Oracus: The Lavorian Rider

Two - Thessley Village

Oracus sat in the corner of his bedroom with a sword in one hand and a whetstone in the other. It was mid-morning, and bright sunlight shone through the open window and bounced off the sword's silver blade. There was a loud ring with each rub of stone on metal, and the sword would vibrate in Oracus's hand, while the green emerald forged into the hilt appeared to glow brighter with every touch on the blade. The sword had belonged to Oracus's father, but had been passed to Oracus when he first started sword practise with the village trainer a year or so ago. Since then, he had kept the sword pristine; both polishing and sharpening it almost every day.

When Oracus was satisfied with how the sword looked and felt, he placed it on the bed and rose. He stood still for a moment and listened to the gentle hum of bees in the flowers outside his window and the soft creak of his father's rocking chair coming from beyond his bedroom door. Then he turned to face the room and swept his blonde hair out of his face. He was nineteen years old, with green eyes that matched the emerald in the hilt of his sword and skin as smooth as glass. He was tall and slim, but with toned muscles from all his time spent hunting in the forest and hammering at the blacksmith's forge. Today he was wearing his training clothes in readiness for sword practise; a black leather gilet over a white shirt, black shorts, and his lightest pair of leather boots. The air in the village was often hot and dry at this time of year, so he wanted to be as cool and comfortable as possible during what he expected to be a very gruelling morning of training.

Returning to his bed, Oracus grabbed his sword from upon it and pulled the sheet and blanket neatly into place. He propped the sword against the foot of the bed along with a wooden shield and several other swords he had crafted at the blacksmith's workshop, and then moved his birch bow and quiver of arrows away from the sharp blades and leaned them gently in the corner.

Above the bed was an untidy collection of books on a shelf which Oracus read during the long hours at night when he couldn't sleep. He would regularly read by lamplight under the covers of his bed, or scan the drawings on the pages. Some of the books were guides or manuals to help him with sword-making, hunting, farming, and so forth. But his favourites were the myths and fairytales. In particular, The Beasts of Legend, the tallest, thinnest book on the shelf. With his focus upon it, he pulled the book free of the others and eagerly flicked through the pages, of which each one had a drawing of a terrifying creature. But on the very last page, where a beast of legend should have been drawn, there was only a large question-mark and a small block of text.

Oracus smiled and read the words:

The Bandor

There is talk of a creature of such depravity that it strikes fear into the heart of all mankind. The Bandor.

Silent and undetectable, the Bandor only ever reveals itself when its teeth are clamped securely around its victim's throat.

This creature's appearance is unknown; there have been no recorded sightings. Over hundreds of years, thousands of men have died attempting to discover this beast. Its inconceivable deception makes it difficult to find and impossible to capture.

The Bandor is the predator of all predators, so if you are unfortunate enough to encounter it, then may you rest in peace.

With another smile, Oracus closed the book and slotted it neatly back on the shelf. Then he left the bedroom and proceeded to the sitting room, where his father was still rocking in his chair, pipe in hand and blowing rings of smoke towards the ceiling. Oracus was of the same height and build as his father, but his father had dark hair and a beard. His skin was well-worn too, unlike Oracus's, but his eyes were the same dazzling green.

"Morning, son," he uttered calmly between exhales of smoke. "Are you training today?"

"Morning," Oracus replied. "I'll be leaving as soon as I've eaten." He walked through to the kitchen and poured some oats into a bowl. Then he returned to the sitting room and began to eat. "And I'm meeting Garrin at the inn tonight too. We're having a drink together before he leaves tomorrow."