Scribbles and Drabbles

Hunter Thrall 1

A/N: First Written in 2012, updated 2017

Twigs snapped under Luke's boots as he ran through the Border Forest, panting desperately under the strain of not having exercised for a while. He had not been expecting to be running that night. It was his own fault; he should have known he'd be in danger. How could he have accepted an invitation to attend a wedding in the Border Forest? So-called because of the old myths which suggested the land joined the living world to one of the underworlds, tales Luke knew to be true.

The moon was high and full that night, a potent mix making it a night where magic was running wild and free to those who knew it. Luke should never have been out that night. A cold winter wind from the north was blowing through the trees, rustling the leaves—a horse knickered far off in the distance, making Luke speed up again.

'How could I have been so stupid?' Luke cursed himself darkly as he ran, trying desperately to escape his pursuer. There was no sound at the moment behind him, only the sound of his panicked breathing and the twigs breaking under his feet. He glanced over his shoulder, trying to spot any signs of a person, even while knowing that he would see no one. His chaser enjoyed the hunt too much to be seen so soon into the chase. His name was 'the Hunter' after all.

No story portrayed what they were like anymore. What the fae did for fun, how they tormented mortals, human and animal alike for their pleasure. The fae had no concept of restrain. What the fae wanted, they took, either by force or by using twisted games which could turn even the purest hearted soul into a cruel hollowed shell of their former person. Humans were nothing more than their playthings, animals with more intelligence and considerably more fun to mess with and turn mad; Something to play with and discard when no longer useful or interesting.

Except Luke had escaped his tormentor before that fate had befallen him. He had left the fae world before the Hunter killed him for being too old, too dull or just by accidental. Luke had hoped that his former master had forgotten him.

It was a laughable idea. To be forgotten by a fae, especially one such as the Hunter. Luke did not know his actual name. A fae's real name had power, as did all people's true names, however, the fae took extra measures to protect themselves, and no fae had ever freely given their name to another being. The moment a fae learned the real name of a creature, that being was no longer free. Much like a predator seeing an injured prey, regardless of whether the predator was hungry or not, he would pounce and take the kill. If the fae saw the chance to claim something as their own, they would.

Luke paused for a second, leaning on a tree trunk to catch his breath, the rough tree bark digging into his back when he heard it. The sound of hooves of a horse galloping. His body froze, and a chill went down his back. The Hunter was catching up to his prey. Not that there was any doubt he would, but just as it is a predator's instinct to hunt, it's a prey's instinct to run. Cursing fiercely and spitting on the ground, Luke forced himself to keep running, pushing himself to the limit as he tried to escape the Hunter once again. He had only one chance to survive this.

He only had to stay free until the sunrise, and then the magic would be gone. By the fae's own rules, he would be free.

Ten years, that was how long Luke had managed to avoid being captured by the Hunter. Ten years he had been careful. He had stayed in his house after dark on the night of a full moon. The locks of his house-made from iron so even if the fae had found his home, he couldn't enter. In general, he had always stuck well away from the Border Forest, but that night he had messed up.