The Dawn of the Raven Omnibus 1: Episodes 1-5

by J. L. Blackthorne

  As the sun bowed to the other side of the mountains, dusk came quickly and the forest began to dim. Just before darkness took hold, Bob suddenly became very excited.

  “We’re almost there!” he whispered, though even in a whisper his enthusiasm spilled over. “My bear trap is just ahead! I know it, this time I’ll have gotten the bastard. He’s the smartest, toughest, biggest varmint I’ve ever tried to trap. His hide will keep me warm for many a winter. His head will be my proudest trophy, forever to grace my wall. I’ll keep that one for myself, alright! Oh, I can’t wait. His claws alone will fetch a high price in trade! And the meat . . . If I treat it right, I can sell half and what remains will still be enough to feed me and Cretin for weeks!”

  His pace quickened and Kiella noticed a hop in his step as he closed in on the final fifty meters to his trap. But, alas, upon reaching it his high hopes were quickly crushed. The trap was broken and empty, and the meat he had left as bait was long gone.

  “Damn! The bastard got the best of old Bob Bumbelden again!” After this exclamation, Bob carefully examined the trap. “Clever bastard. Not even a drop of blood. I don’t know how it would be possible. I could have sworn . . . Hmmm . . . the trap must have failed, I think. I don’t see how he could have figured it out this time.” After a few moments to ponder and mourn the failed trap, Bob’s spirits suddenly, and without warning, lifted again. “Oh well, just gives me a reason to plan a new, better one. I will get you, you big old bastard! I promise you that!” And with that, Bob chuckled and continued on.

  As the last bit of light left the day, Bob stated that they’d better hurry and find a place to camp.

  “Do The Elken patrol at night?” inquired Kiella.

  “Oh, there’s more to fear than just the Elken here at night, Miss. We’d best get out of these woods and make camp.”

  He led them to a small clearing. He announced it was a favorite campsite of his, and found a small fire ring that he’d used hundreds of time, complete with a spit perfect for roasting the rabbit he’d trapped. Kiella couldn’t fully shake her fear that they might attract the attention of the exiles, or her constant paranoia that they were being watched, but she did her best to try and relax. It was a gorgeous night, and the majestic beauty of the Forbidden Forest had impressed her so much during the day that she was, as much as she could be, in good spirits. Likewise, the fact that Raveena seemed to have stabilized thanks to the herbs Bob had found, and also the fact that Kiella wasn’t alone and had found a travel companion, one who had proven incredibly helpful, also gave her a lift. In no time, the rabbit was cooked and ready, and Bob cut it with a large hunting knife and passed Kiella a very hearty share.

  “Mmmmm! Delicious!” Bob proclaimed heartily. “I’d make a rabbit stew, I know how to make a phenomenal one with the proper ingredients: another recipe passed down through generations of Bumbeldens, but some of the ingredients are rather hard to find. If there’s one thing a Bumbelden can do well, it’s make a good pot of stew. Maybe next time!” He gave her that now familiar, nearly toothless grin with a mouth full of rabbit.

  Kiella smiled back and thanked him for the delicious dinner. The two sat back and relaxed, and enjoyed the beauty of the night sky, and began making a game of seeing who could point out the most constellations.

  “That one there, those stars together, they make Andrastion. You know of him?” asked Bob. When Kiella shook her head, he continued. “Oh, a great one, was he. Greatest of all the hunters. There, over next to him, Grent, the giant bear, the spirit of the forest. Andrastion was the one who trapped him, tamed him, made the woods safe for men.” His eyes grew a little saddened as he thought of his big trap and its failure. “I’m still after my Grent. I’ll catch him yet!”

  “How about that one, there, a bit to the left and down. See that bright one, and the four below it in a square . . . You know that one, don’t you?” asked Kiella.

  “No . . . no, can’t say I do. What is it?”

  “Crowstone, the greatest warrior of my people. And there, next to him, down a bit, those three there, in a triangle, that one is Hydraken, the great beast that finished him.”

  “What? Your greatest warrior was defeated?”

  “Yes. Yes. He did kill the Hydraken, however. When the Hydraken swallowed him, Crowstone carried his great, long, powerful sword with him. The sharpest and the longest blade ever carried in the realm, for he was the strongest of all men. The sword proved too sharp and too long for the beast to pass. It died of indigestion.”

  Bob paused, then laughed heartily. Then, he pointed to another constellation, in the far north.

  “See there, that one? It forms a semi-circle, and then a bright star above it. You know what that is?” Kiella was stumped. Bob became quite enthusiastic. “Oh, surely you do! The Drakken!”

  “Yes, I’ve heard of that” responded Kiella. “I remember stories of it as a child, but I don’t recall the exact details. Who slayed that one?”

  “Slayed it? No one slayed the Drakken! No one ever will!” Bob’s eyes sparkled as he spoke.

  “You mean, it still exists? Yet they made a constellation of it?”

  Bob leaned towards the fire and put his hands on his knees. He was clearly excited to speak of the Drakken. He continued.

  “Oh yes. They probably thought it was gone for good when they did that. Probably thought it was dead.” Bob paused for a moment to pull off another piece of rabbit meat for each of them, then continued. “Oh yes, that’s right, you’re from the east, your people wouldn’t have had to deal with the Drakken for quite some time. If you were from the west, you’d still know it. You’d still know it well. Your friend there, she is Typhorian? I’ve seen her crest. She’d know of it. The Drakken is a great beast that lives in the far northwest, on the very edge of this realm. It awakens and feeds every two hundred years. In between, it lies dormant, like a giant tick, or a bear during the winter. In the forgotten ages, in the distant past, when it would awaken it would lay waste to all, crushing through trees, palaces, anything that lay between it and its prey. It would wander the realm, eating man, woman, child, beast, anything it could find until its huge appetite was quenched. Then, finally, after its great belly was full, it would go crawl back down to its cave, and sleep for another two hundred years, until it was time to eat again.”

  Kiella wasn’t sure whether to believe Bob. Perhaps he was exaggerating, trying to make the story sound more impressive for the campfire? If that’s what he was doing, it was working. The look in his eye as he spoke of it conveyed so much fear and trepidation, it made her fear the Drakken as if she were a child hearing ghost stories all over again.

  “But, you said it’s still alive? So it will be back? Soon? How come I don’t hear more about it?”

  “Well” continued Bob, as the fear began to fade from his eyes “actually, he won’t be back for quite a long time. Not in our lifetimes, at any rate. He shouldn’t be back for at least another hundred years.”

  “So, less than one hundred years ago it went on one of its killing sprees, massacring all who stood in its way?” It seemed crazy to Kiella that she would not have heard more about it if this were the case.

  “Oh no. No, it didn’t. It woke to feed, yes, but there was no massacre. No. That’s probably why you don’t hear much about him anymore on your side of the realm. No, it’s probably been close to a thousand years since the beast did much damage to humans. That’s because, once the elders figured out its eating cycle, they learned to prepare. See, no one can kill the beast, but if all the kingdoms in the west and the north pitch in and prepare a proper feast for it for when it awakens, it just eats and then returns back to its den in peace. For a good long time now that has been the case.” He poked at the fire with a nice long stick to get it back to a nice even blaze. “It takes a large toll on the denizens of that side of the realm. Tons of livestock must be sacrificed, bodies of the dead hoarded and lain out, the forests are over hunted for months in preparation. They’ve learned, of c
ourse, that it’s always better to leave too large a feast for the Drakken than too small of one, but yes, they take it quite seriously. There are elders appointed to each of those kingdoms to keep track of when the beast is likely to awaken next, and to ensure that the preparations are made. So, no, he’s not quite as scary as he used to be, that one. As long as they prepare for him, as long as they’re ready, he’s not much different than a giant pet, just one with a huge appetite who sleeps a lot. Why, it’s really something to see, they say, when he comes up to feed. A pity that neither of us will ever get to. Oh well . . .”

  Kiella was amazed at how fast Bob had gone from promoting the creature as the worst threat imaginable, to acting so wistfully sad that he wouldn’t get to see it in action. She laughed at his story, now glad that she didn’t have to worry about the Drakken, and finding the whole vision of the people of the northwest all gathering to watch the giant beast eat every two hundred years quite humorous. Bob reached into his bag and produced two chalices and a pouch of mead. He poured a glass for himself, and then one for Kiella. At first, Kiella hesitated.

  “Oh please!” scoffed Bob. “You still don’t trust me? At this point, I thought we were like old mates! Old hunting buddies! Practically kin! Come on, it’s not poisoned! Here!” And, just to make sure she was convinced, Bob downed his full cup at once. Then, he refilled it, laughed, and held it up to toast their friendship. “Ah, it’s good fortune that brought us together, my friend! Let us drink to it and enjoy this beautiful night!”

  Kiella finally relented. She tipped her cup to him and then sipped from it. The mead was quite strong, and within moments she began to feel its effects. They laughed and told jokes as the fire spit out sparks that attempted to fly up to the heavens, but always burned up far short of the mark. She wasn’t much of a drinker as it was, so it only took a few cups before she began to grow very drowsy, and her eyes began to cloud.

  Kiella’s dreams were quite strange. Images of battle, huge monsters ravaging the land, and even being mauled by wolves and other creatures of the forest all plagued her sleep. When Kiella finally began to come to, something wasn’t right. She was groggy, so it was hard at first to make sense of it, but she couldn’t seem to move her hands. No. They were stuck behind her back, and no matter how hard she tried, they would not budge. She found she couldn’t move her feet properly either. Slowly, by degrees, her senses started to come back to her, though this took much longer than it seemed like it should have. Was it the mead? This seemed strange even for a hang-over. Finally, she awoke enough to open her eyes and try to gain her bearings. She was still at the campsite, lying on the ground, but she was face down, and her hands were tied behind her back, and her legs were bound at the ankles. She tried to yell for Bob, but she found that she was gagged as well. She looked to the mule, and saw it still tethered, with Raveena still unconscious on the stretcher laid down on the ground behind it. There was no sign of Bob anywhere. Suddenly, she heard several voices approaching. The voices were loud and cocky, with laughter filling the air. Was it the savages? The Elken? Had they killed poor Bob, and now they were coming back for her? She fought as quickly as she could to try and slip out of the bondage, but her efforts were useless.

  Unable to do anything to change her destiny, Kiella laid there squirming and mumbling unintelligibly through her gag as three men wandered into the clearing. They were smiling already as they entered, but their grins widened all the more at the sight of her. They laughed and patted one another on the back. Behind them, Kiella heard a familiar voice joining the chatter. It was Bob Bumbelden, who grinned from ear-to-ear as he showed off the spoils of his most recent hunt to his brethren. He leaned down to Kiella and spoke to her, his huge, almost toothless grin mocking her.

  “Ah pretty! I guess I wasn’t quite as forthcoming as I could have been. I’m not all that alone out here, after all. It’s me, Cretin, and quite a bit of the rest of my kin. There are quite a few of us Bumbeldens, actually. But we do get lonely out here, don’t we boys? We don’t see many fine young things like you in these parts, no we don’t.”

  “Ah yes . . . “ joined in one of the others. “I love the blondies.”

  Another just now took notice of Raveena.

  “And what about her? What’s wrong with this one?”

  “Oh” answered Bob. “That one there is out cold. Has been cut up a bit. But do as you like.”

  “Oh, she’s a looker! I like this one!”

  “Well, help yourselves boys. Fuck them all you like, and, when we tire of them, they’ll make quite the feast!” As Bob said this, he sharpened his knife and smiled again at Kiella, who continued, frantically and fruitlessly, to try and break free of her bonds.

  “Oh, you’d do better to cut off your hands and feet to get free than to try and untie those knots, Sweetheart. If there’s one thing a Bumbelden can do well, it’s tie a good knot.”

  Just then, as Bob laughed and grinned, and the others got ready to have a go at them, the biggest bear that Kiella had ever seen ravaged the side of Bob’s head with a giant swipe of its massive paw. It had burst into the camp so suddenly and so unexpectedly, the other men had no chance to defend themselves. Two others fell immediately to its incredible swings, their flesh torn to shreds by its deep, sharp claws and massive strength. The final man tried to run for it, but the bear chased him down, knocked him down with one blow, and took a giant bite deep into the back of his neck, all but severing his head, which hung from the body by the slightest thread of skin and sinew as the bear then returned back towards the camp. Seeing it approach, Kiella panicked. To have survived the assault from the men, only to be mauled by a bear? She looked over at Raveena, still unconscious, oblivious to all that had transpired. Perhaps it was a blessing. Raveena wouldn’t feel it as the bear chewed her flesh, unlike Kiella, who couldn’t even scream because of the gag, and could do nothing to alter her fate as she still lay there bound.

  But, suddenly the bear turned away. It stopped and looked over Raveena, perhaps sniffing her to see if her meat was fresh enough to still make a good meal. It turned back, then, to look at Kiella one last time but, rather than looking like an animal in a frenzy, Kiella saw in its eyes something that resembled compassion. The beast then turned away, and disappeared back into the trees.

  And then, it was quiet. Kiella looked at Bob there, laid before her. His face forever locked in that mostly toothless grin: what was left of his face, at any rate. Most of it was mangled and covered in blood, with a large portion of his skull caved in from the might of the bear’s blow. The others lay motionless too. Whereas just moments ago they had all been laughing and congratulating one another, now there was nothing. Complete silence. Kiella just stared at them, the ravaged bodies strewn about, not knowing whether her fortunes had truly improved, or if now she was just doomed to a slower, longer, more drawn out death. Would the bear return for her? Would the wolves come? Would the buzzards come down and tear through her flesh with their beaks and pluck her eyes from the sockets? Her bonds were too tight. She could not stand, she could barely move. After a few moments of haplessly trying to fight against her bonds again, Kiella began to give into dark thoughts that she was still as equally doomed as before. Just then, she heard the soft sound of footsteps.

  A figure in a cloak stood before her. Kiella could barely make the figure out as it stood straight in the direction of the rising sun. She could make out that the cloak was green, and that the figure appeared to be a woman, but that was all. Finally, the figure bent down, picked up Bob’s knife, and approached her. Kiella began to panic all over again, but the figure quickly spoke.

  “No, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” The woman’s voice had a strange accent, one Kiella had never heard before, but her voice sounded warm and kind.

  The woman cut Kiella’s bonds from her feet and her hands, and the gag so that finally Kiella could speak. However, for quite a while, she found no words. She watched in stunned silence, with all that had transpired now slowly being pr
ocessed in her mind, forcing an overload of both shock and relief. Kiella had to take this woman at her word that she meant them no harm; Kiella’s psyche, at this point, couldn’t handle anything else.

  The woman walked around, checking the men on the ground, making sure that each one was no longer a threat. Then, when she was satisfied, she moved over to Raveena, and carefully inspected her. She went straight to lifting up the dressing over Raveena’s wound, examining it closely. For a moment, Kiella felt fearful and protective, and wanted to yell out a protest, but she couldn’t. She was still overwhelmed. After another moment, the woman returned and spoke.

  “Your friend, she is dying. She doesn’t have much more time. We must take her to my village. My people, they may be able to heal her, if we hurry.”

  The woman offered Kiella her hand. Kiella paused for a moment, and then relinquished her own. The woman’s soft but sturdy grip felt comforting as she pulled Kiella up and helped her to her feet. As they went about reattaching Raveena’s stretcher to the mule, Kiella’s wits slowly began to return. She thought of the bear.

  “Did you see what happened? Did you see the bear?”

  The woman just ignored her, continuing to go about her business carefully tying the straps and checking the strength of her knots to make sure that the stretcher would hold tight. Kiella continued.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that. Is this its territory? Why would it just kill them and leave me like that? Why didn’t it maul me? Why didn’t it try to feed on any of us?”

  The woman just continued going about her business. As she secured the ropes and prepared the mule, Kiella noticed that the woman’s sleeves were torn to shreds around her forearms. As she looked more carefully, she noticed that the woman’s flesh on her hands and above them was badly torn and scratched.