Tyler's Story (Tales of Quelondain)

by Chester, Mireille

  A yelp broke through the peacefulness of the day and Tyler stopped, listening. The yelp came again, this time louder, like the animal who had uttered it was in pain. Tyler snuck in the direction it had come from.

  “What the…” He frowned and watched as the coyote he’d seen a few days before gathered and launched himself at a large buck. The deer was ready, its head lowered. It threw the Maj into the air with a flick of his antlers. The coyote yelped as he hit the ground and tried to scramble away as the buck charged.

  It shifted back into a boy in time to wiggle so he fit between the antlers as they tried to spear him into the ground. Tyler shifted and ran at them, hoping the buck would be too busy trying to kill the man under him to notice the wolf coming at him. He jumped onto the deer’s back and shifted back, reached around with his dagger and felt his blade cut through fur and flesh. The buck reared its head up and Tyler grunted in pain as the back of its head connected with his face. He felt the blood pour from his nose. He wrapped his legs tightly around the deer to stay on while it jumped and bucked in an attempt to get him off its back.

  Something crashed into the buck’s side and Tyler found himself lying under it as it thrashed about, trying to get back to its feet. He looked up and saw the blond Maj fumbling with his dagger. The buck scrambled upright and tried to run into the cover of the woods. Tyler shifted and ran after it. The deer stumbled and fell to its knees, leaving him enough time to catch up and jump onto its back once again. He pulled his dagger, leaned forward, and slid the blade across its neck, pulling back as hard as he could. He felt the blood rush over his hand just as he was tossed to the ground. The buck fell, twitching.

  Tyler lay on his back, his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath. His right side ached, though not nearly as much as his face. He reached up gingerly and felt along his nose.

  “Is it broken?”

  Tyler cracked open one eye to look at the blond man sitting a little way away. “No.” He closed his eye once again and winced as he put pressure on his nose to stop the bleeding. “By the moons, what were you thinking? You can’t take down a buck by yourself!”

  “That’s not true; you just did it.”

  Tyler grunted. “Barely.” He glanced to the side to make sure the buck was indeed dead. When he was sure his nose had stopped bleeding, he sat up and wiped his face on his sleeve. “I’m Tyler.” He eyed the other Maj curiously. From this distance, it was easy to see why he’d tried to take down the buck and even why he’d tried to eat Bird. The young man’s clothes hung on him and his arms stuck out of the sleeves like pale sticks.

  The man looked away from the buck. “John.” He stood as Tyler did. “Do you think you’ll eat it all?”

  “What?”

  John looked at his feet. “The buck. Could I have a piece?”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “Take what you want.”

  John scrambled to the carcass and proceeded to cut some of the meat off of the buck’s side. He shoved it into his mouth and Tyler gagged at the sight of the blood running down his chin.

  “Wait! Stop! That’s disgusting! Aren’t you going to cook it?”

  John shook his head and jammed another piece into his mouth. “I’m not good at lighting fires, so I don’t bother.” He was about to cut off some more when Tyler pulled him back.

  “I’ll make a fire. Just, ugh, just stop.” Tyler found the sticks and leaves he needed and brought his flints out of his pack. “Look,” he said as he struck the flints together. “It’s not hard.” It took him three tries before the spark caught and he blew on it gently to help it along.

  John watched as Tyler found sticks to spear through the pieces of meat he had cut and set them over the fire. His mouth watered at the smell of the meat cooking.

  “Here.” Tyler tossed a piece of cheese in John’s direction and watched as the other man crammed the whole piece in his mouth. John swallowed and eyed him curiously.

  “How old are you, Tyler?”

  “Eighteen. You?”

  “Twenty. Where’s your pack?”

  Tyler shook his head. “You’re looking at it.”

  “You don’t run with a pack?”

  “It’s none of your business really, but my pack is in Sageden.” He frowned. “What about you?”

  “I don’t have a pack. When Rainen announced we were going to attack Paradin, I ran away. I’d just turned of age then.”

  “Why run?”

  John shrugged. “I didn’t want to die. I can’t fight, I don’t know how.”

  Tyler nodded; that much was obvious. “So you’ve been on your own for four years? Why haven’t you gone back?”

  The older Maj paled. “Haven’t you heard? Damian was killed in Paradin. That makes Rainen head sorceress now. You have to know she’ll kill whatever deserters she finds.”

  Tyler remembered the Maj sorceress with her long curly black hair and midnight blue eyes. He smiled at the memory that came to mind. He’d been sitting on a crate in Sageden’s courtyard, a drink in his hand and Jenna beside him. They’d all just finished helping with the wounded in Rainen’s pack. The forty year old sorceress had smiled as the last of her pack had walked out to find their mates and loved ones. Though she portrayed herself as a vengeful and hard woman, he knew better. He’d seen the tears in her eyes as she’d looked over the bodies of the men and women who hadn’t survived Ternach’s attack.

  “I don’t think Rainen will be quite as hard on you as you think she will be.”

  John frowned. “How do you know?”

  Tyler shrugged. “Just a hunch.” He took the meat off of the fire and handed the bigger piece to John. The two were quiet as they ate.

  Tyler looked at the buck and up at the sky. There was still plenty of daylight. He stood and went into the woods in search of the sticks and vines he would need to make a stand.

  “What are you doing?” John watched as he strapped the sticks together with the vines over the fire.

  “I’m making a stand to dry the meat on.” He tested the sturdiness of his contraption by pushing on the table shaped stand then moved to the buck where he proceeded to cut the meat into fine strips, all the while thinking that some salt to make some brine would have come in handy. “Here, just hang them on the horizontal sticks that run across the top.” He handed them to John who did as he was told.

  How in the world has this man survived on his own for four years, Tyler wondered to himself. It was a bloody miracle.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Tyler pulled his tunic over his head and stepped out of his pants before wading into the lake. He walked until he had to swim then ducked under the water. He came up sputtering, running his hands as quickly as he could over himself to clean off the blood. Sure that he had gotten most of it, he swam back to shore and quickly dried off and pulled on some clean clothes.

  “By the moons, that’s cold!” Though shifters were more tolerant to the cold than other beings, the lake was still partially frozen this early in the spring and Tyler pulled on an extra tunic to warm himself. He shook his head to get the water out of his hair then sat on the bank and looked up at the darkening sky. The two moons were full and just over the tree tops. As the sky lost its light, the trees turned a dark purple in the moonlight. The waves on the lake rippled in the white light. He wrapped his arms loosely around his knees. He had four or five days before the meat was ready to pack away. What was he to do in the meantime? He got to his feet, grabbed his things and headed back to camp.

  John was already sleeping, his snores reaching Tyler’s ears before he’d gotten back to the fire which was now simply smoking to help dry out the strips hanging over it. The smell was heavenly and Tyler plucked one of the strips off of the stand and went to his blankets. He glanced at John. Would he be able to keep himself alive one they parted ways? Tyler grunted. Probably. He’d done it for four years.

  Tyler took a bite of his snack. Well, he’s not coming with me, he argued with himself. I don’t need a pack and I most certainly don�
��t want one.

  John snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Tyler rolled his eyes. It was a miracle no one had managed to kill the coyote in his sleep. It was almost as if the man died with the loss of sunlight. He plucked a pebble from the ground and tossed it, grinning at the lack of response from John as it landed in his hair.

  Tyler yawned and lay down. He’d think of his little dilemma in the morning.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Tyler awoke with his arms behind his head. He looked to where John lay, still asleep. First thing on the agenda for the day was going to be a sparring lesson for his new friend. He smiled. There was no time like the present.

  Tyler took a small rock, this one bigger than the one from the previous night, and threw it at John. It hit its mark and John groaned, swatted at whatever had hit his chest, and rolled over. Tyler repeated the process three more times before the older Maj finally sat up drowsily.

  “What’s going on?”

  Tyler grinned. “You sleep like the dead. It’s a miracle no one has killed you in your sleep.” He stood and went to his pack and pulled out the things he would need for breakfast. “We’ll have something to eat and then we’ll do a bit of sparring.”

  John visibly paled and Tyler laughed.

  “I’m not going to try to kill you; I’m going to show you how to not be killed.” He proceeded to make a new fire, put some meat over it, and warmed the first fire that was still drying the strips he had cut the night before. He smiled. “It will also help you with your hunting so I won’t feel bad when we part ways.”

  John stood and stretched. “Alright.” Though his answer was a positive one, his face was still pale and Tyler noticed the nervous way he bit his lip. It made him wonder what had happened to his new friend the last time the man had tried sparring with someone.

  “How much training have you had?”

  John shook his head.

  “None?”

  John shrugged.

  “By the moons, John, you can’t be serious.” Tyler shook his head in disbelief.

  John ran a hand through his blond hair. “My dad passed when I was young and my mum was ill.”

  “It was just the two of you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you eat?”

  “The neighbours used to bring us meat whenever they could.”

  “So you never hunted?”

  “I couldn’t!” John’s grey eyes darkened with anger. “She was bedridden. I couldn’t just leave her! The instant I would leave the house she would scream. She couldn’t handle being left alone!” He stalked off in the direction of the lake. Tyler blinked and watched him walk away.

  So, John was capable of emotions that surpassed fear and cowardice. He finished getting breakfast put together, letting his new acquaintance work through whatever feelings he was dealing with.

  An hour later, John still hadn’t returned and Tyler started to wonder if something had happened. He made his way toward the lake. He found the elder Maj sitting on a fallen log, staring at the water.

  John continued to look straight ahead as Tyler sat beside him.

  “She died a week before Rainen’s announcement that we were going to war.”

  Tyler glanced sideways at him then turned back to the calm waters of the lake. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair.

  “I’m sorry.”

  John stayed silent.

  “No, really, John, I am. I lost my brother during the war.”

  John relaxed. “Was he older?”

  Tyler shook his head. “We were twins.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  The two of them gazed at the water and watched as a dark grey bird swooped down and plucked a fish from the shallow waters. It turned its red eyes on the men then flew over them toward its nest. The breeze blew through the trees and over the lake, bringing the smell of rain to their noses.

  Tyler looked at the sky. “Here’s hoping that rain stays away a few more days. I’d hate for the meat to get wet.”

  John’s stomach growled at the mention of food.

  “There’s some breakfast left.”

  John glanced at Tyler, his grey eyes meeting the other’s brown ones. “Why are you insisting on being nice? Most people would have chased me off or simply let the buck kill me.”

  Tyler stood. “Now, why in the world would I have let the buck kill you?”

  John shrugged and the quick glimpse of the stronger, angry Maj reverted back to the scared one.

  They walked in silence back toward the campsite. A grunt caught his attention and Tyler put an arm out, stopping John in his tracks.

  “Get down!” He crouched low and pulled the older man down to make sure no one saw them.

  “What are you going to do?” John’s whisper was high pitched and Tyler cringed, hoping the sound hadn’t carried to two tlarrisons ransacking the campsite. The slimy long haired animals glanced up before resuming their consumption of the meat that hung over the fire. Tyler tried to think back to the picture his Aunt Hayden had drawn for him after her first sighting of a tlarrison. What had she called the beast it reminded her of? He glanced back to the six foot tall, four legged creatures. They were covered in long dark brown hair which was always thick with an awful smelling goop, their pointy ears perked toward their meal which they were picking off of the stand with their trunks. Mammoths! That was what she’d called them, though she’d been sure that her mammoths had been herbivores and much bigger. Tlarrisons definitely were not plant eaters and weren’t scared to take down live prey should it present itself to them. He glanced at John just as one of them tried to spear the other with its tusks.

  “What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. I’m going to wait until they’re done and hope they decide to leave once they are.”

  “You took down the buck.”

  Tyler frowned but didn’t take his eyes off of the beasts. “Bucks don’t try to eat you.” His head snapped to the right as a woman made her way into the clearing.

  “Run! Run fast!” Tyler yelled to her and sprinted towards the closest tlarrison as it started to lope in her direction. He jumped forward and shifted in midair, throwing his shoulder and all of his weight into the beast’s side. He had a quick thought that the goo was going to take ages to clean off before he found himself rolling on the ground, the tlarrison rolling along beside him. He chanced a glance in the woman’s direction and saw her disappear into the woods. He shifted back and pushed up from the ground, hissing in pain as his right palm landed in the embers of the fire. The tlarrison’s trunk slammed into him as he reached for his dagger. The knife flew out of his grip with the impact and he swore under his breath. He fell onto his back near part of the drying stand that had been broken and scattered by the beasts.

  His breath left his body in a rush and he gasped, trying to suck in some much needed air.

  “Tyler! It’s coming back!”

  He looked up in time to see John throw his dagger at the tlarrison. The blade stuck itself in the mounds of slimy hair but didn’t seem to faze the animal. John shifted and sprinted away from the irritated beast.

  Tyler scrambled backwards frantically, trying to see his dagger in the tall grass. His burnt hand fell on a piece of the stand and the pain shot up his arm. The animal stomped in his direction, its dark, beady eyes focused on the small form trying to get away from it.

  Tyler resisted the impulse to let go of the stick as his hand screamed in pain and brought it up just as the beast fell upon him. It bellowed and collapsed on top of him. He felt the air rush out of his lungs once again. He pushed and squirmed, trying to get out from under the slimy mess that pinned him to the ground. The smell of rotten meat or eggs filled his nostrils and he gagged, his efforts to get to his feet reenergized by the need to get away from the disgusting smell and feel of the tlarrison.

  With a final grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing another of the sticks as he ran toward the other beast.

  Tyler screamed, trying to get the tl
arrison’s attention when it became obvious it was going to go after the woman. When it became obvious he wasn’t having the desired effect, he dropped the stick and shifted into his wolf in an attempt to reach it before it caught up to her. He’d almost gotten to it when it turned suddenly in his direction. It charged, its tusks aimed at him. He skidded to a stop and shifted back so he could jump backwards and away from the angry beast.

  In the back of his mind, he could hear his father and uncle yelling instructions at him and Trent during sparring lessons. “Shift! Jump Back! Shift! Duck and dodge!” He did just that and managed to scramble away just as the tusks speared the air where he’d just been.

  “Tyler! Dagger!”

  John’s shout was punctuated by the sound of his dagger implanting itself into the dirt not too far from where he was now standing. His chest heaved with the effort to breathe from the exertion. He ran his arm across his face to wipe the sweat out of his eyes.

  The tlarrison turned and faced him. Tyler bent slowly, pulling the dagger out of the ground. The forest was quiet as the two of them stared at each other. The moment dragged on and Tyler was starting to think he was going to have to make the first move when the slimy creature snorted and trotted off in the direction of the Wedelven Woods.

  He fell to his knees before sitting down, his knees up, his head on them, John’s dagger still in his hand. He heard John jog in his direction. He raised his head to look at him and grimaced as the goo on his face pulled with the effort to stay attached to his knee. He ran a hand through his hair and smirked as he got the same result.

  “Tyler! Are you alright?” John moved to help him up and wrinkled his nose at the smell.