Entering the forest clearing, I saw the scuffle outside the charcoal-maker's house. Boys, I thought wiping the journey's sweat from my brow, expecting to find Nathaniel and his brothers in one of their usual arguments. Instead, to my surprise, it was Nathaniel and Isaac, a boy who lived two towns to the west grappling in the dirt, each trying to get the upper hand on the other. In a loose circle around the two stood ten other children, all around the same age, watching the fight: some shouting for the two to stop; some shouting encouragement for one of the boys or the other. Through the windows, I spotted Nathaniel's brothers and sister watching fearfully, suspicious of the strange kids outside their home. One of Nathaniel's younger brothers, Thomas, spotted me and started pointing, tugging at the sleeve of his older brother.
Shaking my head at the scene, I unwound a length of cord from my forearm, whispered a single Word of Power into it, and tossed it atop the two entangled bodies. Small runes along the length of the rope glowed orange as it landed across the two children. Each end of the rope snared a wrist on each of the boys, magically twisting, expanding, and entangling each of the boys' limbs until neither could move against the other.
One of the children turned, Ella, a candle-maker's daughter, surprise and embarrassment on her face. "Master Trovanos, we didn't expect you here," she said, her eyes going to her shoes digging in the dirt while a finger twanged the string of the bow on her shoulder.
I shook my head, my glare meeting each of the kids' gaze until they lowered their heads. I walked through the circle, passed the two trapped but struggling boys until I got to the house's window. "Thomas, would you please tell me what's happening here?" I asked the ten year old.
"Master Trovanos, we were just playing, watching Nathaniel practice his magic when those other kids appeared through the trees. They said that you lied to Nathaniel, lied to all of them, lied that they were each the Chosen One. Nathaniel told them that you were training him in magic, that he was the Chosen One, and to leave but they wouldn't. Nathaniel tried to cast a spell, but the bigger kid tackled him and the two of them started fighting." I nodded as Thomas huffed to catch his breath after his quick recounting of the events.
Seeing that the two boys had stopped struggling, I snapped my fingers and the rope went slack. Slowly, Nathaniel and Isaac untangled themselves. Once free, Nathaniel began to spool the rope the length of his forearm around his palm and elbow before returning it back to me. "Master, they say that I'm not the real Chosen One. That you've been telling us all lies. Say it isn't true," Nathaniel said. Though his face appeared stern, his eyes and the tear starting to form betrayed that he must already suspect what my answer to be.
I took the rope and watched it shrink tight around my arm. "Of course they're right," I said watching the young boy deflate, his shoulders and head drooping. Looking around, I saw the same attitude spreading amongst the rest of my pupils. I placed a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "I saw in each of you a unique gift or talent or skill to train and hone in case the forces of Evil, or even the Dark Lord Resurrected himself, chooses one of you as their opponent. For it is the Evil which chooses its own demise."
I scanned and saw unbelief and skepticism on the children's faces. "Take Isaac here. He's a giant compared to other boys his age, and he'll only get bigger and stronger. Isaac, if the Dark Lord Resurrected chose you as his or her opposition, what would you do? How would you fight back against the destruction he would wrought upon our lands?"
Isaac grinned, pounding an enormous fist for a sixteen year old into his palm. The bruiser, the boy stood just over six feet tall and weighed over 200 pounds of muscle, and still showed no signs of slowing down. How Nathaniel's lean frame survived even a minute against the bigger boy meant Isaac had either finally learned some restraint, or Nathaniel was a faster study than I had first believed, picking up on spells and casting faster than an apprentice of just a few months should have. "Along with anyone brave enough to stand with me, I'd lead a charge on horseback against whatever army the Dark Lord Resurrected could muster together, smashing through them with lance and spear and axe and sword until I was finally face-to-face with the scourge itself. Then we would have a showdown where I'd win with the strength of my own arm and the determination of my spirit."
I smiled, nodding. The exact answer I knew you'd give, I thought as I looked to the rest of the children wearing mostly quizzical faces. "Except, Isaac, what if the Dark Lord Resurrected isn't someone or something you could just punch your way through?" I asked, gesturing at David and Fiora.
David spoke first, straightening his ruffled coat. "If it was someone you couldn't punch?" he said, repeating my question to himself. "Perhaps royalty or a religious leader or someone with exceptional charisma. All people that you won't be able to get close enough to, or even if you could, the people would turn on you the moment you assassinated them. No, if you're going to kill one of these types you'll first need to organize a campaign to tarnish their image until the people no longer support them. Then you can remove them from power, or even let the people do it for you if you can stoke their rage hot enough."
"Talk, talk, talk. If anyone gets between me and the Dark Lord Resurrected, I'll just kill them too," replied Isaac.
"Oaf," growled David, "You can't just go around killing everyone in your way. Besides, they could be innocent, tricked into following the Dark Lord Resurrected. If you don't expose his evil first, the people will just think you're there to murder their leader, or worse, commit treason and regicide."
"Yeah, and how about I start with you?" said Isaac, clearly flustered as he grabbed David by the lapels.
"Boys," I said sternly, tapping my staff into the packed dirt. Isaac reluctantly released David who immediately again straightened out his clothes. I motioned for Fiora to continue.
Fiora turned in a circle, eyes looking from the sky to the grass to the woods to the mountains and everywhere inbetween. "Something you can't punch? Well, maybe that means that the Dark Lord Resurrected is simply a creature too big for you to hit?" Fiora stopped turning and stood statue-still. Slowly she raised her left hand, extending a single finger as she did so. Once her arm raised to shoulder-height, a single dragonfly sipped over and landed on her finger. "If the creature is too big for a human to tackle, whether a dragon or a wyvern or a leviathan, you'll need to consult with nature to find the thing to bring the creature low." Just as she finished speaking a large, brown-haired tarantula sprung from inside her long coat sleeve and snatched the dragonfly, pinning it to Fiora's palm. "Nature knows how to humble us all," she concluded, eyes transfixed on the spider and its prey.
I nodded. "Very good. As I said earlier, each of you has a unique gift that would make you a dangerous foe to the Dark Lord Resurrected, who or whatever it might be when eventually the Darkness returns its champion to our realms. I can only hope that whomever it chooses as the Chosen One to stand against it, I have trained you well enough to hold your own against the evil."
A cold wind gusted through the clearing, much colder than it should ever be at this time of the year. The world appeared to darken, the sunlight dimming ever so slightly, as if a god had perhaps dropped a thin cloth upon the sun for just a moment. A single howl cut through the silence like a cleaver, shaking all of us to our core. Then came the growls from creatures still hidden in the shadows of the forest.
"Thank you for bringing all of these potential adversaries together in one place, Master Trovanos. The future Dark Lord Resurrected thanks you for your stupidity, old man," the psychic voice said, its words leaving a film of slime upon my brain. Six pairs of red eyes appeared glowing in the darkness encircling the charcoal-maker's house. Then crept six wolves, saliva dripping from their jaws.
I let out a sigh of relief as I tightened the grip on my staff. "Just six little dogs come to play. Almost a dozen potential enemies gathered and that's all the Dark Lord Resurrected deems necessary to cut them down and secure his future reign. Either this enemy isn't too smart, or isn't strong enough yet to send at least a competent minion to do its bidding," I said, full of bravado hoping to ease the children's fears for though we might outnumber the enemy two-to-one a pack of wolves were still dangerous and none of my apprentices were yet fully trained.
A Roar! shook leaves from trees and sent a terror coursing through me. A shadow moved, stalking, encircling the clearing, barely visible, until it finally stepped into the light. A giant of a wolf, as tall as the house at its shoulders, towering over all of us. Grey fur streaked with black, saliva glistening, dripping off of its fangs. Its piercing red eyes though is where the true horror lay, eyes that held my gaze; eyes filled with a hate deep and pure as if my very existence was an insult needing to be ripped, torn from this world.
"Very observant, fur-less one. The Dark Lord Resurrected has yet to return but I, Kreterack, the Wolf-God, and my kin shall yet secure their rule by eliminating any who may stand against. A final lesson for your students: observations will not protect you from fangs and claws." The Wolf-God growled, its voice psychically seeping into our minds. The six smaller wolves copied the larger one, growling and salivating, though standing their ground, waiting for orders.
Before the pack could converge any closer, I ordered all of the smaller children into the house. "Isaac and Nathaniel stay with them." Grabbing Nathaniel, I said, "Focus on the basics. Just keep the wolves away from the kids. Also give Isaac an axe. I don't want him trying to punch wolves." As the two boys followed the five smaller kids, I looked at the ones left. "Ella, Hugh, and Luther will handle the pack. Keep them in the clearing and watch their movements. David and Fiora, you two keep the big one distracted in the forest. We'll come to assist once we're through here." Three of the kids came to stand next to me while David and Fiora sprinted passed and into the woods, followed closely by the giant wolf, seeking to ensure none escaped.
The smaller kids secure behind walls with our strongest arm and an apprentice magician, and the largest and most dangerous enemy distracted by our fastest and most distracting, I focused my attention on the six wolves stalking closer, encircling us. For the second time today, I began unraveling the rope from my arm when an elbow nudged me in the ribs. Looking down, my eyes immediately focused on Hugh's head of long, unruly red hair. An odd sight to see as he usually pulled the hood of his hunting cloak over his head to conceal himself from his prey. The elbow nudged me again as the fingers of his other hand touched the handles of each of the knives on his belt. The other two kids had formed the remainder of a triangle around me. He wants to be seen, I thought, staring at the salivating wolves, wants to be tracked. A step at a time, I moved and the children followed in formation, until the elbows stopped. We stood in a spot of no discernible difference to me than before except we were now about fifteen feet further from where we started.
"Stay together for now," said Ella as she notched an arrow in her bow, "They're scouting us, trying to find an opening to bring down the weakest first." Her eyes, a piercing green that seemed to stare right into you, glared at Luther for a moment before going back to the wolves.
Luther, who managed to pick-up a fallen branch off the ground, trembled. "Hey, I saw that. Why'd you look at me? Maybe they want the old liar instead?" he blurted out, fear filling his eyes.
"No, it's you they want," Hugh said, quiet and sure, his fingers dancing along the knives at his belt. "The Wolf-God knows Master Trovanos is a wizard, old and frail as he may seem. But you. They can smell the fear coursing through you."
"Well fuck this then," said Luther, throwing his branch over the heads of the wolves and outside their circle. "Hey, I surrender, okay? Call the big dog back and he can have the old man. I don't even know why I'm here. I'm not good at anything. I think this has all been just a big misunderstanding. " He raised his arms in the air and began walking toward the nearest wolf, perhaps hoping that it just might let him walk free.
Hugh tossed a knife at the wolf, burying it in the dirt as the wolf jumped backwards at the last moment. "You idiot, get back here now!" he growled, pulling the hood of his dirt-colored coat over his head with one hand, and freeing a hatchet from inside with the other.
"Behind you," said Ella. Eyes that saw everything paired with a mind for analysis, the archer put an arrow into the wolf lunging at Hugh's back. A little high, striking the wolf in the shoulder, but still remarkable for someone who had never pulled a bowstring until just a couple months ago.
As the wolf tumbled into the dirt, injured but not dead, another took advantage of the distraction and sprinted from their wheel toward Ella. Just as it got within range to lunge however, Hugh ducked down, his hand disappearing into a pile of leaves that just happened to be clumped at his feet. When he rose, it was with a length of rope which he yanked taut. My eyes tracked the rope quickly exposing itself like a striking serpent. The noose at the end caught a paw of the charging wolf, and jerked it off-balance. Splayed briefly on the ground and defenseless, it was enough time for even an amateur archer to hit their mark, and Ella took full advantage of the situation, this time putting an arrow through the wolf's eye.
One enemy dead, I watched three others continue to circle, now a bit more hesitant. No, I spun, taking count again. One with an arrow in its back, two others uninjured. Two of them must've used the brief sortie to break from the pack. But were they after the smaller children, or going to help the Wolf-God? My question was answered by Nathaniel's brief shout and Isaac's booming voice.
"How do you see their next attack?" I asked Ella, the enchanted rope still in my hand.
"Not sure," she said, a new arrow notched on the string as her eyes watched the wolves continue to circle. "Typically wolves would've run off for weaker prey by now. The Dark Lord Resurrected and the Wolf-God must have some command over them."
"How about some killing magic, or a fireball, wizard-man?" said Luther, unarmed and spinning in circles so fast I was surprised he didn't fall over, or puke himself.
"As you said earlier, I'm an old man. I simply can't weave magic together as quick as before, and I never expected the Dark Lord Resurrected would strike so soon or against so many at once," I said.
A howl erupted from the woods, sending birds scattering into the air and a shiver down my spine. The Wolf-God hunting its prey, or perhaps signaling he caught them. A corresponding howl went up near the house, just out of sight, though it was quickly followed by another of Isaac's shouts.
"They're striking now, all three of them at once," Ella said, pulling back the bowstring. "The Wolf-God calls on them, and so they'll strike. Definitely against Master Trovanos because he's the oldest, and Luther because he smells of fear and piss. I'd expect the third to come after me because Hugh is obviously bigger, but they've seen me kill one and injure another, so they might consider me the bigger threat. Take down three, then focus on the remaining."
I felt a hand grip my shoulder and start to turn me following the wolves' rotation. "Keep an eye on them," said Hugh quietly for just us to hear with one hand on my shoulder and another on Luther's, "We'll make our own wheel. If the three of you can take down the two healthy wolves, I can handle the injured one on my own. Just make sure I'm in front of it when they strike."
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