Written by Derrick Nadeau
Part Two
You Hunt
Rand wiped sweat off his brow as he stared up towards the sun standing high in the noon time sky. Taking a swig of water from his flask, Rand stared at the field around him. The year had been good for farming, and the crops had yielded a bountiful harvest. Rand looked over to his eldest son, Emrik, harvesting tomatoes nearby and smiled proudly. Rand looked back to his farmhouse and saw his youngest son, Donno, tending to the pigs in their pen with his mother, and his smile grew prouder. Rand’s favorite time of year was quickly approaching, the end of harvest when the air would start becoming cooler and the leaves would change, and he was anxious to spend that time taking his sons out to the forest to hunt for wild game. Though his people had been farmers for generations, planting crops and raising livestock, Rand had decided to rekindle the old traditions of hunting game in the fall and winter to sustain his family during the harder periods of cold and snow. Rand had even used his skills as a tinkerer to upgrade his hunting weapons, such as turning a simple bow and arrow into a crossbow to improve his chances. Rand had tried to share his inventions with his entire village, but was denied by his village elders. The elders had decided that farming provided all the food needed by the village, and the old traditions of hunting wild animals for food no longer needed to be used for sustenance. Rand shook his head and let out a chuckle as he thought about the arguments he had tried to use to convince the elders that hunting would add to the food supply in the harsh winters, and help everyone survive. The elders quickly dismissed Rand’s claims, telling him that the farmlands yielded plenty of food for the entire village. Though they had determined that hunting did not need to be used as an alternate food source, they would not deny anyone that chose to hunt on their own. Rand had taught his sons to hunt, building crossbows for both, as well as a few of his closest friends.
Rand’s thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of a bell ringing loudly at the edge of the village. The bell was an alarm warning the village of an approaching attack by the mortal enemy of Rand’s village, the Seraph. The Seraph, a race of winged hunters and warriors, believed themselves superior to Rand’s race, the Devlin. With their horned heads and hoofed feet, the Devlin were treated as nothing more than mere animals by the Seraph to be hunted and killed in a yearly ritual dedicated to the Gods. The fact that the Devlin were merely farmers also led to the Seraph seeing them as weak pacifists that deserved to be hunted.
“Emrik,” Rand shouted to his son, “That’s the alarm! The Seraph are coming! Get to the house, now!”
Emrik responded immediately, dropping his basket of tomatoes and running full speed towards the farmhouse. Rand followed closely behind, but could not match his son’s speed. Emrik reached the farmhouse, paused, and turned to make sure his father was not too far behind. Emrik was relieved to see that his father was only a couple of steps behind him, and he turned his gaze up to the sky. Emrik could see the silhouettes of several Seraph hunters in the sunlight, and his heart filled with dread.
“They’re coming father,” Emrik shouted, pointing to the sky. “Hurry!”
Rand reached the doorway of his house, breathing heavily, and turned to look in the direction his son was pointing in time to see the Seraph diving towards Rand’s village, their spears hungry for blood.
“Get in the house,” Rand hissed through heavy breaths.
“But father,” Emrik protested.
“Go,” Rand shouted. “Make sure your mother and brother are safe!”
As Emrik ran to find his mother and brother, Rand looked to his tool shed several yards away from the house and calculated his chances of making it to the shed safely. The crossbows Rand and his sons used to hunt were stored in that shed, and he knew that he would need the weapons to keep his family safe from the sky hunters. Rand took a deep breath, cursed his fortune, and ran at full speed towards the shed. With his focus centered on the shed in front of him, Rand did not see the Seraph bearing down on him. Rand let out an agonized shout as the Seraph swooped down and knocked Rand to the ground. Rand rolled over, holding his now aching ribs, to see the Seraph, a young hunter with black wings, circling back to attack again.
“Father,” Rand heard Emrik shout as he ran out to help his father.
“No son,” Rand shouted back. “Stay in the house! Don’t worry about me!”
Rand watched in horror as the black winged Seraph swooped down again, this time aiming for his son. Rand struggled to get to his feet as his son was knocked to the ground by the Seraph. Rand fought the urge to run to his son’s side, knowing that he would not be able to protect his son without a weapon. As tears filled his eyes, Rand turned and ran to the shed, the sound of Seraph wings taunting him from the air. As Rand approached the shed, he put his head down and ran into the door of the shed. Using his momentum coupled with the hard bone of the horns on his head, Ran was able to easily break through the locked door of the shed in one single attempt. Once inside the shed, Rand grabbed his crossbow and a quiver of bolts, and quickly loaded a bolt into the crossbow. Rand rushed out of the shed to see his son lying on the ground with the black winged Seraph standing over him. Before Rand could react, the Seraph stabbed his spear into Emrik’s chest, piercing the young Devlin’s heart.
Rand let out a blood curdling scream as he watched the spear pierce his son’s chest several more times. Acting on pure impulse, Rand lifted his crossbow, aimed it at the black winged Seraph, and released a bolt. The bolt soared through the air and found its mark, piercing through the right arm of the Seraph. The Seraph let out a cry of pain as he grabbed on to the bolt protruding from his arm. The Seraph turned to face Rand, raising his wings to take flight. Rand had quickly loaded another bolt into his crossbow, and he rushed to fire it at the Seraph. The second bolt found its way to the Seraph’s wing, boring into the thin, feather covered flesh, and sending the Seraph careening backwards towards Rand’s nearby farmhouse. The Seraph screamed as the bolt found purchase in the wall of the farmhouse, trapping him against the wall. Rand, having once again loaded his crossbow, fired another bolt into the Seraph’s other wing, preventing the creature from escaping.
Once Rand had determined that the Seraph was securely trapped against the wall of his farmhouse, he ran to his son’s side and cradled the boy in his arms. With the sounds of the Seraph struggling to free himself echoing through the air, Rand stared down at his son with tear filled eyes. Rand watched helplessly as the god of death stole his son’s life away, offering a prayer for the safe travel of his son’s soul to the heavens. Once the life had fully slipped away from Emrik, Rand closed his son’s eyes and kissed him on the forehead.
Rand grabbed his crossbow, then focused his hate filled gaze on the captured Seraph.
“You took my son from me you bastard,” Rand shouted as he loaded another bolt into his crossbow.
The Seraph did not reply, but instead focused solely on the bolts holding his wings to the wall of the farmhouse.
“My son,” Rand shouted, aiming the crossbow at the Seraph’s head and walking towards the hunter. “My eldest son! You took his life! You stole my son from me!”
The Seraph turned his focus to the crossbow aimed at his head, his eyes growing wide, but still did not respond.
“Do you not feel a bit of remorse,” Rand asked, still shouting. “What kind of horrible creature are you? You murdered my son! For what purpose? To appease your cruel gods? How many sons of my people have been taken by your hunters? And now look at you. Trapped here by my bolts. Your wings useless to you now. I should just put another bolt in your head and finish you! Or perhaps through your heart as you did to my son!”
“Please,” the Seraph cried out at last. “Please don’t kill me!”
“So you can speak,” Rand said. “And those are the words you choose to say to me? To beg for your life? You did not even give my son time to beg for his.”
“Please,” The Seraph said again as Rand pushed the head of the crossbow bolt into the his chest.
“Beg all you want monster,” Rand spat. “You killed my son. There is no reason for me to spare your life.”
“Perhaps there is,” A voice said from behind Rand.
Rand turned to see several of his fellow villagers approaching his farmhouse, including the elders. Rand turned back to the Seraph and once again pointed his crossbow at his head.
“He killed my son,” Rand said, addressing the approaching villagers. “He deserves nothing less than death.”
“Our village has lost many sons this day,” One elder said. “And we will lose many more when the hunters return in the next few days. And yet, you have done something that has never been done before Rand. You have captured one of the hunter’s own sons. We understand your need for justice in your son’s death Rand. But, perhaps there is a better way. A way that will show the Seraph that we will no longer sit by and allow them to take our people from us.”
Rand took a deep breath, glared back at the captured Seraph, then lowered his crossbow reluctantly.
“Tell me your plan,” Rand finally said after a long pause. “Convince me why I should not just kill him outright.”
From The Mind Of Derrick 