Blood of my Brother

Varian and the Great Tree, pt. 4

Okay, it's close to midnight, but still technically Monday, so I call that a success!

Buckle up, my dear readers, because everything's downhill from here.

Trigger warnings: falling from heights, panic attacks, being tied up, hitting, threatening, mentions of previous violent injuries, hurt animals

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"'Kay. So you're running from a bigger, faster opponent."

"Why am I running?"

"Because you're sickly and small and they want to kill you."

"Fair enough."

Hector crossed his arms. "Tell me what you do to get away."

"Run faster?"

"Aaand you're dead."

Varian groaned. This was the seventh time he'd been declared "dead" this morning. "Fine. What's the answer?"

"If you're running from an opponent, find a wall. Your move is this." He ran at the wall of the training room, jumped up, and planted his right foot against the wall, twisting back to kick with his left. "Straight to the abdomen," he coached. "Then you either kill them or run. Try it."

Varian copied the movement. Hector watched him calculatingly. "Watch your posture. Again."

As he repeated the move time and again, he made an effort to mimic Hector's smooth, easy motions. The months of training reminded him that he didn't have to be as good as the warrior yet and it was more important that he perform properly rather than prettily, but he envied the way his uncle seemed to move like lightning, like a cat, like water, depending on the situation.

"Keep practicing," Hector grumbled. "I've got work to do."

"What's wrong? You're moody again."

"I'm fine."

Varian crossed his arms.

Hector rolled his eyes. "I don't like this. She's late."

"The princess?"

"Yeah. Figured she'd be here weeks ago."

Varian shrugged. "Maybe we got lucky and she's not actually coming."

"Hmph. And when do we ever get lucky?"

"Touché."

He shook his head. "She's coming. Don't know when. I'm going out to scout."

"Can I come?" Over the last month and a half, he often went out on scouting trips with Hector and the animals. He was learning the paths travelers took, the natural and manmade traps that protected the Tree, and the local flora and how to use it.

Hector shrugged. "Sure. C'mon."

Of all the things Varian had adjusted to, riding on a rhino was perhaps the strangest. He was familiar with horses, but Kubwa was not a horse, and it had taken a good while to get used to it. He clung tight to the saddle, Hector keeping him steady from behind. They raced out of the Tree, the bearcats by their side and Artemis flying overhead. Ruddiger perched on Varian's shoulders, as usual.

As they traveled, Varian tried to focus less on the beautiful scenery and more on the things Hector had taught him to watch for. Broken branches, tracks, the flight of birds, etc. Anything that might signify someone or something had passed by. Nothing seemed to be amiss. A few times, Hector directed his attention to markings that showed where a deer had passed or a rabbit had grazed.