Blood - age 6
The floorboard felt cold to the touch. Six year old Alexander curled his toes inward, and sat hunched forward on the side of the bed as Gildor bustled around him with breakfast.
"Get some socks on if your cold, there are some in the drawer" She instructed, lifting a small sot-black pot and setting it on the table.
She was brewing some tea over by the lit fireplace that was giving of more light then warmth at this hour. Alexander pulled on the wooly jumper, scratching his irritated throat and staggered over to the drawer.
"Where are we going" he said under a yawn.
"I'll show you in a minute, just get something to eat first, and we will head out."
He hated oatmeal, it was plane, soggy and each day the same, still she insisted on him finish it
"Eat up, it's good for you" She said, putting a canister of herbs on top of the mantelpiece and joining him at the table.
He didn't remember last time he had been up this early, Peltarch was almost completely desolate with barely a single person in sight. It was not quite lit, but not fully dark anymore, it was as if the sun had just began to rise over the roof tiles and left this airy greying light over the quiet city. It was freezing, frost lay as thin icing over the grass tufts and cobblestones, and his breath appeared as white damp from his cold lips.
"Dragon breath"
He would have found it amusing hadn't he been so incredibly sleepy, and frozen to the bone. He held Gildor's hand and followed her obediently as they turned the street corner and staggered past the "Commons". Even the guard who usually stood attentively and erect by the large gate, had a slump curve in their shoulders and seemed to barely acknowledge them as they moved past.
Ahead lay the mountains of Giantspire, stretching as a long spine toward the great glacier, sun lit up the highest top with a golden light, but down where he stood it was still dawning. He had never been further North then the rolling kobold hills, he loved playing along the icelace collecting shells and picking pebbles which he decorated the windowsill at home. But this was not where they were heading, Gildor followed him up a long slope until they could view the whole of the kobold valley. The wind had picked up, and was tugging gently at his jumper, blowing red hair across his face.
There was an old ruin wall ahead where she crouched behind, bringing him down with her. She studied his face for a moment with a look of uncertainty and thought, stroking his chubby cheek before speaking for the first time since leaving their door.
"I have something for you" Her voice was a whisper.
From behind her back she removed a maple-short bow about the same size and length as him and presented it. He stood for a moment admiring it, holding it with a wide eyed expression. One of Gildor's most precious belongings was a bow she had taken from a Goblin king, he knew the tale well and was not allowed to play with it. It leaned against the far wall, and she oiled and tended to it regularly, going on to great details about how to best preserving your weapons. "This is what will grant you a long life" she had explained, and now he had one of his own, though not quite as fancy.
She watched the boys lit up expression with a warm smile, brushing his hair away from his eyes.
"Want to give it a try?"
It wouldn't be the first time he had fired off an arrow, his aim was unsteady, but he managed to hit the target which he was mighty proud off. Still why she had brought him all the way out here puzzled him, and at this hour? Could they not have gone to "Blades and Bows" as they usually did? She slowly rose back at her feet and peeked over the wall, she stood still for a moment before crouching back down with a serious look.
"I want you to listen to me well, do exactly what I say, promise?"
He nodded.
"Rise up slowly, and look over the wall"
He did as she had told him, he crawled up from the wet grass and peered over the rocks. Down in the small valley beneath was a large grassy meadow stretching toward some distant slopes. There was movement, something grey and scaly was standing between the tallish grass, its pointy snout sniffing the air while its red alert eyes scanned its surroundings.
"There is something down there" Alexander said excitedly nearly forgetting himself and pointing.
Gildor grabbed his tunic and pulled him roughly down telling him hysh
"Yes, I know.. it is called Kobold, that is a Runt" She explained him.
She removed an arrow from her quiver and lined it up with his bow. This time she rose with him, oh so carefully they both peeked over the small ruin wall.
"Remember what I taught you?"
She corrected his fingers so that he was pulling the string back with his index and middle finger, while steadily holding the arrow in place with his thumb.
"You don't have to pull it far, just keep it steady, see that? do you see it between the tall grass? Good, now try to aim for it"
Alexander felt his mothers breath as she leaned over him, helping him steady the bow.
"Don't let go before I say so" she whispered hotly in his ear.
He swallowed, the thing was moving, sniffing and searching its territory, he could see a pointed tail wiggle behind it as it reached down to pick something up, before returning to its pacing.
"So very still now" he listened to her words
"You are one with your bow. The wind you can feel, hear, it is your aid, it will carry the arrow. Stretch out with your mind, can you touch the kobold? Can you feel its scales? It is warm to the touch, soft even, can you feel it? The arrow is an extension of you, you know where the arrow will strike, you can see it in your mind, you can reach over and touch the very spot, aim for it's head, yes.. steady now, keep it still, don't have to pull it that far, that's good… still... still... let go.. NOW! FIRE!"
The arrow flew through the air and struck, Alexander shut his eyes but slowly opened them as a pained hissing noise pierced the air.
"You did it!" his mother shouted excitedly taking him by the hand and rushing hastily down the slope.
He followed, still startled and confused by it all, but approached the crying creature. There it was, lying on its back with the arrow pierced in to its left leg. It was alive, but no longer mobile. The Kobold's violent eyes peering desperately up at them, still crying out in pain as if calling for aid. He felt his mothers hand on his back, he was pushed toward it.
"Get your knife out" She instructed
"It still lives"
Alexander looked down upon the Kobold that was breathing heavy, its rusty dagger laying a few feet away and out of its reach.
"Go on, finish it now, before the other hear it crying"
Alexander stood there.
"Kill it.. KILL IT" Gildor growled angrily.
He clutched his knife, looking bewildered from the wounded creature to his mother. It seemed it was more prepared to flee then attack back, and this made him hesitant.
"See it's throat? stab it do it now.."
He felt uncertainty, nervous, he didn't want to strike at the Kobold, it seemed helpless, crying out in pain, its moan growing louder every moment.
"Hurry! Go on kill it now!" she shouted, taking his shoulder roughly and pushed him even closer.
"STAB IT!" Her shout was mixed with anger and a hint of madness.
He didn't know if it was the moment, or the fear that drove him, but with both hands he struck the kobold in the chest, burring the dagger once in to its lungs before leaving it and stumbling back.
It was still crying.
Gildor yanked the bloodstained knife out of its body and handed it back to him.
"Again, it is still alive, now finish it!"
He moved over, and this time stabbed again, then repeated it, and then a final time until the thing grew limp and its cries silenced.
He stood there, blood splattered over his tunic and face, his hand stained red.
"Congratulation my love" Gildor kissed his cheek and hugged him tight.
Alexander just stood there.
"Let us go back and celebrate"
The sun had risen in to the sky, he took his mothers hand and wandered back to the city, the bloodstained knife lay loose in his grip the new bow strapped to his back.
(updating and sticking things in one thread)
