[Complete] Eroh has reached his seventeenth spring and has finally become a man. With manhood comes a gift: marriage to the woman he loves. But when a strange new woman from another world enters his life, he is stuck with the decision to honor his...
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Sleep was for the silent mind, yet I hadn't slept for weeks.
Maybe it was because my manhood hunt was on the morrow. Or because of the tales told of the monsters in the loch. Or because I kept hearing the motto of our people, "live by the loch, die by the loch." that swam around my head. But in my heart I knew the truth: I didn't want to end up like my brother.
The morning sun was an hour from peeking over the eastern horizon. Darkness was a bad time to travel unless you were avoiding capture or on the hunt. Predators and beasts roamed the woods, and the canopy of trees made the forest blacker than the night cats that feasted on small hooflings. But this was the only time I could sneak out without my parents noticing.
I slid from my bear-hide covers, then threw on my hunting hides. I preferred them over my leather vest and skirt. They were two sizes two big. And every time my flesh got sweaty they squeaked like an old board, leaving nasty rashes. I then threw on my leather boots and leathered horn-helm that was now two sizes too small. I'd get my true horns at my manhood ceremony in a few days; no need to ask for a replacement now.
From my wall, I yanked down my bow and a quiver of arrows. The green-winged fletching was pulled from fairies, allowing the arrows to fly like the wind. Father said he'd plucked them himself, yet I never believed him. He was the toughest man I knew, but bugs made him as courageous as a teething hoofling.
I pushed aside the deer hide that draped across our doorway and ascended into the night. Stars flickered above while the moon lit with wonder, lighting my path to the edge of the forest. From my village it took an hour to reach the woodland. By that time, morning sunbeams guided me into the thicket, scaring creatures and critters back into their burrows and holes. From there, I passed the threshold between the sky and canopy of trees, clutching my bow, and drawing an arrow ready to let it fly if I felt threatened.
Sunlight only breached a hundred feet inside the forest before I met a cruel, cold blackness. A melancholy hum came from unseen cicadas, while dreary songbirds sang a twilight tune. For a time it was only the hum and sad song, but the further I ventured the more the forest settled and came to life. I spun to my left where the first branches cracked, then whirled right at a flutter that matched my heart. Light penetrated through the woodtop though failed to reveal what made all the ruckus.
I squinted, gazing into the blackness, unable to see beyond the tip of my arrowhead. Shadows skipped and shuttered. My mind conjured shapes and my ears enriched each sound. I sat still, allowing whatever lay hidden to strike. Nothing. I lowered my arrow and carried deeper into the woods until the twigs snapping under my weight were muffled by a trickle in the distance.
I hurried along. Fallen trees and overgrowth made my track through the woods slower than I would've liked. I leapt over logs, pushed aside branches, and tripped over more roots than I could count. The villagers used to use this trail more often, but it was a warm winter, and a damp, hot spring, allowing the vegetation to grow wild.
