconsciousness and drew in a ragged breath. Sharp, knife-like pain stabbed through me, but I had no time to check whether my ribs were broken or merely cracked. The creature was nearly upon me.

Its toothy maw was opened wide in a terrible snarl as it lunged toward me again. Desperately, I threw myself out of the way, falling painfully upon the exposed roots. Next to me, the creature’s jaws slammed into the place where I had just been, snapping at air and tree roots with a savage ferocity. I managed to escape its awful bite. Next time, it would not be so easily avoided.

I tried to get to my feet, but the roots of the Tumtum tree had ensnared me. My leg was pinned, and I could not get myself free. Frantically, I searched for where my sword had fallen. My hands scrambled all around me on the leaf-covered forest floor, seeking my vorpal blade. I couldn’t find it.

My heart pounded loudly in my chest. I knew I was running out of time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the creature rearing back for another strike. It was slow and sure, taking its time as it stood over my inert form, glaring down at me. Its eyes of flame burned with hateful triumph. It knew death was near.

I lay there, helpless. Was this where my story would end? With death and failure? I had come so far, only to fail now at the very end of it all.

“I’m sorry, brother,” I whispered as I glared back at the eyes of the creature. I wouldn’t close my eyes. I wouldn’t look away. I wouldn’t give it that satisfaction. I’d meet my death face-to-face. Defiant to the very end.

The creature snarled in fury, its terrible jaw open, filled with teeth like shards of cut mirror-glass. My death descended upon me. I froze. My hand felt a familiar object, one that I knew well, covered by dirt, leaves, and broken fragments of scattered tree roots. My fingers closed around it right as the creature lunged to finish its awful work.

My vorpal blade rose with a ring of steel. I screamed in defiance, throwing all my strength and fury into that swing. My aim was true. The creature’s strange, burbling cry was cut short as my vorpal blade cut deep into its neck. It fell on its side next to me, toppling over in the throes of death. Its acid-like blood began to pool, filling the air with the smell of smoke as tree roots dissolved, eaten away.

I cut my leg free from the snare of the tree roots and painfully made my way to my feet. I stared down at my fallen foe. Cold, dispassionate vengeance was in my gaze as I raised my sword once more, still wet with the creature’s blood.

I severed its head from its body, making sure that it was truly dead. Even with my vorpal blade, it took me four strikes. The creature’s blood smoked on my sword, but whatever wards placed upon the steel by the swordsmiths of old held true. I wiped its blood free from the blade and sheathed my sword once more.

I stared down at my fallen foe, its eyes which once burned with hate were now glassy and devoid of light. The deed was done; the creature was dead. My vengeance was accomplished. I felt no triumph, no joy in my heart. I only felt the empty, hollow weight of sorrow. The creature was dead, but so was my brother. Vengeance could not bring him back again.

I left the creature’s body beneath the Tumtum tree and departed from the tulgey wood. It was a slow trek back home. My side burned with each breath I took in, and my left arm throbbed. It would never fully heal. I would carry a reminder of the creature with me until the day I died.

The sky had darkened, and the sun had set as I walked into town. I barely noticed the stares or heard the hushed whispers from those in the streets. Slowly, people fell in behind me as I limped down the road. In the middle of the town square, I stopped and finally noticed the crowd of familiar faces gathered around me. Dimly I heard someone call out to send for the healer. Another asked what had happened. I waved them all off.

There was only one person I wanted to see. My father pushed his way through the gathered crowd, hobbling forward with his crutch. He stopped as he saw me. His eyes, filled with worry and flooded with relief met mine.

Wordlessly, I lifted the creature’s head for everyone to see. I had carried with me all that way, proof of what I had done. Then, I tossed it to the muddy ground in front of me and turned away. I heard the shouts and the joyous laughter that erupted from the townspeople. Hands clapped on my back, and congratulations filled my ears, but I barely noticed them.

I made my way over to my father. Tears streamed down his face. They streamed down mine too. I fell into his arms, and he held me tightly. I had made it back to him, just as I’d promised.

“Welcome home, my son,” he whispered. “Welcome home.”

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