For most of you wanting to take a peak into The Path of a Guardian, here is the first two chapters of my current draft! Feel free to leave me your feedback. I’m always open to talking to you about it as well. Wish it formatted better. Enjoy! (All works copyrighted)
A lost soul can stay hidden. With a fall, it may stumble into truth. Truth is what most of us seek, but few really find. Welcome to Treahan, more specifically the Southland of the center continent called Ceisoty.
The shadow in the darkness sat up instantly in his grimy bed. “Nightmares,” his mind thought out loud. Shafts of light crept through the rough fabric blocking the windows. Dreams of his childhood had returned after lying dormant for years. Stuffy dust filled his nostrils. Choked him. He knew he had to escape the confines of the gloomy place… eventually.
He rushed out of his muddy cabin and took in a breath of fresh mountain air. A sturdy man, no more than twenty. His matted blond hair waved in the wind as it blew through the trees in the wild forest. He scratched his dirty beard and dropped to the ground. His scarred physique pumped out pushups on the dew covered grass. The moisture caressed his nostrils and the aroma of the soil comforted him. Pale blue eyes turned from lost and distant to sharp and determined. Standing, he bent his torso and stretched his legs, feeling his tendons expand like iron cords. He broke into a sprint along the beaten dirt road through the forest. His breathing, the wind in the pines, and his bare feet tapping the land were the only sounds heard as he ran miles to return to his home an hour later.
The young man slowed to a stop outside the small cabin and looked up at the complex tree in front of him. Massive, with many ropes and obstacles tied to the winding limbs. He rubbed his unkempt whiskers, jumped up, and grabbed the thick vine made rope. Wrapping his legs, he hoisted himself upwards. His muscles tightened with every pull. His breath remained steady. Sweat beaded his forehead.
He came to a pulley and jumped up on a platform, pulling himself upwards using the mechanized device. His hands grasped a rope ladder and climbed to the summit of the branches. Wrapping his arms tightly around the limb, he swung to the top platform. Careful legs stood up on the piece of wood. The leaves brushed aside to reveal the blue sky resting over the mountainous terrain. His mind eased, seeing the familiar humps and breaks in the brush for the sparkling lakes. His watchful stare narrowed at smoke rising from a certain area of the mountain pass. Beautiful, he thought. But he knew they were coming.
The man sunk below the river of leaves, coming back to the skeleton of the forest. He grabbed the rope next to him and released a lever. His adrenaline rushed as his body plummeted downward to stop a short distance above the ground. Letting go, he fell to the dirt and the rope returned systematically to its former position.
He began to walk around his cabin.
A fierce brown cougar with white tusks wandered over to the side of his home and sniffed into one of the windows.
The young man winced and backtracked slowly to pick up a sharpened stick he had tilted against his log house. He silently crept toward his luck, but the beast sensed his presence. “C’mon saber tooth. You’re good eating,” the man whispered as it growled and lifted its shoulders. Black circles of tire shrouded his vision from the workout. The makeshift spear trembled in his weary fingers.
The mighty cougar lunged forward with a roar.
“Frock,” he cursed as he dug the back end of the stick into the ground.
The jungle cat snarled as it impaled itself. The heavy paws slumped over the man’s shoulders. Its last breath in his face made him nauseous.
He heaved the carcass off his body and went to gut and clean his prey. A knife stripped the flesh bare and sliced the body into steaks. He packed away the meat in barrels of salt and hung the skins up to dry, then walked down to the waterfall on the side of his mountain. It was his, as far as he was concerned. After bathing in the cold water, he pulled his coarse shirt over a blue tattoo of a P in the center of his back. He stepped into his black shorts and mentioned to himself, “Let’s go Leor. Time is running thin.” Leor jogged back to his outdoor cabin to retrieve his equipment.
Chapter 1- Survivor
Leor walked in the door of his humble cabin and covered himself in a brown robe. Concealing his head with the hood, he breathed a sigh of lulled boredom. Wooden walls mixed with mud and stick made it a dingy place. Piles of debris filled the cramped corners. He picked up one of the well read books in a stack.
“The Distant Land Adventures,” he remarked and chucked it away, “Despite this existence, there will be none for me to speak of.” His voice comforted him in the lonely place. He collapsed into a splintery chair for a moment. The only reason he worked out so hard was to still feel alive. His muscles would believe it tomorrow.
A cracked mirror in the corner reflected a worn sheath and a bright hilt lying in front of it. The katana looked to be the only thing of care among the heap. He approached it with reverence. One finger traced the black binding over the handle. His steady hands grasped his sword. “Alright old friend, let’s go out and create some more mischief.” The katana gleamed as he unsheathed it and wiped the light blue blade with the oily rag on his counter. His blue eyes read the one-sided blade inscription. The Path of Protection. He slid it back into the silver sheath and attached it to his belt with twine.
Leor tied up his worn boots and grabbed an orange fruit to eat along the way. The peels fell lightly on the ground as the robed survivor walked down the path to reveal a bigger dirt road. Then he crawled into the nearby brush overlooking a small hill. There he waited, as he waited every day. The smoke in the pass gave away his visitors arrival. Sometimes he would bring a book. Other moments he would spend whittling sticks or equally pointless endeavors. Today he just thought. Pondered. Questioned his life. These days were an uncommon threat to his routine.
The sun rose higher and a black wagon rolled over the hill connected to two mysteriously white and black striped horses. Stranger than usual, thought Leor. An older man with a long gray ponytail and a gray mustache held the reins. The strange man adjusted his black waist coat and stretched his crimson pants like he had been travelling awhile. These were always the easiest prey. The ones who just wanted to get on through the mountains.
Leor drifted out onto the path like a ghoul, his robe blowing in the wind as he drew his blue sword and pointed at the man on the cart. The reins pulled back and the horses slowed to a stop, but the man smirked, showing no signs of worry. He hoped his countenance would change. “Pay your toll and you may pass. Do not give me trouble, instead food and supplies. Now act and choose, but be ready if you dare, to face the consequences, your fare?”
The old man sputtered with laughter. He tried to stifle it as he wiped at his stiff mustache. “Aren’t you a bit late for the festival? It happened at Yodor about a month ago. You do know that is back down the way I came. So why don’t you pack your things and start, you might be able to make it for the next one!” he replied in a sinewy voice.
Leor frowned under his hood, not in the mood for a fight. “Sir, why do you challenge me? This is my mountain pass. You must pay to go through! I demand supplies or I will retaliate.”
The man’s quizzical face turned grave, he jumped out of his seat and walked side to side on the dirt path, keeping a curious eye on Leor. He looked done studying the hooded thief and stretched his lanky legs nearer.
Leor grew rarely nervous.
The surprisingly tall man looked through the hood. An orange tinge flashed in his faded brown eyes. His pointy mustache twitched. He raised his right hand. Just as Leor’s blue blade was going to strike out, he snapped his fingers. A flash of purple light shone into the hooded face.
Everything became black. Leor felt himself falling, but never hitting the ground. His dreams had returned to him. Memories floated gently into his consciousness. He was walking down a flight of steps and gazing at a stadium full of people that looked down at him in the heavy night. Now only a small boy, his nervousness grew with the oncoming ceremony. The fire in the middle of an arena lit his anxious face as he approached the line of red, blue, and yellow painted chieftains and the crowd got silent. His bare chest flinched as he neared the blaze.
A proud announcer stood. “Tonight, a new Head Guardian will be chosen. The old leader will step down to instruct the newest addition to the righteous legacy of the Guardian Tribe.”
The Head Guardian wore a gold vest, red leather pants, and a helmet resembling a blue flame crowning his head. He approached the childish Leor with a warm smile. “Don’t worry, this is only the beginning.” His careful hand pulled a shining metal rod out of the fire and burnt it into the boy’s back.
The fair haired minor winced as the brand released.
The Head Guardian’s hand lit up with blue light as he sealed the burning wound. His face held so much respect in the aged lines of wisdom. “Let the Spirit lighten your path,” he proclaimed.
The shape of a P glowed brightly in Leor’s back. A feeling of great pride crept over his spine. The tingling of power surged through his body and his hands poured out light. The Guardian people cheered and the celebration commenced. A few weeks passed in loving adoration for him, but in the dream they seemed like a fleeting second. A dark shroud of violence overtook his village.
Leor found himself surrounded by fire. The same crowd that was in the stadium ran for their lives. Arrows flew over their heads. He rushed through the smoke filled village and approached the flame covered home of his mentor, the last Head Guardian. To his horror, the walls and roof sunk in.
His mentor broke out of the rubble and crawled towards the frightened child with an indigo glowing sword in hand. “Let the Spirit guide you! Protect them!” The words came out like thunder to Leor. Then he sunk and fell into the darkness of the night terror.
He grabbed the katana and ran until he could feel the heat burn his face. Darkness overwhelmed his consciousness. Small fires ripped through his mind, lighting winged figures. Black bird-like beings cawed and flew above the flames of the village. The dream quickly expanded into a burning inferno.
“Leave me be! I don’t want to bother anyone!” Leor shouted out at the flitting shadows.
An iron clad figure walked slowly out of the raging flames. “That isn’t your choice, is it boy? Your existence, the existence of your people, threatens the peace I can show the world.”
Leor shirked away. “Who are you?”
The iron figure stepped forward steadily. “You can’t kill my dream of peace. You can’t kill me. You’re already dead,” he proclaimed as if he didn’t hear the child.
Leor ran forward in anger. “No, I’m very much alive!”
The pair exploded in blue light. And his dream shook him awake.
The sweaty Leor flinched and his head throbbed as he gazed at the dark forest of night. A fire burned in front of his cabin. His heart pounded his chest and sweat soaked his body. He noticed the strange old man from earlier sitting next to him. The green fireflies glowed uncommonly bright as they flew around the area. They gave a faint light to the trees and randomly lit up the stranger’s black cart like flickering candles. The striped horses chewed on something odd. Their eyes seemed to glimmer with the fire as they watched him stir out of sleep. His mind was jarred.
The man roasted Leor’s kill from earlier. His lanky body turned around and saw the road thief had awoken. “I’m sorry,” the older gentleman said, “I thought it rude to break into your supplies without your permission, but saber tooth meat is delicious.” His strong hands ripped off a piece of the bloody meat, the threads snapped as he pulled it apart. He swallowed it raw.
Leor felt nauseous and tried to move. His hands and feet were tied. He knew he had to play nice and glanced up at the man, clearing his scratchy throat in preparation. “Ok, maybe we stepped off on the wrong foot. I just want to mind my own business. You can pass. You can take the meat if you wish, but please untie me first.”
The bizarre man chuckled, straightening his mustache. “Well now, that is a little change from earlier, Mr. Forest Tax-Collector. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a split personality disorder.”
Leor contorted his face. He had never heard such a weird expression.
The fire crackled, popped, and the man lifted the cougar meat off it. Raising one eyebrow, he glanced down at his captor. “I assume you are hungry? I thought you might like yours cooked. For me, it’s too tough that way. I can’t taste the vivacity of its former life.”
Leor cringed as a sour taste hit the back of his throat. Annoyance mixed with wonder asked why he didn’t just leave him on the road. “Sure, but I don’t und-”
“You don’t understand why I have stayed here with you. It is simple really. I thought you might entertain me.” The man pulled the glowing purple cords on Leor’s hands and feet, slipping them off with ease. He stuffed them into a sack on his left. He took the steaming meat, placing it on the table he set up in front of Leor.
Leor got up, rubbing his wrists, and sat down on the ground next to the old man. “By the way, my name is Leor and thank you for making dinner.” He questioned if these were manners. Four years was a long time to not have a real conversation.
His teeth spread like a perfectly built white wall. “It is your food, and you do look puzzled! I won’t confuse you further.” He stood up and bowed deeply, looking up as if he did not want to remove his eyes. “My name is Reficule, a mercenary that seeks paid jobs! My specialty lies in the most difficult of tasks and seeking things beyond the supernatural. Things that make the darkness stir and things only your dreams can see.”
Leor stared wide eyed, completely bemused of Reficule. He reached down and took the steaming meat, smelling it in suspicion. The aroma massaged his nostrils with hints of smoke and barbeque. He tossed it into the fire. It all smelled too good for comfort.
The odd man continued speaking with power in every syllable. “I have come to the conclusion you are one who needs someone like me. You sit here alone on this deserted mountain. In the mornings you promptly take innocent traveler’s cargo from them. Do you enjoy this sad agenda of thievery?”
Leor looked slightly annoyed in thought. Who did this Reficule think he was? Classifying his life with such ease. He wanted to challenge his point, but the realization of his missing sword pushed him toward a steady approach. “I am comfortable here and don’t want to be bothered. I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.” Then he started making his way to the cabin door. Suddenly, the brand on his back lit up in a fiery pain. The sting shot through his bones.
Leor grabbed over his shoulder, wincing, and turned to face Reficule.
His beaming smile coolly rested. “What happened? Your body disagreeing with you? I am here to offer you a proposition. I need a bodyguard to accompany me to the next town, have you heard of Bandit’s Bay? It is a ring of pirates and thieves. What’s more is you could find a life for yourself there instead of hanging around here, waiting for people to show up! So how about it young lad, are you up for the challenge? You will be rewarded for your efforts of course.”
Leor weighed the decision as he looked deeper into the pines and sat back down on a nearby log. Whatever survival required of him, he did. His mantra bended though. The rejection of that belief on a wild choice didn’t suit him. But how long had it been since he made a truly wild choice? His thoughts from that morning returned. His dream from that day haunted him.
Reficule pulled out a bamboo flute and started to play a cryptic tune as the green fireflies became even more numerous than before. His song reached the trees and the wind picked up, blowing back and forth, rustling the leaves and making the branches creak. The relaxing air moved with the melody and rejuvenated Leor’s tired body. He stopped playing and looked at Leor, glaring into the fire embers as if in a trance. “I will let you sleep on it my good man. If you agree, we shall leave first thing in the morning! Good night.” He got up, chucked the cougar meat into the fire and tapped on the table. It quickly folded into a nice square shaped object no bigger than a book. He swiped it up and walked into his wagon cart, immediately lighting upon his entry.
Leor ran grubby fingers through his greasy hair. He looked around as the green fireflies lit up periodically and pondered the decision to nature’s light show. His life would consist of hunting, fishing, and growing old on the lowly mountain. No guidance had ever reared its head, nowhere for him to begin. He was comfortable up there though. The circular thoughts consumed him until he eventually got up. The fire blew out as if waiting for him.
Leor noticed his katana, with the sheath removed, leaning against his cabin. The inscription, The Path of Protection, shone in the night. He grabbed the sword and walked inside. His tired body collapsed into bed and drifted off to sleep, the unchanging memories of his past ripped into his mind again. He stood among the leaders of his people. The bestowed teachings of the Guardians echoed through his dreams. “Protect the empire, protect your values, and protect the way of the Guardian Tribe!” The Head Guardian’s face appeared from the dream’s darkness, looking at Leor once more. His mouth formed the powerful words again. “Protect them!”
“I’m sorry!” Leor sat upwards, definitely awoken. But he looked around, not in his bed. The place shook around him. He could hear the clopping of hoofs and the rolling sound of wagon wheels on dirt. “You have got to be kidding me!” Surrounded by many different contraptions and dark looking gadgets, he struggled up to the front of the wagon. His panicked eyes peered out to a road far from his lonely mountain. The black and white lined horses ran at full speed in the intense sunshine.
“Good morning Leor, I thought we’d get an early start!” Reficule’s wide grin looked down on him from the driver’s seat. He cracked the reins with glee.
Leor’s expression of bewilderment turned to frustration fast. “What do you mean an early start? I didn’t even give you my answer, I want to go back! This is ridiculous…”
The old man gave the annoying laugh Leor despised. “Oh, who are you kidding? Of course you were going to say yes! I have gathered some of your ragged clothing and that sharp, pointy object and put them in a bag in the back labeled with an L. Come up here and get comfortable. We have an all day ride if we want to make it to Bonsai Valley before nightfall.”
“You’re out of your mind! It is I not WE. There is no WE!” Leor shouted and hurried back in the wagon. He found the bag with an oversized red L on it, quickly opening it to a bundle of clothes. Junk. Discarding it, he anxiously dug through the junk. The familiar hilt came into view and he sighed with relief. He pulled the sword out and fastened the sheath to his waist. After scrambling back to the front while fitting his boots, he crawled up onto the platform and glared at the old man sitting next to him. “Listen buddy, I never agreed to this. Turn around immediately or I’ll be forced to make you.”
Reficule shook his head. “Ok buddy, because we all know that worked like a charm last time!”
Leor cringed at his misdirection. “We… I mean I am going west correct?” he wondered out loud.
Reficule smiled. “Yes, of course, you didn’t expect us to go east to Bandit’s Bay. Why that would take us to the end of Ceisoty, the start of the ocean, and around the world!”
Leor smirked sarcastically back. “Well then I’ll see you!” His rebellious ego jumped off the cart. “I’ve found my way before. I can do it again.”
Reficule quickly tugged on the reins. The horses abruptly stopped. “We do not have time for this nonsense. Get on this wagon now!”
“So you can’t go on without me can you? You need my assistance don’t you?” Leor cheekily replied.
“No, I can very well go on without you. It’s just that this area is crawling with coelophysis!”
“What in the underworld are you talking about, coelowhats, you’re insane,”
Leor trampled off the path into the woods. He realized he must be on the west peaks of the series of mountains he knew as Roodly Heights. “When I ran from the town of Yodor, there was no way of trekking this far. Great, now where? Frock my life.” He continued down the mountain, straying further from the path. He heard Reficule yelling something about his destiny. Ignoring the crazy talk, he continued to justify himself. “I don’t care, even though my answer probably would have been yes, that senile, old man had no right in capturing me. I’ve been tossed around enough in my lifetime. I will not put up with it anymore.”
Leor made his way down the hill and thought he heard something rustle in the bushes. Stray squirrel or something, he reasoned. Aggravation pushed aside his survival instincts.
A small creature jumped out of the foliage. It stood about one foot tall and had a small green reptilian body with a crane-like neck stretching out to its head, sniffing the air. The red beady eyes of the creature peered at Leor, while its two short claws stirred. It made several clicking sounds and scampered back into the brush.
“No problem, just a tiny dinosaur,” he muttered and pushed the other direction through the forest beyond the afternoon.
He winced as he scraped his leg on some thorny vine. The thick brush, combined with the twisting rubber trees made this area not so enjoyable to tread through. The waning light faded from behind the trees, it wasn’t long before he scrambled to find some shelter. He kept hiking and hoped to clear the dense brush. His mouth began to feel parched. Instantly regretting not stealing some water from the batty old kook, he tried to focus on finding a spring or something.
The clearing came and the entire tree line stopped. A vast pasture spread out before him. The winding trees of the forest circled around the plain forming a wall. The tall grass swayed in the wind. Fresh valley scents of weeds mingling with flowers whipped passed him. The sky scorched as the sun went down.
“It might not hurt to sleep under the stars tonight. I’ve spent too much time hiding underneath my canopy of leaves,” Leor insisted at the expansive splendor. He knew he had to stay by the wall of trees for protection. No water in view, he thought, but there must be some in the valley. The plain would be too difficult to cross at night. His exposed body was an easy target for any predator. Any dinosaur with sharp teeth and a keen wit. But water needed to be found first thing the next day. No water, no life.
He collected hunks of deadwood, tinder, and patiently started a fire with the friction of some split hardwood. His weary back sloped against the nearest moss covered log. His hands groped for the sheath on his belt and took off his katana. He set it down next to him and unsheathed it to stare at the inscription, mocking him. The Path of Protection. With a look of disdain, he slammed the blade back in its home and set the sheath beside him. The fire crackled and sparked, overtaking the fuel he had strategically placed. His eyelids became heavy. He was soon in an exhausted sleep.
Chapter 2- A Path of the Past
Leor awoke with a jerk and noticed a small dinosaur, like the one the day before, down by his feet. It bit down harshly on his foot.
“Ah, what the?” He pulled his feet back.
The creature clicked and bobbed its head threateningly.
His arm slowly stretched out and picked up the katana next to him.
Three more jumped out of the bushes and hissed.
Leor drew his sword in a flash and cut off the middle one’s head. The miniature reptiles dived at him. He cut them down one by one. Another darted out from a tree in back of him and jumped, biting his leg. He winced as the small razor like teeth sliced him open. The blue blade of his sword quickly flashed, cutting the predator clear in half. Backing into a corner of rocks, he thought back to what Reficule said on the cart. “These must be the Coelothings.”
More swarmed out of the underbrush and surrounded the area. All their beady eyes locked on Leor’s every movement. They rushed in at once, perfectly maneuvered.
Angered, he unleashed one big swing. A rush of light shone from the blade! The blue wave sent the coelophysis sprawling.
The ones that survived limped up and glared at their supposed meal. Looking cheated, they ran back into the brush.
Leor raised the sword in awe, the blade glowing from the strange occurrence. It felt as if part of him entered the katana and shot out at the oversized lizards. He marveled as the sword vibrated slightly and returned to normal. The humming noise ceased and the light dimmed from the blade. The sword scraped against its sheath as Leor put it away. He sat down, leaning against the log by the still glowing embers. “Why did the sword just protect me? I’ve never seen it- oh no-”
A feeling of forgotten regret washed over him.
A memory lodged deep inside his mind tugged hard on his conscience. He tried to fight it. He stared at the sheath and the hidden horror inside. His katana brought great joy of where he came from, but also a realization of what he had become. What he had done. “It was not my fault.” He threw the sword across the dirt. “Frock them, it was never my fault.”
His stomach wretched.
Leor tried to focus on a logical explanation for his stomach like breakfast. So he gathered all the dead creatures. He blew the fading coals, adding sticks to make a low, hot cooking fire. Sorrowful emotions could kill, he pondered. So could not getting water. Survival meant focus.
“These things aren’t bad,” he decided, chewing on some blackened meat found on the lean reptiles. “But where to now?” he said quietly, wiping his stubble. The sun had risen shortly before his encounter with the coelophysis. His instinct pointed to the sun. Mid morning, he thought as he studied the sky. Finishing his meal, he kicked dirt on the fire. “I need to get some fluids in me before I faint from lack of water. Lake, stream, anything…” he concluded and grabbed his discarded sword.
Leor looked out on the vast ocean of grass. Its hills like waves searching for a steady rhythm in the wind. He spotted a group of long branching trees on the savannah and started out with hope. “I wonder what happened to crazy Reficule?” he remarked and chuckled, but shook the feeling as he neared the peak of the hill blocking his view of the plains. His strained legs reached the top, revealing the group of trees. “Exactly what I thought. A decently large lake, with its inhabitants.”
Leor crouched and studied the scene. Massive gray dinosaurs with plates of armor and sharp horns rested in the morning sun and drank on one side of the sparkling lake. On the opposite side, there stood yellow and brown blotched creatures with long slender necks. He had never seen such enormous beasts as the ones on the far end. They had long necks as well, but were gigantic and bluish gray.
“These monstrous creatures could easily reach the tops of even the largest oak trees.”
They moved and he could feel the earth stir.
“This world will never cease to impress me.”
Leor trudged down the large hill to find his place in this ecosystem and unclothed, saving his shirt. Then rushed and dove into the water. His mane broke the surface. Refreshed. He spread his arms like a frog to the shore. Scooping up some muddy water, he used a piece of his shirt as a filter and poured the cool liquid down his parched throat.
Looking down, he saw some fish rushing back and forth in a school. School… Images flashed through his mind of the city of Yodor. Bad memories pushed back, swam forward of his so called Ma and Pa and his school. He slapped the water as he complained to his imaginary companion. “Those people I had been given to, like a dog after being found on the side of the street, were despicable. Oh, they made sure I heard the story a thousand times. It was drilled into me by those slave drivers everyone referred to as my caretakers. They sent me to that school of hypocrites. They deserved what happened, what I did…” His voice trailed out, losing its comfort. Blue eyes burned from the old, forgotten emotions, but kept clear as his scarred physique plunged under the water again.
Leor returned to shore and noticed a disturbance in the water near the reeds on his left. He reached land and turned a little to see something shoot out of the brush. Shock paralyzed his nerves.
A huge, thick skinned fiend edged out and glared at him. Its long, dark green body followed by its broad tale locked in place. The vicious head belonged to cold eyes, staring through him. A gaping mouth, only partly opened, revealed razor sharp teeth. The reptile gave a long, drawn out hiss.
Leor inched over to his pile of clothes and his katana. The massive creature darted out quickly to meet him as he snatched up his sword and drew it. He cut the beast across the eyes that concentrated onto the meal before it. Grazed by its teeth, his molars grinded as the blood ran down his leg.
The beast snarled and drew back into its dwelling of reeds, not expecting to be blinded by shocking pain.
Leor wrapped his rough animal skin vest around the wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. This wound would be deadly if he couldn’t find his way back to the mountains in the next day or so. He peered around for a sign. There were mountains beyond the pasture, but were they his? The only hope was to keep trekking forward. At least a good shelter would protect him from another attack… maybe.
Clothed and his precious sword returned to its sheath, Leor walked towards the mountainous shadows in the backdrop. His tired legs climbed the mounds of the pasture and continued trekking northeast. Miles passed. The flowing hills of the plain turned into a marshy swampland. He trekked through humid air and damp mud. The afternoon sun disappeared behind web-like trees. He ate left over coelophysis and drank from a water pouch he had made from the rest of his animal hide vest. The patches of leftover sky turned from bright blue to grayish. A fog settled in as the sun began to set.
Leor’s stomach seized and he flinched with the pain as he kept on hiking. “I should have boiled that drinking water,” he nitpicked, “The middle of a swamp is nowhere to set up camp.”
The discomfort did not stop him though. He continued his hike along the soggy ground. The mountains he searched for were nowhere. His pride had made him lost. But he couldn’t stop.
Shadows seemed to lurk beyond the haze.
Particles of water clung to his lungs. Leor could barely breathe through the thickness of the fog. He couldn’t find one reason for this climate to exist. His weary behind finally retired on a rotting stump. Skeletal trees all around looked down upon him like they wanted to consume the lone traveler. The hanging moss on their limbs loomed like great bearded judges awaiting his defeat.
A crack heard to the right, Leor spun his head to inspect the sound.
Nothing but my exhausted butt, he thought, but another crack sounded to the left. By then it had grown dark. The black shroud of fog made it hard to see into the night. He squinted trying to make out a figure rushing away.
A bite on his neck and then another on his arm.
Leor knew that bite. “Mosquitoes… yet another thing to add to the list of things I hate about swamps. Yodor had a swamp. That damned town. Everyone shunned me as the outsider I was. ‘Born by barbarians’ they used to say. Yodor is full of nothing but the well to do and the well looked after. They deserved it, a jolt to their normal society. Screw them frockers. I did what I did. I’m not sorry.” He looked down at the sword on his belt and sulked again with mixed feelings.
The shadowy figure from moments ago reappeared in front of him.
Leor stood and locked eyes with the ferocious dinosaur treading out of the fog. Its dual clawed feet sunk into the ground. One of the middle claws perked up with every step as it moved closer. It wasn’t much bigger than him, but looked far fiercer. Its serpent like tail whipped back and forth as the grey feather covered body swayed. Keeping its narrow head completely steady, it let out a terrifying screech. The nostrils of the creature inhaled heavily. It clicked its mouth full of pointed teeth. Its small arms couldn’t do much damage with three twitching claws each. But he focused on the terrifying jaws and talons.
Leor drew his katana slowly as he whispered in frustration, “Raptor,” and waited for the monster to attack.
Suddenly the feathers stood up on the back of its neck and it lunged forward.
Leor ducked, evading the clap of the sharp teeth snapping at his exposed head and turned the sword inward, thrusting into the creature’s chest.
The monster screamed and fell limp on top of Leor.
He quickly grabbed a handful of the wispy feathers and threw the creature off.
Another horrifying fiend darted out of the darkness toward him from the right. More raptors lunged from his left.
He bent down, slicing through a monsters tough, armor like legs.
It didn’t stop the beast. Sharp teeth dug into Leor’s left shoulder.
He grimaced and stabbed the ferocious reptile in the throat.
They came in a premeditated attack from all sides.
Leor glanced around, semi-blinded by pain. No! He had to focus: two on his right, one on his left.
They charged in and he released anger into the vibrating blade. It began to glow bright and shone like a star among the murky scene! Leor felt the blue rays of light cut into the raptors and force them to retreat. His emotion continued pouring out into his weapon!
His right thigh exploded in pain. The phenomenon ended and the glow vanished.
Leor swung the blue katana backwards into the body of another one of the creatures biting into his leg. It had snuck up behind him!
The monster locked down harder into his muscle and hissed.
Leor screamed harshly and pulled out the blade. He put all his force into one clear slash, cutting through the raptor’s neck and severing the head.
With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Leor ripped the monster’s head off his thigh. The blood poured out. He felt the darkness thicken and death creeping slowly on him.
So he ran.
He didn’t know why, but something told his legs to keep stretching out in front of the other. The pain overtook his body as he rushed through the haze. Chills and pulses shot up his leg as he ran, each step with the right felt like one more chomp by the raptors teeth.
Thick fog, swampland, but nothing more. A chill crept through his spine, longing for defeat, but his demise raced behind him as the humid air weighed down his lungs. About to give way to the darkness, a massive white stone wall loomed in front of him. Black circles shrouded his vision, but he made out a grey robed, hooded person standing by a wooden door in the huge wall.
The black braids of the female monk fell lightly on her shoulders. Her pale face showed surprise as she pulled back her hood. She dropped a brown bottle in shock as the beaten traveler limped forward mouthing, “Help… me.”
Leor felt his feet get stuck in the swampy mud. His defeat gripped him, but his stubbornness wouldn’t let him die in a swamp. He collapsed with a final lunge forward.
The grey robed women grabbed his arms to lift him, but another raptor darted out from the marsh. Sparkling blue light shot from her hands and downed the ferocious reptile in an electric wave.
Leor watched in awe.
The beast twitched as it steamed.
A welcome smile spread her kind face. “Let’s get you fixed up, shall we? Just don’t tell anyone I was drinking rum,” she mumbled, giggling.
He tried to speak, but fainted into darkness.
Writing the Path 