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Rated: GC · Short Story · Fantasy · #124522
A hunter meets a strange traveller in the woods
Snow flakes were carried by the cold wind as the large man bent down and freed a small bundle of brown fur from a loop. Wiping away the snow covering it, he examined the find.

         "Aye, another fine snow rabbit. A fat one, too. Let's just hope we caught two more of them, then today's meal will be fine. Thank you, Shiradawa." There was no one there Ben could be speaking to, but he had taken up the habit of talking to himself a long time ago. He had black hair and brown eyes, and was a huge man, nearly 1.70m tall. His strong body was now hidden under heavy clothing that was just barely able to keep him warm. It kept him from freezing to death and he had grown used to the cold winters in Istorm woods. With his 29 years, he was at the peak of his life, having a wife and two sons, and being the best hunter of Lightwood village.

         Suddenly, there was another sound besides the howling of the wind. A rustling, or flattering. Focusing through the haze of white blurring through the trees, Ben was able to see some dark shapes disappear towards the sky. Just some birds. But he was curious as to what could have startled them. Having spend most of his life in these woods and especially exploring its winters, Ben felt that something was different. His scavenging the rabbit wouldn't have worried the birds, they knew he wasn't a threat.

         After hanging the rabbit into one of the loops attached to the outside of his fur coat, Ben set out into the direction the birds must have come from. The wind was picking up again, as more and more snow fell. Sure enough, he wouldn't want to spend this night out here. It wouldn't be a storm, but it would certainly be nasty. Still, it wasn't the thought of the incoming cold weather, and it wasn't the howling wind cutting his face that made him feel cold. Something was different, although he couldn't quite say what. The snow, the wind, the trees, everything seemed normal, but there was that instinctive feeling of dread he had.

         "Get a grip on yourself, Ben. You are still too young to lose it" He had just remembered the stories about the hunters that lost their minds while travelling between the gigantic white trees. Some believe that they just couldn't cope with the loneliness, while others are sure that the forest spirits, the Kaparr, ate their souls. Ben didn't mind the loneliness, and he hadn't met any Kaparrs yet. But what if that was what he was feeling?

         Pushing away those dangerous thoughts, he concentrated on his surroundings again. Huge trees with their needled branches high above his head, the ground just a white carpet which swallows up anything that stops moving, hiding any traces, any tracks. Then he saw the form. At first, he couldn't be sure, whether it was just another shadow in the trees' twilight. But then it moved and extended some strange limb like a small wing from the top of its hunchbacked body.

         Sure enough, this was the stranger that had intruded into the forest. Ben had an odd feeling just looking at it from a distant, but he just had to know. He approached the figure.

         "Caw. Caw" Closing in, Ben relaxed as he recognized the strange figure to be a person with a crow sitting on each shoulder. The man's clothes were just old rags, torn in more places than they were covering, and the pale flesh had turned black at several places showing that the cold was taking its toll. He had black hair. As he lifted his head, Ben was able to see his brown eyes, covered in a haze above his untidy, long beard. A mixture of emotions crossed the tortured face ending in terror.

         "Stay back! Keep away lest death and doom befall you! Run, you fool!" The man tried to move away backwards, but slipped and fell down on his behind. The crows spread their wings and protested at this sudden movement. While seemingly protecting his face with his left arm, the man waved his right arm in a movement like trying to shoo Ben away. He was wearing precious- looking bracers colored in black and blue on both arms, the only valuable objects to be seen. As Ben stepped forward in order to help the poor wretch, he began again: "Stay clear! Don't become another one! Get away!". The man started sobbing. Ben hesitated, not knowing what to do. Shiradawa expected his people to show kindness and mercy to everyone. They were supposed to help those in need, and this shivering pile of rags before his feet certainly needed a lot of help. But why was the stranger sending him away?

         "Greetings traveller, I am Ben Trapper from Lightwood village. I am checking our traps for game. From where to where does your road lead you?" Ben figured the formal greeting would the safest thing, ending his speech with the usual greeting gesture moving his right hand before his eyes, his mouth, and then his stomach.

         "Huh? I... I... I am the cursed harbringer of doom! I am going from death and going to disaster! Leave me if you value your very existance!" The man shouted out these words, his voice shaking. He certainly didn't look like an angel of death, broken and weak as he was. But still there was that odd feeling and the crows...

         "What do you mean, 'harbringer of doom'? Aren't you a mortal man just like me? You are cold, and obviously starved. Let me take you to the village ..."

         "NOOO!"Ben was rudely interrupted as the man rose to his feet hearing the word "village". "Don't you recognize these?" The man showed his bracers. They were black, glistening like crystal with light blue ornaments on them depicting fish and waves. Ben moved his hand trying to touch them. The man stumbled backwards a few feet, evading Ben's touch. "Why do you think am I accompanied by Muwe's messengers, the birds that carry souls to Muwe's heavenly realms? I am a Cursed One, cursed by Liadra herself! I am no mortal anymore, I am just unending pain and misery. Get away while you might still at least save your life!" The words just spurted out of the stranger. Ben was shocked. A Cursed One, here in these woods right before his eyes. Certainly, he had heard the gruesome tales of those poor souls. They had angered the gods, and as punishment, they were doomed to travel the world for eternity, bringing bad luck and death to all that come into contact with them. There had only been very few that had brought down upon themselves such capital punishment, so that no one Ben knew had actually heard about one being there during his life time.

         "You are beginning to understand, don't you. Be clever and get away before I kill you as well. It is the best for both of us, believe me." The man seemed to have recovered and was taking advantage of Ben's momentary hesitation. "Try to forget that we ever met, and the heavens might forgive you." There was hope in the man's eyes.

         "No." A simple word, but it carried Ben's entire life in it. The stranger tensed and terror replaced hope. "No. I can't abandon you. We here in Istorm woods serve Shiradawa, the goddess of mercy. We are to help those in need and share what we have with those that are lacking. Look around you. Look at this magnificant land, with its terrible beauty. Shiradawa created it so as to test us and in order to forge us into better being. It is her will that we have met and I will not disappoint her by runnning away from my duty. I will accompany you a while and then give you some new clothes and some food. This is my last word."

         "Fool! Sure enough all here are serving Shiradawa. But those at Rockfort had more brains than you! Surprised? This is why I am here in this hell pit. I went to see John the Wise of Rockfort. He is blessed by the gods and famous for his wisdom. I was hoping that he could help me find peace. But instead, they sent me away at the gates. Be gone now; if even the wisest man alive wouldn't help me, what could you do?" The cursed one was getting angry. But there was also something else, maybe fear? , in his voice.

         "This may have been their decision. But I have made mine, and it is to stay with you. You can either sit here and argue with me, or get going. It is getting dark, and if you are really bringing bad luck, what fate would befall me during a stormy night like this. If you want to keep our relationship short, simply come along. Once I know that you got your new clothes and food, I will leave you alone, promised."

         "Argh. To hell with it all. You will regret this. Just don't touch me." The man stood up to his full height of some 1.60m. If he hadn't been slouching forward, he could very well reach 1.70m. "Let's get this done with, so that I will not get to know you."

         "Even if you don't want to get to know me, you could at least tell me something about the things you have seen, the places you have visited. It can't do any additional harm, and if I am risking my life trying to help you, I could demand at least some little favor like that in return." Ben was trying to get the man to relax as they started to walk through the woods. To anyone else, every direction would have looked the same, but Ben knew his beloved woods inside out. He knew every tree, every path, every bush. He would lead them to the village without err. If the cursed one was doomed to travel all alone, he would certainly feel the need to talk to someone. Ben was determined to offer him that relief.

         "Well, whatever. What should I talk about? Kingdoms long lost, centuries of misery and hunger? Leading the way for the plague? I know, let's stay close to our current situation. Let me tell you about the old man from Rockfort."

         "The old man from Rockfort?"

         "Yes. When I arrived at Rockfort, the gates were closed and a piece of parchment was attached to them. Someone, probably John the Wise himself, had written in my native tongue that I should leave Rockfort alone as there is no salvation for me there. There were tears in my eyes. Tears of joy, seeing these long- forgotten letters, a memento of the past when I had been alive, and tears of anger at being cast away into the darkness of despair. Therefore, I stayed."

         "You stayed?"

         "I sat down before the gate and waited for them to open them. I can't starve, I can't die. No one survives touching me, no one survived trying to kill me. Even if they fired arrows at me, threw rocks, wielded swords and axes, none of them could kill me. Wound me, mutilate me, yes, but I would never be slain. And thus, I put up a siege. After a week, they finally openend the gate and an old man came out. 'Greetings' he said. 'I have come in order to escort you back through Istorm woods.' I was confused. 'You can't stay here forever, and the people of Rockfort can't let you come in. I volunteered to give you some company while you leave. And here is some food and clothing for you. You must be really hungry.' He handed me cheese from the bag he was carrying, and I immediately devoured it, although my stomach hurt, not being used to food anymore. I didn't really have a choice, so I gave in."

         "Just like our meeting."

         "Yes, indeed. On our first day, we descended from the hill Rockfort was built on and returned to Istorm forest. We talked about life, and I told him about my journeys. He listened and comforted me. I felt good, although I knew it couldn't last. On the morning of the second day, it happened. The old man slipped and broke his leg. His old bones split easily making a real mess of things. The pain must have been horrible, but still he was able to smile at me. 'Go on. There is nothing you can do for me here. We knew this would happen, but I have lived my life, and my death won't be a great loss. There is no need for you to stay here to look at my corpse. Go. You will be happier if you don't sse me die.' He was right, of course. So I left. But his face still haunts my dreams along with scores of other victims."

         "A chilling tale. But it will take more than that to discourage me. Besides, the village is just some hundred meters ahead." Just as expected, the man stopped immediately. The tiny smile that had been there seconds before vanished from his face. "I know that you won't get near it. Here is the deal. You wait over there at the edge of the clearing at the village. I go inside, fetch the things for you and deposit them there. You can then pick them up. Understood?" "Alright. There is no way I could save you, so why waste this chance." The cursed one frowned.

         Ben ran onto the clearing and opened the door to the village. This far north in the woods, the villages consisted of just one building the size of a small hill. Inside them, all the families lived around the central fireplace, the fire in which would never cease burning. The other were quite surprised as Ben hastened in, looked around a second and then ran to a group of women sewing clothes and shoes from the fur of the prey the hunters had caught the past few days.

         "Marsha, go fetch my extra coat, a set of trousers, my new pair of shoes and a big bag. I will explain later." Surprised by her husband's unusual haste, Marsha got up immediately, dropping her work onto the floor.

         "Ben, what is this haste? What are you going to do with these things?" The village elder approached him, a worried frown adding more wrinkles to that old face. "I have met someone who needs my help, and I have to give him these supplies." "And why can't you bring him here so that he may warm himself before the fire? Surely, Shiradawa wouldn't want us to leave someone in the freezing cold." "Please understand that he couldn't enter the village. Just let me do what I must." A strange look of - apprehension? - was in the elder's eyes. Then she turned to Marsha. "Go and get what your husband has asked for, and pray for all of us." Marsha ran towards their room and disappeared.

         "Thank you." Ben started to move towards the storage room so that he may get the food he had promised, when something fell down and struck his leg. A piece of wood that had broken away from the ceiling had pierced his right leg. Blood was rushing forth, building a puddle at his feet. Now, everyone was startled. "Come and help me tend to the wound." Only the village elder kept calm. "Steve, Brian. ... Get rations for a week and put them into the bag your mother has brought. ... Bring it to the edge of the village's clearing and then come back immediately." Ben still gave commands through his clenched teeth, although the pain was terrible. Marsha had just returned with the goods and rushed to her husband's side.

         "You know what you are asking of your sons, don't you?" The elder inquired. "I know the risk, but I gave a promise. And Shiradawa requires us to show mercy." "As you wish. You heard your father. Do as he asked you to do. But when outside, don't hesitate, don't look around. This isn't looking good. I think I can save him, but his leg ... Get him near the fire and get me a knife. Please, Shiradawa, forgive your unworthy servants."

         As ordered, the boys collected the supplies and brought them to the forest.

         "Steve. I think I can see someone there between the trees." "You idiot, come here back to the village, you have heard what the elder and father have said. Let's hurry."

         "You knew there was a price to be paid and you still insisted on helping me. You fool. I pray for your soul." After putting on the new clothes, the cursed one shouldered the bags of supplies and disappeared into the twilight.
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