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Staff Scabernac
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 Subject: finally done, lol
The nights are growing colder; it is that time of the year again. He leans against a tree as one lonely leaf floats to the forest floor by his feet on the evening breeze. Slowly bending down to pick it up and gaze at its golden colour, he is flooded with memories of the past. The changing of the leaves always has this effect on him; when you've walked the earth as long as he has you witness many things, both good and bad. Yet the seasons are constant. The beauty of the fall colours never fades, like the phoenix, the leaves will return from the ashes of winter in the spring. Holding the leaf he thinks for a moment if he will ever get this chance. With a heavy sigh he releases the leaf to the wind to find its final resting place somewhere in the forest... if only he could join it he sometimes thinks.

The world has changed much in his time upon it. He remembers the harsh cold of his earlier days. When to become a man you where given a knife and sent into the tundra... he still carries that knife with him after all that time to serve as a reminder of who he is. In those days everyone worked together just to survive... its amazing how little time it took for that to change. Not long after being granted his 'gift' from the old ones he was able to witness the first wars. Men on an ego trip deciding they deserved more than others for some unknown reason. He has seen it happen so many times now that it seems normal, like an aspect of humanity. So much blood has been spilt in front of his eyes and at the end of his own weapons that he can never wash it from his mind.

Dwelling on these thoughts never does any good, so he shifts his wait from his haunches and rests his back against the tree with his eyes closed. Time slowly passes as he clears his mind of thoughts so as to focus his body when he hears a twig snap off to his left and he smiles. "Hello old friend" he whispers as a large wolf slowly stalks towards him before lying down with his nose nuzzled into the folds of his clothes. Damian always lifts the silent forest dweller's spirits; whoever said that the dog was man's best friend was very intelligent. Looking down at his friend a sad thought crosses his mind... he notes how his friends fur is no longer smooth and shiny and how the whiskers on his snout are starting to turn white and become more noticeable.

Scratching him behind the ears he whispers, "So this is why you have visited me tonight... it is your time to join the old ones. Rest here and I shall be back in a few moments."

After making a bed of leaves so Damian would be more comfortable, he goes off into the forest a short way before drawing a knife and waiting, standing perfectly still in the moonlight. Suddenly he turns and releases the knife. With a small smile he walks in the direction of his throw and picks up the body of the hare he hit before returning to his camp. After checking that Damian is still with this world, he cleans his knife and prepares the hare for cooking on the spit over the fire. As the hare begins to slowly turn a golden brown he sits back down beside Damian with two branches and that stone knife from his trials of manhood. He quickly carves out the shape of the hare and begins to carve a much more detailed likeness of Damian, including lines for the fur and even teeth; leaving out only his friend's eyes. Before getting up to fetch the cooked hare he whispers to Damian, "the eyes are the portal of the soul and shouldn't be added until after you are at peace my friend."

Tearing off a small piece for himself, he then places the remaining hare in front of Damian. "Every great soul deserves a well cooked last meal, enjoy while I go place the soul of the hare in its final resting place." Hearing how shallow Damian's breathing is as he munches away at the food before him, he decides there is very little time and he must act fast. Returning to place where the hare fell, he quickly digs a small whole and places the carving at rest. Saying a small prayer of thanks to the soul of the hare and to the old ones, he fills in the hole with the rich soil of the ancient forest. After returning to the camp he sees that Damian still had the strength to clear the bones of all their tender meat and smiles. He sits down again with his back to the tree and lifts Damian's head onto his lap. Scratching him behind the ears and making sure he is comfortable, the man relates the stories of their past adventures over the last 20 years. From finding him as an injured cub left behind by his pack and nursing him back to health, to watching him grow into the powerful beast he is now, to all their hunting trips and battles to stop the evils of man. Sometimes he smiles, sometimes he is depressed, but it is only when he hears the final death rattle that a single tear slips from the corner of his green eyes for the first time in hundreds of years. The death of a friend or a loved one is always hard, but when someone is your most trusted friend, and your only real friend for so long, it is much harder.

"I will never forget you old friend," he says as he wipes the tear from his cheek and uses his knife to remove a small piece of fur. He then gets up and works fast, collecting as many stones from the forest floor as he could find. Once he has enough he digs a small hole at the base of the tree and places the carving with the eyes now included to its final resting place. He then moves the body of his friend around the tree so that he encircles it and begins to place the stones. When his is done the final tomb of his friend, the stones reach almost the height of a man up the tree.

"May your body feed this tree and your soul inhabit it so that you may live on for many hundreds of years, always diligent and watching over this forest that you loved so much."

With one last sigh, he extinguishes the camp fire and lays his head near his friend's final resting place, the fur still clutched in his hand. His final thoughts before drifting off to a dreamless sleep are of the single leaf from earlier. Like the coming of fall, his friend's death is the end of an era, but also like the leaf it is a symbol of new beginnings yet to make themselves clear.
______________________________________________________

He is awoken by the sound of the birds preparing for their winter flight to warmer climates. His heart still heavy with the loss of Damian he begins his work at closing down the camp. Dwelling here will do him no good, he must move on as soon as possible. Before long he is wandering aimlessly down a road through the forest. Not long after setting off on this trip he is confronted by five mean, obviously bandits looking for some gold, blocking his path. They draw their weapons and make clear their intent. He looks at them all and warns them that he is not in the mood for this kind of thing and they had best go home now while they still can. They ignore his advice. With a sigh he moves quickly, taking out the two bandits in front of him with a knife to the forehead each in one fluid motion. The look of shock still in their greying eyes, he removes his great sword from his back and turns, relinquishing the heads of two of the remaining three men from their necks before the first two even fall to the ground.

The one remaining opponent doesn't know what to do with himself after this display of fighting prowess and drops his sword before running off in the other direction. With no desire to spread more blood then necessary, he lets the would be killer escape. Retrieving his blades and cleaning the blood from them, he continues on down the dusty road until he reaches a quiet village.

Not usually one for drinking, he figures a nice mug of honey mead would likely lift his spirits a bit so he heads into the pub with his hood drawn and orders his drink before moving off to the darkest corner. Drinking the mead in slow sips, he finds himself once again thinking not only about the past, but also what to do with his future. This is as good a time as any to fully come out of hiding from the forest and rejoin the world of men.

Before long his conundrum of thoughts is interrupted by a shadow crossing over his table. The man he had let escape was back with some more heavily weaponed friends. It never ceases to amaze him how stupid and greedy humans can be.

"What do you want no friend?" he quietly asks.

"You are no friend of mine stranger, and what I want is vengeance for the lives of my friends" is the reply, said loud enough for the entire pub to hear. Trying to emphasize the point he slams his hands down on the old table only to have them both pinned there by knives. Through his screams of pain the man in the corner can be heard saying:

"You and you're 'friends' tried to rob me at the end of a sword. Last I had heard that is illegal and any man is allowed to defend themselves in such a situation with their own sword. This is all I did, and I even let you live when you ran screaming like a small child still suckling it's mother. If you would prefer to die I can grant you that wish here and now despite my distaste for blood. The choice belongs to you and your friends." To further emphasize this point he draws two blades from his back of a medium length, too short to be a sword, too long to be knife, but exactly the right size needed to strike down as many men as required in such a small enclosed space. The group of men quickly back away and run out of the pub after hearing the story and seeing the speed with which he moved; none of them liked the idea of separating their heads from their necks.

Turning to the man pinned to the table he slowly works his knives out after putting away his blades. "This is the last time I will spare your life, come near me with such malice again and I will strike you down before you even open your mouth, no get out of my sight."

Just as he thought, the man once again ran away, this time hopefully to not return for quite some time. Once the bandit is out the door the hooded one realises that all the eyes in the pub are on him... Downing the rest of his mead he leaves the pub, dropping a fat sack of gold on the counter with a whisper to the barkeep of, "that's for the damages to the table, the blood, and the disturbance," before leaving the pub behind, but he doesn't get very far.
He can hear someone shouting behind him and the sound of running feet. He turns and stops dead in his tracks.

Standing before him is a beautiful lady in the peak of her womanhood. She was wearing what he gathered from the others to be the height of feminine fashion for this time, but he could still make out the faint traces of armour beneath her clothes and what appeared to be the hilt of dagger; he smiles at this.

"What can I do for such a ravishing warrior lady on such a fine day as today?" he says, totally catching her off guard, but she shakes it off quickly enough.

"I saw your umm... 'performance' earlier in the pub and wonder if you could do something for me?"

Thinking it is just another silly young lady looking for a knight to rescue her children from a witch or fetch some cat from a tree before it gets eaten, he looks at her sceptically and says to go on.

"Well, my family is very prominent in this town, and they have decided that there should be a tournament held. It will test everything you have, not just your strength or you ability with the sword."

"I do not often enter such things but pray tell, what prize should the victor receive?" he asks the lady in response.

"That's easy good sir," she smiles, "the winner will receive my hand."

Caught by surprise by this, he can do nothing but stare at her and take her in from head to foot once again before she breaks the silence with, "I guess from your reaction that you will enter?"

"Yes... yes, of course I will, and I am honoured that you would request my attendance personally dear lady."

"Good, I will tell my family you are entering. Now, before I go, you should know that I am called Arianna. What may I ask do you go by so that I may tell the judges?"

"I most commonly answer to Scabernac," he manages to reply as she turns to go.

With a final look over her shoulder before leaving she says, "Nice to meet you Scabernac and I will see you at the tournament, but be warned the competition will not be easy."

He smiles and mutters to himself, "Yes, new beginnings indeed."
Time Posted: September 6 2009 10:24 pm EDT
Last updated: September 15 2009 03:17 pm EDT


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