By the time shadows stretched long and the sun’s light grew amber, a gentle breeze cast itself near Crepus’ and the Commander’s house. Torches were already lit as a gathering of mercenaries circled around the smell of meat Desider was grilling as Crepus brought the beer as they began to feast.
“Aye, what dost thou see abroad? Dost thou deal with pirates much?” asked one of the mercenaries to The Captain.
“They are quite abundant between our shores and Drenmoor’s. Though mine trading is fixed in Verrendorn.” The Captain said with a mouthful before swallowing. “Thankfully they be too scattered to be of any danger save for their own self.”
Sparks from the fire danced near Desider as he sat in silence, listening.
“Hark, Commander, hast thou not seen fighting up north?” Desider heard from a mercenary.
“Fighting?! I heareth he massacred a bar there!” replied another.
“I would do away with those muckworms of Drenmoor if given the chance. They could turn a saint mad on a holy day.” The Commander bit down on the flesh as the crowd smirked and snickered.
“Oi, uncle, dost thou linger by the shores of Verrendorn or dost thou ever grow curious of the forests there?” asked Crepus as Desider shifted his eyes toward them.
The Captain took a chug of beer before sighing, cracking a grin. “Thinkest thou there be ghouls there?”
Crepus smirked, then tilted his head towards his cousin. “Would that not be intriguing?” he said, nudging Desider’s shoulder.
One of the mercenaries snapped at the mention. “I hear many tales of ghouls and witches in the woods across all Sancethia—even our own, near the lake!”
A mercenary chuckled and cast a mock-smirk. “Thinkest thou truly that ghouls roam these woods? Heh, quite, quite...”
“To speak sooth, these tales roam across the continent. I have seen men turn mad from these ghouls. Not many be foolish enough to venture there,” Desider heard, his gaze flickering back at the town gates.
The Captain took another chug of his beverage. “In good faith, I have not seen a ghoul, though I do hear strange sounds at night in my travels and have heard rumors from townsfolks.”
The Commander took a steady sip, his gaze half-lidded. “All I saw were bandits and some wild boars. Perchance they be tales to keep away unwelcomed guests.”
Desider sat beside his cousin as he heard these accounts, his eyes drifting back to his uncle and the town’s walls. While the mercenaries were busy exchanging tales, Desider blinked at the crackling fire, leaving his share of meat that was barely bit. The Commander shifted his gaze to his nephew, seeing his lips pursed and his food untouched. The young man caught his uncle’s glance but found no words, his own eyes lingering on the flickering flames.
Crepus rose upon seeing empty bottles laying on the ground. “Oi fellas, how ‘bout a shooting game?” he said as he gathered and lined up the bottles far enough from the camp, smirking. He picked a small stone and threw it onto a bottle, breaking it just a bit.
“Aye, give me that!” a mercenary interjected, shooting a pebble on the cobblestone road instead. “Cur!”
Another mercenary laughed at his comrade. “Move over, clotpole.” He took his shot and aimed, hurling too hard at the top of a bottle and snapping it clean.
Crepus looked over to Desider, seeing his cousin’s thoughtful expression, “Aye cousin, sit idly not!” he handed him a rock. “Show the mercenaries what thou hast!”
Desider smiled faintly as he rose. He hurled his small stone, though it strayed to the side despite its force, causing the others to chuckle. “Thou hast not yet drunk a thing Desider, open thy eyes!” Crepus teased before handing the Captain a pebble as Desider forced a light smile. “Come now, uncle! Grant us a display!”
The Captain cast his nephew a half-lidded, drunken glance while grinning. He threw the pebble from his seat, hitting the wall of a shop as it bounced to a bottle, shaking it slightly. Both chuckled before Crepus stepped back to his father. “Wilt thou not grant us a display, father?” he handed him a stone, his eyes sparkling with a smile.
The Commander took a sip as he held the gravel. Without rising, he cast his half-lidded gaze towards the bottles and hurled the pebble, shattering a bottle square in the middle as the bottles to the side trembled. The mercenaries and his family cheered.
Desider’s jaw tightened as his fingers curled and his knuckles turned white. Their laughter drowned out as he gave the fire one last glance. Just as another bottle crashed, he heaved briefly and turned away. Crepus caught sight of him and raised an eyebrow at the retreating form of Desider. “Where goest thou?”
Desider cleared his throat. “I remembered I must attend to something. I shall return shortly.”
Crepus snickered, “Aye, quite,” he squinted his eyes. “Wander not astray, cousin.”
Desider sneered. The Commander cast his nephew a brief, unreadable glance as the young man looked back. His legs grew heavy, his gaze blinking down at the path beneath his feet. With a sharp inhale, he shook his head and strode toward his abode uphill. His pace slowed upon reaching the door, sneaking for his blade without his mother noticing.
He gazed upon it for a moment, his hand slowly reaching for the handle with a slight tremble as he heard their faint laughs. “(Fie... folly or not, I shan’t stand idle.)” Once his grip tightened, he paced downhill, casting a glance toward the camp as his brows shuddered. He turned his steps toward the town’s walls. “(They must see. Else what am I...?)”
A posted guard on the watchtower noticed the young man from below. “Oi, Desider,” he called out, “‘tis late for thee to wander out. Best return.”
Desider tilted his head back and halted. “I forgot something there yesternight and wish to retrieve it. I shall return soon.”
“What hast thou forgot? Perchance I may aid thee.” Offered the guard.
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Desider shifted his eyes toward the woods for a moment. “Nay, nay... I shall tend to it myself...” He turned his back and passed the gate.
The guard saw Desider continue walking before calling out his name again, yet the young man gave no response, continuing to march forward.
He treaded into the deep darkness of the woods where the town’s outer torchlight grew dimmer and dimmer. He took a path in the woods he wouldn’t normally take. The stillness of his surroundings caused him no unease, though the darkness made it difficult to reach where he wanted without error. The moon’s light illuminated the woods as did the stars.
At last, he reached the lake. He rubbed his temple and glanced around, the stars’ reflection glinting on the lake. The whistles of autumn wind hit the tree leaves and the subtle shift in the waters were his only companion. He paced around the near edges of the lake, left and right, then at one point stood still.
He waited for anything to occur, even a boar to slay, any reason to unsheathe his sword. After an hour had passed, Desider shook his head and scoffed. “Mayhap they be but tales... a wasted hour.” he gritted his teeth and took a sharp turn to face the woods again, cursing to himself. But just as he did, he heard a distant growl.
He tilted his head back and gazed upward. In the dark, behind the trunks and leaves, he found a pair of faint, pale green orbs. Desider blinked and squinted his eyes, taking a step forward before he felt the ground beneath his feet shift. His shoulder rested slightly as his eyes widened.
The orbs turned into a silhouette of what resembled a wolf. It stood tall, nearing half a trunk’s height. Desider smirked faintly. He unsheathed his sword and took another step despite losing breath. “At last...”
The silhouette became clearer as it drew closer—its teeth as sharp as the blade he held, its pale green eyes void of life and its drool mixing with the waters. Its fur was pitch black save for its legs that were dark grey and the absent flesh within different portions of its body, showing the bones of its skeleton.
Desider heaved and clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on the handle and planting his trembling feet.
Then a rib-shaking, thunderous howl escaped its jaws, causing another pair of eyes to appear to its side.
Then another, then another. A pack of seven.
His jaw slackened. His grip loosened.
The guard heard a faint howl from where he was. He reached down to the ground and approached the set-up feast. “Aye, Commander. Thy nephew wandereth out in the woods for a time now. Couldst thou bring him? I hear howling from a distance.”
The Captain, though drunk, looked up at the guard. “Eh? Desider went out...?” He pushed himself to rise.
Crepus sighed with exasperation and rolled his eyes. “What joy... worry not, I shall see to it.”
The Commander waved them off, nodding as rose from where he sat. He grabbed his battleaxe and a torch, marching away from the feast and beyond the town’s walls.