Darak 1 - Smoke and Flame: Part 1

CHAPTER 1

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.

-Kenji Miyazawa

SMOKE AND FLAME

The blade of the ax hit the thick bark of one of the various tall trees in the woods. The tree tumbled with a deep thud that radiated across the forest.

Bending his knees, Darak the minotaur lifts the large trunk with two arms with a gentle grunt, over one broad shoulder. This was all in a day's work for the mighty creature, who stomped through the woods gathering supplies. Food, water, trees for building fires. Up keeping his cabin wasn't easy to work, it was tedious. The constant work caused soreness.

Blue skies and golden rays of the sun surrounded the beast as he thumped through the land. Dirt kicked up with his every massive step. This was the final tree he would bring back to his home.

His brown fur dripped with beads of sweat. His massive bullhead turned left and right. The horns which sat on his head were thick and white, and sharp enough to pierce and slice enemies as the last resort if his hands were bound.

His smooth light brown snout was huge, with two large nostrils which moved with every heaving breath. The smell of pine and crisp air put the beast at ease.

As Darak heaves the enormous trunks back to his cabin, his large, hoofed feet stay undamaged from the various tiny rocks and thorns which littered the woods.

The weather this month was warm, so warm, in fact, that Darak only walked about in a homemade loincloth. His father and mother had taught him how to sew, how to cut bear skins to make heavy garb. How to use every part of every animal to increase survival. Until the day they died of old age, they guided their son proudly through the woods, teaching him how to survive and to ignore humans as much as possible. The minotaur was now in his young adult years, in his prime for strength and agility.

He hadn't visited many towns in his life, he hadn't had much experience with how humans ran their world-but soon that would change. Time and life events can either be kind or cruel and, in Darak's case, both would collide and change his life forever.

Chopping wood in front of the large cabin, Darak would take time in between chops to admire the birds and squirrels which danced around his home, unafraid of the creature. Leery, yes, but animals didn't hate the minotaur. While these anthropomorphic bulls were uncommon, most just lived their own lives and went to bed with anyone who would have them.

Darak was 7ft tall, brown furry arms thick as cowhide and muscles that would make a Greek warrior jealous, but he wasn't a fighter unless provoked. He was a minotaur farmer. Soon to be an accidental warrior.

Once branches were cut and ready to warm his home, Darak stepped into his one-story house.

The cabin held a fireplace in one corner, a large wooden chair sat a few feet from the said fireplace. Windows were made of strong glass which cast sunlight throughout the wooden building. To the left of the fireplace, lied a dining room table with mugs and a jug of water collected from a nearby river. He had a Woodcutter's ax for chores, he had clothes piled in a corner. It was all Darak needed. It was all he wanted.

Nighttime fell, stars covered the sky, crickets chirped in the distance.

Darak sat in his chair, watching the fireplace. The orange and red sparks calmed him, his brown furred body no longer tense. This relaxed state was common for him. He was so tired from the day's work that nighttime was almost a blessing. The cabin was so warm. Now he wore no loincloth, meaning he was nude, sitting in a position that frankly would be inappropriate in any other setting. Nudity didn't bother the creature, it was natural. He didn't think twice about it, clothing was only needed for protection-and protection was in spades in the cabin.

Getting up from his chair, he stretched with a deep groan, his arms and legs sore.

He poured himself a mug of water and drank noisily. Splashes hit the floor of the cabin, but Darak paid no attention to it. As he gulped his second mug, his ear flicked to the sound of a twig breaking in the distance and the sound of human voices.

Four muscular men each held swords and torches, and one 7ft tall, green orc held a large, two-handed golden ax. Each of the soldiers had armor that was heavy. These boots are also coded with metal. The four humans and one orc were prepared for battle.

This was a moment they all waited for.

The orc spoke in a gravelly, deep voice. His armor black. He led the four men through Sitka woods. "We strike two at a time. Remember, we cannot kill the minotaur. The queen wants him alive."

"I can't believe we have to listen to you, Martin. An orc no less." One of the men piped up, he stood right beside the orc. He was hired as second in command.

"Shut up." Martin spat, his teeth sharp, his eyes black. His greasy hair long and tied into a ponytail. His muscles were nearly as well built as Darak. "We'll never get our coin if we alert the beast now, idiot."

"Suck my cock." Whispered the bully. Martin slapped the soldier before continuing with the plan-the plan that would ruin Darak's life.

The minotaur meanwhile had tied a leather kilt to his waist, studded with gold. He rarely wore it but had it in case an intrusion would happen. No one could be too careful in these brutal times.

Darak never wanted to be a soldier of war like most males. Tonight however-the mighty creature would be tested.