Chereads / Epheria / Chapter 5 - The Proving

Chapter 5 - The Proving

"QUIET NOW. QUIET! SETTLE DOWN." 

Erdhardt Hammersmith's booming voice carried through the market square, staving off competition from the deafening buzz that was synonymous with large crowds and a bit too much mead. Many new arrivals had made their way into The Glade over the past few days, and many more would arrive through the night. 

Erdhardt stood on a newly erected wooden stage that looked out over the market square; his huge frame made the thirty-foot-wide stage seem something more akin to a large podium. He waited for the noise to die down as the crowd turned their gaze upon him. There were three or four hundred people packed into the market square. Entire families came to celebrate the young men proving themselves – and to join in the celebrations afterward. 

"It is my honour to welcome you all to our village. Food and mead will be provided to all, as much as it takes to fill your bellies and warm your hearts!" 

The crowd erupted in a chorus of cheers. 

Rist caught Calen's attention and rolled his eyes in Dann's direction. 

Dann raised his tankard in the air, roaring his appreciation at the sky while his free hand was wrapped around the waist of a young woman from Ölm, evident by the way her hair was braided at the back in twisting knots. Rist and Calen had decided that they would steer clear of mead for the night. 

The Proving was going to be difficult enough without starting the day with drums banging in their heads. 

"As you all know," Erdhardt continued, "for centuries, the young men of the villages, in their eighteenth summer, gather here on the edge of Ölm Forest to take part in The Proving. They will spend three nights in the depths of the forest with only a knife and a bow. For these are the two things that will ensure they never go hungry. They must show that they understand how to survive on their own before we can allow them out into the world. So it has been, and so it will be. We go in groups – never less than two, and never more than four – to forge bonds that will last a lifetime; for no weight is too heavy when shared. But listen closely. Do not take this

lightly. Ölm Forest is a dangerous place at night, and there are larger things than wolfpines that roam its depths. It has claimed the lives of many." 

There was a momentary silence. The earlier ruckus died down as the crowd was swept up in Erdhardt's ominous words. "As such, it has long been the case that each group must return with the pelt of a predator. You must stand against what you fear – and conquer it. Only then will you pass The Proving, for everything you seek lies on the other side of fear. 

However, the group who returns on the fourth morning, after the third night, with the pelt of the most dangerous predator will be announced as the victors of The Hunt, and they will, of course, receive the victors' purse. 

"For tonight, drink heartily, eat well, and warm yourselves by the fire. 

Take advice from your fathers, better advice from your mothers, and laugh with your siblings. Tomorrow, you enter the forest as boys and return to us as men." 

Erdhardt raised his tankard of mead in the air, which was mimicked by the crowd. Those without tankards raised their closed fists. Calen felt a surge of pride flow through him as he crunched his fingers into a fist and thrust his hand into the air. A fire burned in the pit of Calen's stomach as Erdhardt spoke the blessings of the Gods. 

"May The Mother embrace you, 

and The Father protect you. 

May The Warrior guide your hand

and The Maiden guide your mind. 

May The Smith keep your blade sharp 

and The Sailor see you to safe shores." 

The sun had not yet risen above the mountains to the east, but Calen couldn't sleep. He stared off into the distance while he ran his knife over a small whetstone, again and again. 

"How sharp can a knife be?" Calen hadn't heard Ella come into the kitchen. 

Ella glared at Calen as he mimicked her, in as high-pitched a tone as he could reach. 

"You know that I can hear you, right?" She stepped out onto the porch, nudging Calen's shoulder with her own as she sat down beside him. She

handed him some bread and cheese, which he took with a half-hearted smile before returning his gaze to the hazy distance. 

"Sorry," Calen sighed, shrugging. 

Ella let a few moments pass before she spoke again. "You're thinking about Haem, aren't you?" 

The knife stopped moving back and forth across the whetstone. Calen hadn't even noticed that he was still sharpening the knife. He turned his head to answer Ella, but once he met her gaze, he immediately dropped his eyes to the floor, the air puffing out of his chest. He felt the soft touch of her hand at the side of his cheek as she slowly turned his head back up toward her face. 

"He would be proud, Calen. I might not say it to you often, but I'm proud. You're my brother, and you are a pain in my backside most of the time, but I am proud of you." She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. "Come on, let's go inside and have tea with Mam and Dad. Put your knife away until you're in the forest. It can't get any sharper." 

With that, she brushed the crumbs of bread off her dress, stood up, and walked back into the kitchen. Calen was sure that there would never come a day when he would understand Ella. One minute, she mocked him; the next, she told him she's proud of him. He hoped all women weren't like that.

He tossed the last of the bread and cheese into his mouth, sheathed the knife, and placed it back into his satchel. He then followed Ella into the kitchen, careful to put the whetstone back onto the shelf by the door. 

Freis and Vars entered the kitchen not long after the sun had crested the mountain. The morning light caused Calen to wince as he shuffled in his chair. 

Vars knuckled Calen's head affectionately. A warm smile rested on his face as he looked out at the rising sun and back towards Calen. There was an anxiety in the way Freis shuffled about the kitchen, pouring everyone deep mugs of Arlen root tea. 

"You know I hate Arlen root tea," Calen protested, his nose scrunching up into a ball at the earthy smell wafting from the mug. 

"Calen Bryer, you are about to go into a dangerous forest for three nights. 

It will be cold, dark, and wet. There are animals in there with teeth and claws. Arlen root will keep your mind focused. I am your mother. Drink your tea." 

Calen glared at Freis' back while he choked down a mouthful of poison that masqueraded as tea. Vars exchanged a look with Ella, and they both broke out in laughter, much to Calen's annoyance. 

"Okay, once we've all finished this delicious tea," Vars said, another laugh escaping him as Calen shot him a dirty look, "we should get going. 

The Havels will most likely be there already. I'm not so sure about Dann. I would say Tharn had to drag him out of bed this morning. Talked the ear off that poor Ölm girl last night before he passed out." 

That brought a smirk to Calen's face, which was swiftly wiped away by another mouthful of tea. 

By the time they had gathered themselves and set off towards the edge of Ölm Forest, the streets were alive with people. The sound of children playing blended with the spring birdsong, which crashed against the roll of wheels as traders moved their carts into position, trying to sell off the last of their wares. The Proving always brought a din of excitement with it to match the tense anticipation that hung in the air. 

Every so often, someone stopped Calen to wish him well and exchange a few words with Vars and Freis, commenting on what a fine young man Calen had become. He would have enjoyed the compliments had it been a different day. As it was, he nodded and thanked them, his mind busy on other things. 

"Okay, you head on, and I'll meet you at the forest," Vars said. "I figure I should probably check in on Tharn and Dann, make sure they are all set and ready to go. You know what they can be like." 

"Okay, dear." Freis kissed him on the cheek and continued to shuffle Calen and Ella through the streets. 

Once they made their way to the edge of the town, after being stopped for a pat on the back and a well-wishing smile every ten paces, the rest of the journey to the meeting point didn't take long. There were hundreds of people at the edge of Ölm Forest, gathered from all across the villages to witness the young men begin The Proving. The small red flag perched atop a wooden podium was meant to mark the meeting point, but it wasn't much use hidden in the throngs of people. 

"Calen, Freis, Ella, over here!" Calen would have recognised Elia Havel's shrill voice anywhere. She was a small, easily-excitable woman. 

Her chestnut brown hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, highlighting her high cheekbones and wide smile. Elia's bubbly demeanour was a contrast to

Lasch's stoic nature. Maybe they balanced each other out? It was hard to think what Elia would be like on her own if this was her balanced out. 

Elia pulled him into a tight hug, her slight frame capable of quite some strength when she was excited. "Oh, Calen, you boys are all so grown up. 

Look at you! You've lost all that baby fat." Calen winced as she pinched his cheek, the sincere smile never fading from her face. 

"Elia, I—" 

"And you've gotten so tall! You're almost as broad as your father now!" 

"Elia, you only saw me yesterday," Calen snapped, pushing away her probing hands. Her smile momentarily curled into a frown. 

Calen and Rist exchanged a brief nod before Elia's attention turned to Freis. 

"How are you this morning, Freis? Excited to see our young boys become young men? Our Rist is terribly excited as well. Aren't you, sweetie?" Elia turned her giddy smile towards her son, an expectant look on her face. 

Rist rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mother…" he huffed, a touch of exasperation in his voice. He aimed a mocking smile at Calen, then whispered, "She's been like this all morning. I know she's happy, but by the gods, I wish she could be happy in a less annoying way." 

"I'm in great spirits this morning, Elia. Thank you," Freis said. A disapproving look let Calen and Rist know that she had heard what Rist said. "It is indeed a proud day for every one of us. Where is Lasch? I would have expected him to be here already." 

"Ah, he is talking with Erdhardt, arranging everything for the festivities. 

Extra mead from Milltown, some fish from Salme, and I've heard rumours that Thorvan might be arriving with his light sticks," Elia said in a hushed whisper. "And Vars, is he on his way?" 

"Aye, he went to check on Tharn and Dann. Ylinda was out early this morning to pick Myril berries to dye her clothes, and you know what those two are like when left on their own." 

Elia raised an all-knowing eyebrow. "Oh, I do, all right. They would sleep right through the entire Proving if left to their own devices." 

"There they are now," Ella said, an amused tone in her voice. It didn't take long for Calen to see what had amused her. 

Vars, Dann, and Tharn were slogging their way through the crowd. Vars led the way. There was a gingerness in his step and a tentative smile

flickered across his face, which threatened to turn into a laugh. Tharn's mouth was set into a deep scowl as he marched ahead of Dann, turning his head around every few seconds to look behind him, as if he expected Dann to vanish into thin air. 

Dann trudged along behind the two men, dragging his feet through the grass as if lifting them to walk was more effort than he could manage. The mead-induced lethargy was evident with every strained movement. His eyes were sunken into deep wells, while his hair and clothes looked like he had slept in – and then been dragged out of – a bush. He let out an exaggerated sigh when they finally stopped in front of the group. 

A mocking laugh escaped Rist's mouth. "Dann, you look fantastic! You must have slept all night!" 

Dann snarled, his eyes narrowing and nose scrunching. It seemed all the effort he could muster. His usually quick tongue had deserted him. 

"Now, now, boys. Leave Dann alone. Although the hammer pounding inside his head is probably punishment enough, I'm sure Tharn has given him a tongue lashing for the ages," Freis said with a raised eyebrow. Tharn simply furrowed his brow and let out a frustrated huff of agreement. "Now that we are all here, how are you boys feeling? Have you everything you need?" 

"Well, all they're allowed to bring is a knife and their bows. So, if they forgot anything, then they have more to worry—" A slight raise in Freis's eyebrow let Ella know to end her sentence there. 

"Yes, I've got everything," Calen said. 

"Me too. I double-checked before we left the house," Rist answered. 

Tharn elbowed Dann in the ribs, which brought about a sharp grunt. 

"I've got everything," Dann coughed. 

Tharn reached into a sack he had slung around his back. "I almost forgot. 

These should fit perfectly. I only finished them the night before last." From the sack, he pulled two leather belts, handing one each to Rist and Calen. 

Calen ran his fingers over the belt. It was a rich umber brown, smooth to the touch and sturdy. Every stitch was neat and as close to perfect as could be. Tharn was widely known as one of the best tanners and leather craftsmen in all the villages. He could have easily sold the belts for two or three silver marks a piece to a trader heading for Gisa or Argona. 

"Thank you, Tharn. I don't—" Calen started. 

"Nothing needs be said, Calen," Tharn said. "We are family, the lot of us. 

Look after each other in there." 

Calen nodded, immediately fixing the belt around his waist. 

The idle chat continued for a while; they discussed what weather to expect over the next three nights, where the boys should set up camp, and other details that they had gone over a hundred times before. Calen's attention was waning when the crowd shifted towards the podium. 

The leaders of each of the seven village councils had assembled atop the podium. Four men and three women, with Erdhardt at their head. 

"It is great to see you all here, gathered in such numbers to see our young men off on their rite of passage," Erdhardt said. "This has long been a tradition in the villages, and I am proud to see it continue." 

Erdhardt stepped back into line with the other elders, giving them each a chance to make a short comment. Each spoke of pride, tradition, and honour; their words mimicked those of the one who spoke before them. 

"It is time," Erdhardt said, when each of the elders had said their piece. 

His voice rose above the chattering crowd. "Can all the groups please say their goodbyes and then move up to the brazier?" 

Calen turned to his mother and father and instantly had the wind knocked out of him as Freis pulled him into a hug so tight that it could have been used to incapacitate a bear. When she finally released him from her clutches, Calen found himself staring at his father. Vars simply placed his hands on Calen's shoulders and pressed his forehead gently against Calen's. 

"I love you, son." He placed a kiss on the top of Calen's forehead, and no further words were exchanged. 

"Try not to starve yourself in there," Ella said. "And remember not to let any poison Tharin leaves touch your skin." 

Calen laughed. "Love you too, sis." 

He slowly paced backwards, then turned around. Dann and Rist joined him once they had said their own goodbyes. 

"I genuinely wish my mother had even a tiny bit less energy." Rist laughed. Calen responded with a laugh of agreement while Dann only grunted. "Rough night, Dann? Maybe four or five too many meads?" 

"Oh, curse you, Rist. I had planned on going to bed a lot earlier. It was only meant to be one drink." 

"It's always only one drink with you," Calen said. 

The boys continued to joke together as they approached the brazier that marked the start of The Proving, nodding and saying hello to those they recognised along the way. Calen noticed Kurtis, Fritz, and Dennet Hildom about a hundred paces upward along the line. He felt a slight pulse of anger swell in his chest. He took a few long breaths and focused his attention back towards his friends, who were exchanging insults at their usual pace, with a few delayed responses from Dann. Calen shook his head as he watched the pair of them. 

A horn sounded behind them, followed swiftly by a flaming arrow shot overhead, streaking smoke behind it. The arrow landed firmly in the large brazier filled with oil-soaked wood. With a whoosh, the brazier erupted in a burst of flames. 

" The Proving begins," Erdhardt called out. 

All along the line, young men advanced towards the forest. Some took a bit more time than others, but eventually followed the lead of those before them. 

"Well," Calen said, letting out a breath that he had held in since the arrow ignited the brazier, "I suppose we'd better get going." 

Rist responded with a quick smile and a nod, swinging his bag over his shoulder. Dann grunted. Calen had a feeling that was the most conversation they were going to get out of him today. 

"We should try to find a stream as soon as possible to fill our waterskins," Rist suggested. 

Calen nodded; his eyes fixed on the treeline. As they reached the edge of the forest and made their way through its outer rim, Calen felt the familiar weight in the air with every breath he took. The dense moist air pressed down into his lungs. After about half an hour of walking, he began to acclimatise to the sensation a little – but not enough for his liking. 

"It's so strange," Rist remarked, inhaling deeply. 

"What do you mean?" Calen replied as he stumbled over the unearthed root of a gargantuan tree. 

"It's just odd how hard it is to breathe in here. The other woodlands around the villages don't seem to have the same effect." 

"Well, Therin always tells of how the giants ruled these lands and used magic to build this forest. He said that they used to sing to the trees and that they could create entire groves in just weeks. Maybe it's magic?"

"Surely you can't believe those fairy tales, Calen?" There was a mocking look on Rist's face. 

Calen frowned. "You can't really think that all the legends are lies? All Therin's stories, just spun on a wheel to entertain people? The Bards always talk about the Circle of Magii in the North, even the ones who call The Order traitors. Are they all lying?" 

Rist shrugged. "Maybe?" He pulled his mouth up into a frown. "I don't know, maybe there is magic somewhere far away from The Glade – and I'm not saying there is – but I can only believe what I can see. Not what some travellers tell us because they want our coin." 

"Oh, will you two shut up?" Dann groaned. "You're hurting my head. 

There should be a stream about half an hour's walk east. If you can be quiet until then, maybe some water might be able to uncloud my head." Rist and Calen laughed at Dann's sudden outburst, but agreed to follow him through the dense foliage as he led the way. 

It didn't take long before they heard the burbling of a small rivulet through the constant haze of forest sounds. Calen stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. If he focused, he could pick out each of the sounds on their own. The sweet chirps of small birds as they went about their day, oblivious to the world outside their own. The buzzing and clicking of the thousands of insects that ruled the forest floor. The cracking and snapping of branches broken under the weight of rabbits, deer, and the occasional kat flitting between the trees. 

"Calen… Calen!" Dann's voice pierced through the wall of sound. "Will you stop daydreaming? I'm thirsty, and we need to get to the cave before it gets too late. We don't want to be wandering through here in the dark." 

Calen opened his eyes, let out a soft sigh, and jogged after Dann and Rist. 

The few deer who were drinking at the rivulet when the boys arrived disappeared into the brush almost as soon as Calen laid eyes on them. Dann and Rist knelt down at the water's edge and dipped their waterskins in. A welcome silence replaced their usual back and forth as Dann continued to mope over his foggy headache. 

"Well, so far, so good," Calen said as he hunkered down beside Rist and dipped his waterskin into the rivulet. "No wolfpines in sight, none of the kats have taken a liking to us, and we haven't eaten any poison berries." 

"I like the positivity," Rist replied, "but we have a long way to go yet." 

The sunlight waned as they made their way through the forest. Calen's stomach ached. He had eaten nothing since that morning, when Ella had given him a morsel of cheese and bread. And judging by the fading light drifting through the canopy, that was quite a few hours ago. Dann took down a pair of rabbits with his bow as they hiked through the trees, but that would not be much meat to split between three of them. 

None of the animals seemed to pay them much heed at all as they traipsed their way through the forest. They spotted the occasional kat watching them from a distance, but they never came too close. According to Dann, they were only young, which worried Calen a little. Those "young" 

kats were already nearly the same size as Faenir. They hadn't seen a single wolfpine either, which Calen wasn't exactly disappointed about. The wild ones were not as friendly as Faenir was. 

Dann seemed to have recovered from the mead-induced body ache that had plagued him earlier in the day, and slowly, he became less brusque. 

"How long until we reach that cave, Dann?" Rist called out from a couple of feet behind the pair in front. 

"Shouldn't be more than a half-hour at this rate," Dann called back. 

Where to camp had been a topic of discussion many times in the days leading up to The Proving. They needed somewhere that had shelter from the elements but was also close to a water source. Having a source of water nearby was crucial. Not just for drinking; it would also be the easiest way for them to find dinner without having to go too far. There were fish in the river, and deer or rabbits needed water just as much as they did. A bit of patience, and they would be far from hungry over the next few days. 

"I can see it just up ahead," Dann called, picking up his pace. He gave a short shrug to his right shoulder to shift the two rabbits that dangled there into a less precarious position. 

Calen lifted his head from the forest floor and saw the trees open up slightly into a rocky clearing. A stream meandered through its centre; it was quite a bit larger than the rivulet they had stopped at earlier, but its pace was far more lackadaisical. 

On the other side of the stream, Calen saw what they had come for. The mouth of a small cave, nestled into the jagged rock face, smothered by the dense forest around it. It could easily have been missed by someone who wasn't looking for it. 

Without a word, Dann leapt from the bank of the river, landing deftly on a rock that stuck out above the surface of the water. "Tonight is going to be cold enough without our clothes being wet," Dann shouted back when he caught Rist raising an eyebrow at him. Rist looked at Calen and shrugged. 

With Dann at the lead, they made their way across the stream, hopping from rock to rock. 

"Ah, fuck!" Calen yelled as his foot slipped on the slick surface of a flat stone covered in green and brown moss. It was all he could do to stop himself falling headfirst into the water. He let his shoulders sag and resigned himself to slogging the rest of the way through the languid stream. 

The smirk on Dann's face only made it worse. When he reached the other side of the stream, Calen kicked out at the air as he tried in vain to shake the water out from inside his boot. He should have known Dann would make it look easier than it was. 

The cave itself only stretched back into the rock face about twenty feet, which suited Calen fine. He didn't want something sneaking up behind him from the depths while he slept. The walls were overgrown in patches, thick with green moss and small purple flowers streaked with crimson veins. 

There was an unpleasant aroma wafting into Calen's nose that he couldn't quite place. 

"Well, it's not the palace of Al'Nasla," Rist remarked as he brushed a pile of stones away with his foot, "but it's not that bad. Cleaner than my room –

it even has flowers." Rist reached up and plucked a purple flower from amidst the moss. 

"Don't touch that!" Dann roared. He smacked the flower straight out of Rist's hand in a blur of motion. 

"Why did you do that?" Rist cursed, caressing the now reddish mark on the back of his hand. 

"That's Purple Ember. If you had held it any longer, your hands would have felt like they were on fire," Dann sniped. "Did you not read about it in those books of yours?" 

Rist glared at the back of Dann's head. 

"You two are like children, I swear to the gods," Calen laughed. "But seriously though, Dann's right – don't touch those flowers." 

Rist scrunched his upper lip and took a step away from the wall of the cave as he eyed the purple flowers askance. 

Calen had to suppress a laugh as he looked at Rist. "Okay, Dann, can you hold the fort while Rist and I gather wood for the fire before the night sets in? I want to see if I can find any useful plants and herbs as well. They could come in handy." 

Dann was already lying down on the packed dirt, his head propped up against a rock. "Sounds like a plan to me, Calen. Consider the fort held." 

He closed his eyes as he pulled his bow up to his chest and dragged his quiver to within arm's reach. 

Calen started to protest but surrendered to the reality that Dann probably still had a better chance of putting an arrow in a would-be attacker in that position than Calen did with his eyes open, standing up straight. As much of an idiot as he could be at times, it was like he was born with that bow in his hands. 

Rist just shrugged at Calen and nodded towards the forest. 

The juices from the rabbit tumbled down Calen's chin as he sank his teeth into the leg, eager to get the meat off the bone and into his rumbling stomach. He used his sleeve to wipe away the brownish-yellow beads glistening from the firelight. 

With a bit of luck, Rist had got the fire going just before the sun had set. 

Calen had never mastered the trick with a knife and a rock, not that it mattered as long as his belly was full. 

"You know what, Dann? You're a bit of an ass, but you sure know how to cook rabbit," Rist said matter-of-factly as he picked the bone clean with his teeth. Calen never cared too much for rabbit meat. It was usually dry and tough, but he was not going to complain. 

Dann let out a snort, sending pieces of half-chewed rabbit spraying across the fire, which drew a chorus of laughter from Rist and Calen. 

"You okay there, Dann?" Calen laughed, coughing as he attempted to suppress the waves of laughter. 

"Fuck off," Dann choked, taking a deep breath inward to settle himself. 

When they were finished, Dann gathered all the bones and threw them into the river. "We don't want any kats or wolfpines strolling in here, looking for the meat that used to sit on those bones." 

Calen felt sleep creep up on him. With his belly full and the fire pulsating heat throughout the small cave, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. 

He pulled his coat tighter around himself and shuffled down into the dirt. It

wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but he found it incredible how a hot meal and a warm fire could make hard clay feel like a goose feather mattress. 

He saw Dann and Rist's eyes drooping as well. A bit of sleep was well deserved for the three of them. 

Calen awoke to the sound of what he thought was someone rummaging through one of the bags. His eyes were stuck together with crusty flecks of sleep, which he rubbed away with the back of his hand. 

"Dann?" he whispered, his voice still hushed with tiredness. His half-awake eyes saw a shape at the other side of the smouldering fire, near Rist's bag. We must have all fallen asleep without putting out the fire. 

A low rumbling sound, interrupted by the occasional muffled snort, came from whoever it was at the bags – or it could have been Dann snoring. 

Calen heaved himself upright; the fatigue from the day's trek made it a greater task than it should have been. He rubbed his tired eyes again, pushing his fingers into the creases and dragging them down his face as if to pry open his lids and bring his vision back to normal. 

"Rist, what are you doing?" Calen sighed. The embers of the fire provided little light, and darkness still covered the mouth of the cave, obscuring the forest from view. Calen's mouth bunched up into a frown, frustrated by the lack of response. "Rist, what—" 

Calen leapt to his feet, stumbling backward. The figure huddled over Rist's bag turned its body sideways, allowing Calen to catch sight of the immense shadow that it cast across the wall of the cave. "Rist! Dann! Wake up! There's a fucking bear!" 

The blood drained from his face as he saw the hulking figure of the bear for the first time in the dying firelight. Its thick, blackish-brown fur was mottled with tacky dark patches of dirt – or blood. It was hard to tell. It had a dished face, with short roundish ears. Eyes as black as jet. Teeth of alabaster and claws that dwarfed Calen's fingers. 

Calen saw Rist leap from his sleeping position, shaking his head back and forth as he processed what was happening. There was a look of pure horror on his face when the bear raised itself on its hind legs, its head scraping the jagged rock ceiling of the cave. It had to be ten feet tall. 

A roar erupted from its now open jaws but was cut short by a sharp whoosh, followed by a heavy thunk. The turkey feather fletching of one of

Tharn Pimm's arrows now jutted from the bear's chest. The roar that the bear had initially intended paled in comparison to the visceral thunder that now crashed forward from its open mouth. With it came a spray of spit and phlegm, accompanied by an abusive waft of rotting flesh. 

Slumping its upper body close to the ground, the howling bear swept its hulking shoulders towards Rist. Its thick muscular neck collided with his sternum in a crash, launching him backwards into the darkness. 

Whoosh.

Another arrow now protruded from the bear's right shoulder. Calen didn't even remember seeing Dann get to his feet. Yet, there he stood, bow raised, the string drawn back to the corner of his mouth, which was a thin line of concentration. He squinted to see in the bleak light. 

The bear let out another earth-shattering roar. The natural acoustics of the cave amplified the sound, and Calen and Dann both winced as their ears drummed with pain. 

In that moment, the bear charged, its solid, burly legs carrying its gargantuan body at a pace that Calen could not believe. He pulled his knife from its sheath as the creature careened towards him. Another arrow sank into its shoulder. The sound was drowned out by the crashing stones and lumps of clay lifted by the bear's feverish charge. 

Dann threw himself out of the way, crashing into the wall of the cave. 

Calen wasn't so lucky. He swung his knife as the top of the bear's skull caught him in the shoulder, sending him spinning to the hard ground. A searing pain shot through his torso. 

As the bear lifted its head, Calen caught sight of his knife, buried to the hilt in the animal's neck. It lurched to the right as its feet staggered. Both the knife and the arrows had wounded it badly, and the wounds were taking their toll. Its movements were slow; each careful step towards Calen seemed to take all of its energy. Calen's heart pounded in his chest as the enormous creature got closer. The bear's now wobbly legs heaved its towering frame by sheer will alone. With little warning, the bear collapsed. 

The ground shook with the impact, plumes of dust occluding what little light there was. 

It took a lifetime for Calen to drag himself to his feet. The aching pain running up the right side of his body distracted from the pain everywhere else. He found Dann standing over the crumpled frame of the bear. Its sheer size still struck fear into Calen. It was still alive, its breathing slow and

laboured. Each breath was heavy, rasping, as the bear attempted in vain to drag air into its collapsing lungs. 

Dann pulled an arrow from his quiver and wrapped his fist firmly around the shaft. Even in the frail light, Calen saw his fingers turning white from the grip. He lifted the arrow and, with a grimace of regret, drove it straight through the soft tissue at the side of the bear's head. The breathing stopped. 

Dann hunkered down onto his knees and placed a hand on the fur of the bear's neck. "Better it was quick," he sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping. 

There was a weighted silence in the air. The only sounds were the creaking of branches and the whistling wind, accompanied by the chirping of crickets. His shoulder would hurt in the morning. In fact, it already did. 

"Guys," Rist called, "is it dead?" 

Calen couldn't stop his hands shaking. He heard Dann sigh, and although he couldn't see through the darkness that had grown stronger as the fire dwindled, he could tell that he had thrown his eyes up to the heavens. 

"Yes, Rist, the bear is dead." Calen frowned as he looked towards Dann's slumped silhouette. 

"Okay, good," Rist said. His voice was shaking, and Calen could hear the dryness in his throat. Rist must have pushed a log into the fire because it spat embers into the air, and the cave became a little brighter. He was fully visible now as he stood by the fire. Dried blood and dirt were matted into his dark hair. His coat was covered in clay and dust, and a few rips and tears raced down his left sleeve. In his hand was the skull of a deer – young, judging by its size. It was blotched grey with dirt and picked clean of flesh. 

"I'm not going back to sleep."