VARDAN
The sound of my boots crunching against the round pebbles along the edge of the stream greeted me as I crouched down at its border, refilling my canteen with the crisp water flowing before me. Gazing down at its ever changing surface, I caught a glimpse of my face. Streaked with dirt and sweat, I looked horrendous. Luckily for me there were no ladies amongst our hunting expedition, or I might have found myself making a bad impression.
Staring at my watery reflection, I couldn't help my mind drifting. At the age of eighteen years, I now had to start looking for a bride with whom to share the remainder of my life. I would be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit daunted. For the only eligible ladies of my village were, let's say, less than fair. Or alternatively, way out of my league. Though, if I were being honest to myself, I wasn't the least bit dazzled by any of the ladies of my village, whether they're in my league or not.
" Vardan," my father called from across the clearing, " Hurry it up would you." Glancing up, I saw the impatient look cross my fathers face. Quickly screwing the top of my canteen closed, I stood back up on my feet, jogging over to where my father waited where the clearing met the edge of mountainous forest.
" Sorry father," I murmured as I brushed past him. Nothing else needed to be said. He knew exactly what was keeping my thoughts occupied. It hadn't yet been a fortnight since my father had sat me down and told me of my duty to the village and to our family. To carry on the family name, and marry.
It wasn't a topic I had thought about often, and one that now kept me up at night thinking. I didn't want to be married to an ugly woman. Nor a dull one. Neither did I want a timid, or submissive wife. To me, that was simply another word for boring.
So while this time of year, in which the able men of the village ventured out of the safety of the town limits to hunt wild beasts and replenish the food stores, was typically one I looked forward to, now it was hard to keep my mind in the game. As one of the few young men in the village, this annual hunt was a chance to roughhouse away from the reproachful eyes of our mothers, and display our skill with the varying bows and spears used to hunt the beasts dwelling in the woods just off our borders. However, this year, I couldn't get my head in the game.
After venturing through the mountains for a little over a week, I had caught nothing more than a small fox that served only good enough for that night's meals. Now, as the wind whistled all around me, the smell of pine ever present, I carried on with my fellow men, shedding the worries hindering me. Today was our final day of the hunt before heading back the way we had come. I would make the little time we had left worthwhile.
As I caught up with the other boys my age, immediately starting a round of shoves and hair messing, I could feel the smile returning to my face. This is where I belonged. In the present, not dwelling on future concerns that would do me no good but to lose valuable sleep and energy.
Continuing down the paths bordering the river, we crossed at the next shallow patch, over to the other side of the river. We rarely went this way, as this area was typically more dangerous, inhabited more by bears than the typical boars and wild rams we go for.
As our boots scrunched on the path I looked over my shoulder at Milo, talking in a hushed tone so as to not scare the creatures that may be nearby. "Hej Milo. Any catches?"
Glancing up from where he had been studying a patch of dirt right next to the path, the corner of his lips turned down in a frown. " No, but come look at this. This wasn't left by any of us."
Walking over to the bit of earth that seemed to be giving Milo a headache, I looked down to where he was gesturing. In the mud right off the path there was a very distinct boot print, except it was very clearly not ours. At almost half the size of our own boots, this print could only have been left by a youngling, or a young yeoman, both of them completely out of place.
We were a whole week into trekking through these mountains, following paths that only our village knows about. Our village was the farthest north of all the various communities around, so no one other than our one people should be in these mountains, let alone someone with the skills needed to survive.
There was a reason we hunted in these mountains as a group.
" We must tell my father immediately," I murmured in an urgent tone to Milo, knowing he was thinking the same thing I am. " Wait here, and keep your eyes peeled for anyone off the path. Whoever entered these mountains are either dull for entering them alone, or are trespassing on our turf. Either way we must find them." Waiting for his nod of acknowledgment, I hurried down the path in search of my father.
Spotting his broad back up ahead, I weaved through the men trudging through the spring muck until I came up right beside him. " Father," I hissed, trying to get his attention without evoking the wrath of the avid hunters around me. " I must speak to you."
Gesturing to where Milo waited behind the group of men, I turned back, hearing the heavy thud of my fathers steps behind me. Hurrying over to where he waited, I waited for Milo to explain the situation. I watched as my father went from curious, to alarmed, then quickly to worry. He could see the exact moment when his father's papa bear instincts kicked in.
After hesitating a moment in contemplation of the situation presented before us, he spoke. "We can't order a complete search for whoever was misfortune enough to land themselves in these treacherous mountains, but we certainly can keep our eyes open." Pausing momentarily, he spoke quietly. " Let's just hope we're not too late."
A second later my father had already set off down the path, joining up with the other hunters, presumably to warn them of the change in circumstances. We must hope for the best, for there is never any guarantee of exiting these mountains once your feet have crossed the threshold separating the human world, from that of the unknown.
Within moments the mood of the band of hunters had changed, as the fatherly instincts kicked in. As everybody's eyes trained on the forest on either side on the shadowed path, I turned to Milo.
" Cover for me," I whispered hurriedly before diving into the forest beside. I hadn't given him a chance to respond, knowing full well what he would have said.
Milo had always been a rather timid soul, a rule follower at heart. The ideal " member of the pack", so to speak. While I had always admired that about him, we varied in that way. I had never been known for listening to, in some cases, much needed advice, instead preferring to explore the world the hard way. There were many valuable lessons learned because of this. One of which being to not throw stones at a retreating mama bear. Lest to say, she was no longer retreating after those stones hit her wounded side.
This was the first time I almost died. As for the second, that was when we got home, and my mother barely restrained my father before he beat my little ass into the dirt floor of our hut.
Glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was following me, I made my way alongside the path, retracing my steps back to where the boot print lay imprinted into the mud. As the air whipped around me, I couldn't help but stop for a moment and take a deep breath. I had always enjoyed the fresh air the mountains had to offer. Containing a hint of pine, as well as the faint smell associated with the spring fall, there was always a crispness in the air that was refreshing, not to mention calming.
I could feel the corners of my lips turn up in a soft smile as the quietness, away from the loud men, calmed my soul. As I approached the site of the boot print, squatting down to analyze the print more closely, I couldn't help but contemplate my true reason for escaping the group. Was it truly to search for whichever misfortune soul landed themselves in these mountains, or alternatively, was it just a ruse to get away from the large group of hunters, after having travelled with them for a week on end?
As I thought about it, I could feel my smile grow. I suspected the latter to be true. While I truly did love my father and all those who shared in the company of men, I could tell that the calmness around me was doing me some good.
Inspecting the print closely, I gazed around me looking for another that we may have missed earlier. As I looked at the brush around me, the morning mist obscuring my surroundings slightly, I got a glimpse of a broken branch a couple yards away.
Stumbling to my feet, having lost proper circulation in my lower extremities, I walked over to the branch in question. Brushing the rough surface with my fingertips, I examine the branch closely. Based on the greenness of the wood fibers, the damage had occurred somewhat recently. Wood always turned to a dull brown when exposed to the air around us, which I learned the hard way, when my father tried to kill me for the third time. Apparently, according to my father, stripping the trees around our hut of their bark was not considered fun, or a proper use of my time.
Who would have known that?
Chuckling to myself, I could feel my mind drifting to my own future children. You could say the smile left my face faster than the wind whipping around me. My parents were certainly going to laugh when, inevitably, my children ended up being even more of a handful than I was.
I sighed. I wasn't ready to be a father, or a husband. When I did start that next chapter of my life, I wanted to do it right. As of now, I don't feel ready. Not even close. It felt like yesterday that my little legs carried me as fast as they could away from my mother, my pasty little buttocks blinding the people around me.
Inspecting the area around me more closely, I found more and more signs of a disturbance. Whether it be another boot print, broken branch, or leaves crushed underfoot, I followed the trail. Whoever was lost in these mountains were in sore lead of help and fast.
Well, unless they were some wilderness goddess, withholding the secrets of survival from all of mankind. Somehow, I found that unlikely.
It felt as if only a moment had passed, my heart beating rapidly from the anticipation, when the footprints came to a halt in the middle of a clearing. Turning in a full circle, I could feel my stomach drop. They had to be here. Looking once again at the clearing, I focused this time. What am I missing?
As my eyes trailed over the side of a stony ridge, my heart started racing. I had just seen something in the shadows! I was sure of it. Jogging across the clearing, I slowly creeped along the rocky wall, maneuvering my way around boulders.
That's when I saw it. A path leading into the depths of the mountains, one of which I could swear I hadn't known of. Mist swirled faintly in its depths, obscuring my sight of what lay beyond.
Slipping down the side of a particularly large boulder, I almost missed what had caught my attention in the first place. Dropping to the ground, I crouched down beside the still form at my feet. Grasping their shoulders lightly, I gently rolled them over, so their face wasn't pressed into the biting snow.
Brushing the snow from their face, I peered down at the feminine face before me. One which didn't seem to have much life left to save.
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