The Forge of Kings (A Man Made of Glass, Book 1)

Part One: The Forge of Kings

^^ Kelt ^^

There was a calm monotony, as well as a gentle thrill, to hunting in the Elderwood Forest. It was Ancient, so much so that the Elders often spoke of the fact that their own generations Elders, and theirs, didn't remember when they had moved their village away from its center and to the edge, where they lived now, trading with travelers searching the forests for treasure or monsters to eat or sell. What they did know, was that some twelve hundred seasons ago their hunters had discovered an ancient city in the exact center of the forest, and found the crypts of their ancestors therein; this was clear proof that they'd once populated the vast expanse of stone and wood, the monolithic city that, -defiant of most thoughts about living in tune with nature,- seemed perfectly symbiotic with the forest. Buildings built around trees, trees grown around buildings, buildings within trees, all were visible in the city, as if the forest itself had become the city, and even three eons or more after its abandonment, (the extent of their written and oral recorded history,) it had not become overgrown in the slightest. Olde Magic, the Natural Gift of the Elven people, had clearly been in play there.

His steps made no sound, as he tracked the large magical stag he'd been following for several days; it had led him to a herd of Magical Roe, and had challenged the previous 'King' of the Herd, a white stag with antlers coated in ice magic that would clearly be a grand challenge, even for a seasoned hunter of Advanced Skill. It had lost, of course, as Magical Beasts did not grow old and weak, but rather they grew stronger with age; the Hunter now tracked even easier than before, following its small blood trail as it found a place to rest and lick its wounds. A nook in the fat roots of a tree offered it solace, and it collapsed in exhaustion in the sanctuary the tree offered, exposing its heart and throat to his arrows.

'A single arrow would kill it, but then it's gorgeous silver pelt would be ruined, and I'd have to gut it here and now... and if I wanted to get out of the Forest with it, I'd have to use the trees...' the Huntsman's mind calculated the risk of approaching and killing it with his hands, twisting its neck and breaking it to end its life without unnecessary pain. Even as Hunters, the Elves valued the lives of everything within their forests, and would not cause undue suffering without reason. In the end, he decided to wait for it to sleep, and kill it swiftly, then take it home; it was easily twenty hands tall, and with its twenty-point silver antlers, it would be a fine catch, perhaps even enough to warrant him a meeting with the Ladies of the Wood, the mystical elven women who advised the Elders and often gave birth to naturally gifted offspring who one-day became people of legendary renown. It was an honor above all else to be allowed their company, and to receive their guidance through fortunes or simple wisdom gained through Eons of experience.

The Silver Stag had appeared massive, even from a distance, but as the hunter approached, he realized he'd misjudged its size by more than half; it was all of forty-eight hands tall, if he was any judge, and clearly somewhere near seven-hundred stones in weight. Far more than he was comfortable hauling through the forest on his own. He could manage with a cart or some such, but even with the Weight-Adjustment enchantment of his cart it would be very difficult. 'Though, this is an even more impressive catch than I thought... I may be able to feed the whole town with this, if it's made into a Stew! Seems a waste of such a delicious slab of ribs, but the Town comes first...' the Huntsman sighed to himself, swiftly grabbing the horns of the stag and twisting violently, killing it before it even woke up with a heave of effort that winded him for several minutes while his mana slowly returned.

The Hunter's Cart, -retrieved from its place strapped to his back in miniaturized pieces and reassembled with a few minutes of work,- groaned under the weight of the massive creature, even with the magic worked into it to lessen the weight, but he forged ahead, using the old Paths that appeared anywhere within the full width and breadth of the Elderwood Forest to return to the Town. The Paths, one of many mysteries of the forest, were actually how the existence of the City in the center of the forest was revealed; it had seemed obvious that they lead somewhere, and if not for their changeling nature and the fact that they refused to lead anyone to the City, it wouldn't have even been a challenge. Still, every time a Hunter looked for a Path, they could find one, while that same Path would not be there the next day. An Outsider would never find a Path, and in fact would become hopelessly lost in the Forest without an elven Guide or Scout. Thus, it had taken a very, very long time to find the center of the Forest, even for some of the best trackers in the world. Two days later, the Huntsman arrived back in the Town, receiving appreciative looks for the massive beast he had returned with, -thankfully preserved magically by the Cart,- and took it directly to the Ladies of the Wood for an offering; they would assure its distribution to the entire Town, though its Horns and Bones would go to his family's smithy for materials, as well as a good haul of other resources as payment for his services.