Chapter One
The deep woods of northern Elaech could frighten the bravest of men during the day, to say nothing of the night. Trees ancient and enormous, trees that stretched to the sky and let vines hang down from the highest canopies populated them. Since Elaech had become a nation, many kings and lords alike had attempted to cut down this forest, which were said to be haunted by the souls of the damned of Dialantar, but with each tree that was felled another, larger one took its place. It was a terrible place, this forest, and it was there that the Brethren of the Boar called home.
It had been high noon when Danar had entered into the thick of the trees, but the boy would never have guessed that from within. Beneath the dense canopy high above him, it was always night, despite the time outside. He was to meet with the Brethren that afternoon, in one of the few clearings in the woods, where they had set up their base of operations. He had to find it first, and that meant wandering in the woods until then.
He was fourteen years old, and yet every noise of the forest sent shivers down the spines of himself and his only surviving friend, a boy called Rohn. They two had escaped the horrors of battle, wherein many of those that they loved and cared for had been slain in the field. They had survived wandering the countryside alone, scrounging about for food and water, sleeping under hedges. They had gone through so much, but this was worse than anything they’d ever known.
“Look at that, Danny,” Rohn said suddenly, using the name that only he had ever called Danar. He was pointing at the ground in front of him, where Danar saw only fallen leaves and dirty earth. Danar saw nothing, but Rohn’s face looked greatly excited—or terrified—over what he apparently saw.
Danar looked the spot carefully over again, but when he still saw nothing he shook his head. “What are you on about, Rohn? It’s only leaves, there’s thousands of them around,” he said, an eyebrow raised.
Rohn, however, shook his head and sighed at this, still pointing. “They’re not just leaves, Danny,” he said. “Well, they are just leaves, but them ones look like someone’s been walking on them. They’re all crunched up.”
“Those ones, Rohn,” Danar corrected his friend. Rohn had grown up in a small village with no parents to guide or educate him, and he was still practicing proper language. “Either way, it was probably just some old animal. A deer running away from a predator, most likely,” he argued.
“Let’s follow it anyway, though, and see who’s right. If I’m right, then we can get on with our business. If you are…well…you aren’t.”
Danar opened his mouth to argue further, but was stopped when Rohn raised his hand to interrupt him. “I don’t care for your arguments, Danny. I’m goin’ to follow it, and you can trail behind me if you want to.”
“Going to,” Danar began, but the look on Rohn’s face as he heard the correction told him to be silent.
“Stay here, then, Danny. I’m going.” And with that, Rohn turned around and stomped off, making enough noise to attract any sort of hideous creature. In the darkness, it was not long before Danar lost sight of his friend, and Rohn was carrying both of their swords at that time. He hurried after, running through the leaves.
He soon caught up to Rohn, who was walking with his nose stuck high into the air like some offended nobleman, and pushed him roughly to the side. “Hand over my sword,” he laughed, and the two soon got back to following the trail in the leaves through the woods.
As they walked, both Danar and Rohn began to see more obvious signs of recent passage in the area—be it human or otherwise. Twigs were snapped off of trees; plants that shot up from the soil were bent over at unnatural angles. Whoever had passed this way before had made very little effort to conceal his passage through. The two boys walked quietly from there, trying to make as little noise as possible in the hopes of going past without drawing the attention of the monsters and ghosts that might well be living there.
