A full-bodied aroma saluted Hanor on waking, it was still dark, the fire spitting with life. He had no idea how long he had been asleep. No dreams hounded him, his tender joints an instant reminder of where he was. Rested, he looked across at Kifter who sat staring into the small fire.
“I am sorry, I must have fallen asleep,” he apologised, not yet ready to leave the luxury of his precious bed.
Kifter’s glowing countenance smirked. “You obviously needed it.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Hanor offered, unconvinced he was actually prepared to move from his roost. “I am sure I could manage something from here,” he said, stretching an arm out half-heartedly.
“No, you rest a while longer…, we will be moving out shortly.”
“Moving out!”
“Yes, my friend. You have been asleep from the moment you laid your head down until now. It is just before sun-up.”
Falling back into his makeshift bed, Hanor groaned. Refreshed as he was, it felt like they had only stopped a short time ago. Desiring the tranquillity of slumber, where the energy for another turn’s ride was to come from he did not know. Not an early person, he was unlikely to become one in the foreseeable future.
Responding to his woes, the Fife tried easing the strife. “We will eat first… of course.”
Leaving the woods, the fresh morning was clear and cloudless. The only evidence of yester-turn’s downpour was the softness of the terrain. Long periods of running and the occasional walks kept the pace steady, the morning trouble free. Restless about Nole and Bane, Hanor tried enjoying the sunshine to stay upbeat, its warm rays medicinal.
Slowing for a quick break at half-turn of the day, Hanor felt at ease with his travelling friend. “Yes, friend,” he thought. Making that bed last night deserved respect.
Ambling along, the surrounding wild-grass now shorter, the respite gave Hanor the chance to find out more about his travelling companion. “What is Fion like?”
“Fion…?” Kifter said, twitching his narrow, elongated ears. “Fion is very different from other places in The Freelands,” he began, reminiscing. “Seasons are dominated by hot, dusty dry spells, which are frequent due to the lack of rain. Supported by the Cropping Village of Sif situated to the north, Fion would not survive without its resources.”
“Why do your people stay there then?”
Winking, a question asked countless times, “We Fifanians are shrewd,” he said, tapping his head. “This is our true crop.”
“That I can agree with.”
“Fion is not the most elegant of places, but we cope with what we have. Millseed is our main crop, for few others can survive the conditions. We do not envy northern cities, we just see them as places of opportunity. Your people do not know how lucky you are. You have so much, and yet, how many of you appreciate it?”
Hanor did not comment, his overindulgent upbringing appearing distasteful.
“I am not being critical, but until you experience difficult situations, it is hard to see it as it really is.” Kifter unexpectedly stopped. “Wait,” he ordered, searching ahead.
Following his gaze, Hanor could not see anything. “What is it?”
Motioning for quiet, the cagey Fife turned his head, listening. A slight breeze was the only evidence of motion.
Hanor waited. The two kyboes went quiet as if suspecting something too.
“Follow me,” Kifter urged, cautious. “Do not talk unless you see anything.”
The Fife urged his mount on, checking the surrounding terrain. Falling in behind, a concerned Hanor stayed alert. For long moments, nothing changed, the slow pace adding to the suspense. Trusting his companion knew what he was doing, Hanor gasped when spotting a small shape on the horizon. “Kifter!”
“I know,” he said, concentrating on the object.
Tricky to place a size or distance, it did not seem to be moving. Kifter took his time, not in a hurry for surprises. Vigilant, Hanor felt for his short blade, noting his own keen response. What was it? The riders decided to investigate.
Two lines of huge dirty white curves arced over from out of the ground towards each other like massive fingers of bone. Other fragments lay scattered nearby, with one enormous section isolated further out. Dawning on Hanor what it was, the skeleton of a large creature, its flesh had been stripped to the bone.
Halting when near, the Fife searched for clues to shed light on the mystery. Sniffing the breeze, a low murmur admitted Kifter’s distaste. Sleek eyes continued searching, the signs not good.
Hanor waited, this cautious fellow from the south proving why he was here. Not wishing to distract his guide, he tried working out what creature it was. Its ribcage, which had alerted them to its location, thronged, the breeze swirling through it like an invisible musician playing a sorry tune. Eerie, an empty atmosphere permeated the region. Untroubled when animals were killed at home prior to cooking, but this felt like a tragedy, a sacrifice to the unholy.
“I do not like this,” Kifter grimaced, staying seated on his Kyboe.
“What was it?”
“This is a sign of things to come. Do you see those marks?” the Fife said, pointing at grooves scoring different sections of bone. Marks resembling the sweepings of a claw were fiendish. This creature’s death must have been horrific.
“What could have done this?”
“I said it was best that you did not know everything right away,” Kifter explained, now forced into something he wished to avoid. “This is the work of… Nyshifters.”
“Ny… shifters…?”
Talking like someone mourning the death of a friend, the Fife glanced skywards. “They are vicious monsters that haunt the night sky. I will explain more later, but for now, we should leave this place of death. There has been great suffering here.”
“There has,” Hanor agreed, sensing its pain. “What was it?”
“This was an animal not commonly known. A mysterious creature of immense power, it was one of a pair. Some say they are creatures born of the ground by the forces governing this world. Rarely are they seen. People consider themselves blessed if they do. This Hanor…, was a Great White Freeloaver. These remains have been here for some time.”
Halting again when reaching the massive skull out on its own, a huge hole at the front of its head generated more unease.
“The Nyshifters have taken its precious horn,” the Fife said.
More claws marks suggested the horn had not been easy to free.
Leaving the macabre scene, the two continued on their way. Difficult to justify such slaughter, it was Hanor’s first real taste of what evil could achieve. ‘A Nyshifter!’ Without knowing what they looked like, a shudder ran through him. Capable of killing such a huge beast, what hope did he have? Sighing, he was just glad Nole was not here.
Thankful for the early morning freshness, Nole and Bane welcomed the reprieve from the drabness of yester-turn. Drinking a hot broth, hopes were high.
“We might catch them today,” Bane said, encouraged.
“We might,” was all Nole would say.
Heading out, burning limbs made the going tough from the outset. In the past, such pains would have paralysed them enough to stay in bed, but their goal was a luring motivator. Undulating hills levelled out, the horizon stretching into the distance. Passing a small wood over to their left, multicoloured trees and bushes clothed the landscape.
Taking a short breather for something to eat, they continued into the after-turns, convinced success was only a matter of time. A shape out to their left broke the monotony of their ride.
“What is that?” Bane pointed.
Peering across, a fearful hope rising, Nole pulled up. Kyboes panting, the two stared across at the mysterious object. Some way off, it was difficult to see what it was.
“Shall we take a look?” Bane asked, unusually cautious.
“I think... we have no choice,” Nole said, inspecting the area.
Approaching the remains, its peculiar shape and size beckoning them nearer, huge curved bones revealed the animal was once a formidable creature. Both boys stepped down, transfixed by its size.
“What do you think it was?” Nole asked, reaching out. Touching one of its ribs, both hands could not encircle it.
“I have never seen anything like it,” Bane said, kicking at the huge bones scattered on the floor. “Look at these score marks,” he said, running three fingers along one deep groove. “What could have done this?”
Glancing over, Nole shrugged, concerns for his brother re-igniting. “Whatever it is, it cannot be helped now. We are wasting time,” he said, returning to his mount. “Let us get going.” Climbing up, he was in no mood to dither.
With a final kick of a rib, Bane joined him. “Very strange,” he said, turning to his friend when in his seat.
Just about to leave, a sudden groaning howl shook them.
“What… was that?” Nole said, alarmed.
The noise, like a creature in the throws of death, wailed again. Staring at the skeleton, fearing its spirit had returned to haunt them, but the cry seemed to be everywhere.
A sharp movement behind panicked the two boys. Catching sight of a beast charging their way, its enormous white body shimmering in the after-turn sun, muscles strained with every bounding stride. A great hulk of a frame three times the size of a Kyboe, it stampeded towards their exposed position as if they were the ones who had slaughtered its mate. Wailing again, shaking its mighty head from side to side, the prominent horn perched on top swayed back and forth, an unmatchable weapon of power and destruction.
Covering half the distance before Nole and Bane snapped into action, they turned and fled. Coming up from the south-east, the task of finding Hanor was now lost to terror.
Glancing over their shoulder, two giant orbs, black and unblinking, glared back. Toughened, pale skin reflected in the sunlight as four mighty legs pounded the ground. Once a resplendent creature of power and beauty, but such characteristics were now lost to grief.
“What… is it?” Bane screamed, horror scrawled across his face.
“Just go,” Nole fired back.
Looking again, fearing the worst, if it was gaining they had no chance. A stone’s throw behind, the monster twitched its long, wide snout before wailing again. A deep resounding groan, its white horn, larger than a man’s forearm, continued to thrust at the air. Covering the terrain rapidly, heavy snorts reached tender young ears, timely reminders of their unforgivable naiveté. To venture into the wild, they should expect to get hurt. A tantalising pursuit, when was it to end? Tears started flowing, the two struggling lads realising their demise was a possibility.
“No… no… no,” Bane cried. Gritty and determined, “I am sorry,” he screamed, as if the beast might understand.
Nole too started yelling. Dread pulsing, their cries echoed into the emptiness. Blurring their vision to anything apart from themselves and the pursuing beast, parched throats hampered their calls. Sometimes it drew close, but on other occasions they were convinced it was giving up the chase. Tormented, who could stop this monster?
“Help!”
Nole’s heart missed a beat when checking behind, convinced it was starting to flag. The gap was growing, more so than at any other time. Bane too looked, the relief obvious. Unwilling to slow at this point, it was too good to believe. As if tuning into their momentary respite, to their horror, it wailed and renewed its charge.
“No… no…!” Tears poured again, desperation surging. Exhausted, their Kyboes started floundering from the strain. What powers drove this mad beast? Starting to close again, lapping up the soil as though it had just started, what could they do?
A grim notion emerged through the shadows of fear. Tapping into the same dreadful idea, peering across at each other, there was no other choice. To head in different directions meant one sacrificing for the other. The horrific thought shook both, tired hearts aching at what they had to do.
Snapped from their distress, a sudden movement to their left startled them. Turning in their seat, they watched confounded when Hanor rode right by them, charging at the beast. Unfolding so quickly they could not believe their eyes, was it an illusion, a trick of despairing minds?
Pulling up at this act of madness, they turned, astounded by Hanor’s behaviour. Expecting the creature to run him down, it faltered, coming to an abrupt halt. Hanor stopped too, halfway between them and the beast. Starting back, Nole and Bane paused, fear striking their nerve. Not even acknowledging they were there, Hanor appeared transfixed by the mystical animal.
Trying to catch his attention, Nole gulped, what was Hanor doing? Surprised that the creature seemed to be scrutinising his brother, easing off as if comforted, how could this be? Torn away from desperation, they stared on, the beast panting from its explosive jaunt. Hanor needed to move back, but nothing escaped through Nole’s quivering lips. His brother and the beast seemed entranced by each other. Pulling up nearby, Hanor’s travelling companion seemed equally aghast.
Ready to pounce if it moved, Kifter rotated the sharp hunting blade at his side, deciding the beast’s eye would be their only chance. Keenest of throwers, he could not afford to miss. Still dazed by the swiftness of the unfolding drama, duty tempting him to put himself between Hanor and the animal, but wisdom suggested the creature would attack if he did. Checking the other two lads, their bewilderment reflected his own. Trance-like, Hanor still did not move.
Rolling its enormous dusty white head, the creature snorted again, displeased at this outcome. Thrusting its enormous horn skywards, another call followed. Unforgettable, that sound penetrated proud hearts. Howling once more, the cry seemed less threatening this time. Further grunts proved its displeasure but nothing more. Half-turning, the Freeloaver stared at Nole and Bane as if angry at being stripped of justice. Looking at Hanor for a final time, connecting on a deeper level, to the group’s bewilderment, it turned full circle before setting off the way it had come. Not once looking behind, it headed back towards the open grave of its loved one.
Watching the beast disappear over the rise, they waited for Hanor to turn and explain himself. What had happened here?
“Hanor!” Kifter called, finally breaking the deadlock. The young man still did not move. “Hanor!” he repeated, urging his kyboe forward. Approaching, the two lads broke from their trance, edging along with him. Acting as though they were not even there, Hanor’s wide eyes stared straight through them.
“Hanor…, are you all right?” Nole asked, worried. Suspicious of the stranger’s presence, he let it lie for now. Dazed by the miraculous incident, he had not expected to find his brother in such an explosive way. “Hanor…!” he said, pulling up beside him. Conveying that void of emptiness first witnessed by the lake, his brother could or would not acknowledge his presence. “Give him a moment,” Nole said to the troubled Fifanian seated opposite.
“Why is he not responding?” Bane asked from behind, moving around to the front. His friend appeared distant, as if no anxieties could seep into his inner world. If the creature were to return, Bane doubted his friend would care. “What is the matter with him?”
“I have seen this before,” Nole said, staying calm. “By the lake.”
“By… the lake?”
“I did not like it then either,” he said, analysing Hanor’s detached features. Patting his brother’s arm, Hanor’s grip on the reins was tight, knuckles turned white. He still did not respond. “Hanor!” Nole tried again, gripping his arm. He was not blinking either. So absorbed by the experience, when he finally did it startled Nole. The first sign of life, just thankful at being here for him, it was all he needed to justify his decision to come. Hanor’s travelling companion looked hesitant with no idea how to respond. “Hanor!” Nole tried again. “Hanor…, can you hear me?” Shaking his arm, his brother blinked wide as if coming out of a stupor.
Not liking this at all, especially the two newcomers, Kifter could not think straight. Recalling the bizarre details, upon hearing the cries for help; both boys riding adjacent to their position but further north, what triggered Hanor to react as he did left him guessing. Unable to keep up, where Hanor’s kyboe got the speed he had no idea either. Following like a second rate fool, he thought his young charge had lost all sense, and was riding to his doom. Nevertheless, witnessing the Great White Freeloaver pull up was astonishing, disbelieving his young charge was still alive.
Observing the two boys, this was the last thing he expected. Picking out a few characteristics resembling Hanor, deducing the slim one to be his brother and the other, with dark curly hair, perhaps a friend, this was not good.
“Who are you?” Not seeking a confrontation just yet, their concerns were clearly for Hanor’s well-being. Accepting there was no threat, an underlying feeling warned him of future complications. What were two young men doing this far from home? He knew the answer but did not want to face it.
Both boys stared back, suspicious.
“And who might you be?” Bane countered, judging he was the reason behind why Hanor had left in the first place.
“My name is unimportant,” Kifter said, picking up on the tone.
“Then neither is mine,” Bane scoffed, fatigue catching up on him. Not accepting this person was somebody Hanor actually chose to accompany, it was an immature response.
“Bane!” Nole warned. “Show some respect.”
Huffing, the edge to his voice remained. “There you are…, you now know my name, what is yours?”
“Who are you and how do you know this young man?” Kifter got straight to the point. Indicating Hanor, the lad was coming to his senses.
“He is his brother,” Bane said, as if it warranted admission to be here.
Calculating it already, this was going where Kifter feared. “Why are you here?”
“We have come to support Hanor,” Bane said, proud of his loyalty. “Why else? Just two of you travelling on your own, we knew sooner or later you would need assistance.”
“It is you who needed the help,” Kifter said, irritation evolving to annoyance. “I suspect you do not understand the reasons behind Hanor’s decision to come.”
Hanor peered around, the bickering ending. Three caring expressions gaped back, impatient for answers. What had just happened? Whispering questions merged, blurring his thoughts. Body tingling from the experience, sensitive pulses in his heart felt surreal.
Details of the beast returned, so too the plight to save his brother and friend. Looking to where it went, “It has gone back to its mate,” he said, unperturbed by how he knew. Soothing, the throb of his heart refused to ignite any fears. Energised, he felt renewed.
“Are you… all right though?” Nole asked, anxious, letting go of his arm. Reservations about just how close he and Bane had come to death escaped him, focusing on his brother instead.
“Er… yes, I… am,” Hanor stammered, still somewhat detached from it all. What was happening to him?
“How are you feeling?” Kifter asked, putting to one side any qualms.
“Peculiar,” Hanor replied. “But… good.”
“What happened to you?”
“I do not… know,” Hanor said, unable to describe it.
Vulnerable yet unruffled, Nole felt uncomfortable talking in the company of strangers.
“We need to set up camp,” Bane said, taking control. Ignoring the Fife’s scrutiny, “There must be some shelter nearby,” he said, scanning the vicinity for a sizeable tree.