How to Slay a Beast (Book 1)

Chapter 1 - Merielle

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere!"

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!"

Del and I ran outside, backpacks slung over our shoulders, wooden swords tucked sloppily through the belt loops of our jeans. Our step mother, Jade, was doing the calling after us, we were, of course, doing the running.

"Can't I come, please?" Enoch hugged his mother's legs, looking after us pathetically as we mounted our bikes. His blonde hair ruffled in the autumn wind, in his neat school sweater, he looked like a little doll.

"You've got school in an hour," Jade called, uselessly.

"Enoch can come," I offered, holding out a hand to help him onto the bike.

"No, he needs a helmet if he's going to ride on it like that," she said, firmly, blissfully unaware he rode on it like that whenever she wasn't looking. He loved wrapping his arms around my waist and sitting on the seat as I peddled.

"Mom," Enoch moaned, tugging on her coat.

"Sorry," I called, as Del and I began to bike away.

"School starts at 8:45!" she called.

"We know," we yelled. It was seven forty five. Plenty of time to go out into the woods and defend our tree fort from monsters. Which is all we wanted to do on that fine autumn day. I felt bad leaving Enoch, but he could come out and play with us afterschool, before his mom got off work. she thought he was too little to run around with wooden swords. Thankfully our mother held no such beliefs.

"I'm Cyrano De Bergerac, the greatest duelist in history," Del hopped off his bike, drawing his sword, "I challenge you."

"I accept," I said, jumping off my bike as well. we clashed wooden swords, with mighty cries, as we scuffles through the red and gold leaves littering the forest floor. The tall oaks swayed over head, adding their cadence to our blows.

"Listen!" I cried "Do you hear that?"

"What is it?" Del asked, frowning.

"Werewolves!" I cried, "Run, we shall settle our differences later, now we must defend earth from these creatures."

Together, we ran, swords in hand, towards our tree fort, climbing up the rope ladder, then pulling it up behind us. we leaned over the edges of the solid pine, in the protection of the mighty oak our fort was built upon, slaying the imaginary beasts that hunted us.

Eventually we collapsed, tired and giggling, on the old Indian blankets we had stashed up there. underneath the crude protection of the wooden slatted roof, we had every survival item a child could want. Journals, colored pencils, boxes of crackers and snacks, flashlights, an old lantern that was a prize, a few pots and pans (in case we got any real food), and of course, a few of our favorite books.

" How to Slay a Beast: A Practical Guide. chapter 1, if you are being hunted by a beast, then you have my deepest condolences, you are probably going to die very soon," Del read aloud, opening his latest library book to the first page.

"Go on, that's not very helpful," I said.

"The first step in slaying the beast is to discover why it's hunting you. Have you awoken an ancient curse? Stumbled into its layer? Or have you sought out the beast, wishing to prove yourself as a hero?" he read.

"Hmm, probably ancient curse," I said, nodding, "This is an old forest."

"Okay, skipping to page 18----for beasts associated with curses, then you must use caution when choosing weapons, the guns or bombs will not do, as these modern things have no effect on such monsters. Instead you must use the old arts. Bows, arrows, swords, knives, these types of things will do against a beast," he said.

"We've got swords," I encouraged. For me, at that age, the magic was already fading. I still pretended to believe that monsters stalked the woods, that we were mighty heroes. That evil would die and right would always win.

But I no longer did. It was my last year of middle school and at such an age I was well aware of the cruelties of the world. Our parent's divorce, our mother sitting up at night trying to figure out how to make ends meet working her minimum wage job, while we lived with in a small condo. Our father had kept the house in the divorce, since it had been in his family for years. And then a few months after the divorce, he got engaged to Jade. And then a couple of months later, they got married. Then a year later, Enoch was born. With a lovely nursery and lots of toys and a room painted pastel blue and green just for him. while our mother lived with Del and I, sharing a room, in a tiny apartment, where we couldn't even keep the old Basset dog our mother had had since before I was born. It had to go and live with our grandmother in Phoenix. So, no. I no longer believed in faerie tale endings and happily ever after.

But Del did.

And for some reason that was important to me. Our mom as well. We both enjoyed his innocence. Barely six months old at the time of the divorce, he didn't remember the four of us living in this nice big house, with the tree fort out back every day and mom able to have home made cookies when we came home from school. He only knew he had a big family, me and mom and him and then sometimes our dad and Jade and Enoch. He knew about the divorce vaguely, but he didn't know of a time when Mom would have her nails done and go to the spa with me to have our hair curled, or laugh and scatter a leaf pile after spending hours raking it up big. He knew about mom going to work and coming home late, and me reading him bedtime stories. And Enoch? Enoch was his little deputy, a sometimes partner in crime and it was a shame he couldn't come and live with me and our mom and him.

And so, my mom and I kept the magic alive for him. we read bedtime stories and faerie tales and pretended the closet where the water heater was was a portal to Narnia and we sang and danced and fenced with foam swords and let him be happy. Even if I knew to say my mom was home when she wasn't, when the custody lawyers came around. And even when I knew we went to the dollar store because that was the only food we could afford sometimes, and I knew that she was supposed to get money from our dad every month but she didn't. And she couldn't keep paying the lawyers to fight it. And she was afraid if they did, he would get custody of us because he had the big house and the nice job. But Del didn't need to know all of that. He was starting to learn. But not yet. Please not yet.