Wild Monster

by Matthew Harrington

  First, there was the problem of how early the training started. He ended up late, due to elflings always following the cycle of the sun naturally. He woke up with the sun as usual, so ended up having to run himself half-unconscious as a punishment... Perhaps this was what he meant as an elf nature...

  The boy grumbled something inaudible as he opened his eyes, looking at the trees as they went by but not seeing them truly. He was slipping in and out of unconsciousness, unable to control his actions any longer. The only thing he knew was that he wasn't moving, yet the area around him was, his muscles screamed for relief and the tension of them was unbearable. His mind was of course also wounded somewhat. Despite the warning he gave to them yesterday, the father still was rather commanding, harsh and expected him to actually listen to all of it. His first reaction was denial and stubbornness, then he became more sensitive and silent as the time went by.

  In the end he didn't even speak.

  Instead he just collapsed.

  And here he was now...

  They made it home with the worn-out boy soon enough.

  As the father expected, he received an earful from his daughter for having exhausted her new best friend in such a manner and no kind of explanation could settle her anger. Only once she was told to practice her pressure massage did she calm down, seeing she was helping him recover from today's event. After having given him some food to gather energy, Will decided to bring him home himself.

  He seemed to understand that the elfling was tired beyond reason by this point. He couldn't blame him. The humans back home had a hard time with it as well. He was also not used to training children, much less elven children. That was what most of today was about. While the boy may believe that the father was just being harsh he was actually just trying to see what his limits were. Once he knew that he could really work with him. It was hard to work with someone on a different level than one's self. He had a lot to get used to.

  Once the boy gestured that they have arrived, Will finally snapped from his thoughts and gazed upon the elven home.

  Naril's home was just like any other. Built into a thick tree. The sun was already setting, so lights were seeping out of the window. The scent of cooked meal was beginning to spread as well.

  The moment they were close enough, the boy asked to be put down and quickly announced the new guest, who was then received by a rather tall and quite lean looking elf, the father of the boy as it seemed. It was easy to tell, since they looked quite similar with their brown hair and brown eyes, although the older elf had a darker shade. The ellon seemed to be observing him with a slight suspicion and curiosity before finally granting him entry with a silent nod of his head.

  Will nodded as he was allowed to come in, then let his eyes wander a moment, noting the humble decoration and the reserved natural colors before looking towards the father of the elfling.

  "A pleasure to meet you." He said trying to be... calm and respectful. Not something he was used to. "I don't know how much your son has told you but I realized it was rather informal to just start training him without speaking to you about it. So, I thought it best to come here and answer any questions you might have. My name is Willow by the way. Everyone calls me Will, however." He explained himself and for the first time since he came to this place said what his name was. Neither he nor his wife had said their names once since they arrived. Almost as if it was protected information. Although, Hyano had the habit for introducing them...

  "I welcome you on our humble home, Willow Razorleaf." The much older ellon said and gestured for him to sit while his son retired to his room, unable to stay awake. He needed to sleep or else he would pass out. No one said a word either to him. One could tell he wasn't in the mood to speak. "I am Feoton, born on Outer-Earth." He said, introducing himself as well while they are there, not wanting to seem rude. "Well... I have heard from Naril about this... training of yours." He started, sitting down after the father did, sitting opposite of him. "And I was thinking of paying a visit because of this... I am not sure what this training exactly contains..."

  Will wasn't used to the formality of the situation but he did his best to not show how off he was feeling in this situation. He doubted the other father would have noticed anyway, though. Only his wife could seem to read his emotions. Sometimes, she knew what he was thinking better than he did. It was almost scary.

  "Manual labor, mostly. You start the day with a run. It gets the heart pumping and ready to go. Considering your son isn't used to the early hour this is an easy way to start the day for him. Today I spent mostly seeing what he could handle. Elves are... not naturally built for this but he has potential. He is very stubborn which will actually help him if he puts his mind to the right task. Once he has improved his strength enough I will start teaching him my people's fighting style. See how he takes to that." He explained and thought over if there was anything else he might have missed. "Majority of it will be lifting and building muscle, increasing his endurance. Speed will come with time as a secondary to what he will be doing but it will not be our focus." He added.

  The elf listened to the explanation, lowering his gaze sometimes to the table, taking in the information and what he needed to do, judging the harshness of the training and if his son would be able to take it. All in all he didn't find anything truly against this, seeing he himself never had such a training, so surely he just thinks of this as too harsh because of this. However... there was one thing.

  "My only concern is the beginning time of the training. I would like to ask to let him come to you later when the sun has come up. Elven children are very tightly synced to nature and the cycle of the day. They fall asleep and wake with the sun. The older he gets the more he can go against this but... Not for now. Pushing out the starting time is necessary to ensure that he can give his best." He explained, nodding at him, sounding calm and understanding but also requested his own consideration. "I also would request that you... don't use harsh words. Elves at this age naturally are sensitive because of their sync. They need understanding. They are simply more sensitive to words, emotions and the handling." Feoton's other unspoken concern had been the desire of Will to teach his son their fighting style. It might be too early for him to start with aggressive attacking. He was too young for this. However, he understood that it might come years later when he built himself both in body and mind. He will keep a close eye on this matter.

  The man thought this over, then nodded.

  "That is fine for now." He stated, not too bothered by it. His son and himself would keep the same schedule. Cane could run more laps than Naril at this point anyway so by the time Naril made it and finished his own warm out, Cane would have gotten a proper one for himself. "I cannot help my harsh tone much, though. The men of my kind are rather... harsh by nature. It is in our voice. No matter how kind I might act in comparison to what the boy is used to, he will likely still take it harshly. There is really little that can be done besides us both working on that together." He added, being honest. He knew he was a harsh man and was hard to be around. There really wasn't much that could be done about it. Even in comparison to his own kind he was rather standoffish. It was just how his upbringing had ended up.

  "I am sure you will find the solution for this together." Feoton reassured with a faint smile, then leaned back in his seat, watching the man. "There is always a solution. One just has to see it. But what the solution is, that is up to the people involved with this." He said, giving him a smile and a nod. "Well, there surely might be questions you might want to ask. Considering you came from Middle-Earth, which contains no elves... You might be confused about a few things." He suggested, open for any questions Will might ask. At the same time his brown eyes scanned the man, as if he was trying to see through him and judge him while he stayed. Elves were protective of their young and he would not let Naril be around with people he did not know. Then again, the wizard seemed to trust them, hence why he acted more reasonable. This didn't mean he trusted them himse
lf, though. He was one of those cautious elves. he was skeptic about their motivation and their role in this world.

  "... To be honest, I know very little about elves. I do not usually work with children either. Add in, he is an elf and I am quite at a loss the majority of the time. I spent most of today testing your son for this reason. Pushing him here and there in order to find what is right and what is wrong for him. I doubt he liked it much but it will make the training easier with time. I have noticed... and correct me if I'm wrong but... he seems to have a mental limit on himself. Like he is afraid to fail so he has already limited himself in order to avoid it." Will said his observation, looking at Feoton, wondering if what he noticed was true or his own head playing tricks on him.

  The ellon's weak smile started to vanish when he mentioned these little details about his son. The look clearly said that he knew about these and that he wasn't all that keen to talk about it. Only after almost a minute of silence did he speak up in a more hushed tone, although, he was sure his son and wife could hear him just nicely. Elven ears were just that sharp.

  "That is true..." He trailed off, clearing his throat, his hands moving together to fiddle with his fingers. "He had this from the very beginning." He sighed. "Mainly because he seems to be a little different than those around him. He seems to lack the attention for archery by nature and his speed leaves much to be desired. His balance isn't the best either, neither his stamina. He is a..." He trailed off, trying to find the right words. "A little sad about this. We never mentioned it though but he knows he is supposed to do all these and accepted that he cannot. We are sad to see him just watch the other children go on their training. I think the limit is the result of his own physical limits..."

  The man thought this over for a moment before deciding to speak.

  "Back in Middle-Earth our people were enslaved. We were forced by Man to do their will for many generations and put through much pain. However, at one point our people somehow started to accept this, believing it to be the rightful way of our life. What made it worse was we refused to speak about it, refused to see that what was there was really wrong so we put our own mental block on ourselves. It wasn't until someone finally spoke up... defied his... 'master' that the mental block was finally broken. We started to fight for our freedom and what we believed and felt was right." He explained, then leaned forward. "You mean well for your son. Anyone can see that but refusing to speak and talk about it is just as bad as rubbing it in his face. You tiptoe around it and he will continue to block it just like you are... If you don't encourage him, then all his training is for nothing. He will never get past himself." He added, not wanting the father to believe ill of himself or his words.

  "I myself am not sure about this solution of yours but I never told him to not go on this training." The elf quickly corrected it, wanting to make it clear. "We did not stand in his way, hence why he showed up today morning. We knew that maybe... this is what he was born for... Who knows... We are native elves. Slightly more different than those who came from Middle-Earth. Many develop different skills, some lack that of precision many times and accuracy but are graceful sword fighters. Most of us seem to find our profession in the wielding of a spear. While those coming from Middle-Earth prefer the bow and daggers." He sighed, pausing for a short time, his eyes flickering to the table before meeting his gaze again. "But maybe you are right. We did not truly talk about this... state of his because we ourselves did not know what to do. We did not know how to counter this. He seems to be weak with a bow, not as graceful with a sword or spear... So, we encouraged him first for magic. Mostly those who do not excel in any of the weapon's fields are renowned mages. But he did not find much passion in that either..."

  "We will see. If he does not have a passion for magic, it is best he not take it anyway. Without passion, magic can be quite useless to the user." Will said, remembering Hyano's words like she said them only yesterday. "If nothing else it is doing my family some good to have him around. My daughter has taken a liking to your boy and it seems my son is enjoying the company as well. If only one thing comes of this, I at least hope, it is a friendship between them." He said, rather pleased with how his son had acted during training. While he had been pushing Naril to go harder, Cane just continued to tell Naril he could do it and would act as his spotter during lifting exercises, keeping his hands close enough to catch the weights if the boy happened to give out. Lilly was also surprising him. She was known to have a slightly... short attention span when it came to friends. She made them so easily but she rarely made an effort to really remember them not expecting to ever see them again. Middle-Earth was so fast paced. People just tended to come and go.

  Perhaps it was different with the elves...

  Time will tell.

  - a few days later -

  The only one at the training grounds was Cane. He has arrived with his father at the usual time but unlike the day before his father had not stayed to watch him warm up, instead went to do his own morning workout. Cane was used to this. His father would be back a little later, until then Cane would handle Naril's warm up. He had done this so many times it would be easy as ever. Already Cane was jogging... well more like running around the track. He had kept himself slow the last few days for Naril's sake but since he was training on his own at the moment he was free to go as fast as he wanted and at the moment that was quick.

  As promised, Naril made it to the training ground after sunrise, having found it after remembering the way here from the past days. Elves have quite good memories. They never forget. He also looked far more awake than he did on his first day when they started before the sun had risen. The boy looked around for the father, confused to see him gone, then walked over to the track, noting that Cane was already warming up for today's training.

  "Good morning." He greeted him as he passed by, quickly adding the question he surely expected. "Where is your father?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. He actually also stopped by at their house with the lunchbox, though instead of bringing something to eat, he brought them this time a traditional elven drink. Not only was it delicious, its base component being honey but it also lifted the mood of anyone who drank it and also had mild healing properties. But as usual with elven foods and drinks... only a little as enough and then created a full feeling after just a few sips.

  Cane stopped as the boy walked up and gave a nod as his greeting. When asked about his father he pointed in a direction.

  "That way. He is doing his own morning training and will be back later." Cane explained, then pointed to the track. "The warm up is the same as yesterday. A few laps around the track, then we are working out our upper body and core today." The boy added, giving a basic explanation of today's schedule before gesturing for the elf to follow him as he started jogging. This time he slowed down his pace for the boy. He had done enough laps for it to be acceptable at this point anyway.

  Naril looked in the direction the other boy pointed towards but just shrugged, deciding he will not announce his arrival only to disturb him, he will see him here when he comes back. They are not in a hurry. Nodding, the elven boy quickly joined Cane on the track and started to jog. This was the easy part of course. Elves naturally have nice endurance and speed, which of course Naril lacked but his body was still suited for it. This didn't mean he sped up because he knew if he did... He would very easily tire out. He lacked stamina...

  Little did the training duo know that they were watched from afar.

  Light brown eyes gazed upon them among the thick green foliage, tracking the duo as they ran lap after lap on the make-shift track. The rough fingers tightened on the tree's branch its owner was sitting on, overlooking the small clearing. The distance was great enough to be completely invisible for the senses of the young people below. Elven ears quickly picked up the chit-chat between them and mulled over each question that was asked to the elfling.

  Feoton did say he will let his son participate in the training but he did not trust them e
nough to let him do so without him watching over him. So here he was now, observing their little pass-time. He has done so for the past few days, ever since he met the ent father and he told him about the program they want to go through with Naril. He did not trust the training as it suggested violence. But neither did he trust the man.

  To him, as a native elf, they were too strange. He never saw people like this. Bulky body, deep voice, angry looking eyes, dark skin. It reminded him of the stories told about the foul creatures the migrating elves told him about. Orcs. Some of them were just as lumbering, walking with the same gait. While he clearly was no orc, he felt very protective over his only child. He had been waiting for his birth for a thousand years and won't let anyone touch him in the wrong manner or teach him things he was not yet ready for.

  He will be there to determine the safety of this training of theirs.

  A few rounds around the track and they were finally ready. Cane looked around. His father still hadn't arrived yet. No matter. He waved for the boy to follow him and went over to a tree. He checked to make sure the branch was strong enough before turning to Naril.

  "Alright back home we used to use a punching bag for this but we will just have to improvise here." He said, then patted his abdomen. "I need you to punch right here. Don't go too low or high. Don't worry. I will be fine. This is to help get your arms warmed up before my dad works the life out of them." He said, then jumped up catching a low hanging branch and allowed himself to hang from it. This sounded strange but Cane knew already he would be fine. Naril still lacked the power to do him any real harm. His thick body structure would prove very useful for this.

  The frown that already decorated the face of the ellon only deepened and soon his brown eyes widened at the mere mention of violence from the ent boy. His grip on the branch tightened and clenched his jaw. He was taken aback that right after he talked about this matter with the father... the son would rush this like that.