A quiet forest of snow-den trees was nestled in the shadow of a great mountain range. A raven, perched on a dead tree at the forest’s edge, was all that could be seen through the snow-covered undergrowth and scattered branches. Its bck eyes, like tiny beads, methodically searched the forest floor, back and forth, as if on watch. Its midnight-colored, glossy feathers reflected the sunlight as the sun rose over the distant mountains. The only part that didn’t shine and made the Raven stand out among its brethren was a dark white, almost gray streak running from its crown to its back feathers in a perfect line.
As the muted of the night gave way to the dawn, the sun released intense heat, unmatched in months, signaling the end of winter’s strangling hold on the nd. An unspoken rule seemed to be announced as the quiet forest awakened. The sounds of bugs were the first thing to be heard. The noise was almost a symphony of life, with their buzzing and clicking filling the area. Following that, the forest’s scavengers, the rodents, appeared. From burrows and tree holes, they scurried out. Tiny eyes checked for predators before the creatures began to forage, knowing many considered them food.
The first thing these furry critters did after waking from their winter slumbers was to go on the hunt. The recent winter had been a longer one than usual, and many of the animals looked particurly starved. From a dying oak’s hollow, a small creature emerged; it looked like a squirrel, but its brown fur was oddly blotched. The off-colored fur wouldn’t look attractive to human eyes. However, its fur was not for beauty; as the squirrel skillfully ran along the side of a tree, its coat helped it to blend into the mottled browns of the wood. The squirrel took quick but silent steps down the tree, heading towards a melted patch of snow that revealed a small shrub filled with bckened berries. In moments, the squirrel reached the shrub. It eagerly gathered and ate the shriveled berries.
Perched above the small shrub and the gleeful squirrel was a raven that had just finished greeting the sun. Its bck feathers were now almost gleaming in the hot rays, its once sweeping eyes now transfixed upon the mottled-colored squirrel below. Having eaten its fill, the squirrel quickly gathered the remaining shriveled fruit, stuffing it into its pouch while its head jerked back and forth. Something in the little animal’s instincts was giving it a feeling of danger. The raven’s intelligent eyes gleamed. It seemed to know the beast below was retreating to its nearby hollow.
Silent as a shadow, the Raven plunged from its high perch, wings barely stirring, and shot toward the descending squirrel. Instinctively fearing danger, though unable to locate it, the squirrel, fur bristling, scurried faster toward the safety of a tree. Within only a moment, it had reached the tree and begun climbing towards the little hole a few feet above the forest floor. As a berry-stained cw touched the hollow, a noise in the wind made it look up. Above, it saw three dark yellow feet with silver cws. With practiced ease, the raven quickly seized the squirrel, its beak piercing the defenseless creature’s eye with deadly accuracy. The beak, looking to be a finger length in size and perfectly straight, easily penetrated the squirrel’s brain, killing it swiftly.
A loud roar that seemed to resonate through the forest floor in mournful accompaniment followed a single, protesting screech from the dying squirrel. Soon, simir mournful screeches accompanied them as the forest awoke, and all manner of beasts began to feed after their deep sleep. With barely a moment to savor its victory, the raven looked towards the forest’s still darkened and shadowy depths after seeing a terrifying figure emerging from deep in the forest. An enormous beast, prowling on all fours, resembling a house cat the size of a horse, padded across the forest floor. Its thick paws, tipped with sharp talons, barely made a whisper. It had snuck up on the raven and was already in a pouncing position. The startled bird could only focus on its gaping maw, dripping with saliva.
Just as the rge cat was about to leap, a rge hand, the size of a man’s head, appeared from a shadow cast from the trees. The hand grabbed onto the leaping beast’s tail and, with a startled roar, the rge cat was pulled back into the shadows. Sounds of crunching and slurping soon rang out, before the pain-filled roars of the cat were silenced. From within the shadows, a new creature of grotesque proportions soon approached where the previous cat stood. Resembling a cross between a slug and a centipede, the creature sported rows of deformed, slime-covered human arms instead of pointed insect legs. It held no eyes on what should be its face, instead a giant gaping whirlpool of needle length teeth. That was currently filled with tuffs of fur and blood. Instead of walking, the arms dragged the hideous, eyeless monster’s slick body along the forest floor and closer to the raven.
With a firm grip upon its prey, the raven finally rose back into the air; without a second look at the monster and no further hesitation, the bird flew above the now melting snow-capped trees, heading straight towards the east and out of the forest. A new symphony is left behind, one composed solely of death’s somber notes. The raven and its prey swiftly departed the forest, leaving behind the trees for a desote, windswept pin. The ndscape was devoid of vegetation, eerily quiet save for the wind’s rush.
The Raven neared a colossal edifice of smoothly hewn stone; it resembled mountains sculpted into precise square blocks stretching into the far distance. The Raven fpped its wings forcefully to soar higher, eventually surpassing a group of observant humans on the scarred battlements as it neared the clouds. The pair of guards were holding what looked like a crossbow in their hands and dressed in thin-looking armor that covered their torso, forearms, and legs. The dusters, thick enough to serve as bnkets and lined with the fur of some white beast, hid most of their armor. A pipe-smoking guard lifted his head to relight his pipe. Above, a bck raven flew, its prey in its talons. Surprised, the guard pulled down his rge, bck lens goggles that were sitting on his forehead, which appeared to enrge as he watched the bird. “How odd. I swear that looks like the same Raven as the other day...”
The Raven soon swept past the wall and left the studious guards behind, becoming a bck dot in the distance. It then flew past another short area of barren nothingness; this area differed from the one on the other side of the wall, however, as it had a uniform appearance, as if people regurly managed the nd so it was ft and filled with no obstructions. A sudden, sharp, piercing sound of metal followed by the crash of something rge hitting the floor made the Raven change its straight direction and edge towards the right. The startling sounds came from a lot of trees. They were all standing in a perfect line that went for miles and covered a vast area. It was something clearly man-made, as the forest of trees did not hold the wild but beautiful look of something born from nature. Near the start of the forest was a set of rge humanoid-like machines, almost standing half as tall as the giant trees themselves. The Raven couldn’t make out much because of its detour around the scary, smoke-bellowing giants, only seeing their rge metal arms ending in huge circur buzzsaws that were slicing trees in every swing. The only other detail the bird could make out on these loud, metal monstrosities was the sight of a humanoid figure strapped in the center, looking to be surrounded by huge gears on all sides, like the inside of a pocket watch, while clouds of smoke bellowed out of a chimney strapped to the back of the giant lumberjack.
After taking its minor diversion away from the odd-looking lumber industry, the Raven soon reached another wall, which was a lot smaller compared to the st, reaching only twelve feet high and having no one standing atop it. Only consisting of a pair of guards standing on each side of a now-opening portcullis. It sped past and entered a metropolis of structures. Reaching far into the horizon, even with the speed and ease of flight, the Raven would need more than a day to reach the end of the structures and towards another small wall. The bird and its prey, however, didn’t travel for much longer and reached an area filled with a collection of shabby buildings, all covered in snow, that was almost as quiet as the forest it hunted in earlier.
The ant hive-like streets crisscrossed each other randomly, with many ending in dead ends, running into the back of other worn-out and rickety buildings. This neighborhood didn’t appear to follow any set rules and looked even more wild than the uncultured forests from beyond the walls. Some buildings were so roughly put together that the weight from the snow had caved in their roofs, leaving the rest of the building exposed to the harsh winter elements. Even with a half-destroyed house, however, the Raven could see shapes moving around within, attending to sputtering fires. Immobile figures, scattered across the streets, resembled ice sculptures, their final expressions permanently frozen.
The bird soon swept past a street with more sturdily built houses with wooden signs hanging above their old doors before finally reaching a rger rectangur building, almost looking like a barn. This building was in a walled compound; the wall, however, was only a few feet high and had seen much better days, with rge parts missing entirely and most of the masonry covered in cracks and moss. The open field behind the barn-like building appeared to be guarded by rusted pyground equipment that resembled defensive tools in case of a siege, with their sharp, pointed edges. Behind the metal instruments of tetanus was a small tin shed, about ten meters long and equally wide. Compared to a lot of the buildings in the surrounding neighborhood, it looked newer built, but not any less structurally weak. The Raven flew to the top right corner of the roof, where rust had chewed away at the metal and made a hole a little over two fists in width, and with practiced ease, the Raven tossed the dead squirrel through the hole and leaped in after.
The soft sound of the squirrel’s unmoving body soon interrupted the shed’s silence, hitting the ground. It was accompanied swiftly by the clicking noise of Raven’s taloned feet on the stone floor. A hoarse but tender voice cried out from within the darkness of the cold shed after a slight pause, as if the one speaking had just awoken, soon accompanied by the sound of chains scratching the floor, came closer to the Raven and its early morning prey. “Jack! You’re finally back. Thank the Soil you’re safe.”
Slowly, a boy crawled out of the darkness, having previously huddled under a thin, tattered straw bnket against the shed. The boy used only one hand to crawl across the stone-covered floor, appearing a little awkward but obviously experienced in using only one of his upper limbs; the boy approached the bird quickly. His other arm appeared to scrape along the floor with barely a movement, as if it was a forgotten piece of clothing, just zily following along with its owner. The Raven, seeing the boy approach from the darkness, issued a happy cry before it quickly grabbed the squirrel and let out another caw in what could almost be called a greeting before it gently flew over to the boy, who was now sitting in the middle of the shed, with his legs crossed. The Raven deposited the squirrel in the boy’s p and perched on his shoulder, its cws surprisingly gentle, as if this were commonpce.
With his right hand, the boy gently stroked the bird’s feathers and scratched the top of the Raven’s head. The Raven, Jack, letting out gentle caws in what sounded like contentment, was clearly enjoying the attention. The boy, although gaunt and pale from either ck of sun and food or the cold or both, had a gentle, almost handsome smile on his face. It was as if he, too, was also at peace when he was stroking the feathers of the far too intelligent-looking Raven upon his shoulder. The boy had light green close to blue eyes and a sandy mop of brown, blonde hair that somehow looked both dirty and as thin as smoke. His face had the tender look of someone who had not yet reached their teens, but also the rugged look and wary gaze of a child who had to grow up too fast in a not-so-friendly environment. The childish voice of someone else soon broke the peaceful moment between bird and boy. “Loch, is Jack back?” With a shake, the boy with the Raven on his shoulder seemed to bring himself to full wakefulness. He then replied to the small shape of an approaching figure, “Sorry, Randall, I was just giving Jack some much-deserved scratches, as he has brought us back a treat again.”
“He has? Thank the Soil. Hopefully, it’s something softer than that spiky thing he brought st time. I was picking prickles out of my gums all night.” Randall squeaked out as he shuffled from the other side of the shed, accompanied by the same scraping of chains as Loch before him. Randall’s voice, which echoed in the shed, appeared as if he was talking with a pair of orange peels stuck to the front of his teeth. The boy soon approached Loch and Jack. Like the other boy, he appeared pale and severely malnourished. His baldness, including the absence of eyebrows, lent a ghostly look to the boy. As he opened his mouth to speak, and due to the sun now exposing its full breath in the sky, leading to light coming through the several small holes in the tin, rusted roof, one could see that the boy Randall was also missing another staple that made up a human, he had no Teeth, he was all gums.
“Oh, wow. A whole squirrel. Good job, Jack!” the toothless Randall said as he swung his feet into a crossed position like Loch. The sound of his metal shackles colliding with the floor drew one’s attention to a set of cuffs on both his ankles that were joined by only a foot-long chain, making it hard for anyone trying to take anything but tiny steps. The toothless boy, upon seeing the dead animal in Loch’s p, gently stroked Jack, praising its might while the bird puffed out its small chest in an arrogant and cocky stance. After praising Jack for a short time, Randall said, “I promise, once Mother Leanne lets us out, I’ll go over to Mr. Danvers’s cart and steal some of your favorite nuts for you.” How the bird could understand what the boy said exactly was anyone’s guess.
The boy Loch smiled slightly at seeing Randall and Jack both smiling in their own way. While Randall was praising the bird, Loch took the chance to look over the squirrel in his p, checking for any infections or Taint upon the beast. He quickly noticed the squirrel’s bulging belly while he was checking over the fur. He put the squirrel back in his p, belly face up, and reached into the pouch with his bony hand. Swiftly taking a handful of bck shriveled berries. Randall, who had noticed the other boy’s action, had widened his eyes as he looked at the fruits. With a swallow of saliva, the toothless boy almost whispered, “Are those what I think they are, Loch?”
Loch was also staring at the small-looking fruits. He counted them in his hand, and there appeared to be exactly ten of them. After another questioning whisper from Randall, Loch broke from his frozen thoughts and looked up at the other boy with true excitement dancing in his eyes. “You’re right, it’s Tantan berries.”
After hearing Loch’s confirmation, Randall seemed even more shocked, whispering again as if speaking loudly would make the berries vanish, “Are you absolutely certain, Loch? We can’t be that lucky; we have never been that lucky.” The st part of his sentence was so low that Loch couldn’t hear it.
“I’m certain. I’ve been reading their descriptions in Granny’s book for weeks and memorized their shape from the drawings and descriptions. I also know they are the favorite food of the Bark skinned squirrel. Which this definitely is.” Loch replied softly too and as if speaking those words out loud had confirmed the sight in front of his eyes, he smiled so wide, his cheeks almost begun hurting, while a slight gathering of tears almost escaped his shining green eyes.
“Yes! Finally, the Soil must be blessing us. With these we can cure Lacey from the Marshes flu, right Loch?” Randall excimed. He too was smiling so wide he was showing off all his gums, something he usually tried to hide with a tight-lipped smile.
Loch’s nod, spurred by the other boy’s words, snapped him out of his excited daze; his youthful eyes now held a shrewd, mature look. As he bent his head slightly in thought, Randall, seeing his friend like this and knowing what it meant, stopped talking and instead began to stroke the raven, Jack, again and praise him in soft whispers.
‘Mother Leanne always makes us wash straight after leaving the Retribution shed outside the door, and there is nowhere suitable I can hide the berries in my clothes. She will certainly take them off me if she finds them. What do I do? What do I do?’ Loch thought to himself as his eyes looked over the small building the boys were in. His eyes scanned over the stone floor as he thought about digging a hole, but he gave up that idea quickly, knowing he or Randall didn’t have the strength to lift the heavy stones. As he saw the cuffs and chain around his ankle, he thought, ‘Why not break free like before? I’ll slip out of the shed and hide the berries. No one would ever know.’ He considered the idea for a moment longer, but felt the idea held one too many risks.
Shuffling the idea to the back of his head as a back up, Loch looked back to his p and stared at the dead squirrel for several long seconds. He gnced back at Jack, a near-spherical fluffball from the effusive praise Randall had showered him with. Loch was about to hit himself for his slow thinking and stressing over hiding the berries when he recalled they were already hidden perfectly. He quickly, but with a careful hand, stuffed the berries back into the squirrel’s pouch and looked over the Randall.
“Sorry, Randall. We are going to have to go hungry for a couple more days. I need to keep the berries in the squirrel’s pouch so Mother Leanne doesn’t find it on us on Earthday.” Loch expined to the now crestfallen boy.
“Ahh, it’s alright. I’ve survived longer without food than this, anyway. Remember the st time we were in the Retribution box for fighting the Bakers boys when they broke Jonesy’s crutch? That was like four days straight; I thought I was going to die,” Randall replied, repcing his crestfallen look with a face filled with false bravado that only a child could muster.
Loch didn’t call out his friend for his nonchant behavior and merely replied, “Yeah, that was brutal. Mother Leanne was truly filled with a Fiend’s anger at us that day; I wish I got the box like you, though; she worked on me at the strapping pole for a good fifteen minutes.” Loch couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the memory and touch some light scaring on his back, visible through his tattered shirt. Deliberately changing the subject, Loch looked to the proud Raven on his shoulder and spoke seriously while making eye contact with the Raven’s bck eyes. “Jack, I need you to take this squirrel and put it in the hollow of the tree outside my window and guard it for me. Can you do that for me, Jack? This is very serious; you must make sure nothing happens to it until Randall and I get released tomorrow. Okay?”
The Raven that was previously puffing its feathers and fpping its wings exaggeratedly under Randall’s praises swiftly turned into another beast entirely. It stared deep into the green eyes of the only thing he truly cared about, as if they were true family, regardless of species, Loch. Somehow understanding the instructions spoken by the boy, Jack nodded seriously and rubbed its beak along Loch’s bony cheek affectionately before swiftly grabbing the squirrel and leaping into the air and out the hole in the ceiling as fast as a bullet. The bird responded to Loch’s task as a soldier would to an urgent order from a general.
After the Raven left, the silence once again returned to the drafty and cold tin shed as both boys began to fall into their own thoughts. The silence wasn’t awkward. The boys clearly shared a bond that didn’t require one of them to fill the silence. Loch’s thoughts were centered on the berries and what he needed to do with them when a sharp pain came from his left arm, took his full attention. Issuing a soft cry of pain out loud, the boy used his right hand to grab his left arm and pull it close to his chest, the left arm filing limply, as if asleep. Underneath the tattered sleeve, the dirty old rags wrapped the boy’s entire left arm, from shoulder to fingertips, like an Egyptian mummy.
As Loch gritted his teeth, the feeling as if a razor bde was being dragged along his wrapped arm wrung his exhausted body of the little energy it had, causing him to lie on his back while he cradled his wrapped arm and shut his eyes as if he could close himself off from the world and therefore the pain. Randall, seeing his friend falling onto his back and looking at the way he was holding his arm, quickly approached Loch’s left side and unwrapped the rags of Loch’s left arm. Loch attempted to wave his friend away, but due to pain or exhaustion, he couldn’t bring much effort into it and eventually just left Randall to unwrap his left arm. In a moment, dispying a body part that appeared eerily simir to something found on a mummified body. A withered arm was soon left in the open air; the skin looked as if it was as dry as a piece of bark, with almost the same texture; it also had bck lines running under the skin that looked like a system of roots running from the shoulder to the tips of each finger. Even the fingernails, completely bck and sharply pointed, looked more like animal cws.
With practiced ease, Randall began a gentle massage of his friend’s frail, almost skeletal arm. The attention pced on his arm brought out several sharp hisses of pain from Loch’s gritted teeth, but soon, sighs of relief leaked out of his mouth instead. After only a short ten minutes, but after what felt like an hour to both boys, Loch croaked out in a tired voice, “It’s alright now, Randall. It’s calmed down. Thanks, mate.”
Randall stopped his soft massaging of Loch’s withered arm and released his own breath of relief from hearing his friend’s voice. Looking back down at his friend’s arm, Randall could see that the root system of bck veins that were previously so prominent had lost their midnight-colored look and took a greyer hue, blending in with the rest of his skin. With careful but skillful hands, Randall swiftly re-wrapped Loch’s arm, covering the ghastly appendage once again. After Loch took several deep breaths to center himself and bring some energy back into his exhausted body, he sat back up. With his good arm, Loch patted Randall on his shoulder and gave him a sleepy but heartfelt smile before he said, “Thank you, Randall. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Randall returned the smile and replied, “What are you talking about? We’re family.”
Loch looked down at his now re-wrapped arm that was sitting in his p and focused his full attention back on the limb; his eyes took on a look of concentration and determination as if he was trying to stare a hole through his flesh. He looked as if he was trying to summon something out of himself; he was trying so hard that sweat gathered on his forehead. Soon, a slight tremor was released from his wrapped hand; if one wasn’t paying attention, it would have been missed, but for only a short moment, it looked as if his fingers were slightly curling on their own volition. A loud exhale, ced with even greater exhaustion than before, escaped Loch; this tiredness stemmed not only from his body but also from his soul’s depths. Randall, noticing the slightly defeated look in his friend’s eyes, carried a trace of worry and slight heartache upon his brow but didn’t utter any words of sympathy or pity, as both boys never wanted either of those emotions to be pced upon their mantles.
With another breath that was soon followed by a self-deprecating ugh, Loch turned to look at his friend and saying with dark humor, cing his voice and gathering darkness, filling his eyes, “Honestly, we should just cut the useless thing off. I swear it feels as if the Taint only increases every year, and it’s been almost two years since I could properly use it.”
Randall shook the look of worry from his face and gave his brother a full gum-filled smile as he replied in warning, “Don’t be silly, Loch, you’ll regret it once you become a Hunter. Healing a corrupted arm is child’s py to them, but regrowing a limb is something only the rich or Soil blessed can do, and you’ll need to save the money from your first bounties on equipment and fusions.”
Loch smiled up at his friend at the mention of himself becoming a Hunter; he remembered one rare night when he was feeling full of confidence for his future, and he mentioned his dream to his close group of friends. Something which, under some unspoken rule, no kid in the orphanage from which they all lived ever brought up, speaking of a hopeful future, was almost bsphemy. Dreams of the future were something precious to the forgotten little ones. They treated them as if once spoken out loud, it was as if their dreams could be stolen by the cruel reality that surrounded them. Loch said to his friend when he looked at Randall’s confident smile, “I shouldn’t have told you that. It was just a stupid, childish thought. I would be lucky enough to secure a job in the coal mines with my useless arm, not to speak of becoming one of the Soil blessed Hunters.”
Randall appeared to look like he was having none of his friend’s sudden defeatism and replied with a voice ced with a resolution he felt deep within his core, “You’re wrong, Loch. I know that you’ll become a Hunter. When Father Jasper speaks from the Book of Earth and speaks of the ones that were frail of body but spirits filled with strength stronger than rock, I know he’s talking about people like you.”
Loch stared into his friend’s steady eyes, almost giving in to an urge he’d suppressed since the night he’d gotten his cursed limb. ‘No more of that Loch, you promised.’ Loch reminded himself.
“I promise you, Randall. I will make it as a hunter and take all of us over the wall to go live in the Stem district. We will never go to bed filled with empty bellies or y shriveling under our bnkets again. I promise.” Loch said as his withered and cwed left hand suddenly gripped itself into a resolute fist tightly before returning to its sck state. A fsh of pain swept across Loch’s face but disappeared so quickly that Randall didn’t even notice.
“Ha! Very good. Don’t you forget it, either. I always wanted to try those cream cakes. I’ve heard some of the guards talking about and pn to eat so many of them that I’ll throw up.” Randall ughed as he spped Loch on his right shoulder.
“Now, just focus on getting through one more night of this shitty pce, and we will be on our way to a better future.” Randall finished as he began to shuffle his chained legs over to where he left his own tattered and threadbare bnket.
“Good point. I still can’t believe Mother Leanne locked us in the box for close to a full week just because of a little fight with the Patterson brothers.” Loch compined as he, too, took his own bnket and tightly wrapped it over his bony shoulders.
“Well, you did say you were going to wait until they fell asleep and burn their house down around them. Ha! You even said that their pig of father’s oily body would help the fmes to spread quicker.” Randall replied with a ugh and a shake of his head at his friend’s ruthless side.
“I didn’t really mean it; what they said about Lacey when they heard what we were talking about made me see red. To be honest, I don’t know what happens to me sometimes; when my blood starts to boil, my head gets fuzzy, and I go a bit beastly. Maybe it’s like the Book of Earth says: there is a little bit of Fiend in all of us. Still, I think it’s odd that Mother Leanne sentenced us for a week in the box for it; I know she hates the Patterson family too; I always hear her muttering about how much of a creepy pervert he is when it comes to drop off the weekly coal.” Loch replied as he zily rested his dirty hair against the cold metal of the tin shed.
“That is true. For some reason, she looked more worried than angry at us this time. Don’t you think...” Randall replied, but cut off mid thought as he heard the sound of boots walking along the gravelly path outside. Loch also heard the noise and opened his partially shut eyes. The two boys stared daggers at the door of the tin shed and, before long, they could tell someone was right at the entrance.
“Loch, Randall!!” A loud shout from an immature but vigorous voice was heard coming from the other side of the tin door, it was soon accompanied by the sound of multiple locks being moved before the sharp sound of rusty hinges sounded out and the half rusted tin door was opened wide letting the full light of dawn to be let in, almost blinding the two bony boys within.
The silhouette of a rger but still pre-pubescent boy blocked the entrance before a clearly male voice shouted into the still silence of the shed-turned-prison, “Well, listen up, you two little scourge-tainted mutants, the light of Earth seems to have blessed you for once, as Mother Leanne has allowed you both out a day early, as apparently a rger group then normal is coming over tomorrow for Adoption Day and she wants everyone to be there for it. Not that anyone in their right mind would choose any of you mutants, but who am I to disregard an order from Mother Superior? Now get up and out. You need to clean yourselves; you stink.”
The two little inmates of the shed appeared not to take much notice of the words the young man in the doorway said past him, telling them they were to be released from their punishment early.
