35. Kal: A Monster

  Reinar tied the horse’s reins tightly to a nearby tree, giving it a calming pat on the head. Then turned to Cerci.

  “Stay here and keep your eyes open.” He said, pointing firmly at the bard.

  “But what if bandits come?” Cerci asked, his eyes widening.

  Reinar exhaled. “Then give them whatever they ask for and pray they don’t kill you.”

  Cerci clearly didn’t like the answer, but Reinar’s intensity kept him from saying anything.

  Meanwhile, Reinar reached into his travel pack and pulled out a sheathed knife. Kal had never seen it before.

  Reinar attached the knife in its sheath to his belt, then took Kal by the hand and turned toward the woods.

  He would’ve preferred leaving Kal behind. But he trusted Cerci much less than a possible beast or monster they could encounter in the woods. The Bard had already proven to be untrustworthy.

  “Stay close at all times, understand?” he asked Kal, voice low and firm.

  Kal nodded without a word.

  The two of them stepped into the underbrush. The forest was thick, the trees tall and spaced close to each other to the point where it was easy to lose the way if one wasn’t careful.

  The trail of blood led forward in staggered drops – each one red, thick, and fresh.

  Reinar crouched near a patch of flattened leaves and pressed two fingers against the blood blot.

  He stood up. “Still wet. Which means whoever came through here did so not long ago.”

  Kal studied the blot and the dragged streaks leading away from it.

  “It looks like the person fell.” He said.

  Reinar nodded. “True. But the trail continues so they likely crawled, got back up and kept going.”

  They continued carefully, following the trail.

  Reinar kept Kal close to his side. He said nothing, but Kal noticed how his father’s gaze checked every direction constantly – watching the trees, the ground, behind them, pausing to listen. His steps were quiet, controlled, and he gestured for Kal to walk the same way.

  He didn’t have the stance of a trained hunter or tracker, but he moved like someone who understood caution. At times, when glancing at Kal, he also looked like a person confused by the fact he entered a potentially dangerous forest with his ten-year-old son. But Kal made sure these emotions had left his mind very quickly with a few magic-induced words.

  Kal was set on helping people. He knew it was na?ve, and dangerous, but he wasn’t willing to leave a bleeding person to die alone.

  At one point, Kal wanted to try and call out for the injured person – quietly, of course – but Reinar’s hand was already on his shoulder before a sound could escape.

  “Don’t shout.” He whispered. “We don’t know who attacked them. We don’t want it hearing us.”

  Kal swallowed and nodded, his heartbeat racing now.

  The blood trail continued, weaving past trees and over a small ridge. The droplets and smaller smears gradually began appearing bigger. At one spot, they found a bark smeared with too much blood.

  “Did they lean on the tree?” Kal asked.

  Reinar shook his head. “Worse. Look closely.” He pointed at the tree and Kal noticed it – claw marks.

  “Something hit him here.” Reinar muttered. “Hard. Look at the depth of this mark.”

  Kal’s skin prickled as he looked at the size of the marks and how deep they entered into the wood.

  “W-what kind of creature even leaves these?” Kal asked, voice shaking.

  “I can’t rightfully say, son.” Reinar replied, scratching his forehead.

  ‘Okay, maybe I was too na?ve.’ Kal thought.

  He wanted to turn around and leave, but at the same time, Ukreus words kept ringing in his mind – just like they had all the past four years. On how he was weak, how he dragged his twin down by relying on him and not fighting back. He wanted to stop being this kind of person and instead to become someone who helps others. Someone who makes a difference.

  He took a deep breath, easing Reinar’s mind with his magic again. “We should keep looking.”

  They kept moving, slower now, Reinar’s hand never leaving Kal’s shoulder. His other hovered near the knife at his belt. Kal never saw his father use any weapon, yet still he channeled calmness and trustworthiness.

  Finally, past a narrow line of trees they saw him.

  A man slumped at the base of a tree, legs splayed out, one arm stretched in front of him like he’d tried to crawl just a little farther. His tunic was soaked in blood around the stomach, and the fabric was shredded in long tears – claw marks, deep and jagged.

  “Kal, don’t look.” Reinar called out to him.

  Kal turned around, his stomach twisting at the ghastly sight.

  Reinar stepped in front of Kal protectively and moved closer.

  He crouched next to the body and placed two fingers at the man’s neck.

  “…Still warm,” he muttered. “But he’s gone.”

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  Kal looked around, everywhere expect the body, throat dry, expecting an attack.

  But none came.

  Reinar’s eyes scanned the ground. “No tracks leading away. Whatever it was, I assume it can fly.”

  Then, standing slowly, he exhaled through his nose and looked at his son.

  “We did what we could, son.” He said. “Now let’s leave and warn the nearest outpost about what we had seen here.”

  ***

  “…deep claw marks, about four of them, maybe five. Spread wide and deep across the stomach.” Reinar was saying as they stood inside the courtyard of Estenford’s military outpost. “The man bled out at the base of a tree, clearly left alive by whatever attacked him on purpose. It didn’t attack him for food.”

  Captain Gilbert Vonn, a hardened man well into his thirties with a shaved head and a slight tan, listened without blinking. His armor, though not flashy, bore the insignia of house Rodan which Kal had recognized from four years ago. It was scarred, worn, visibly overused. A dark blue armband marked his rank, while the sword at his side looked just as worn as his armor.

  When Reinar finished, the Captain exhaled and folded his arms. “Everything you just described sounds a lot like the Griffin that had been terrorizing the roads west of here for the past few weeks. Though it seems like it changed its area of habitat…”

  “Could be a different one.” Vonn’s sergeant, another battle-hardened man who sat beside them, sharpening his blade, added.

  Outside of these two, the outpost only had a handful of soldiers around, despite Estenford being a sizable town. Even the guard towers only had one watchman each.

  “Captain,” Reinar said, stepping forward. “Forgive my boldness, but if you know what the creature is, why aren’t you and your men on the road already? I’ve lived in Terennhill all my life. Never had I stumbled upon a single monster on the roads leading to and outside the village.”

  “Times change, farmer.” Vonn replied. “There are more monsters than ever these days. And a lot less capable fighters to deal with them.” He sighed deeply. “Right now, we have more fronts to manage than you know. I can't spare any men for this at the moment. The Major had left with most of our men on a…different mission."

  “Where to?” Reinar asked, his tone curious. “I wondered why your outpost looked this…empty.”

  Vonn’s jaw tightened before he replied flatly. “That’s not something I can discuss with civilians.”

  Cerci, who had been silent throughout the entire conversation, suddenly spoke. “Well, hold on, Captain, it sounds like you’re not prioritizing this enough. Not only is this Griffin dangerous for anyone…well, alive! What if there were more people on that cart? What if someone survived and is hiding in the woods – injured, scared, waiting for help, or all of the above? Surely you could send a rescuing squad to check.”

  Vonn’s eyes snapped to him, and when he spoke, his voice turned to fire.

  “The last thing I’ll allow is some bard telling me what to do!” He snapped. “Now, leave before I lock you both up for obstruction. You brought us the report. Good. I’ll decide how to deal with it.”

  Cerci stiffened, his eyes widening. “I-I was just – “

  “Don’t care. Out!” The Captain barked.

  Kal wanted to intervene and soothe the man’s emotions with his magic, but Vonn just refused to listen. He turned around and left while his men led Kal, Reinar, and Cerci outside the outpost.

  ***

  The common room of Cooper’s Inn was small and cozy, lit by wall-mounted lanterns. The place was quiet as expected – not many visitors in such a small and relatively unknown inn at the outskirts of Estenford.

  They didn’t plan to make a stop in the inn this early, but considering everything that happened, and the afternoon hour in which they finished their conversation with Captain Vonn, Reinar decided there was no point in continuing their journey today.

  Reinar even considered turning back at one point. But seeing how the Griffin's victim was found in the forest behind them, he assumed that turning back might be even more dangerous.

  They sat at a corner table. Cerci’s plate was mostly picked clean, while Reinar and Kal didn’t seem to share his appetite.

  Kal stared out the nearby window, watching the last seconds of sunset. He pondered Captain Vonn’s words about how there were more monsters today than ever before. He wondered if there was a reason for it.

  “The Captain was…intense.” Cerci finally said, breaking the silence. “Do you think he was bluffing about locking us up? Because I think he would’ve.”

  “He wasn’t bluffing.” Reinar didn’t look up. “I knew a lot of men like him in the past. They’re always dead serious.”

  Cerci went quiet again.

  Kal shifted in his seat. “Where do you think his Major went?”

  Reinar shrugged. “I wish I knew, son.”

  Cerci leaned forward, lowering his voice like he was about to say something that borders on conspiracy. “Maybe the war with Kuisar is finally coming? Or maybe, the monster outbreak he mentioned – “

  Reinar gave him a look.

  Cerci slumped back. “Right. Too much speculation.”

  Kal looked down at his hands, frowning. “If someone was still alive out there…”

  “We did what we could, Kal.” Reinar said firmly, meeting his eyes. “We found the cart. Followed the trail. We reported it to the outpost. That’s more than most people would’ve done.”

  “I know.” Kal said softly, still disappointed. “But it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

  Reinar leaned back in his chair, running a hand over his jaw. “That’s the worst part of this world, Kal. Sometimes doing everything you can still isn’t enough. A man must do everything in his powers, but at the same time accept the fact that there will forever be things out of his control and let them go.”

  The words landed heavier than Kal expected. He nodded slowly, glancing again toward the window.

  “Ohh,” Cerci mused, suddenly grinning. “I’m writing this down if you don’t mind!”

  Kal watched Estenford through the window. In a few months he will be boarding here for middle school, but something about this town just felt odd to him. And deep inside, not sure why, he didn’t want to move here. He didn’t want to live here.

  Maybe he was just hoping that his performance for the Baron would impress the noble so much, he could forget about school altogether.

  Reinar sighed deeply all of a sudden. “Cerci,” he said calmly.

  “Hmm?”

  “Why don’t you go see if the barkeep’s still serving that cake you liked?”

  “Oh, that’s a great idea!” Cerci brightened. “Right, yes! I’ll see if he – wait a minute…When did I say I liked it?”

  “You ordered four slices.”

  Cerci glanced at his empty plate. “Say no more! I’m off to charm the cooks!”

  Reinar waited until the bard had vanished around the corner. Then, slowly, he turned to Kal.

  Kal shifted a little, sensing the weight in his father’s gaze.

  “You know why I wanted him gone?” Reinar asked quietly.

  Kal shook his head, uncertain. “Not really.”

  Reinar leaned forward. “I want you to listen to me carefully, Kal. Earlier, when we followed the blood trail…I felt it, you know? Your magic.”

  Kal froze. “What do you mean?”

  Reinar shook his head while keeping eye contact as if asking Kal not to lie to him. “My primal instinct as a father will always guide me to keep you and your brother safe. To turn away from danger for your sake. But back then…I didn’t.”

  Kal said nothing, but his heart began to beat a little faster.

  “It didn’t make sense at first. Why I was suddenly…less against the idea of entering a potentially dangerous forest with my little son.” He paused. “Until I recalled my son is a mage. A mage who can influence people’s emotions. The moment I understood that, and the illusion was shattered, it was already too late to back away, so I decided to continue.”

  Kal averted his gaze in embarrassment. He was caught.

  “I know you wanted to help someone.” Reinar continued. “That’s noble, Kal. It is. And I’m proud to know my son thinks of others before himself.” He let that sit for a moment before his voice turned firm. “But don’t ever use your magic on me again. Definitely not like that. Not to shift what I feel.”

  Kal looked down, guilt rushing up from him. “You’re right, I’m sorry…”

  “You’re my son, Kal.” Reinar said, as if reminding him. “There’s a sacred trust between you and me. A bond that no spell should ever interfere with.” He reached across the table and rested his hand over Kal’s. “You can talk to me. You can disagree with what I say. You can plead. And you can even rebel. But don’t ever try to influence me in such a way.”

  Kal’s throat tightened, and he nodded slowly. “I promise.”

  Reiner gave his hand a loving squeeze. “Good.”

  A moment passed between them – quiet, warm.

  Then from across the room, Cerci’s voice rang out.

  “Look what I got!” He held a tray with an entire honey cake on it like a coveted prize. “They gave me the whole cake! And we’d only have to perform for them for the evening! What a bargain, right?”

  Reinar sighed, shaking his head. “We should’ve left him in the woods…”

  Kal smiled faintly, still thinking about his father’s words. “We almost did.”