Alec woke up hugging the burlap sack. His arms were sore and his entire body ached. For a moment he didn't move, listening to the forest around him. Birds chirped cautiously, and somewhere far off he could hear the wind moving through the trees.
He slowly crawled out from beneath the tangled tree roots and sat up, wincing as his muscles fought against him. Reaching into the burlap sack, he pulled out a strip of dried meat. Chewing slowly, he scanned the forest while thinking about what old man Owen had taught the kids at the orphanage about surviving, gathering, hunting for food.
Alec had been at the orphanage since he was five years old. He didn't know anything about his parents. No names. No faces. Nothing. He never really liked the other children either. He preferred to be alone and spent as much time as he could in the forest beyond the orphanage.
Owen was an old man who worked with the kids, teaching them how to survive the harsh wilderness and how to avoid or deal with the creatures that lived nearby. Alec had spent most of his time with him, listening to his stories about the world beyond Hillburn. Owen had been in the military once, serving as an instructor for many years. He had a gruff exterior and a sharp voice, but he always greeted Alec with a smile. Around Owen, Alec felt… steady.
He learned how to clean a rabbit or a deer, how to hang the furs so they dried properly, ready to be traded in town for supplies. Alec enjoyed learning from Owen and quickly became proficient at starting fires and setting traps for small game.
Then Owen died during the winter.
After that, Alec spent more and more time alone in the woods.
The memory of the children being slaughtered by the red-eyed men made his chest tighten, but it didn't affect him the same way Miss Helen's death did.
The men had stormed in while everyone was eating dinner. When the children saw swords in the hands of the men, panic erupted. Screaming. Chairs crashing to the floor. Children running in every direction.
Alec stood up from his chair but didn't move.
The faint red glow in the men's eyes and the eerie feeling that came with them rooted him in place. One of the other kids, Ricky, who had always given Alec a hard time, crashed into him during the chaos and knocked him to the floor. Before Ricky could get back up, one of the men drove a sword straight through his chest.
Alec watched Ricky gasp for air and die right in front of him.
He hadn't realized he was crying until later. What bothered him more was how little the blood itself affected him.
His thoughts drifted back to Owen again. To the first rabbit he had killed after it was caught in a trap. Ending its life. Removing its organs. Skinning it. None of it had bothered him. The other kids had started treating him differently after he returned more than once with blood on his clothes from hunting with Owen.
Alec finished chewing the dried meat and pushed himself to his feet, moving deeper into the forest. He checked his surroundings constantly as he walked. Soon he reached a small clearing and heard the sound of flowing water from the river.
He knew this stretch ran toward Hillburn.
Moving quietly, Alec set the sack down behind a tree and carved a small mark into the bark, a simple cut to guide him back. Owen's lessons replayed in his mind as he crept forward.
Alec crouched near the river's edge, using the trees for cover. He looked right. Then left.
When he looked left again, something small and hunched stood near the water.
A short green creature wearing crude iron armor scooped water from the river with clawed hands. Its scaly skin was a sickly green, stretched tight over a thin frame. Sharp claws jutted from long fingers. A long, pointed nose hung over a mouth filled with jagged yellow teeth. Its ears were tall and sharp. He knew it was a goblin right away.
Alec ducked back behind the tree immediately, his heart pounding.
He remembered the lesson clearly. When he had been learning traps with Owen, they had come across two goblins. Owen had told him goblins had poor eyesight but an excellent sense of hearing and smell. Until Alec could wield a sword properly, he was to avoid them at all costs. If avoidance wasn't possible, he was to use a trap or snare to disable their movement. After that he should flee or kill them once they had been caught.
Slowly, Alec peeked around the tree again. The goblin was still drinking, distracted.
Alec backed away silently and scanned the forest floor. Vines. Flexible, strong ones. He cut several pieces with his sword and worked quickly but carefully. His hands moved with practiced rhythm, fingers tying knots the way Owen had shown him.
He shaped the snare near the goblin's path, low, almost invisible, positioned between two roots near the riverbank. He scattered loose leaves over it and retreated behind a fallen log.
Moments passed as the goblin finished drinking and shuffled forward back into the woods. Its foot slipped into the loop.
The snare snapped tight around its leg and yanked upward as Alec pulled with everything he had. The goblin screeched, flailing wildly as it was dragged off balance and slammed into the ground.
Alec didn't hesitate as he rushed forward, sword in both hands, and drove the blade down into the goblin's neck. It thrashed for a moment, claws scraping uselessly against the air, then went still.
Alec stood there breathing hard, staring down at the body. The blood didn't bother him. He wiped the blade clean on the goblin's armor and moved on.
Following the river upstream, Alec found rocky cliffs rising above the water. The stone jutted outward in places, creating shallow overhangs. One of them formed a natural shelter, hidden from the river and shielded from the wind.
Alec climbed up carefully and dropped his sack inside.
For now, it would be home.
He sat against the cold stone, sword resting across his lap, and listened to the river flow below.