By the time Kael reached the forge again, the village had settled into evening.
Lanterns glowed in the windows along the road, casting warm pools of light across the dirt paths. Somewhere near the square, someone played a fiddle while voices drifted through the night air. The smell of roasted vegetables and stew lingered everywhere, making Kael's stomach twist painfully with hunger.
The forge doors were still open.
Inside, Garrick had banked the fire down to a low glow, and Lysa sat at the small wooden table with a pot of stew between them.
Both looked up when Kael stepped inside.
Lysa raised an eyebrow.
"And where," she asked calmly, "have you been?"
Kael hesitated.
Technically he had been practicing archery.
Which felt important.
"Training," he said finally.
Garrick leaned back in his chair.
"With who?"
"Elin and her dad."
Garrick chuckled quietly.
"Darin's teaching her the bow, huh?"
Kael nodded and slid into the empty chair.
"I tried it."
Lysa set a bowl in front of him.
"You tried it?"
Kael grabbed the spoon immediately and began eating like someone who had been lost in the wilderness for days.
"Mhm."
"Did you hit anything?" Garrick asked.
Kael swallowed.
"The target."
Garrick paused.
"Once?"
Kael shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.
"…Three times."
Garrick's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Huh."
Lysa smiled faintly.
"Maybe you inherited some coordination from your father."
Garrick snorted.
"Or stubbornness."
Kael kept eating, but the grin on his face was impossible to hide.
Dinner continued quietly for a few minutes. The small room filled with the clink of spoons and the soft crackle of the dying forge fire.
Outside, the village had grown peaceful.
Finally Kael set his bowl down and leaned forward across the table.
"So."
Lysa narrowed her eyes slightly.
That tone usually meant trouble.
"So?" she asked.
Kael folded his arms.
"I've been thinking."
Garrick sighed.
"That's never a good start."
Kael ignored him.
"If you're both busy all the time," he began seriously, "and I'm the only one protecting the house…"
Lysa blinked.
"…protecting the house?"
"Yes."
"…from what?"
"Enemies."
Garrick rubbed his forehead.
Kael leaned forward even more.
"That's why I need a sibling."
The room went silent again.
Lysa closed her eyes briefly.
"We talked about this earlier."
"Yes," Kael said. "But you didn't answer the important part."
"And what is the important part?" Garrick asked carefully.
"How do you make them?"
Garrick choked on his drink.
Lysa stared very hard at the table.
Kael continued thoughtfully.
"Do you have to go somewhere to get them?"
"No," Lysa said quickly.
"Do they grow out of something?"
"…No."
"Do you build them?"
"No."
Kael frowned deeply.
"That seems complicated."
Garrick cleared his throat loudly.
"Some questions are better asked when you're older."
"How much older?"
"Much older."
Kael leaned back in his chair, unsatisfied.
"Well we should probably start soon."
Garrick blinked.
"Start what?"
"The sibling."
Lysa pressed a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
Garrick looked like he might pass out.
Kael continued confidently.
"Because Bram has two already and they're very helpful."
"I'm sure they are," Lysa said.
Garrick stood up abruptly and grabbed the stew pot.
"I think we're done discussing this tonight."
Kael frowned.
"You always say that when I ask good questions."
Garrick carried the pot to the counter.
"You ask dangerous questions."
Lysa stood and placed a hand on Kael's head.
"Time for bed."
"I'm not tired."
"You will be."
Kael slid out of the chair and grabbed his wooden sword.
"But tomorrow there's a hunt."
"And tomorrow you are staying here," Lysa said firmly.
Kael sighed.
"I know."
He shuffled toward the small sleeping room at the back of the forge.
But his mind was already racing again.
The hunters would leave before sunrise.
Very early.
Probably before anyone else in the village was awake.
Kael climbed onto his small bed and pulled the blanket over himself.
From the other room he could hear his parents quietly talking while they cleaned up dinner.
The soft murmur of their voices mixed with the distant sounds of the village settling into sleep.
Kael stared at the ceiling.
He imagined the forest.
The hunters moving quietly through the trees.
Tracking deer.
Drawing bows.
Following footprints in the mud.
His heart beat faster just thinking about it.
He rolled onto his side and gripped the edge of his blanket.
Tomorrow would be exciting.
Very exciting.
And if he happened to wake up early…
Very early…
Well.
It wouldn't hurt to just watch the hunters leave.
Just watch.
Kael Thorne smiled in the dark.
And somewhere deep inside that stubborn little mind, the plan had already begun.
The village was still asleep when Kael's eyes opened.
For a moment he lay perfectly still, staring at the dark ceiling above his bed. The forge had gone quiet during the night. The coals in the hearth had faded to a dull red glow, barely lighting the room.
Outside, the world felt different.
The air before sunrise always carried a strange stillness, like the land itself was holding its breath.
Kael pushed the blanket off and sat up slowly.
He listened.
From the other room came the deep, steady breathing of his father. His mother's softer breathing followed beside it. Neither of them stirred.
Good.
Very good.
Kael slid out of bed, careful not to let the wooden floor creak beneath his feet. He grabbed his wooden sword from where it leaned against the wall and tiptoed toward the door.
Every step felt like a grand secret mission.
The door latch clicked softly as he eased it open.
Cold morning air slipped inside.
Kael stepped out into the darkness and quietly closed the door behind him.
The sky was still deep blue, the stars just beginning to fade as the first hints of dawn touched the eastern hills.
Willowmere slept peacefully.
A few lanterns still flickered along the road, their flames dancing in the faint breeze. Somewhere far away a rooster gave a half-hearted crow.
Kael pulled his small cloak tighter around his shoulders and hurried down the dirt path.
The hunters were supposed to meet near the north road.
That meant near the big oak tree at the edge of the village.
Kael reached the square and ducked behind the stone well, peeking toward the road that led north.
A few figures were already gathering there.
Dark shapes moving in the faint morning light.
Men with bows slung across their backs.
Spears.
Heavy cloaks.
Kael's heart jumped.
He spotted his father immediately.
Garrick stood near the oak tree speaking quietly with Chief Halren and two other hunters. A bow hung across Garrick's shoulder, along with a small bundle of supplies.
Kael had never seen his father look quite like that before.
Not just the blacksmith.
Not just the man who laughed at dinner.
But something older.
Sharper.
Like the stories Garrick used to tell about his days as a knight still lived somewhere inside him.
Darin stood nearby as well, checking the fletching on several arrows. Another hunter adjusted a hunting spear while speaking with Halren.
There were six men in total.
Kael counted them carefully.
Seven if he included himself.
He crouched lower behind the well.
The men began to move.
Halren gave a quiet signal and the hunters started down the north road, disappearing slowly into the misty fields beyond the village.
Kael waited.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Then he slipped out from behind the well and followed.
At first he kept far behind them, using the tall grass along the road as cover.
The hunters walked quickly but quietly, their boots making soft crunching sounds in the frost-dusted dirt.
Kael tried to match their steps.
Quiet.
Quiet.
Quiet—
CRUNCH.
He froze.
The sound had been loud in his ears.
The hunters ahead didn't stop.
Kael exhaled slowly.
Then he crept forward again.
The road soon gave way to the edge of the forest. Tall pines and ancient oaks stood shoulder to shoulder, their branches forming a dark canopy overhead.
Morning light filtered through the leaves in pale streaks.
The hunters entered the forest without hesitation.
Kael followed.
The woods smelled damp and earthy, filled with the quiet rustle of leaves and distant bird calls.
Kael kept his distance, ducking behind tree trunks whenever one of the men glanced back.
He felt incredibly clever.
Like a spy.
Or a scout.
Or a very small but extremely important member of the hunting party.
Ahead, Halren raised a hand.
The hunters slowed.
Darin crouched near the ground, brushing aside a patch of leaves.
"Tracks," he murmured.
The men gathered around him.
Kael couldn't see well from where he stood, so he crept closer.
A little closer.
Then a little closer.
He stepped over a fallen branch—
CRACK.
The sound split the quiet forest like a thunderclap.
Every hunter froze.
Six heads turned at once.
Kael stood there in the open, one foot still resting on the broken branch.
For a long moment no one spoke.
Garrick's eyes narrowed.
"Kael."
Kael winced.
"…Hi."
The hunters stared.
Darin slowly rubbed his face with one hand.
Halren sighed.
And Garrick began walking toward his son with the calm, patient steps of a man deciding exactly how much trouble someone was in.
For a moment, Kael considered running.
It was not a good plan.
His father could outrun him easily, and even if Garrick didn't catch him, the other hunters certainly would. Darin alone could probably grab him before he made it three steps.
So Kael stayed exactly where he was, one foot still resting on the broken branch like a criminal caught mid-crime.
Garrick stopped a few paces away.
He did not look angry.
That somehow felt worse.
"Morning," Garrick said.
Kael swallowed.
"…Morning."
Behind Garrick, the other hunters watched the scene with poorly hidden amusement.
Darin crossed his arms. One of the older men had already started grinning.
Halren, however, just sighed quietly and rubbed his beard.
Garrick looked down at Kael.
"You want to explain why my six-year-old son is standing in the middle of a hunting trail before sunrise?"
Kael thought very hard about his answer.
Finally he said, "I woke up early."
Garrick stared at him.
"That is technically true," Kael added.
One of the hunters snorted.
Garrick rubbed his temple.
"You followed us."
"Yes."
"You snuck out of the house."
"…Yes."
"You ignored your mother."
Kael hesitated.
"…Probably."
The hunters chuckled quietly behind Garrick.
Darin shook his head.
"Bold," he muttered.
Garrick crouched down so he was eye level with his son.
"Kael."
Kael straightened slightly.
"Yes, sir."
"This is the forest."
"I know."
"There are wolves."
"I know."
"Boar."
"I know."
"Things in these woods that would not even slow down before eating a boy your size."
Kael blinked.
"…I didn't know that one."
Garrick leaned forward slightly.
"And you still came."
Kael lifted his chin.
"I wanted to help."
The words came out firm.
No whining.
No excuses.
Just stubborn honesty.
For a moment Garrick said nothing.
Behind them, Halren stepped closer.
"He followed quietly enough that none of us noticed," the chief said.
"That's true," Darin added. "And we're not exactly beginners."
Garrick shot them both a look.
"That is not helping."
Kael quickly jumped in.
"I can be quiet," he said.
"You stepped on a branch."
"That was one branch."
Darin chuckled again.
Halren studied the boy carefully.
Kael stood there in the cold morning air, hair messy, cloak crooked, wooden sword hanging from his belt like he was ready for battle.
The chief looked back to Garrick.
"He's stubborn."
Garrick sighed.
"That he is."
Kael's eyes lit up slightly.
Garrick noticed immediately.
"No."
Kael deflated.
"But—"
"No."
"I could carry arrows."
"No."
"I could watch for enemies."
"No."
"I could—"
"Kael."
The boy fell quiet.
Garrick stood and rubbed his beard again.
The hunters waited.
Finally Garrick spoke again.
"You walk beside me," he said.
Kael blinked.
"…What?"
"You walk beside me," Garrick repeated slowly. "You do not run ahead. You do not wander. You do not make a sound unless I say so."
Kael's mouth slowly opened.
"And if you disobey me once," Garrick continued, "I carry you back to the village myself."
Kael's face exploded with excitement.
"I won't disobey!"
"Good."
"You won't even know I'm here!"
"I already know you're here."
Halren chuckled.
"Well," the chief said, "looks like we've gained the youngest hunter Willowmere's ever seen."
Kael beamed.
Darin crouched again near the disturbed leaves.
"Deer," he said, pointing at the ground. "Fresh tracks."
Kael leaned forward curiously.
The prints in the soft earth were clear once someone pointed them out.
Two narrow shapes pressed into the soil.
"How can you tell?" Kael whispered.
Darin tapped the ground.
"Split hooves. Light step. See how the dirt lifts here?"
Kael squinted.
He could kind of see it.
Sort of.
Maybe.
Garrick rested a hand lightly on Kael's shoulder.
"Stay close."
Kael nodded fiercely.
The hunters moved again, slipping deeper into the forest.
This time Kael walked beside his father.
He tried to copy the hunters exactly.
Quiet steps.
Slow breathing.
Eyes scanning the trees the way Darin did.
The forest felt huge now.
Alive.
Birds rustled through branches overhead. Somewhere far off, something large moved through the brush.
Kael's heart pounded with excitement.
He was on a real hunt.
After several minutes, Darin stopped again and raised a hand.
Everyone froze.
Kael froze too.
Darin slowly lifted his bow.
Across a small clearing, between two tall birch trees, something moved.
Brown.
Graceful.
A deer stepped into view.
Kael's eyes widened.
The hunters held perfectly still.
Darin slowly pulled an arrow from his quiver.
The bow bent as he drew the string back.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Kael didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even breathe.
Then—
TWANG.
The arrow flew.
And the hunt truly began.
The arrow sliced through the quiet morning air.
For a heartbeat it seemed to glide perfectly, straight toward the deer's chest.
Then the animal's ears flicked.
Its head jerked up.
The arrow struck the ground just behind it.
The deer bolted.
In an instant the clearing exploded with motion. The animal leapt forward, hooves pounding through brush and fallen leaves, disappearing into the trees.
"Move," Halren said quietly.
The hunters surged forward.
Not running wildly, but moving fast and steady, weaving between the trees with practiced ease.
Kael stumbled for half a step before catching up beside his father.
His heart hammered in his chest.
"That was close," he whispered.
Garrick didn't answer.
His eyes stayed locked on the forest ahead.
Darin had already crouched near where the deer had stood, fingers brushing the ground.
"Arrow scared it," he murmured. "But it didn't hit."
He pointed ahead.
"Tracks."
The hunters spread slightly as they moved deeper into the woods.
Kael stayed glued to Garrick's side, trying very hard to place his feet the same way the adults did. Quiet. Careful.
The forest floor was damp with fallen leaves. Every step threatened to crunch or snap something.
Kael concentrated harder than he ever had in his life.
He imagined himself as a shadow.
A silent scout.
A legendary hunter.
His foot landed on a patch of soft moss.
Perfect.
No sound at all.
He grinned.
Ahead of them Darin paused again.
The men gathered around.
Kael leaned closer.
The ground was marked with fresh hoofprints now, clearer in the soft dirt.
Darin pointed.
"It's slowing."
"How can you tell?" Kael whispered.
Darin tapped the track.
"The stride's shorter. It's nervous."
Kael squinted at the print.
To him it still looked like a weird hole in the dirt.
But he nodded anyway like he understood.
The hunters moved again.
The forest thickened as they went. Tall oaks stretched overhead, their branches blocking much of the morning light. The air smelled rich with damp earth and pine.
Birds scattered as the group passed.
After several minutes Halren raised his hand again.
Everyone froze.
Kael froze too.
Even his breathing stopped.
Darin slowly crouched near a fallen log.
Then he lifted two fingers and pointed.
Kael followed the direction carefully.
There.
Between the trees.
The deer.
It stood about thirty paces away, head lowered as it cautiously sniffed the ground.
Its sides rose and fell with quick breaths.
It hadn't run far.
The hunters spread slightly.
Darin drew another arrow.
Garrick's hand rested lightly on Kael's shoulder, keeping him perfectly still.
The forest felt impossibly quiet.
Kael could hear everything.
Leaves shifting in the wind.
A bird calling somewhere high above.
The slow creak of Darin's bow as he pulled the string back.
The deer lifted its head again.
Darin released.
TWANG.
This time the arrow struck true.
The deer jolted, stumbling forward several steps before collapsing into the brush.
Silence followed.
No one moved for a moment.
Then Halren nodded once.
"Good shot."
The tension drained from the group.
Kael let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"That was amazing," he whispered.
Garrick gave his shoulder a small squeeze.
The hunters approached the fallen deer carefully.
Darin knelt beside it, resting a hand briefly on its side.
Then he nodded.
"Clean."
Halren looked satisfied.
"This will feed several families."
Kael stepped closer, staring in awe.
The deer was larger up close than he expected.
Its brown coat shimmered faintly in the early light.
For a moment Kael felt strangely quiet inside.
The hunt suddenly felt different than he imagined.
More serious.
More real.
Darin began preparing the animal while the others watched the surrounding trees.
Garrick crouched beside Kael.
"You see why this isn't a game?"
Kael nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Garrick studied his face.
"You still glad you came?"
Kael looked at the deer.
Then at the hunters.
Then back into the deep forest stretching endlessly around them.
"Yes," he said softly.
Garrick stood and ruffled his hair.
"Well then," he said, "stay sharp."
Because the morning hunt was only just beginning.
For a while the forest filled with the quiet, practiced rhythm of work.
The hunters moved with calm efficiency around the fallen deer. Darin and another man began dressing the animal while Halren and Garrick kept watch, their eyes scanning the tree line and listening for anything that didn't belong.
Kael stood close beside his father, trying very hard not to get in the way.
He watched everything.
Every movement.
Every tool.
The way Darin's knife moved carefully along the hide. The way the men spoke in low voices, never louder than the wind in the leaves.
Even the forest seemed to respect the moment.
Birdsong had quieted.
The tall trees stood still.
Kael shifted slightly closer to Garrick.
"Why are they cutting it here?" he whispered.
"So we don't carry unnecessary weight," Garrick murmured back.
Kael nodded like that made perfect sense.
It sort of did.
Mostly.
The work didn't take long. These were men who had done this many times before.
Soon the deer had been prepared and the meat wrapped carefully in cloth and rope. Two of the hunters secured the bundle to a wooden carrying pole.
Halren stepped back and looked at the group.
"One down," he said.
Darin wiped his blade clean and slid it back into its sheath.
"The herd should still be moving north," he said.
Garrick glanced down at Kael.
"You holding up?"
Kael nodded instantly.
"I'm fine."
"You cold?"
"No."
"Tired?"
"No."
"Hungry?"
"…maybe a little."
Garrick reached into the pouch at his belt and handed Kael a small piece of dried meat.
Kael took it like it was treasure.
"Thanks."
The hunters began moving again, deeper into the woods.
This time Kael walked more carefully.
The excitement of sneaking along had faded slightly. Now he understood something important.
The forest was not a playground.
It was quiet.
Watchful.
Every sound mattered.
Darin walked at the front again, eyes sweeping across the ground as he followed faint tracks through the undergrowth.
The sun had climbed higher now, thin rays of light filtering between branches and warming the damp earth.
After nearly half an hour, Darin slowed again.
He crouched low near a patch of disturbed leaves.
Halren stepped beside him.
"More tracks?"
Darin nodded.
"Two deer this time."
Kael leaned forward, squinting at the ground.
This time he could actually see the marks.
Two sets of hoofprints pressed into the dirt.
"That means more meat," Kael whispered excitedly.
Halren smiled faintly.
"Hopefully."
The hunters spread out slightly again, moving slower now.
The forest had grown thicker here.
Tall ferns brushed their legs as they walked. Fallen logs and tangled roots crisscrossed the ground.
Kael carefully stepped over one large root—
And froze.
Something felt different.
At first he wasn't sure what it was.
Then he realized.
The forest had gone quiet again.
Not the peaceful quiet from before.
This quiet felt… tight.
Even the birds had stopped calling.
Kael tugged gently on Garrick's sleeve.
His father looked down.
"What is it?"
Kael whispered, "Why did everything stop?"
Garrick's eyes shifted across the trees.
He noticed it too.
Darin had stopped walking ahead of them.
Halren slowly raised a hand.
The hunters froze instantly.
Everyone listened.
Leaves rustled somewhere deeper in the woods.
Not the light step of a deer.
Heavier.
Slower.
Then came a low sound.
A deep, rumbling grunt.
Kael's stomach tightened.
Garrick's hand moved to the knife at his belt.
Darin slowly lifted his bow.
Halren spoke in the quietest voice possible.
"…Boar."
Kael's eyes widened.
He had heard stories about wild boars.
Huge.
Mean.
Fast.
And very angry.
Another rustle shook the brush ahead.
Branches snapped.
Whatever was moving toward them was not small.
Garrick crouched quickly beside Kael.
"Stay behind me."
Kael nodded, suddenly very aware of how small he was in the middle of this forest.
The brush parted.
And a massive dark shape stepped into the clearing.
The boar was enormous.
Thick shoulders.
Dark bristled fur.
And long, curved tusks that caught the morning light like polished knives.
It snorted, stamping the ground.
Its small eyes locked onto the hunters.
For a long moment, no one moved.
The boar lowered its head.
And charged.
The boar exploded forward like a boulder rolling downhill.
It moved far faster than something that large had any right to move. Leaves and dirt sprayed behind its hooves as it tore through the brush, head low, tusks flashing white.
"Move!" Halren barked.
The hunters scattered.
Darin already had an arrow nocked. He drew the bowstring back smoothly as the boar thundered toward them.
TWANG.
The arrow flew.
It struck the boar's shoulder with a dull thud.
The animal barely slowed.
Instead it roared, a deep, furious sound that seemed to shake the trees themselves.
"Again!" Halren shouted.
Darin reached for another arrow, but the boar was already too close.
Garrick grabbed Kael by the back of his cloak and shoved him behind a thick oak tree.
"Stay here!"
Kael stumbled but caught himself, pressing his back against the rough bark.
His heart hammered so loudly he could hear it in his ears.
Across the clearing, the boar slammed through a patch of brush and veered straight toward one of the hunters.
The man barely jumped aside in time as the animal's tusks ripped through the air where his legs had been.
Another hunter drove his spear forward.
The spear struck the boar's side.
The animal shrieked and twisted violently, snapping the shaft in half as it tore free.
Darin loosed another arrow.
This one struck deeper, sinking into the boar's thick neck.
Still it came.
Kael's hands clenched around his wooden sword.
Everything felt chaotic.
Men shouting.
Branches breaking.
The boar charging back and forth through the clearing like a living battering ram.
Then Kael saw it.
The animal turned suddenly, its dark eyes locking onto Garrick.
His father stood only a few steps away, knife in hand.
"Garrick!" Halren shouted.
The boar lunged.
Time seemed to slow.
Kael's chest tightened.
His dad.
The boar's massive body barreled forward, tusks lowered.
Garrick stepped to the side at the last second, slashing with the knife as the animal rushed past. The blade cut along its shoulder, but the wound only made the beast angrier.
It skidded in the dirt and turned again.
This time it saw Kael.
The boy froze.
The boar snorted, pawing the ground.
Its small eyes fixed on him.
Kael felt suddenly very, very small.
"KAEL!" Garrick roared.
The boar charged.
Kael's mind went blank.
His wooden sword felt tiny in his hand.
Useless.
The ground shook as the animal rushed toward him.
Then—
THWACK.
An arrow slammed into the boar's side.
Darin.
The animal stumbled for half a step.
Just enough.
Garrick lunged forward, grabbing Kael by the collar and yanking him sideways behind the tree.
The boar crashed past them, smashing into the trunk with a heavy thud.
Before it could recover, Halren stepped in with a heavy spear.
He drove the point forward with both hands.
The spear struck deep into the boar's chest.
The animal thrashed violently, kicking up dirt and leaves.
Darin's final arrow followed a heartbeat later.
It struck clean behind the ear.
The boar staggered.
Then collapsed.
The forest fell silent again.
For a moment no one moved.
Kael sat on the ground where Garrick had dragged him, his heart pounding like a drum.
Garrick stood over him, breathing hard.
Then his father grabbed him by the shoulders.
"What did I tell you?" Garrick demanded.
Kael swallowed.
"Stay behind you."
"And where were you?"
"…behind a tree."
"Not the right tree!"
The other hunters slowly approached the fallen boar.
Halren leaned on the spear, catching his breath.
"Well," he said between breaths, "that'll feed the village too."
Darin shook his head, pulling the last arrow free.
"Mean old brute."
Garrick ran a hand through his hair, still staring down at Kael.
For a moment Kael thought he might actually be in the worst trouble of his life.
Then Garrick pulled him into a quick, tight hug.
"You scared the hell out of me," he muttered.
Kael hugged him back.
"…Sorry."
Garrick pulled away and looked him over.
"You hurt?"
Kael shook his head.
"No."
Halren walked over, studying the boy.
"Well," the chief said thoughtfully, "he kept quiet until it mattered."
Darin chuckled.
"And he didn't run."
Kael looked up at them, still wide-eyed.
"That thing was huge."
"Yes," Garrick said dryly. "And that is exactly why six-year-olds stay home."
Kael nodded slowly.
But despite the fear still buzzing through his chest…
A small spark of excitement flickered there too.
Because he had just survived his first hunt.
And Willowmere's youngest hunter had a story he would remember for the rest of his life.
Halren examined the wound from the spear and gave a satisfied nod.
"That'll fill a lot of pots this winter."
Kael circled the boar slowly like he was inspecting a legendary monster.
Then he looked up at his father.
"Did you see it?"
Garrick raised an eyebrow.
"I saw a lot of things."
"The slash!" Kael said excitedly, grabbing his wooden sword and swinging it through the air in a wildly exaggerated motion. "You went like—SHHK!—and then it ran past you!"
Darin laughed.
"That was a decent cut."
Garrick shook his head slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You weren't supposed to be close enough to see that."
"But I did," Kael said proudly.
He crouched next to the broken spear shaft sticking out of the ground.
"How do you make spears like that?"
Halren chuckled.
"Carefully."
Kael pointed at Darin's bow.
"And the bows—how do they not snap when you pull them?"
"Strong wood," Darin said.
"What kind of wood?"
"Yew mostly."
"What's fletching made of?"
"Feathers."
"What kind?"
"Depends."
Kael looked back to Garrick.
"And your knife—how sharp is it?"
"Sharp enough."
"Can you teach me that slash?"
"No."
Kael frowned.
"But—"
"You're six."
"I'm almost seven."
"You are not."
Kael opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Halren laughed quietly.
The chief rested a hand on the boar's hide.
"Well," Halren said, looking around at the group, "we've already got more meat than we expected this morning."
Darin nodded toward the brightening sky.
"The sun's climbing."
Through the branches overhead, the pale gold light of morning had begun to spread across the forest.
Birds were returning to the trees.
The quiet hunting stillness had faded.
"Most of the animals will bed down soon," Darin added. "Not much point pressing deeper."
Halren nodded once.
"We head back."
The hunters began preparing the boar, tying ropes around its legs so it could be carried with the deer meat.
Kael watched everything again.
Every knot.
Every movement.
Every tool.
His mind raced with questions.
When Garrick lifted the carrying pole with another hunter, Kael immediately stepped forward.
"I can help!"
"You cannot," Garrick said.
"I'm strong!"
"You're small."
"I could carry arrows."
"You can walk."
Kael accepted this compromise reluctantly.
As the hunters began the trek back toward Willowmere, Kael stayed glued to his father's side again.
But now he wasn't quiet because he was scared.
He was quiet because he was thinking.
After a while he looked up.
"Dad?"
"Hm?"
"Can you teach me knives?"
Garrick glanced down at him.
"Knives?"
Kael nodded eagerly.
"Like the one you used on the boar."
Garrick walked in silence for a few steps.
"You start with wooden blades first."
"I already have one."
"You barely know how to use it."
"I'm learning."
"You're learning how to get into trouble."
Kael grinned.
"That too."
The other hunters chuckled ahead of them.
Kael kicked a small stone as they walked.
"But I want to know everything," he said.
"Everything?"
"Everything."
"About what?"
"Hunting. Knives. Bows. Tracking. Fighting monsters. All of it."
Garrick looked at him again, studying his face.
The fear from earlier had vanished completely.
Now Kael's eyes were bright.
Curious.
Hungry for knowledge.
Just like a certain stubborn knight Garrick remembered being many years ago.
Garrick exhaled slowly.
"Well," he said finally, "if you're going to learn… you start with discipline."
Kael nodded immediately.
"I can do discipline."
Garrick snorted.
"We'll see."
They walked on through the forest as the morning sunlight spilled between the trees.
Birdsong returned.
The path toward Willowmere slowly opened ahead of them.
Behind the hunters, the woods settled back into quiet.
But beside Garrick Thorne, the youngest member of the hunting party walked with a grin that refused to fade.
Because somewhere deep inside his six-year-old mind, Kael had just discovered something important.
He didn't just want to be a knight anymore.
He wanted to learn everything.