Whistle of Death

The Xylak

The sun dipped below the horizon as I prepared to set out into the wilderness. Fennik had silently helped me pack my few belongings, which was made up mostly of weapons, sending me only a questioning glance every so often that I avoided meeting. I was not mad at him, I don't think I would ever be capable of being angry with the man who had kept me alive all these years. I was, however, a little shell-shocked by his sudden revelation.

Now knowing my true origins and the reason behind the scar I was always told I was born with... it was confusing to say the least. Why had I been taken from a seemingly harmless man to be raised by an extremely powerful clan that shouldn't have even known of his or my existence. I had too many questions and no path that would lead me to answers: except one. The only man that might have some sliver of an idea is the very man I was aiming to kill by the end of this journey.

The internal conflict brewing inside of me felt almost like a betrayal. On one hand I wanted this man to suffer from the most brutal and gruesome death, but on the other I wanted his help in finding out who I really was.

I gave Fennik a sad smile as I hugged him goodbye. His thick arms engulfed me in a bone-crushing but otherwise comforting embrace. "I'll see you again, in this life or the next." I whispered as I let him go and stepped back.

He nodded to me before touching his forehead and motioning his hand towards me, a universal symbol for farewell. I returned the gesture and turned on my heel, silently disappearing into the brush.

--

Night had fallen a few hours ago and I could already tell this trip was going to take me much longer than I had anticipated. It was this moment, as I ripped my foot out of some mud that had suctioned me in, that I regretted abandoning my beast taming ways. If I had a Wylik, a larger winged creature used for transporting one to two people, or even a Rafit, a six-legged beast that was commonly used to transport goods in caravans, it would make this trip much faster. At this rate if I stopped only to rest at night it would take me about three weeks to reach the capital but that did not factor in time needed to hunt or forage for food. I did not have enough provisions to last me the amount of time this would take considering I was not taking roads but rather following a straight path through forests and swamps directly to the capital's walls.

I had half a mind to turn around and try again when I was more prepared, but I knew I couldn't let myself do that so I pushed forward. The mud was starting to thin out in certain spots and I slowly began to realize that if I was quick with my steps that it would be firm enough to hold me for a short moment and the longer I stood in one place the more I sank.

It was not smart to run through the swamps as the noise I was creating would alert every animal within throwing distance, but I did not care. The large carving knife strapped to my hip would do well against most swamp creatures. I had heard legends of the swamps surrounding the Southern Isles as a child, of the elusive creature known only as the Xylak. The tales varied depending on who told them but there was always one common theme amongst the stories. The Xylak was a monstrous beast around the size of fifteen grown men and its razor-sharp fangs could pierce through even the strongest armor. It had four legs and a curved tail with a poison filled stinger attached to its end. It was said that if you looked into its large yellow eyes that you would fall into a hypnosis of sorts and be unable to move even as the creature ate you alive.

I chuckled softly as I remembered the first time I had heard that story. I had hidden in my room for a week, petrified of the possibility that the Xylak could be just outside my door. It took many hours of coaxing from my mother before I was willing to venture out of our house.

As I grew older the confidence that the Xylak was real slowly began to fade. I had ventured into these swamps more times than I could remember and never once caught a glimpse of such a creature. Most of the swamp inhabitants were minor venomous snakes and Yiffar, a fluffy rodent like creature with wings only big enough to help them glide roughly a hundred feet. I could hear the Yiffar chittering up above as the nocturnal creatures scurried along the branches intertwining overhead.