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Writer's pictureNicholas Adams

Chapter 1: Laryn

Updated: Mar 19, 2020

Beckoned by the early morning, Laryn lazily lingered out of sleep to the call of light footsteps. He had slept on the trunk of a marath tree, not far from his home. He loved the soft bark and the heavy vines that adorned the short and twisted tree. Looking upon it from the outside, the marath was the shape of a jagged dome and it resembled a thorn bush heavily laden with vines. From the inside, as only those few who had endeavoured to explore it knew, it was a hollow gallery of soft greenery. The marath covered the growth beneath it from the sun, but offered its nutrients to the plants that decided to grow in its shady ecosystem. Laryn often thought that he was one of those, basking in its life. He often found a place underneath the thick leaves to sleep or relax. The patch of trunk where he leaned was softened with years of his back and it now cradled him like a soft chair.


Laryn crept up to his knees and made a neat part in the leaves overlooking the water. It was his doorway and his window, the only way he knew the world outside of him continued to exist. When he waited long enough and nothing revealed itself, he crawled back to rest on the tree, as he had longed to do on a morning without work. If he rose early enough, he would see a fishing boat filled with three strong men and a stocky dwarf. They were heading downstream, the rower's waking muscles silently tacking away from shore to the large and lively belly of water, half a winter day's walk from home. When he could, Laryn would sit and admire the men's smooth and graceful strokes rippling through the water with power. The twins, Baran and Grahn, sat opposite each other. They were tall and quick, evenly matched in strength which lead to a brotherly rivalry. Occasionally Laryn could hear them shouting jeers at one another in the first light of the morning, and they often lead the boat in snaking patterns down the white river, attempting to prove which was the better oarsman, but this routine didn't continue for long. The older man who sat in a back corner of the boat was the most experienced by far. Murr was old and stern and his age gifted him with vitality and experience. He steered the boat by issuing orders and barking commands, often at the younger boys. He was built larger and taller than the boys and had tight, tanned leathery skin with rippling muscles which maneuvered the long oar with ease, but Laryn often found himself marvelling at the dwarf instead. The strength of the men was obvious, but Dürth was built like a small mountain. He had a stout and wrinkled face which was never far from a smile, outlined by a well kept curly red beard. He pulled each stroke with his arms and back, shaking the water with ripples like a thrown boulder. Laryn remembered being woken one morning by a loud crack of wood and a tumble of water. He had thought lighting had struck a tree just across the river. Quickly lunging out of the comfort of the marath tree, he looked just down river at the group of fishermen wading in the water. Dürth's head poked out of the lake along with three disgruntled faces. He had seen Laryn's nervous look and shouted.

"Sorry fer waken yeh!" Dürth had snapped his oar in half and along with it came the oarlock. Laryn's father had taken the shattered boat back to his smithy and replaced Dürth's oarlock with a sturdier metal and carved another oar out of a hardier wood. The sun would never have risen by the time their oars had touched the water, but they all knew their course.


Across from the water, he would occasionally see a rustle in the brush. Most mornings the ever eager Niera would emerge from the thick forest and peer across the water to see if Laryn was awake. She was a hunter who rose before the sun with her father, the head oarsman Murr. She always hunted on foot; like a forager, and unlike any other hunter in their village. She reasoned with him once that it was silly to hunt animals on the back of one. He couldn't argue much with her philosophy because she was the best hunter the village had.


Laryn was a season younger than Niera, and they grew up together adventuring, laughing, playing, and making mischief. Rather than spotting her from across the calm waters this morning, Niera appeared silently and dextrously at the opening in the leaves, shocking Laryn out of the quickly fading hope of sleep.

"There you are! You should really think about sleeping in your house more often, it makes it much easier for me to find you."

Niera gazed in, a sharp face held her rich almond eyes which seemed to give off a dark light of their own. Her shimmering bright hair caught the gentle light of the moon and lit up Laryn's hovel. It was tied into a tight braid that rested just above her hips. She was thin and strong, built to be the perfect hunter. Two bows and their matching quivers clung to her shoulder. One was elegant and silver, the other was little more than a practice bow. She was clearly ready for a hunt. A common sight.

"Maybe that's what I intended." Laryn said slowly, without a detectable trace of humour. She revealed a playful smile which took up most of her face.

"The sun's almost up, what are you still doing asleep? Come on! Get up lazy!" With the hope of an easy morning gone, Laryn submitted to Niera's eagerness. He got to his knees and peered out of the parting in the tree. The sun still hadn't risen, but this was already late enough for Niera.

"Not everyone works on your schedule. I can't have one restful morning?" Laryn said, stepping out of the tree's alcove, rubbing his eyes gently as they were exposed to the morning sun.


Laryn stood wearily facing Niera. He was more than two heads taller than her, but that said more about his size that hers. In the past few seasons Laryn had grown with astonishing speed. It was once, many years ago, that Niera would have stood taller than him. Now Laryn made her, and most others for that matter, crane their neck almost uncomfortably to look upon his face. A task not many minded save for a few stubborn dwarfs. He was long and sinewy with an obvious strength that billowed through deep muscles just underneath his skin. His hair was a thick earthy brown, coursing with streaks of honey from many days spent working in the sun. His skin resembled the pale brown of revealed birch bark which coated his strong body. His eyes were set deep in his face, allowing his rich green eyes to cut effortlessly through the shade of his hard brow.

"That's rest enough. If we worked on your schedule, it would already be winter! Plus, I need your help. We have to prepare for today's feast!" He saw a dash of her long braid cut through the still dark morning as she turned. Just as quickly as she had come she was gone, running off through the trees to the bridge near the village centre. Laryn often had this same decision to make each morning.

'I could stay and sleep. She would never turn around' Laryn thought, but he knew he would never hear the end of it. He had no choice but to follow. 'I really cannot catch a break, can I?' He thought as he broke out into a run.


Laryn bounded through the winding path towards the sleeping village, deftly ducking under low branches and jumping over thick knots of tree root. This was a walk that he regularly relished, taking his time, basking in the morning woods. This morning he was given no such luxury, but he knew the path well so it was no difficult task to maneuver through it quickly, even in the dark. He walked through the short path near the village centre, the houses and shops illuminated only briefly by the light of the moons off of the river. He approached the bridge to the forest and a hooded figure awaited him.

"Still not quick enough to catch me. How are you going to bring back any deer?" The figure tossed him the dull training bow and its quiver of arrows then turned and flashed a recognizable smile. Niera bounded off and became part of the early morning's darkness.


Laryn walked this path every morning into Rivenstead to work odd jobs around the village. His stature made his presence highly requested as he was right to fit most any job, so he was often borrowed. One day he would be foraging with old Graymond, a dwarf who had lived for over a hundred years and had ten stories for each. Laryn had thought that the dwarf's height had made for an optimal forager, but he could no longer climb trees as deftly as he once could, or so he had claimed. Laryn found it hard to imagine a time when Graymond could have ever done so much as jump over a fallen tree trunk, but he kept that thought to himself. Graymond had lost most of his strength with his age, but he was still as sharp as an arrow. He knew under which stumps to look to find the best mushrooms, which branches to pluck the ripest fruits, where to dig for roots and plants for healing salves, and any other ingredients that he was requested to find. Laryn liked these days, listening to tales that Graymond would spin filled the hikes with wonder and intrigue, colouring the simple village and the world beyond with history and myth.


Another day Laryn would be asked to fill in for one of the fishermen when one of the younger boys was nowhere to be found, or had slept in past their time. These were hard mornings but they were made up for by the time that he got to spend out on the vast and peaceful lake. Murr and Dürth provided great company, as well as the whichever brother was present on the day. The small group would spend most days with each other and Laryn thought that it must have been refreshing to have a new face around. The group had built up quite the entertaining rapport, but whenever someone would make a jest at another man's fishing or rowing ability, Laryn would crack a joke at his own expense to try and deter a fight. He wasn't a skilled fisher, but he had a feeling that they kept him along for that reason.


On the rare day that no one called for him, he spent working with his father and mother at the blacksmith and wood shop. Forging nails and scythes, repairing carts, boats, cutting wood to size for buildings and crafting doors and hinges to go with them. His parents were busy, but loved their work almost as much as the rest of the village had loved them.


This morning, he would be hunting with Niera, playing catch-up to her deft and hushed movements, stalking their prey with soft footfalls through the new summer leaves. In the beginning would often scare away their game by clumsily stepping on a dry branch or causing some other disturbance. The one he was most embarrassed with was when he had sneezed not twenty steps from a wild pig. It ran off with a squeal and Niera didn't even try to chase it, she just looked at Laryn with eyes that said 'you idiot'. But Niera was understanding. Eventually, he learned, and under her tutelage he became quite the hunter himself. If he were to go out on his own he would bring back a hare or two, and if he were very patient a deer. On a good day, Niera would bring back what she could carry. Going back out into the forest to collect all of her marked kills almost necessitated another field of work. She was a gift to the village, a skilled hunter and an encouraging and well loved girl. Still young, but a patient teacher to everyone that was eager to learn.


As Laryn pressed on, jogging through the darkness of the forest, he followed only a hint of Niera's presence. This seemed to be how these mornings went. It would begin with quite the chase on Laryn's part, the first hunt of his morning being Niera. She told him that it was to help with his tracking abilities. So much for that. Often times when Laryn thought he was just on her trail she would call after him distantly with their practised whistle and he would be forced to turn sharply around, chasing blindly in another direction. The forest had no paths. It was left as natural as the day the founders had came upon it. Because of this, it was a haven for animals and hunters alike. During the winter months, hunting was not allowed by the village to allow the forest's animals to repopulate and live without fear and they survived off of the storage of food they collected through the plentiful harvest months. Because of this it was always a prosperous place to hunt.


Laryn had ran nearly until the sun came up. It had risen just enough to reveal the tops of the trees and to wake the animals of the forest from their gentle slumber. Through thin streams and hanging trees, overtop of fallen logs and hills of hard rock, the landscape felt endless and unfamiliar at every turn. Laryn felt like each of his steps was the first to ever have tread on this patch of earth, until he saw Niera's just ahead of him. The woods felt sacred and gentle and Laryn felt responsible for the discovery of this sacred space that he was introducing to humanity. Laryn looked towards the ground for a sign of Niera and his foot fell into what looked like Niera's boot track. He looked ahead and slowed his pace as he caught sight of Niera not far ahead crouched behind a bush. It was clear that she had seen something. He ducked down low and walked quietly behind her, being careful not to step on any of the dried forest floor. When he had gotten close enough behind her he saw that she had her eye on a deer grazing peacefully and unaware not far from where she silently camouflaged herself. Wordlessly and without taking her focus from the animal, she pointed at Laryn, then to the deer. He knew that it was his kill. He had grown confident with a bow and felt proud whenever Niera asked him to shoot their prey. Missing out on a kill wasn't much to her, but the opportunity felt good to Laryn. He still needed the practice.


Laryn gently drew an arrow from its quiver and nocked it, pulling the string taught. He inhaled deeply. He could feel Niera's watchful eyes on him as he lined up the shot. The arrow was aimed to pierce deer's breast. Carefully he let go of the bow string letting the arrow rip through the cool air. As he let go of the string, he felt wrong. The arrow flew fast with the intent of harm. The arrow lodged deep in the unexacting deer's left hind leg and it let out a loud screech and began to run.

"Shit." Laryn said under his breath, but Niera was quick. She nocked an arrow as she rose and shot. The arrow floated just overtop the fleeing deer.

"Come on, you have to finish what you started." Niera said sternly. He was struck with guilt as she took the lead following the brisk pace of the deer, quickly noting droplets of blood and soft hoof prints on the forest floor, correcting her movement ever so slightly.


It was another great effort to keep up with her and she was blindingly eager to end the deer's suffering that she couldn't bring it upon herself to slow down. He lost her in the woods once again and was left to his own tracking ability. He continued at a fast pace, faster than he would have liked, but he didn't want to lose Niera. He spotted soft tracks in the dirt where hoof prints and boot prints met, low hanging tree branches still fresh with life snapped in his hurry. Droplets of blood painted the green growth of the forest red with pain and Laryn stetted to run faster reminded of the deer's pain.


Laryn ran past a large trace of blood when a hand plunged out from behind a tree and hammered onto his chest. Startled, he turned to the figure and a second hand rose quickly to silence his mouth. He caught a flash of blonde hair and saw wide brown eyes gazing intently in front of him. Her hands dextrously dropped to a quiver of arrows at her side, nocking the beautiful bow with silent efficiency. Laryn looked in front of them. In a small clearing thirty steps ahead was their deer. The arrow was still plunged into its hind leg, but the deer was long dead. A tall and slender animal had caught the deer and pinned it to the ground.

"It's a karath." Niera whispered to him excitedly, her bow taught and aimed at the beast. "I've seen many traces of this beast, but I've never met it." She said calmly, as the karath slammed the long dead deer once more onto the ground.


The karath was coated in thick brown fur and bore a long black stripe down its back which continued onto its tail. It had six short legs which protruded from the side of its body and its knees split the legs almost immediately. Its long jaw was lined with a row of jagged teeth, each resembling a small hunting knife similar to the one on Niera's waist. Its face was thin and vicious like a swords edge and it gleamed with a thick coat of red blood. Its black eyes sunk into its narrow skull and faced in opposite directions. It hurried along the ground at harrowing pace and stood on its hind legs with ease, revealing its bare black underbelly. The Karath showed them its true height when it reeled its body high into the air, holding the deer in its massive jaws to slam it once more onto the hard ground, standing a head taller than Laryn. "I think we've found our new prey." She said excitedly as the beast rose into the air once more. Laryn tried to protest, but was silenced by the soft sound of an arrow wicking through the air.


The karath let out a shrill, clicking roar as the arrowhead cut through the beasts black flesh with ease. The karath dropped the deer to the ground and looked towards the two.

"Distract it." Niera said as she took off with a sprint.

"Wai..!" But the karath had found him. Its yellow and black eyes narrowed into slits as it squared its body to rush towards Laryn. The karath began writhing horribly, contorting along the green undergrowth with its short legs as it began to cut through the foliage towards him. Laryn turned as soon as it started to move and bolted around a nearby tree, darting quickly in-between any growth he could find in an attempt to slow down the karath. Its footsteps were fast and loud, looming closer behind him with every step forcing Laryn to push his muscles harder and harder.

'Where is Niera?' Laryn thought panicked. He had felt like he was flying through the forest, but nothing could turn the beasts ravenous hunt. Growing desperate, he ripped the bow off of his back and grabbed an arrow, clumsily pulling out several more onto the ground to tumble behind him. He continued to run and nocked an arrow. With a great struggle, Laryn had gained about 15 steps on the beast. He swung around to face it, heaving through the light brush and loosed a strong arrow towards it. The arrow lodged into the karath's thick leg, forcing it to come to a crashing halt. As it hit the ground Laryn took no pause as he reached for another arrow from the quiver on his back. He grasped at air as he spied a teasing glint of the sun on an iron arrowhead off in the distance. He looked along the forest floor desperately, searching for anything to defend himself. He found a heavy log, just large enough that he couldn't lift it with both arms, straining as desperately as he did. Defeated, he dragged the log along the ground, unsure of what his plan was.


Armed with a small tree, he faced the rising beast. The karath glared at him at him, its bottom front teeth protruding upwards from its sickly mouth. Its head was painted red and brown, the dirt and blood congealing into a red mud. White froth was growing from the edges of its mouth, spilling over onto the damp ground. Two long tongues wicked out on either side of its mouth to clean the area around its eyes. It snarled a low and hungry sound. Suddenly the karath launched itself towards Laryn, all of its legs pushed a thrusting force through its attack. The weight of the beast toppled him and trapped him underneath its warm body. The blow had almost knocked the log from his hands, but Laryn gripped it so tight that he could feel the wood ripping underneath his hands. The beast's underbelly was hot and oozing blood from the arrow wound which now coated them both. Frozen, Laryn stared back at the beast which loomed above him. The karath looked at him curiously, tilting its head from side to side quickly, as if it was examining him. Its breath was foul and hot and it assaulted his face like a heavy fog. Coming to his senses, Laryn managed to pull the massive weight of the log in-between him and the karath. Just as he had done so, the beast plunged its head down hard revealing a gaping jaw wide enough to hold the deer. Long teeth jagged teeth lined its mouth to hold an animal still as it died so that it could not escape.


Laryn thrust the branch deep into the beats cavernous mouth and it bit down hard, one of his longer teeth cleaving Laryn's forearm. Laryn yelled in pain as the jagged tooth came out of the other side of his arm, but he managed to hold the log in place, groaning through the biting pain. Laryn kicked at the beasts body as it struggled to dislodge its teeth which had sunken deep into the log and his forearm, but it was so slick with blood that his feet slid hopelessly off of its belly. Gathering all of his strength, Laryn drew his legs deep into his body and put his feet up against the black skin of the karath, steadying his legs against the slick and bloodied underbelly. Laryn pushed with both of his legs so hard that it drove his own body deep into the dirt and uprooted the karath's teeth from his arm and the mangled log with a clean slice. The karath flew off of him and onto its back nearby, struggling to regain a foothold.


Laryn scanned the ground, frantically searching for another weapon to defend himself when he heard a soft whistle like an arrow piercing the wind. Niera flew from the branch of a tree high up in the forest, plunging through the heavy air. She landed hard on the karath's soft stomach, knife in hand, driving the blade deep into its underbelly. The karath released a shrill screech that made Laryn cover his ears. The sound was quickly replaced with a swift slice of cold iron through hot flesh, finally silencing the beast. With her blood red blade shining in the morning's sun, she squatted silently next to the beasts open neck. He felt anger growing inside of him.

"That thing almost killed me!" He pushed the words at her hard, hoping she would find some regret inside of her.

"I would never have left you alone if I didn't know you could handle yourself. Look at you, you're almost as tall as the thing!" He was about to respond, but a biting pain struck his arm. He looked down at his forearm, unable to tell which blood was his. All he could tell was that it was flowing quickly out of his arm, mixing with the deep red of the karath's drying blood. "It bit you pretty hard." Niera said as she walked over to him, removing the cloak from her back. She dried the blood off of the blade with her pant leg and cut the thick fabric of her cloak into a long strip. "You owe me one. I loved this cloak." She said as she wrapped the fabric around his long forearm.

"And I almost died." Laryn shot back, wincing as she tied the knot tight around his arm. "So we'll call it even." Laryn said. Niera looked up at him, her big almond eyes squinting to make room for her vast smile.

"Deal. Now come on, we have to lug this thing back home. We don't want people going hungry!"


Laryn walked alongside Niera quietly in the rising sunlight, sharing the weight of the beast overtop Niera's shoulders. He looked back at its lifeless body. He respected the karath. It had won a good fight from him. He knew it would taste even better this way. He shuddered to think how he would have tasted to the karath after such a fight. Karath was a rare find, even for Niera, and everyone knew how much lean and delicious meat it provided.

"Hey, I never properly thanked you for saving me back there. This thing almost had me." Laryn said, gesturing to the karath. "So, thanks." He said quickly, turning his head down to watch his feet.

"You don't have to thank me, I'm the one who almost got you killed." Niera said. "I should've known that a karath was too dangerous. It's my fault that you got hurt. I should have just left it the deer." That stung Laryn.

'Does she not think I could handle it?' Laryn thought. He wasn't a hunter, but here they were, talking back to the village with a dead karath over their shoulders.

"I thought I did pretty well for a blacksmith's boy." Laryn said bitterly.

"Oh, you did! But I could've done better." Niera said.

"And how is that?" Laryn shot back with a hint of anger.

"Well, for starters, I wouldn't have dropped all of my arrows." Niera said through her smug smile, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. "Or was that part of your master plan?" She said teasingly.

"What if he had stepped on one?" Laryn said hopelessly.

"I guess we'll never know." Niera said.

"Alright. You have a good point." Laryn said, defeated.

"Hey, just be happy for me that you're still around! the village would be a whole lot less exciting if that karath had gotten a better bite." Niera said in a slowing voice. She said the last part without humour and kept walking. Laryn knew when something was on her mind, but he had to let her start talking. Niera was always open with him. After a few more steps she spoke in a small voice. "I miss her Laryn."

"I know. We all do." Laryn said. He knew she was talking about.

"I still don't understand. I don't know if I ever will."


Selene was Niera's mother and Murr's wife. She was inhumanly beautiful and tall with long locks of silvery white hair. She stood half a head shorter than Murr, and Murr only stood a head shorter than Laryn. Selene was reserved and noble, with the grace of a queen. She always appeared distant in conversation, as if there was a deeper thought or concern within her. When she wasn't hunting, she was often found sitting on the end of the dock, dipping her feet gently in the cold morning water, gazing deep down the river. When she was hunting, her mind was only on that. She was the greatest hunter in the village. Niera had claimed that she was different when hunting. Selene slid across the morning air, elegant and graceful with light strides overtop the rich undergrowth. A passion enveloped her as she flew through the thick forest pathways like wind across a still lake. She never so much as unsettled a dead leaf from its branch. Selene was rarely seen without her bow. She had said that it was made from a beautiful dark wood from the Eastern realm of Magrath-Ein, woven with silver and encrusted with jewel's of onyx. A fire enveloped her as she pulled her bow taught. She seemed to fly alongside the arrow as it dashed into the heart of her prey, never missing, never allowing the animal to suffer any more than their loss of life.


Selene had loved Niera in that way which she loved the water and the forest. She taught Niera everything she knew about hunting, and not much else. And they loved each other deeply. As Selene was rarely without her bow, they were rarely without each other. Selene seemed warmer when she was with Niera, like a mother. Selene took Laryn on a few hunting trips with her and Niera. On the first trip in the overconfidence of his youth Laryn asked Selene how skilled a hunter she *really* was. Wordlessly, Selene turned and shot, like a sliver of moonlight come to life. It was only after they continued walking for a while that Laryn had found her arrow, covered in moss. She had stripped the thick moss off of a small stone, barely visible from where they had stood. The stone was undamaged and so was her arrow. The moss was still teeming with life. She placed it back onto the stone, mouthed a wordless prayer, and continued. It was only then that Laryn was able to understand Selene. In a small village, it was hard to keep your history to yourself, but Selene always managed to. Full of mystery, Selene was a constant topic of conversation. Many rumours floated around her but none could be taken as the truth.


On the day of Niera's womanhood, the morning of her sixteenth birthday, as if Selene had never been there, all that was left of her was her beautiful bow. Since that day, nobody had seen her. People guessed wildly, speaking in hushed tones that the hunt had gotten the best of her.

'Surely she had been outnumbered by a pack of wolves!' or 'No, she must have been cornered by a deep forest elk.' These were two common guesses, but Laryn had known as well as Niera that she had left her bow on purpose. Selene would never be so clumsy as to be caught defenceless. Niera wielded Selene's bow every morning, continuing her mother's valuable role to the village with pride, trying to be unflinching in her loss. The loss was made easier to the village because Niera was born with the skill and looks of her mother, tall and slender with bright silky hair, yet her face was approachable and warm, bereft of a noble gallantry. It was as if they had another Selene. But her mother's disappearance was still recent, not even a year ago, and the memory of Selene was fresh in Niera's mind. It was difficult for the village because it was unheard of for someone to disappear, but it was even harder for Niera and Murr. Selene had left without so much as a word to Niera. Only her bow was left, and it was never far from Niera's side.


"She wouldn't have let you get hurt. She wouldn't have let the deer run with the arrow in its leg or have let the karath fight to the end of its life." Niera said as she slowed down to a stop and looked at the bloodied cloth on Laryn's arm. Her eyes were wide and marbled with the hint of tears. Their almond complexion turned brighter as they looked deep into Laryn's eyes for a reason to be alright.

"Niera don't do this. You're a great hunter. There's a reason that we didn't all go hungry after she left." Laryn said, hoping to bring her mood up.

"She was so much better than me. Better than I'll ever be." Niera said. It hadn't been long since Laryn had last seen her in this mood. In the first couple months, Niera held out hope that Selene would come back.

'She's just gone on a long hunting trip. It's not uncommon for her to leave for a few days at a time.' But both Niera and Laryn knew that the presence of her bow meant that she was gone. Now, almost a year later, most of the hopes that Niera held that Selene would come back slowly faded as the days without her dragged on and life became slowly regular in her absence.

"Selene would be so proud of you Niera. If she could see you now she..." Laryn said as he was interrupted.

"She what?" Niera said quickly. "She *could* see me now. Why did she leave? Where did she go?" Laryn stood dumbly, not knowing what to say. He didn't know. Nobody knew where she went, or why. Niera's voice dropped to a low sadness. "Do you know what she said to me the day before she left? When we were on our last hunt? She told me that a hunters bow was an extension of themselves. She showed me her bow. *This* bow." Niera said, taking the dark silver bow off of her back. "'This is apart of me' she said. 'It always will be. Until the great sun goes dark and the moons collapse into one. We are one.' And then she left. That was the last thing she said to me. We got home and that next morning she was gone." Niera clutched the bow tight and a tear crept down her round face. "What a lousy excuse for a mother!" Niera cried as she threw the bow far into the forest. A deep look of regret quickly passed over her face as she heard a loud clatter. She took off towards the sound that had already been dampened by the soft foliage. Laryn could only watch, once again trapped alone under the weight of the karath. The tree branches barely had time to part to let Niera through before she was back, holding the bow. "Not even a scratch." She said as she walked towards him, staring at the bow.

"That bow is not replacement for Selene, it's a reminder. She will always be close as long as you have it." He said, trying not to reveal his stain under the heavy animal. "I know it doesn't feel like enough, but that is how you have to remember her. She was a great hunter, and you are as well." At that, Niera looked up at him, her almond eyes veined with a strained saffron sadness. She put the bow around her back and ran towards him, wrapping her arms around him. Her head naturally rested on his chest. He could feel his heart beating against her head.

"I know. It's just... It's hard. I really miss her Laryn." They stood like this for a while. The karath seemed like a small weight to bear as she hugged him tightly. Niera pulled away slowly. "Ok, I think I'm alright." She said as she wiped her eyes with what was left of the arm of her cut up cloak. "Thanks."

Niera climbed underneath her end of the karath and they continued to walk.

"Look on the bright side. If my Mom left, all I would have to remember her by is a rusty old wood saw." Niera let out a small laugh.

"Oh, shut up." She said as she punched him on the shoulder. He caught her smile out of the corner of his eye.

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