Firstborne

2. The Awakening

Glimmers of dawn pierced through the forest canopy, casting slender fingers of light onto the dense undergrowth. By midday, Wes reached a small clearing. His sharp eyes immediately noticed signs of recent activity—branches snapped and scattered haphazardly, footprints embedded in the soggy earth, and the faint, charred remains of a campfire. He crouched, running his fingers over the prints, feeling the cool, damp earth.
"This was recent," he murmured to himself, scanning the area for further clues. The faint scent of smoke and the warmth lingering in the ashes confirmed his suspicion. Standing up, he adjusted his pack and followed the trail, his senses on high alert as he moved forward with cautious determination.
The rustling of leaves pricked his ears. Silently, he slipped behind a massive oak tree, melding into its shadow. A group of travelers emerged from the underbrush, their ragged breaths and wary eyes betraying their exhaustion. Morning light glinted off the delicate features of an elf leading the way, her movements graceful despite her weariness.
An elderly dwarf with a weathered face walked beside her, his steps heavy yet determined. A young human carried a child on her back, the child's arms clinging tightly around her neck. Trailing behind was a formidable orc, brandishing a hefty axe, his eyes sweeping the surroundings with vigilant intensity.
Wes remained hidden, his eyes tracking their movements. He observed the elf's grace, the dwarf's resilience, the human's nurturing care, and the orc's protective vigilance.
Suddenly, a low, menacing growl broke the fragile silence of the clearing. From the forest's edge, bandits crept forward, eyes glinting with predatory intent. Their sudden appearance disrupted the peace, their intentions clear and violent.
Without hesitation, Wes sprang into action. Drawing his sword, he felt the familiar weight and balance as an extension of himself. The first bandit lunged at him. Wes deftly parried, his blade a blur of lethal precision. A swift, powerful counterstrike knocked the attacker to the ground, the clash of metal echoing through the clearing.
The travelers gasped in shock and awe as Wes transformed into a whirlwind of steel. His every movement was a testament to the deadly efficiency of his Firstborne training. Sparks flew as his blade met those of the bandits, each swing precise and controlled.
Another bandit lunged at him, but Wes easily detected the sneak attack. He dodged and buried his blade deep within the bandit's stomach before swiftly dislodging it and slicing him across the chest. The bandit fell, lifeless.
Spotting a nearby stunned bandit, Wes seized the opportunity to disarm him. The angry bandit attempted to steal Wes's weapon but was met with a precise strike across his neck. The stunned bandit clutched at his gaping, bleeding wound, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed to the ground.
One by one, the bandits fell, overwhelmed by Wes's ferocity and skill. The forest returned to silence. Wes sheathed his sword, the metal echoing in the quiet. He turned to face the travelers, his breath still heavy from exertion.
The elf, her eyes sharp yet filled with a gentle authority, stepped forward, gratitude shining in her gaze. "Thank you," she said, her voice carrying a blend of relief and admiration. "We are fortunate you happened to be near us."
Wes nodded, his stern expression softening slightly. "Are any of you hurt?"
The elderly dwarf shook his head. "We're all intact, thanks to you," he said, his voice gruff but sincere.
The young human adjusted the child on her back, offering a smile. "Your timing was perfect, stranger."
The orc merely grunted in acknowledgment, his vigilant eyes scanning the horizon for any further threats.
Wes took a deep breath. "Let's move to a safer place," he said. "We can't be sure there won't be more of them."
The group nodded in agreement, their spirits lifted by Wes's presence as they prepared to continue their journey.
"Why are you here?" Wes asked.
The elf hesitated, then spoke with earnestness. "We're a weary family of travelers just exploring the surrounding area like you seem to be."
Wes folded his arms, still wary. "What brings you through these woods? The villagers know to avoid this forest since I reside here and make the land my home."
The elderly dwarf spoke up, his voice gravelly but firm. "We're not from these parts and only recently moved here. We are a family and wanted to explore the village's surroundings. We didn't anticipate that there would be bandits lying in wait nearby. They attacked us and we ran until you found us and dealt with them."
Wes stood facing the travelers, curiosity and caution mingling in his gaze. "You're not afraid of me at all?" he asked, breaking the silence.
The elf woman stepped forward, eyes glinting with a mix of gratitude and determination. "Stranger, you saved our lives. We owe you a great debt for that. Why would we be afraid?"
A young human, still catching his breath, added, "Besides, we saw the way you fought those bandits. You're no ordinary villager. Who are you?"
Wes hesitated. "To the villagers outside of the forest, I am Wes Garrett. Greatest bounty hunter in all of Hilaeshina."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Wes," the elf said, giving a respectful nod. "But why are you living out in the woods anyway? A man of your renown surely doesn't live a modest life, do you?"
Wes's eyes hardened, old wounds surfacing in his expression. "I live out here because I've been shunned by the locals all my life. They only speak to me when they need help ridding them of something."
The elf studied him for a moment, then softened her tone. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany us, then. Make some friends. My name is Aria. My dwarven father is Bronn. Our orc family friend is Grak. My human brother is Ethan. And this young human girl's name is Lila. I imagine it gets lonely out here by yourself. We're on a quest to find the hidden temple of Azraelkor that was created by the ancient elves of this land long ago. The dark omens grow stronger every day, threatening all our races. We believe you can help us."

Wes stood there, processing the unexpected offer. The idea of companionship, of not facing the coming darkness alone, was undeniably appealing. He glanced at each of them, seeing the determination and camaraderie that bound them together.
Aria extended her hand, her eyes earnest. "Join us. Together, we can face the threats and find a way to stop the ancient evil."
Wes's heart skipped a beat. Elwynn's message echoed in his mind. "And why do you think I can help? Surely you realize that throughout the kingdom, Rorik has banned the practice of religions such as the one relating to your dragon god."
The young human stepped forward, clutching a scroll sealed with an intricate emblem of the dragon god. "We seek a Firstborne, dragon riders of old who used to protect the kingdom and wield mystical powers with their dragons. They rode dragons, even."
A flash of anger crossed Wes's face. "You're speaking blasphemy! I could be hanged, quartered, or tossed out at sea for your treachery."
The young human held his ground, his voice firm. "We saw the way you fought, mister. You fight better than any of us. You saved us earlier. Even if you don't believe, we need your help."
Wes sighed deeply. "How much gold do you have?"
The elf shook her head, eyes earnest. "We don't have much coin, but we offer an abundance of camaraderie, love, and loyalty."
Wes crossed his arms. "I'm only as good as I'm paid. What you're asking can likely get me killed. As skilled as I am, I'm nothing against the king's army."
The old dwarf stepped closer, placing a calloused hand on Wes's arm. "We understand the risks, but these dark omens are a threat to us all. With your skills and our determination, we have a chance. You won't just be a hired sword; you'll be part of something greater. Have you no compassion in your heart? Have you not lost someone you loved or have an ounce of you ready to defend someone or something precious to you? Have you grown so cold over the years that the only motivation you have left is in the form of reward?"
At the dwarf's question, Wes's mind drifted to a deeply buried memory. He saw the flickering image of Riazin, his baby dragon with scales that shimmered like moonlight. Riazin had been more than a companion; he was a part of his soul. He recalled his playful antics, his soft chirps, and the way he would curl up beside him for warmth. But the joy was soon overshadowed by the pain of his loss.
Wes's eyes darkened with the weight of the memory. "I've known loss," he said quietly. "Riazin, my baby dragon, was taken from me. I've felt the pain, the hopelessness, and the bitter sting of death."
The elf softened her tone, her eyes filled with empathy. "Dad, leave him alone," she said to the dwarf, her voice gentle but firm. "If Wes doesn't want to help us, he doesn't have to."
"We will travel by ourselves if we have to," the older human said resolutely, casting a protective glance at the child she carried.
Wes stared at the ground, wrestling with his own demons. He saw the sincerity in their eyes, the raw determination and unity. The isolation he had sought for years suddenly felt like a cage rather than a sanctuary. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll help you find this temple. But remember, I'm doing this on my terms."
"Thank you, Wes," the elf said, her eyes shimmering with hope. "We'll respect your terms, and together, we'll overcome whatever comes our way."
"Let's move, then," he said, his voice steady. "We have no time to waste."
As they ventured deeper into the forest, the newfound alliance carried a sense of purpose and anticipation. Each step they took together marked the beginning of a journey that would test their resolve and redefine their fates. Wes felt a flicker of something he had long thought dead: hope. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but perhaps it also held the redemption he unknowingly sought.