Merek's Ascendance (2 page)

“Ha!” his mother shrieked. “And where will you go? No one will take you in! You have no friends!”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that, seeing as you never let me have any. You never let me go to school. To this day, I can’t read.”

“An education would have been wasted on you,” his father retorted
, “You don’t have enough brains in there to even remember to do your chores.”

“But I have enough brains to remember both of your birthdays,” Merek shot back, “yet I never learned mine. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit wrong, Father?”

“Why would anyone want to remember the day you blighted the world?”

Merek didn’t let the sting of
his father’s insult show up on his face. He gritted his teeth behind sealed lips before he turned to the door slowly, keeping both eyes on his parents until his hand found the latch. He pulled the door open and finally turned away, pulling the door shut behind him.

The latch never caught, and before Merek knew it he was on the ground.
His father, enraged beyond measure, lifted his fist and slammed it into Merek’s face. It was all the son could do to lower his face, taking the blow on top of his head. He felt the force of it through his whole body, a spike of fire that serve only to make him angrier.

The eyes of the father and the son met, brown into green.

“You’re going to have to hit me harder than that, father.”

“Is that how you want it
?”

“Remember, I’m not the one who made the first blow. But I’ll be the last.”

His father laughed at the pronouncement. “You’ve never been in a fight in your life. And you think you’re going to beat me? ME?!”

Merek’s knees bent and his shoulders relaxed, his instincts preparing him.
He had watched the knights spar during their training regimens in the woods, and he had taught himself to mimic their motions.

“Only if you make me,” he replied, his hands held loosely in front of his face.

In answer, his father charged forward, with his head down.
Merek momentarily froze, but he recognized that attack. The knights in the forest had used it as demonstration of a fool’s attack.

Merek’s knee lif
ted in exact time as his father’s head reached him, and there was a resounding crack as bone met bone. Merek backed away, rubbing his knee as it throbbed in pain. His father did the same, holding his head and trying to shake off the blow.

“Alright,” Merek said to himself, “perhaps that wasn’t my best idea.”

His father put his hands up again, this time more defensive. Merek left his at his sides, instead moving his shoulders back and forth to loosen them up. Working in the fields for hours made him unprepared for this struggle.

Though now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure
he could ever be prepared for this struggle.

His father edged in, waiting for his chance. Merek simply stared him down, waiting.
He had never wanted this. He never wanted it to come to this.

The first blow was a punch to his ab
domen, which Merek could make no move to avoid. The next was a missed shot to Merek’s jaw, which Merek ducked away from. He couldn’t dodge the follow up, which was a clubbing blow to his back.

Merek’s jaw tightened, and he pushed aside the lingering
ice pick of pain. His counterattack was a swift kick to the older man’s legs, which landed in a shout of pain. He twisted, and his other leg kicked his father’s other knee. Both legs ringing with pain, his father backed away.

“Is that really the best you can do?”

Merek had no reply but to lift his hands.

His father was all over him. Clearly toying with him before, his father threw blows
that Merek could do nothing to prevent. Every punch he dodged, he ran into another fist. His father was manic, crazy, bordering insane. After only a few seconds, all Merek could do was put his hands over his head and hope to ward off the worst of the damage.

And inside his own head, all Merek could think was that he hadn’t meant any of this to happen.
Maybe, just maybe, he could apologize, and things could go back to the way they were. Not perfect, but manageable.

But when
his mother joined the fray, any chance of reconciliation was cast aside.

Merek didn’t see her coming until it was too late.
He shoved his father away, who tripped and fell to the ground. The next thing he knew, there was a blur of motion to his right. His mother was charging at him, wielding a wooden spoon. Merek made no move to defend himself, but that didn’t stop her from smacking him in the face with the implement. On instinct alone, Merek grabbed her with both hands around her head and twisted, throwing her across the grass.

It was just reflex. He hadn’t meant to throw her so far, or clutch her head so tightly. He hadn’t meant to throw her down the hill.
He had just sought to keep her from stabbing him, to keep her from hurting him anymore…

But none of that changed the fact that
her uncontrollable roll had ended with the wooden spoon snapping in half. Merek could see the spoon part, the actual round piece. But where the rest of the handle went, he couldn’t see. His mother wasn’t moving, and in the fading daylight Merek could see a crimson stream pooling under his mother’s chest…

Father and son moved as one, sliding down the hill to get to her.
She was still breathing, though blood was spreading quickly across her apron.

“Oh… oh Gods. Mother? Mother!”

Merek felt his body move without his consent, his father shoving him aside to get to his wife.

“Malkyn, are you okay?”

She could make no response as tears fell from her eyes.

“You did this,” his father sneered, his eyes wide in rage.

“We can fight more later,” Merek snapped, “we need to get her to a medic. There should be some in town.”

“She’ll be dead before we get there!”

“Not if we go now!” Merek argued, “Grab her legs.” Merek moved to lift her head, but before he got there his father pulled the wood from her chest.

Before Merek could react, his father jammed the shard into his arm.

Pain exploded through his shoulder, a burning flame that Merek couldn’t help but scream at. Blood poured from the wound, and Merek fell to the ground.

“Haven’t you done enough damage?” his father said, lifting his wife into his arms and running down the darkening road. The village was roughly a mile away, not too far. His mother should be alright. She should be…

His father turned towards him to get one last word in.

“If you’re here when we get back, I’ll kill y
ou.”

Without another word, his father disappeared from sight. Merek simply sat there, covered in blood, too scared to understand.
He hadn’t meant any of this. This… this was insane.

Haven’t you done enough damage?

Merek looked down at his hands, hands that were covered in his mother’s blood. He started to shake, and his wounded arm only served as a testament to his weakness.

Gods, what had he done?

He stood up, favoring his shoulder. The wood wasn’t in too deep; he could probably pull it out. But he needed to stop the bleeding once he did. The cottage had very few things that he could use to stem the blood flow…

Merek hung his h
ead. As much as he detested it, he needed to get the coat that was his bed. He could stop the blood flowing with that, at least until he could…

Until he could what? What was left for him to do?

Merek looked around, trying not to panic. He had to think of something. He had to
do
something.

His eyes fell on the fore
st, and he knew exactly what had to be done.

Gathering up the coat from the floor, he savagely pulled the stick of wood from his
arm, feeling the blood soaking through the coat. It wasn’t that bad of a wound. He had suffered worse when the hoe slipped from the ground and cut his leg.

Which meant there was nothing stopping him from leaving. Nothing at all.

But where would he go? To the forest, of course. How would he survive out there? The same as he had when he was forced to sleep outside in the cold winter nights. Could he ever come back?

Did he really want to?

Merek shook his head, unable to find answers that truly compelled him. But with no other option, he struck out for the forest.

It didn’t take him very long to find a stream to soak his wound in. The water was cold, but at least it allowed him to clean the blood from his arm. He kept the
coat pressed against the hole, looking around as darkness claimed the forest. He would need to build a fire or something if he wanted to… wanted to…

His vision suddenly blurry, it was all he could do just to
stay upright. But the next moment the world around him faded to black and he pitched forward, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Chapter Two: The Forest Boy

              Merek didn’t know how long it was until he woke up, but the moon was shining down on him when he did. He was lying in the mud of a river bank, the lower half of his body still underwater. He shivered, his clothes soaked from his impromptu swim. His right shoulder was numb, though every few moments a spike of pain would remind him of the damage done to it. He leaned back, accidently burying his long hair in the mud as he took deep, gasping breaths.

             
He couldn’t be sure how much time had passed before he finally pulled himself from the river.

             
“Well… today’s ending… just grand,” he said between gritted teeth, pulling himself with one arm onto the grass. No sooner had his feet left the water then he felt the mid-spring’s warmth start to heat him. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to keep the moonlight from lighting his way to… somewhere.

             
But there was something in the breeze that sent a shiver down his spine. He looked around as a sense of foreboding overcame him. He searched the sky, but saw nothing but fireflies in a sea of black. Further off, the stars melted away into the darkness, and only night could be seen.

             
Merek’s eyes narrowed even as his heart started beating so hard he could feel his chest move.

             
In the distance there wasn’t as much a formation of clouds as there was a mountain of black. They stretched across the horizon, miles and miles away but still terrifying close. He could see lightning sparking from one sect of cloud to another as the entirety of the countryside rumbled with trepidation.

             
There was a massive storm coming, and it was coming straight for him.

             
“So… shelter. Shelter right now.”

             
Forcing himself to his feet was a chore in and of itself, as every muscle burned when he tried to move it. But he couldn’t just stay there. The odds of him surviving in an open field with a thunderstorm of that size… well, he wasn’t very good at math, but he knew it was a bad idea.

             
He moved as quickly as he was able back into the forest. At least the trees would take some of the brunt of the storm, the same way it took some of the snow. But he knew from wretched experience that it wouldn’t handle it all, and he needed to hide from the rest.

             
The feeling returning to his legs, he jogged through the forest. Bright green leaves fell from the trees as Merek leapt over fallen logs and crushed branches beneath his steps. All the while, his eyes scanned the forest for any sign of an escape.

             
A boom of thunder made him instinctively cringe as he lifted his good arm to cover his head. He turned back to the moon his eyes wide. He couldn’t even see the edge of the forest now, but he could make out the moon’s position. The clouds hadn’t even appeared in the sky overhead yet, and still the thunder was loud enough to deafen him.

             
Merek’s jog became a sprint even as he wondered just how far away he had floated from his home. The storms were never this bad there.

             
Everywhere he looked there was nothing but grass and leaves and wood, nothing that he could immediately make shelter out of. He stopped running as his breath ran short and sweat poured down his brow.

             
“Nothing,” Merek said as his desperation grew. “Nothing to hide in, nothing to protect myself with… nothing…”

             
The world grew dark around him, as if something had blotted out the light.

             
Inwardly cursing his luck, he looked to the sky to discover that was exactly what had happened.

             
The storm had found him.

             
He could hear it now, the thunderclaps of the storm from so very close. Lightning bounced back and forth between the clouds, but it wouldn’t be long before the lightning blasted down to earth. And there was a different sound, a sound Merek couldn’t quite identify, almost like the rushing of a waterfall but stranger, wilder.

             
His jaw dropped when he realized it was the rain. In unison with this realization, he turned and ran again. He had very little time now, very little time before the storm washed him away.

             
Merek’s flight took him up a hill, which he climbed with mounting exasperation and pain. What he wouldn’t give to rest, to just lie down for a while.

             
Then he saw it.

             
A break in the trees exposed a rocky hill. And, if his eyes didn’t deceive him, there was a cave on top of it.

             
“High ground, hopefully dry cave. Worth a shot, I think.”

             
The rain was closing in; he could hear the torrent coming. He ran for the hill, though his legs were weighed down by both exhaustion and fear. It took the rest of his strength to climb the hill, the stone much harder and unforgiving than the soft grass of the forest. Each step felt like the heels of his feet were being punched, but he persevered.

             
Until at last, he was face to face with the infinite darkness of the cave. He took a last look at the surrounding storm, and smiled. He had made it with a moment to spare.

             
Then he stared into the dark, and hesitated. There was something wrong about the cave, some elusive misgiving that Merek couldn’t quite put his finger on. But every instinct in his brain was telling him not to go into the cave.

The moment it took him to contemplate it was the only relief he had before the storm hit him.
Ice cold sheets slammed into his back at the same time a powerful gust of hair nearly blew him sideways. He pitched forward as the wind jostled him around, and he found himself being pushed into the cave.

It was quieter, if nothing else.

Merek stood stock still, only inches removed from the rain. Drenched from only seconds in the torrent, he stood shivering in the cave. There was no light, no sound emanating from its depths, but…

This place really did not sit well in Merek’s mind.

Gathering his courage, though Merek didn’t believe it would be much good, he took a single tentative step.

Nothing happened.

He took it as a good sign and moved forward one more, his eyes looking around in every direction for something he couldn’t see. He took another step, each one taking him further from the storm. The noise was dying down the deeper he traveled. He turned to look back at the rain, but there was nothing but a wall of water to be seen there.

That didn’t stop him from seeing a bolt of lightning strike a tree a little too close to his cave for comfort.
He jumped, backing away several more steps into the cave with his breath short and sharp.

Then he heard it.

He stopped in his tracks, staring at the rain without seeing it, hoping – a rare feeling –that he had just imagined the sound. Seconds stretched on, seconds that seemed to be taunting him with their silence.

Merek
counted to ten without hearing anything but the raging storm, so he decided that it must have a trick of the thunder. Though that decision didn’t cause him to turn around just yet. He wasn’t
that
confident that his decision was correct.

The seconds turned into a minute, and still he hadn’t moved. His left arm was shaking, though he tried his best to keep it still.

Finally, he couldn’t bear it any longer and he turned around. As if on cue, he heard the noise again. There was no mistaking it this time, nor was there any denying it.

Merek was not alone in the cave.

The sound was something he was unfamiliar with. It was more than a rasp, but less than an actual growl. It sounded most like a deep sigh heard from the bottom of a well.

Whatever it was, the noise scared him.

He considered backing away, but the flash of another lightning strike kept him still. He could deal with whatever it was in the cave, or he could risk getting blasted by a lightning bolt.

N
either option sounded very good.

The sound changed, as if the owner of it didn’t have the strength to keep it going. Now it was quieter, a whimper. Pained.
Whatever was with Merek was hurt, it sounded like. He didn’t want to approach, he didn’t want to go near the noise, but…

It sounded like it was in so much pain, and the whimper was pitiful. The thing was scared. Scared, hurt and alone in the dark with a storm overhead. Merek couldn’t just ignore the thing’s suffering.

Not when he could relate so well.

He forced his legs forward, stamping down on the fear that was threatening to swallow him.
The noise grew louder, scarier, as if the owner was trying its hardest to be defensive but simply didn’t have the strength.

A bolt of lightning flashed close enough to light up enough of the cave for Merek to see what it was he was pursuing.

A black bear, taller than he was by only a matter of inches, was huddled against the cave wall. Against the bear were small, wriggling black masses of fur that Merek instantly realized were her babies.

“So, a mother bear and her children all hiding in a cave. But why do you sound so hurt, mother bear?”

As if in answer, another lightning strike lit up the bear.

“Oh, Gods…” Merek said, covering his mouth with his hand in shock. Perhaps the wound wasn’t as bad as Merek thought, but the fact that the bear wasn’t howling in pain was a testament to the animal’s spirit.

Two arrows were sticking out of her left arm, both cutting cleanly through and emerging on the other side of her flesh. Blood was still dripping from the wounds, indicating that they were fresh.

“I don’t understand, who would put arrows into you? Why?” The bear, of course, had no answer for his questions, but he wasn’t expecting one.

“Alright, we need to get these out, or it’s just going to get worse. I’m going to break the arrow so we can pull it out. It’s going to hurt.”

Merek was saying it more for his benefit than hers, for he knew the moment he touched the arrows
the bear was going to defend herself from what she would perceive as a further assault. Even though Merek knew this, he gripped the arrow anyway. The feathers would be easier to take off than the…

The arrowhead was tied on, Merek noticed as he
ran his fingers down the exposed shaft.

“
Tied on?” Merek mused aloud, “Hunters don’t usually tie on their arrowheads.” He looked at the bear and cleared his throat. “They don’t want to risk the arrowheads breaking off, or it coming loose because they didn’t tie it tight enough. So they… why am I explaining this to a bear?”

He briefly shook his head before t
aking a deep breath to steady himself. Then he gently untied the head from the rest of the arrow. As gently as he could, he started to pull the stick from the bear’s arm.

As expected, the bear was not very receptive to this course of action.

Her arm swung out at him, but in the dark he didn’t know it was coming until it smashed into his face. Thankfully, the wounds from the arrows had sapped much of the bear’s strength, so the blow didn’t hurt as badly as it could have. But the claws still raked his skin, causing blood to bubble through his flesh. She tried to swing again, but a timely flash of lightning allowed him to see it and catch her falling arm.

“Now, you stop that!” Merek chastised, throwing the weary arm aside. “I’m trying to help you!”

Knowing time was now against him, he grabbed the shaft and pulled it free. The bear roared in pain, but made no move to defend herself. Perhaps she finally understood. Or, more likely, she simply no longer had the strength.

“Just hold on a moment longer, alright? Just one more minute.”

Tenderly, Merek untied the other arrowhead and prepared himself.

“It’ll all be okay. Just… don’t eat me, all right?”

Then without any warning, he pulled the arrow free from the mother bear’s arm.

She howled her pain into the storm, but the noise was swallowed by a thunderclap that nearly deafened Merek.
Her two babies huddled closer to their mother, perhaps from the cold but more likely from fear.

Merek stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her arm.
It was wet and cold and bloody, but he couldn’t leave it untended. She instinctively growled again, but she didn’t actually seem very angry. Unless Merek was very wrong, she should start feeling better.

She growled something, a few short bursts of air that roused her babies.
Thinking that she had called on her children to defend her, Merek tried to back away. He couldn’t make it more than a few steps before he tripped over his own foot and hit the ground, stifling a scream as the impact aggravated his wounded arm.

The bears were all over him a moment later.