“Let’s keep looking,” the older brother decided as the two were surveying the war-torn inn. “It’s not safe here.”
They went outside and continued to head north. The younger brother looked down at his feet. Blistered and bruised. They had moved too quickly from their last camp so his boots were left at that fountain. Probably not still there though. The Hunter likely took them for a scent.
“We can stop at a market for new shoes, right?” asked the younger. “Yes,” reassured the older, knowing very well they did not have enough coin. The two eventually made their way into a clearing from the pine woods. “We’ll make camp here for tonight. Sun’s falling.” The two put down their sacks. The younger brother surveyed the land. An open field with large boulders. Much safer than an inn, he sarcastically supposed. He guessed it was less suspicious. He pulled a loaf of bread out from his pack and began to eat.
The older brother started on the fire. He went out from the site to gather wood. He couldn’t find much; not enough to cook on at least, but enough to keep warm in the night. He was hoping to ease his brother with a good meal, but that’s impossible in this world. Everything has to be hard. A little out of reach. He pulled out the map from his cloak pocket. Locating approximately where they were, it seemed they were about two days’ walk away from the cave. That gave the older brother a little hope. Maybe there this can all end. One can only assume if this is going to end, it has to end where it started.
When he got back to the camp, the sun was down and his brother was already asleep. Wrapped in his favorite green blanket. The older brother smiled. He worked on the fire. He built what little pieces of wood he had into a canopy formation and circled the structure in stones from around the site to encase the embers. He headed over to where he left his pack. He grabbed the flint stone and unhooked his sword from the pack. He looked at the sheath. It read in the ancient Shadow text, “Drain your own Blood so that it may fill those who need it.” He read it again. Then he unsheathed it. Despite the damage from the first fight with The Hunter and the older brother’s blue blood stains on the handle, the blade still shimmered. He struck the blade with the flint and started the fire. As the fire burned, he stared into the flames, hoping to see anything. But there was nothing.
He went to sleep, sword in hand.
* * *
They both awoke by the sound of crunching pine straw. The fire was only embers now. The older brother looked to his kin with fear. The younger brother sat up still wrapped in his blanket knowing fair well what is about to happen. He’s afraid, but he has been so for so long that only sadness remains. Sadness that this will be their life forever. Running from some man for what appears to be no reason to him. Maybe it would be better if they just stopped running.
The older brother was thinking similarly, but was not going to lie down and take it. Instead of immediately packing up, he scanned the area, eyes peeled for the man. Nothing. He looked over at his brother who had started to pack. The older brother motioned to stop and put his finger to his lips. The younger brother froze. Then, more footsteps.
The older brother located where the sound was coming from, faced it and drew his blade. No more running. The footsteps were slow at first, but then faster and faster and faster until The Hunter burst from the treeline meeting the older brother’s sword with his own blade.
The younger brother screamed. The older brother grunted and The Hunter smiled. He was elderly. Long white hair, white scruffy beard, and muscles unfathomable for his age, all shining incredibly bright. He carried an Uchigatana, splattered with blue blood. It seemed to be as aged as him, but still sharper than any double-edged sword the younger brother had seen. Any fear that was numb before had returned in full force. He had never seen him this close before.
“Will it all end tonight?” The Hunter teased. “Will the final Shadow eternally bask in his sins?”
The older brother swiftly pushed his sword up forcing the hunter to ease his grasp so the brother could escape the hold. The two began circling each other, each searching for the perfect moment to strike.
The younger brother dove into his bag, hoping to find anything to help his brother. The older brother heard this. His eyes darted to the left to see his brother. The Hunter smirked and charged. The brother, noticing with a delay, dodged just in time to not perish but suffered a cut to his arm. The Hunter laughed.
The two regained their footing and continued to circle.
“Little one, do you know who I am?” The Hunter asked.
The younger brother stayed silent.
The Hunter snickered and stared into the older’s eyes. “Does he even know who you are?”
“Leave him out of this. Face me and me alone!”
He charged at The Hunter. He blocked the older brother’s first four swings of the flurry and on the fifth The Hunter dodged and pushed him to the ground. He attempted to punish the older brother’s aggression with a strike to the ground, but the older brother was too quick and rolled out of the way and back to his feet.
The Hunter sheathed his blade, still gripping the handle and circling. His breath began to heavy.
The older brother took a deep breath.
He stopped circling. He planted his feet firmly into the earth. The cut to his arm stung like hellfire and his body ached from not just this fight but the countless other nights of running and scraping by. This was the end, one way or another.
The Hunter took the bait, ran forward, and unsheathed the blade earlier than the older brother had anticipated. The brother’s reaction was too late, the sword was through his heart. The Hunter pulled the Uchigatana from the lifeless body. It collapsed as blue blood sprayed, painting the moonlight and covering The Hunter’s face. He smiled.
The younger brother could not even let out a scream, only silent tears.
His instincts took over. He ran as far as he could wiping the tears from his eyes and kept running despite his feet being torn apart from the brambles and needles. He had to move. Get as far away from that man as possible.
As the sun reached its apex, the brother finally reached the other end of the forest which let out at a beach. His legs collapsed from under him. He passed out.
In his sleep, he dreamed of a fire. He was sitting alongside his brother and a woman and man he knew to be his mother and father within the dream, although he had never seen them in the waking world. They encased the fire, each tending to it when need be. Eventually, the fire began to fade and there was no wood left around them to keep it alive. His father then stood up, put on a dark cloak with silver markings on it, and went out seemingly to get wood. It got darker. Then the mother stood up and did the same with her own similar cloak. It got darker and colder. Then, the older brother turned to the younger brother and said, “The Shadows are dead. You have the power to bring them back to their full force, or allow everything to stay lit by the Sun. It’s up to you.” And he got up, put on the same cloak as his mother and father, and flead into the darkness.
When he woke up, it was still daytime.