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Bryn woke early. Much too early. The morning light illuminating the thick canopy above him was a twilight blue indicating the sun had not quite risen properly yet. He laid there in his bedroll staring at the tree branches, listening to the morning song birds and feeling a heavy hollowness settle in his chest. Curling up on his side beneath his blanket he tried and failed to fall back asleep, aching with the familiar melancholy he couldn’t quite place the source of. Unwanted concerns regarding the journey sat on the front of his mind and he screwed his eyes shut to make them go away.
With a heavy sigh he sat up, wrapping his arms around himself against the misty morning air. For a full blooded human the light would be just enough to navigate by but for Bryn’s elven eyes he could see their simple campsite as clear as midday. On the other side of the remnant of last night’s fire Harmon was still asleep, wrapped in his own blankets and snoring mildly. Near him Rax’s bedroll sat empty, the way it almost always did when Bryn woke up.
This was normal now, waking up in unfamiliar places. At a campsite by the road, under the branches of a forest or in any number of inn rooms. He brought his legs to his chest, rested his hands on his knees and buried his face in them as the uneasy knot in his stomach grew. He wasn’t even sure what he was missing, if ‘missing’ is what he was feeling at all.
Without much thought he began slipping on his boots and getting to his feet. Bryn didn’t think of what he was doing, just that he needed to do something. He looked at Rax's bedroll again. Over the weeks of traveling together Bryn knew Rax liked to meditate as the sun rose in the morning. He was likely by the creek they had gone fishing in yesterday, Bryn concluded. The sound of the gentle waterway would be a nice place for the elf to have a peaceful sit.
For a brief moment Bryn questioned why he’d seek out the druid at all. He’d seen plenty of the old bastard for weeks. Too much, he had complained many times. But the chill in the air and the ache in his chest caused his shoulders to shudder. He ignored the thoughts as he entered the thicker brush of the forest, compelled to seek out the now familiar company but not knowing or caring why.
The creek was not far from where they had set up camp although it certainly wasn’t in sight. Lightly tromping through the leafy underbrush Bryn heard the quiet babbling of the water before he saw it. He had been expecting to see Rax sitting peacefully on the large flat rock that sat by the creek but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Brows furrowing, Bryn hugged his arms to his chest and stood there by the streamside, staring at his reflection in the gently flowing water. He knelt down to sink a hand into the cold fluid, feeling it pass through his fingers.
As he sat there an odd sensation hit the back of his neck, and suddenly he could feel the hair all over his body standing on end. As slowly as he could he turned his head over his shoulder to peer back into the dark wood.
Staring at him from the brush were two dark, glistening eyes hovering over a maw filled to the brim with razor sharp teeth. The creature they belonged to stepped slowly from its cover, head towards the ground, making a low, rumbling growl in its throat as it approached the young man. Bryn half stood, frozen as the massive creature paused. It almost looked canine but was three times the size of any dog Bryn had ever seen. The skin on its snarling face was bald and leathery before turning into a fearsome wiry mane that covered its large muscled back and shoulders.
Bryn’s mind was blank as he stared into the eyes of the predator, a swelling sound rushing into his ears. Every bird and insect has stopped sounding off, leaving the entire wood in silence. He heard the beast’s growl fade out quietly and noticed the minute twitch of its razor sharp claws. With nothing to defend himself Bryn used the only skill he had at his disposal: He climbed.
The second he moved the beast was after him with a sharp, guttural bark and Bryn just barely scrambled up to the first tree branch in reach before the monster had him. Desperately hauling himself further up he could hear and feel the beast clawing its way up the tree trunk after the panicking half-elf
“ RAX! HARMON! ”
Just as he reached another branch Bryn let out a shrieked gasp as he felt a sharp, strong tug on the bottom of his pant leg, pulling him downward and nearly ripping his hand free from its grip. The snarling beast clamped harder at the loose cloth just above his boot, its throaty growls sounding horrifically like sinister laughter.
Clumsily grasping for the knife on his belt Bryn managed to pull the blade free and drove it downward, only just catching the creature point first in the side of its clenched maw. The beast flinched with a low shriek, releasing its grasp on the tearing cloth but the sharp jerk pulled the knife out of Bryn’s hand, throwing it towards the forest floor.
Undeterred, the monster scrambled further after its prey, newly bleeding jaws cracking closed just inches from Bryn’s retreating limbs. The branches were running out and the hungry beast wasn't stopping. This was it. This was how he'd die.
A loud, avian screech filled the half-elf’s ears.
Suddenly the mass of muscle and fur below Bryn was being besieged by a screaming collection of blood red feathers. The large bird of prey grappled the leathery skin of the snarling beast's face with its talons, pecking at its eyes with a razor sharp beak.
Bryn clung to the tree trunk desperately as he watched the beast snap at the winged assailant. With one last lunge towards the bird the large creature lost its footing on the tree’s surface and tumbled groundward, breaking multiple branches on its way down. The bird of prey dived the grounded monster, continuing its assault even as the beast staggered to its feet.
CLANG CLANG CLANG.
The clear sound of metal hitting metal now ripped through the air.
“Aye! AYE! RIGHT HERE! BIG FUCKER!”
Below Bryn could see Harmon, still in his nightshirt but with sword and shield in hand, battering the equipment against each other to gain the creature’s focus. The beast steadied itself, now free from the screeching bird and dropped its head into a threatening bow toward the new threat. Harmon circled the creature slowly, crouched slightly but keeping his feet moving.
For a moment they moved carefully across from the other, both readied and both waiting.
With a furious growling bark the monster threw itself at Harmon. The man swung his shield like a heavy door, knocking the lurching maw to the side and deflecting its deadly bite. Then, as easily as forking a piece of food on a plate, Harmon lifted his sword at an angle and thrusted it diagonally down into the creature's massive neck.
The beast gave a strangled, gurgling shriek as it attempted to pull free but only managed to worsen the fatal wound. Harmon pinned it there as it thrashed before it finally collapsed into a whimpering, writhing pile of blood and fur.
Staring down at the aftermath of the fight below, the only thing Bryn was aware of was his desperate heart, beating harder than it likely ever had in his nineteen years of life. He clung to the thick trunk of the tree, attempting to get his frantic breathing under control. He didn’t even notice the Blood Falcon turning back into a druid on the forest floor below him.
“Bryn?? Bryn!” The sound of Rax’s voice just barely brought him back to his senses and he looked wide eyed down the tree trunk at the concerned elf staring up at him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?” Rax’s voice was heavy with concern but Bryn couldn't open his mouth to answer. Dammit why wouldn’t his heart stop. The young man only managed a silent head shake as he continued to cling to the tree with trembling limbs.
Harmon continued to move carefully, his sword and shield still at the ready as he surveyed their surroundings. “I think that was the only one,” He said, sword still covered in the beast’s blood.
“We should leave as quickly as possible regardless,” The elf said quickly. “The last thing we need is a battle with an entire pack of worg.”
“That was a fucking worg??” Bryn finally found his voice to shriek out his disbelief. “What was it doing here ?!” Rax looked back at the now still body of the massive thing. It was a good question. For people from the western shore like Bryn worgs were purely beasts of legendary tales. Mounts in goblin wars and predators in the most remote areas of the world. There shouldn’t be one this close to human settlement…
Rax looked back up and made certain his voice was calm before speaking. “We don’t need to worry about that. Come on down, it’s safe.”
Bryn nodded, finally feeling his limbs begin to obey him. “Yeah, just-” his voice was still coming out in gaspy huffs. “just give me a minute.” It took more than a few for Bryn’s heart to finally start to slow. He took a few deep breaths and shook the discomfort from his scratched palms, but just as he was about to begin his descent a thought occurred to him that gave him pause.
“... Bryn?” Rax questioned upward as the boy stilled on his perch. Bryn looked down at the two of them cautiously as he regained his grasp on the tree trunk.
“Am I…” He began, just loud enough to be heard on the ground below. “Am I, uh… in trouble?” Bryn immediately felt so stupid for the way he worded the question but every other way he thought to phrase it sounded even more humiliating.
Rax only offered a quizzical look up at the boy. He turned his head, peering around slowly as if searching for something before looking back up with a slight amusement in his voice. “Did you… somehow cause this to happen?”
“No!” Bryn blurted. “The bastard thing came out of nowhere!”
“Then why would you be in trouble?”
“If it’s up to me he would be,” Harmon huffed, looking up at the still clinging boy. “The hell were you doing wandering off by yourself?”
“I wasn’t wandering off! I was looking for Rax!” Bryn shouted back. Rax sighed and looked between the two.
“Alright. I believe the fault here is on Harmon and myself for becoming complacent. If we had been more alert this wouldn’t have happened. You’re not in trouble.”
The admission didn’t move the half-elf.
“...Bryn.”
“Harm’s still mad.” Bryn replied and Rax could hear what sounded suspiciously like a frustrated whine in his voice.
“Bah. I ain’t gonna swat you, Sprout,” Harmon grumbled. “If Rax ain’t mad I ain’t mad. Now come down from there, we need to make tracks.”
At least somewhat confident that his backside was safe —not to mention the rest of his body—he started carefully descending the sturdy tree that had saved his life.
On the ground Rax turned to get a closer look at the dead worg. Harmon stood behind him, wiping his blade as the elf carefully inspected the features of the once fearsome predator.
“Goblin?” Harmon asked in a low voice. Rax shook his head.
“No brand, no sores from a bridle. This one was wild.”
“Hm. A fluke maybe?” The man offered it but his voice betrayed his skepticism. Rax simply shook his head without a word, lost in concerned thought. Harmon watched his friend carefully.
“Fey crossing, then.” Harmon observed seriously. Rax didn’t respond.
Reaching the ground on shaky legs Bryn managed to spy his knife a short distance from the tree trunk. Retrieving it he looked to the blood on the small blade and then to the massive mountain of muscle that lay stilled on the forest floor. Harmon caught his eye and chuckled as he gave the monster’s snout a soft kick.
“Wasn’t lying when I said ‘bigger and meaner things’, was I?” He laughed, resting his blade on his shoulder.
“You killed it like it was nothing,” Bryn breathed.
“Eh. They ain’t so tough on their own. Now when there's a pack of the bastards and they all got them a little feller on their back swingin’ a sword at you? That’s when things get interesting.”
Rax concluded his investigation and rose to his feet. He turned his attention to Bryn who found it difficult to meet the elf’s concerned gaze. Immediately the druid began giving Bryn a once over to check for injuries. “You’re sure you’re okay?” He mentioned nothing about the boys still shaking fingers.
“It- I’m fine I just scraped my arms up a bit,” Bryn grumbled, waving the hands away. He knew he wasn’t in trouble but being fretted over felt almost as bad as when he was receiving a scolding.
“Alright,” Rax sighed. “We will pack up camp and leave as quickly as we can.” Rax turned back to Harmon and began discussing something about their departure but Bryn couldn’t listen. He was focused on the dead face of the monster that nearly tore him apart. He looked at his small blade again, then at the shallow wound he had left in the worg’s snout. The laceration was now covered by the gashes from talons and beak. His eyes drifted to the massive gaping wound in its neck which was now flooding the ground with unnaturally dark blood.
Rax had only gotten a few steps away before realizing the half-elf was not beside them. “Bryn?” He turned and looked back at the boy who appeared so much smaller when standing next to the massive beast. He could clearly see Bryn’s brows furrowed in determined thought as he stared at the monster.
“Would…” Bryn began quietly. “Would I ever be able to fight something like this?”
Rax looked back to Harmon uneasily but the man simply raised an eyebrow back at the boy.
“You wanna learn?”