Dragonieth 1 Hunters Return

"Corin. The sky!" A younger voice gasped beside him.

Corin offered his four-year-younger brother, Darick, a look of rea.s.surance. He coaxed his brother to carry on into the forest they were headed towards.

Today was Darick's coming-of-age fiach. It was hard to believe that the tall lanky man walking ahead was once his pipsqueak little brother. Darick had filled out well with firm muscles, strong arms and legs like a horse. He held the same family attractiveness that lured women with his manly features of a split chin, high cheekbones, round blue eyes and blond hair dangling shabbily about his forehead. His friendly att.i.tude would ensure no shortage of suitor interest. It wouldn't be long before he had a woman to warm his bed like his Hannah.

Along with their father, the three of them had journeyed deep into the Daeg Forrest to pay tribute to the G.o.ddess Khylan.

Every man of the village underwent this tradition when they turned 18 years old. The High Priestess of the Khylan's Sect would bestow a challenge for the initiant to achieve. Success would bless the man with luck for the next years of his life. Failure would be the opposite. Of course, the goal was to succeed.

Darick was bestowed a challenge to hunt a blessed stag; a n.o.ble and fierce creature with swift cunning. To slay a stag by the blessing of Khylan promised grand fortune for the hunter's days to come.
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The hunt was over within a night and a day with Darick's cool logic, grace and aim claiming the blessed stag's life by a turn of the sun.

Corin and their father carried a weight of pride in their hearts for him. They could return home to brag about the good news with a hearty feast and lots of drink.

They returned the stag to the bluestone altar before the High Priestess who bestowed the grand blessing to Darick's forehead with dab of the stag's blood.

The ritual had lasted into the early evening with meditative chanting and the calling upon Gaea Magic through gentle wind and chiming spells. The ritual finished when the blood absorbed into Darick's skin.

They made their way towards the forest's outskirts, which was the heart of night by this time. All three of them were skilled with the way that lead back to home. They walked through a moist rocky valley with ease, using the smell of pine and fish as their markers. Their walk turned into a trekk up-hill where they could spy their first sights of home.

The orange-white fire roaring in distance was not a normal sight. It made Corin's heart skip a beat, Darick gasp and their father, Alroy, stand still and quiet.

"Father," Corin said, the fiery light reflected in his eyes.

"Aye. Make haste sons." Alroy's sober voice prompted the three of them into motion.

They picked up the pace towards the fire.