Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One)

by Julian Saheed

The two boys rose early on the morning before the solstice and hurried through a breakfast of dark bread and warm fish broth. They set out to practice one last time and went over their packs for the hunt. Finally, as the sun began its decent towards the distant horizon, the time to leave arrived.

  "Well this is it," Thibalt said, stretching out his muscles.

  Christill nodded his head and moved to their room to gather his pack. Wolfing down some water, they said their goodbyes to Kera and headed outside. Just before they left, Christill ran back to their room and returned with a satchel holding eight new arrows.

  "Where did you get them?" asked Thibalt.

  "I may not be a master smith like you, but I still have some skills," replied Christill with a wink.

  Thibalt chuckled, pleased to see his brother in good spirits, and the two boys hoisted their gear onto their backs and left the house. They had packed their heavy bags the night before, storing all of the supplies that they would need for their five day hunt. Thibalt carried a long spear and had his axe strapped to the back of his pack. Christill had his large composite bow around his shoulders and a short dagger hidden away on his belt. Both wore light hide clothing, designed for travelling through the hot desert, and thick sandals, tightly laced up to their shins.

  They headed for the Mul'Pha square and found it overcrowded and noisy. It seemed that the entire city had come out to send them off. Upon a raised dais in the centre of the square stood Beanon with a wry smile on his face. Next to him, with a face that had never shown happiness, stood the Disciple.

  Thibalt and Christill pushed their way through the crowd until they reached the dais and found the other pairs waiting eagerly. Each of them were laden with heavy packs and an assortment of weapons. They were greeted with scowls by a few of the pairs. Cathan, who was standing next to a muscular boy named Hiefal, sneered and turned his back to them.

  Beanon raised his large hands, slowly silencing the crowd and gaining their attention. He then stepped back to allow the Disciple to take the stage.

  "On this day, the eve of our summer solstice, we gather together to praise Beon," he announced. "We show our respect through a proud tradition. A trial for our fledgling Miirvkin. To not only allow them to show their worth, but also demonstrate to Beon that we have not veered from the path that he has set before us." The noise from the anxious crowd grew. "The rules governing such a hunt are well known and have a long and proud history in Miirvk. This generation will no doubt continue to bring honour to their families and to this city," the Disciple said, staring down at the boys with a meaningful gaze.

  Christill felt as though that last statement was aimed directly at the two of them. He looked at Thibalt who was glaring at the Disciple and could tell that he was thinking the same thing.

  "To ensure no misunderstandings," the Disciple continued. "Each pair will have five days in which to find their prey and return to this spot with its remains. The carcass must be intact and fresh. We do not care in what manner you slay the beasts, yet it must be clear that the death was inflicted by your own hands."

  Thibalt glanced to the bow hanging off Christill's shoulder and gave out a hushed chuckle. Christill noticed but kept his eyes to the front.

  "There are no boundaries, but the pairs are encouraged to stay clear of the outlying areas of Mulphus. The prize this year will be revealed at the setting of the sun, five days from now. It will be awarded to the first pair to return to Hamal successfully."

  The assembled pairs all cast confident smiles at each other. Christill looked around, eager to get underway. "They all think that they are going to win," he whispered to Thibalt. Thibalt momentarily looked at the other pairs then rested his hand on Christill's back. "They have no chance."

  "One final note," the Disciple boomed over the crowd. "After much discussion we have decided that the students of this year are of an exceptional standard. With progeny from the loins of our own leader-," he said pointing at Cathan. "-we feel it a pity to have them hunting ordinary beasts. Thus the prey of this hunt will no longer be the Gorinian Devil. This year the pairs will be hunting the great Irian."

  The gathered crowd cried out its anger following the unprecedented announcement. Furious mothers screamed in displeasure. Some of the older Miirvkin cursed the Disciple, claiming it was an abomination to stray from tradition. The more experienced hunters gave out cheers of delight. The only group remaining silent were the pairs, whose destiny it was to go out and hunt these horrific beasts.

  "Great gods!" muttered Christill.

  "It is obvious, is it not?" said Thibalt. "They did not tell anyone because they knew it would cause this much trouble. There would have surely been a huge objection to this change. By announcing it now they have ensured that it is too late to change anything."

  "Silence!" The Disciple yelled over the noise, but the crowd was already too worked up. "The hunt will now begin. All pairs are free to leave."

  The Disciple stepped off the dais and pushed his way through the angered crowd. Beanon stared at the pairs who remained at the base of the dais. "Well off you go. You forge your own paths from here." He then also made his way through the crowd, leaving the boys alone.

  It took a while for the first pair to leave the square. Slowly others followed, each pair travelling in a different direction. Thibalt and Christill soon ended up alone with only a few stragglers from the crowd wandering about in the square.

  "I guess we should head off then," Christill finally said.

  "Where do you suppose we should go?"

  Christill stared out into the horizon. "We could probably head west and see what we find there. There are a few sheltered spots that we can reach before midnight."

  Thibalt nodded and heaved his heavy pack onto his back. They would need to try and cover as much ground as possible during the next few hours. Out in the desert their movement would be severely hindered by the cycle of the day. In the main hours of the day they would be forced to seek shelter from the deadly fury of the sun. Whilst in the deep of night they would be left vulnerable to the predators of the desert, whose eyes were much sharper than their own in the moonlight. This left them with the very early hours of the morning and the late hours of the day as the sun set.

  They moved north westerly out of Hamal and quickly left the city behind them. The land gradually turned dry and crunched underfoot as they travelled closer to the desert.

  "This heat is stifling," Christill mumbled whilst wiping his sweaty forehead.

  "It isn't going to get any better. Once the sun is gone we are going to freeze. I don't know how we are going to survive five days out here," Thibalt panted.

  "You will not have too."

  "Why is that?" Thibalt asked suspiciously.

  "Because I intend to catch an Irian tonight," Christill replied confidently.

  Thibalt rolled his eyes and continued the arduous trek along the dry, rocky edge of the desert. The Irian were nocturnal hunters and generally only left their lairs once the sun had set. The two brothers travelled in a straight line heading north west, stopping only occasionally to rest. The further away from the coastline that they travelled, the stronger the heat became and the harsher the landscape turned. By the time the sun had fully set, turning the sky into an array of oranges and reds, Thibalt and Christill had passed fully into the great Miirvkin Desert.

  They continued on, relying on the moonlight to guide them. Reinar's lessons now came of use to them as they followed the tracks of the smaller desert animals. They reasoned that they would stand a greater chance of finding one of the Miirvkin cats near its own food source. Yet each trail that they followed was either lost in the faint light, or lead them to an abandoned burrow.

  "It's no use, we have found nothing at all. We might as well stay here for a few hours," Thibalt said, stretching his shoulders.

  "We should find some shelter first."

  "We are in the middle of the desert. There is little shelter."

  Christill looke
d around and spotted a small group of boulders in the distance. "Let's head over there. At least we can rest our backs for a while." Thibalt submitted and followed his brother.

  They let their packs slide off their shoulders wearily . Thibalt unpacked two heavy blankets and tossed one over to Christill. He then opened up his pack and pulled out a large loaf of bread and a long strip of dried deer. The two boys ate their makeshift meal quickly and followed it down with a large mouthful of water.

  "We should be careful with our water. We need to make sure that we have enough for five days if we must," Thibalt said, closing his water skin tightly. "We have no idea how many outposts we will come across."

  Christill nodded briefly. The area between Hamal and its rival cities Mulphus and Jalla held regular outposts, where trade caravans could stop and refill their water supplies. However neither of them held any knowledge as to their locations.

  They sat silently for a while chewing on the salted strips of meat. Christill held a thin strip in the air, waving it in front of his face. "I wonder if they eat dried deer in Feldom," he commented. He turned his thoughts to the lands across the Sea of Turmoil and closed his eyes to dream of foreign creatures and foods.

  The thoughts running through Thibalt's head were of a more serious nature. "How are we going to kill, let alone find an Irian, Christill?" he asked. "You have seen what Jin is capable of."

  Christill let out a long sigh and ate the last remnant of meat. "I guess we will have to work out how to kill it when we find it. For now we can try to get some sleep. You can have the first watch."

  They both curled up tightly in their blankets. Christill tried to find the smoothest bit of ground to lie on and dozed off into a light slumber. Thibalt shifted uncomfortably and wondered what the other pairs were doing right now. The temperature dropped rapidly and Thibalt pulled more clothes from his pack before waking Christill for his watch.

  The Miirvkin Desert was harsh and menacing during the day, but during the night it became eerie and unsettling, with a silence so profound that the only noise upon the air was ones own breathing. The moon cast a sinister light upon the land, creating menacing shadows out of the simplest of rocks.

  Thus it was no surprise that Christill rose with a shock late into the night when he heard the sound of slow, padded footsteps. He quickly surveyed the area. Thibalt was still fast asleep and curled up in his blanket. He listened more intently, but the footsteps had stopped and all that he could see in the distance were a number of dark shadows. He rubbed his eyes and tried to make out some of the shapes, but it was too hard to distinguish between the rocks and shrubs.

  Then suddenly one of the shadows in the distance moved swiftly across the horizon, stopping once again low to the floor. Christill reached slowly for his bow and arrows and nudged Thibalt with his foot. Thibalt awoke with a start and sent an unsettled look at Christill until he noticed that he was holding his bow.

  Thinking quickly, Thibalt grabbed his spear and turned to look at the point in the distance that Christill was staring at. "What is it?" he whispered.

  "I am not sure, but it moved fast and low to the ground."

  Thibalt scanned the horizon. "Can you see it?"

  "Yes, but I cannot make out what it is."

  "Well then let's see what that stick of yours can do," Thibalt suggested, motioning to the bow in Christill's hands.

  Christill gave Thibalt a surprised look and then notched one of his arrows into his bow. He moved himself slowly onto his knees and lifted the bow into position. He waited until he was sure he had the right shadow, then pulled back and let loose. The arrow soared through the air and struck the ground hard a foot next to the shadow.

  The shadow sprang to life and ran across the desert, away from the boys. From what they could see it ran on four legs and was several feet long. The creature stopped and turned towards them and the two boys were mesmerized by the sight of two glowing yellow eyes staring right at them. In the moonlight they could faintly make out two long pointed ears and a furry visage. They were indeed staring at an Irian. The cat let out a loud growl that travelled across the quiet desert and then set off at a great speed.

  Thibalt sprang up and tried to follow the cat with his eyes as it darted swiftly across the sand and rocks. Christill notched another arrow, but decided that the beast was too far away. "Do you think we should follow it?" he asked.

  Thibalt shook his head and put his spear back down on the ground. "We know the direction that it is headed. There is no point in chasing it now. We will not be able to see a thing. Tomorrow we can try to pick up its trail."

  "Very well," Christill replied. He then began walking away from the camp.

  "Where are you going?" Thibalt yelled.

  "To find my arrow!" Christill answered sourly.