Chapter 4: The Elf Hunt

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Chapter 4

The Elf Hunt

A week passed, and Dearekk’s nightmares never ceased. He was starting to fear sleep and the terrors and mysteries it brought. Voices called out to him in his dreams, crying out strange names, and terrible screams of agony.

            Yet, even though his lack of sleep, Dearekk could not have been happier when the first day of the Elf Hunt came around. He quickly woke and went to meet his father on the balcony after he had prepared his armour.

            Of course, there was an unexpected, and unwelcome surprise when he arrived. What he saw was the entire town, and soldiers staring up at him, and his father. His mouth abruptly became dryer than a desert, and his mind became completely blank. In all of his years, he had never like giving speeches. There were too many things that could go wrong.

            Luckily his father saved him from humiliation. “This is my son and heir, Prince Dearekk. He will be joining and will help lead the elf hunt!” The soldiers cheered wildly, but the civilians simply murmured among themselves. Casting a nervous glance at Rith, he caught his eye. Rith simply grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. Smiling, Dearekk turned back to the crowd with a much more confidant look on his face.

            The King began his speech about why they did the Elf Hunt and spoke about how they betrayed their ancestors. Even the townsfolk were cheering at the end, and all that Dearekk could do was look at his father with an admiring look.

            Soon after, a king, five hundred elite soldiers and one naïve prince set out to catch the deadliest game, the elves.

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            When night fell, the company halted the tedious march through the thick forest to set up camp. Dearekk was with Rith, helping set up, when a messenger arrived.

            “My Prince!” a young man, a little older than himself, was walking up to him. “Your father would like to speak to you.”

            Dearekk looked up. “Yes, thank you,” he spoke in a tired voice. He then turned to Rith. “Rith, would it be okay if I left you to finish this up?” he asked.

            Rith just looked at him. “No, Dearekk,” he said with a sarcastic tone, “I expect you to disobey direct orders from your father, the King, so you can help me set up a tent.” The march had tired everyone out.

            Dearekk just shrugged it off and followed the messenger. As he walked through the camp, he saw men everywhere. They were all laughing, talking, and just…well hanging out. He suddenly felt a pang of jealousy, and a wish to be normal, just like them. Not to have all these responsibilities, plus the burden of a kingdom on his shoulders.

            Before he knew it, he was standing in a tent, his father dressed in full battle armour in front of him.

            “Dearekk,” his father said, never looking up from his maps. The maps were elaborately designed, with marshes, forests, and clearings all delicately drawn in. In the center of the forest were two golden cubes, which Dearekk assumed to be their troops. On the edge, sliver spheres surrounded the forest in a wide circle. “Dearekk, I need you to do me a favour.”

            Dearekk snapped out of his trance. “What is it?” he asked, bewildered and wondering why his father would call him only to do a simple favour.

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