Oracus: The Lavorian Rider

Five - Saviour From The Sky

Choosing a name was difficult, Oracus thought. He must have considered and ultimately rejected a thousand names for the Lion-like creature in the last few hours, and he still couldn't make up his mind.

It was mid-afternoon, and he was in a run-down barn at the far side of his father's farmland, lying on a spilled bale of hay with the cub curled up beside him. He had been in the barn since daybreak, with his sodden clothes slowly drying after he had carried the Lion through the forest in the storm. With Thessley being so small, the barn was the only place Oracus knew that would keep the cub out of sight from the locals – nobody but Oracus and his father had been there in several years. 

Other than a few murmurs, the Lion hadn't stirred from its sleep, but Oracus had struggled to keep his eyes off it. With metal fur protecting its whole body and silver teeth and claws like tiny knives, it was a creature he couldn't help but admire. Watching its chest rise and fall with every sleepy breath, he wondered for hours what it was, and where it might have come from. He had never heard of rocks falling from the sky before, and he had never known of curious beasts being born from rocks either. But what concerned Oracus most of all was that the rock and creature seemed to have fallen for him, either by luck or mistake. And he had no idea what he was supposed to do about it.

But it wasn't just the appearance of the Lion that worried Oracus, he was also unsure how the villagers would react should they discover it. He doubted they would want to do anything other than kill it and discard of it. Anything out of the ordinary was frowned upon in Thessley, much like knowledge of the rest of Pharia, or Elnir's foolish stories. But Oracus felt a strange connection with the creature, and he had no intention of giving it up, no matter how forceful the villagers might be.

Oracus fidgeted anxiously and the cub slowly roused from its repose. It looked up at him with sleepy yellow eyes, then rose to its feet and stretched. After raising its head and sniffing the air, it padded carefully across the barn with its nose pressed against the ground. Within seconds, its alert body had stiffened and it began to prowl towards the corner of the barn with unblinking concentration. Oracus watched in awe as the cub leaped and dived at the floor with astonishing speed, and then trotted triumphantly towards him with a limp mouse in its jaws.

Oracus gasped as a thought suddenly struck him. The Lion had reminded him of a line written in The Beasts of Legend:

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

"Bandor!" Oracus shouted happily. "Your name is Bandor!"

The Lion purred, and then started to tear into the helpless mouse's flesh.

It hadn't occurred to Oracus that Bandor might require food. And now he doubted that the infestation of rodents would keep him sufficiently nourished for more than a couple of days. Oracus would have to travel into the Raspian Forest and hunt. And with an extra mouth to feed than just himself and his father, he would need more than just a few rabbits, he would probably need a deer.

"I'm going to get you some more food," Oracus said, getting up. Bandor looked at him briefly, with blood dripping down his silver chin. "You're not to leave this barn, okay?"

Unsurprisingly, there was no reply, but Oracus somehow knew that the Lion had understood him. He paused for a moment and grimaced as the last of the meat was removed from the mouse's tiny bones, then turned on his heels and left.

Oracus ate and bathed at home before grabbing his bow and arrows for the hunting trip in the forest. The forest seemed more welcoming in the daylight, with birdsong floating through the branches and the scent of flowers rich in the air. But the strange occurrences from the night before still left Oracus feeling wary.