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Challenge # 10: Good Hunting


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#1 IronDragon

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Posted 05 February 2008 - 03:57 PM

This is part of my longer (and unfinished multi section novel ?The Fallen? This piece is part of the pre-history and the early days of the characters, in this case Valygar.




Good Hunting


From my fathers seed, From my mothers womb,
From my families mold, from a broken tomb

If I am the assembled, from the sins of my father,
And if I am created, by the actions of my mother,
If I was brought to being, by a broken machine.
How could I come to be, sane


Twisted and Broken
Abney Park





He thought that killing his father would be difficult.

He was wrong.

Valygar stared down at the unmoving corpse that wore a sick parody of his father?s appearance. Except for the fact that the thing no longer moved, no longer made soft, strangled guttural sounds it looked no different than before Valygar had thrust the blade of his sword through where the things unbeating heart was, he felt no grief or remorse, but neither did he feel relief. The dead thing he had destroyed superficially looked like his father, but there was nothing of the man he loved within its decaying flesh, nothing at all. It was just a shell that magic had animated into a mockery of life, a mockery of his father. Valygar wiped the black blood from his sword blade tossing the fowled cleaning rag onto the zombie?s corpse. He would burn its body later, to ensure the thing was truly destroyed. The nights business here in his childhood home had only just started.

He had returned to Athkatla and his family?s estate only hours before. He was exhausted from his journey from the Dragon Coast but he refused to rest until his task here was complete. The frantic letter from his families head servant detailing the horror that had befallen their home had forced him to leave his detachment in the scouts without permission. He doubted permission would be granted if he had even bothered to ask his commanding officer. How does one explain that one?s mother had finally gone insane and used her magics to animate the corpse of one?s father and having been disappointed in the results had likewise turned herself into an undead monstrosity? There would be hell to pay when he finally returned to his unit, but he would deal with that when the time came.

Now he needed to find what was left of his mother, and kill it. That would not be difficult, the creature deserved to die for what it had done to his father?s body, to his father?s memory.

Valygar knelt and touched his father?s cold mottled face. Unseeing milk white eyes stared back at him, they held no expression, not anger or sadness or even relief, nothing. He wanted to believe that the thing?s misery was at an end, that it was finally at peace. But there really was no expression. Where ever his father was right now, Valygar hoped he was a rest. ?It was a clean kill father, just like you taught me.?

____

It was the summer of his twelfth year and like every year for as long as he could remember he and his father had spent a month in the small cabin in the Umar Hills, hunting, fishing and hiking the endless tails through the hills and forests. For Valygar it was a month away from the stifling responsibilities of his education and his position in society. When he was away from Athkatla he was not the heir to the Corthala name, not a young member of Amnish nobility, he was free to be himself here. In the small village near the cabin, no one called his father ?Lord Corthala? and none of the other boys treated him any differently because of who his parents were. Here, father was not expected to receive guests, or to engage in inane and pointless conversations at dinners or parties. It was a good place to be.

It was this year his father had insisted on leaving their cabin several days early to travel south to Trademeet before returning to Athkatla. Valygar had not been to Trademeet for years, other than an image of the tall spires that the houses of the city were famous for he remembered nothing of his last visit. At Trademeet Valygar followed along with his father to the various commercial stalls and stores of the town?s seemingly endless supply of merchants. They purchased little and he had to wonder just why they had spent the time to come here. The merchants had a wide variety of goods available, but certainly the same things could be had in the Grand Promenade in Athkatla. Still his father inspected the wares of every merchant obviously looking for something. Valygar?s inquiries into what his father sought were answered with a cryptic ?I?ll know it when I see it.?

Finally about midday in a small dusty shop well off the main streets. His father apparently fund the elusive ?it.? He held a small carved wooden and sighed in a satisfied way. With a grin he turned the box around and held it before Vlaygar. The box held a pale flower, it reclined on blue velvet. Valygar thought it odd a fresh, dew-covered flower was to be found in a dust covered box in the back of a musty shop. It took a moment to realize that it was not a flower at all, rather it was a crystal sculpted into the form of a flower. ?Dwarven workman ship. There is none better for such work,? his father announced. ?Your mother will love it.?

His father did not even haggle about the price he just tossed gold at the merchant and left announcing that they could be on the road again within the hour if they put their minds to it.

After passing through the elaborately carved city gates Valygar broached the topic of staying several days in Trademeet or better yet to explore the forests south of that city.

?Are you not eager to see your mother again?? Was his father?s question.

?Yes?sort of.? Was all Valygar could get out.

?You know that, she is always happy to have you home safe once again.?

?Not for very long?? Mother was always happy at their return from their time in the Umar Hills. He knew she would be waiting at the front door for them and tell them how lonely she had been in the weeks they had been away. She would lavish attention of Valygar for a few days, but then the novelty of his presence would wear off and she would once again return to her private study where her books and scrolls waited for her. Within a weeks time she would begin gently rebuffing him and his father and within a month, she would be back to taking most meals in her study and emerging rarely if ever. When she did come down from her study she was either exhausted and uninterested in spending much time with her family or furious about something inexplicable. Valygar dreaded the times she came downstairs angry, such an occasion meant she would become very critical of how Valygar was progressing with his schoolwork or the condition of his clothes or his appearance or some expression he wore.

As if reading his son?s mind Lord Corthala said, ?She is always happy to have you around, she just sometimes, gets involved with her work?that she forgets herself.?

Valygar gave his father a sidelong glance showing he was not entirely convinced his father was being truthful.

?Someday you will better understand why she pushes herself so hard.? His father?s reassurance sounded more like an apology than anything else.

Valygar sighted a deer near the trail and took the opportunity to change the subject. He pointed and with a broad smile notched an arrow in his bow. ?I can hit it from here.? He boasted. Before his father could protest Valygar had his bow out and let an arrow fly, it stuck the deer squarely in the flank. The animal startled and bounded into the scrub out of sight.

?What are you thinking?? His father nudged his horse into a trot stopping near where the deer had bounded into the woods.

His father refused to leave the deer to suffer even though it took hours to track the wounded animal down. When they finally found the creature, it had collapsed from blood loss and was near death. It wheezed and struggled to stand hurting itself worse for it panic.

?Is this what you wanted when you took aim?? His father asked quietly. Valygar would have preferred a harsh scolding to the stern look of disapproval his father was giving him. He remained silent. ?If you are going to hunt something you best be sure not just of your aim but you must also be sure of your reasons for the hunt as well. If you must kill, make sure you have just cause, and make sure you can do it cleanly and swiftly. It is wrong to make something suffer because you are bored.?

Valygar wished very much to be anywhere else at the moment. Even back home listening to his mother carry on about his unacceptable progress in his history studies.

?Well,? his father said handing him a knife. ?Time for you to finish the job.?

Valygar stared at the knife and at the deer. He realized killing something from a distance with an arrow and killing with one?s hands were very different things.


_____


Valygar slipped out of his parent?s bedroom hugging the shadows. He assumed that what was left of his mother would be in her study on the third floor. She spent most of her life up here, why should she be different in death. It had been years since he had climbed those narrow steps, dust and cobwebs encroached on the risers, years ago mother had forbidden the maid from ever entering her study, apparently the hired girl was to afraid to even touch broom to the stairway.

At the closed door of the study, he paused for long minutes listening for any clue as to where in the room the creature would be. He heard nothing save for the pounding of his own heart. Tightening his grip on the katana his father had presented him when he left to join the scouts Valygar shoved the door open and scanned the room. The study was much as he remembered it from his childhood, bookcases overflowing with scrolls and leather bound volumes, a cluttered desk by beneath a small window, papers scattered across the floor. Nothing moved. He cursed silently. Somewhere in the house was his mother?s husk. In life she had been a formidable spell caster, formidable enough that the newly formed cowled wizards had invited her to lead their number. She had declined their invitation claiming her studies must always come first. Her power had likely only increased since then. His best chance was to catch her by surprise and end her existence quickly before she could bring her considerable magical talents to her defense.

From the floor below came a high pitched wail. Valygar realized his chance of surprising his mother had passed.

He returned to his parent?s bedchamber to find the creature he hunted bent over the body of his father, it shook with painful wrenching sobs. For the back, it still looked like his mother. The pale robes she wore this time of year, her dark hair elaborately braided and tied back. He knew that this was not his mother, he knew it was a fetid creation of her own desire for power, yet instead of striking from behind, he still hesitated.

In his moment of hesitation, he must have given his presence away. The creature turned. Superficially it still looked like his mother, the only noticeable difference was that it?s dark ebony skin looked drawn and dry, like paper that had been charred by fire. She looked at his face, then to his sword and then back to his face. ?Why?? It sobbed as it stroked his father?s hair. ?Why did you do this Valygar??

?Why? You steal father?s corpse from the graveyard and make it a puppet, a mockery of life and you have the gall to ask why I destroyed it. You turn your self into?into? and you demand I explain myself.?

?I could have returned him to life. I know I could have. I just needed time to research and prepare.? The creature seemed to be trying to cry but no tears would form.

?He is dead.?

?No!? She screamed clutching the corpse its dead husband. It?s not true?.it?s not. I love him so much.?

?It had to be done.? Was all he could manage. Valygar desperately wanted to hold his mother, to comfort her. Unlike his father, the creature before him was at some level still the woman he loved. ?If it is not by my hand then by the hands of the guards or the priests. I could not stomach the thought of?It had be done. You are dead?you both belong in the grave.?

?You don?t understand.?

Valygar was expecting the creature to attack, not sob and speak of love. ?No, I do not understand. And there is nothing you can say to make me understand.? The creature looked helpless and pathetic, not formidable at all. ?He is dead?.Mother. And so are you.?

?Yes dear, I know.? She looked at the sword pointed at her. Valygar strained to keep his hand from trembling. ?If you had been as focused on your studies as you were on traipsing through the woods you would know that your sword will do nothing except rip my clothing. I am beyond being harmed by something like that.? Valygar tensed expecting a magical attack. The creature stood, she smoothed her robes. His mother?s hand moved to pass against the braids of her hair, ensuring all was in place, a gesture he had seen innumerable times. ?The process I ?engaged in?involved placing my soul into a vessel, freeing my body from such earthly concerns.?

Valygar could not keep his feeling from his expression.

?Do I disgust you that much, my son? Yes, I suppose I do. You never tolerated my calling well. It was a calling based on necessity, when I married into the Corthala family I did so knowing our days are numbered. Your father had no talent to bring to bear to protect us so that burden fell to me. The time I spent in study and mediation was time spent planning to face he who would take you and destroy you. Do not scowl so, you have never appreciated the danger your ancestor poses, the danger is all too real. I pray that Lavok does not return in your lifetime, I have prayed that every day since your birth.?

She walked to the bedside table and picked up a small wooden box. She carried it to Valygar. ?As I said, my soul has been placed in a vessel. To kill?to end my existence, you must destroy that vessel.? Valygar cautiously took the box and flipped the lid open. Inside was the crystal flower his father had purchased years ago in Trademeet.

?Valygar, I understand why you did what you did to your father, and I understand why you must continue on the path you have chosen, and I forgive you.? She reached out a hand to touch his face, but Valygar shied away from her. Pain crossed her face, pain and despair. ?Please, understand, when you truly love someone you care nothing about what happens to you, your only concern is for the one you love.? She looked at the corpse lying on the floor. ?I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did, try to understand, I had my good reasons.?

Valygar?s mother turned and strode back to the body of her husband. She knelt and took it into her arms, smoothing his hair as she did so. ?I am coming my love.? She whispered.

Valygar took the crystal rose from its box and set it on the floor. He paused for a moment, there was so much left to say, but there had been enough suffering this night for both hunter and prey. Valygar brought his boot down on the sculpture and it shattered. Like a marionette with it?s strings cut, his mother?s body jerked to the side and then collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

He thought that killing his mother would be easy.

He was wrong.

#2 DalreïDal

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Posted 06 March 2008 - 08:46 PM

You know, I don't know why I didn't review this right away when I read it first. Anyway it was excellent and is still excellent. Thank you for writing parent-child love, an unfairly unexplored theme in fanfiction... :new_thumbs:
"I set on this journey trying to understand why has metal been stereotyped, dismissed, and condemned. My answer is this: if, listening to that music, you don't get that overwhelming rush of power that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck, you may never will. But you know what, it doesn't really matter. Because, judging from the 40 000 people around me, we're doing just fine without ya." :) Cheers! And two horns up for metalheads all around the world!

#3 Cygnea

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Posted 14 March 2008 - 12:46 PM

Very nice. Great use of theme, unexpected but powerful.

Some of the sentences flow oddly, though. Except for the fact that the thing no longer moved, no longer made soft, strangled guttural sounds it looked no different than before Valygar had thrust the blade of his sword through where the things unbeating heart was, he felt no grief or remorse, but neither did he feel relief looks like it needs to be made into two separate sentences, for example.