The Mountain Child

[Tales Of  The Mountain child”  Story 1]

  The wings of the night buffeted clouds of loose snow high into the air, throwing it forth on frozen winds. Small villages of log cabins lie covered in ice and snow, their inhabitants hiding huddled around a fire.

  Amongst the desert, a single man trudged through waist deep snow, his plaited hazel hair frozen rigid and shining like the sleek snow reflecting moonlight. His dark eyes scanned a featureless landscape and his tongue flicked through a snow-flecked beard. 

  He moved like a beast, his powerful legs surged through snowdrifts and his body remained wrapped in a fur cloak. He was cold, but not as much as any normal man would have been. He had been raised in the mountains; he would spend months sleeping in the snow with nothing but animal skin between his own tender flesh and raging blizzards.

  He was Kordan, the mountain child. In the local area, he was praised as a heroic mercenary, strong and fearless as long as the pay was right. For decades he had fought everything from petty thieves to great serpents.

  His calloused fingers ran over a small sack on his belt, he could feel the edges of the gold coins pushing outwards. Nothing felt better than a bulging purse. For this amount of coin, he knew the task would be big. The village below had spent two years living in fear of a great beast in the mountain caves. The creature came every night to feast on the villagers, picking them off one by one for its evening meal.

  It was a Yeti, he knew that much once he set foot in its cave and saw its yellow eyes burning bright in the cold darkness of its cave. It stood high and lurched towards him, groaning to itself in curiosity. The white furry mass of muscle suddenly lashed out at him.

  Kordan dived to one side, pulling off the cloak as he did so. The cave fell silent, its damp icy walls an audience to the two beasts now face to face. The man’s flesh was mangled and scarred, a mural telling tales of years of combat.

  The yeti roared and Kordan roared louder, drawing a broadsword in his right hand a spiked club in his left. They flew at each other, slamming their muscled bodies into the other and striking with the intent to kill as quickly as possible.

  A hunger for flesh swam in the eyes of the beast, and a hunger for money in the man’s. The great monster’s claws ripped a huge chunk from the man’s side, causing him to hunch over in pain. The Yeti followed up with a powerful uppercut, sending Kordan flying through the air and smashing against the wall of the cave, causing icicles to smash to the floor in a piercing clatter.

  The Yeti lumbered towards him, its own fur matted with blood. It did not react in time, it did not see the flash of silver as the mountain child leapt from the floor and drove his sword cleanly through its torso. He pushed the handle and spun the Yeti around. He then breathed deeply and gripped the emerging tip of the sword, sticking out of the exit wound.

  With an already bleeding hand he pulled the tip of the blade. The yeti wailed in pain and Kordan’s hand bled as he pulled the sword’s handle through the wound and out the other side.

  The great beast tried to turn but slipped on its own blood and fell to its knees.

“Me and you” he said in a growling voice “ we are both animals”

  He struck the yeti with his club, knocking it half unconscious.

“We live on the bare essentials…surviving however we can. We feed off the suffering of others, we thrive in turmoil,” He said, grabbing the fur atop it’s head and exposing its neck.

  He looked deep into its yellow eyes and slid his sword into its neck, seeing himself reflected in their glossy hate.

“ And a cornered monster will fight with infinite strength”

  He decapitated the creature and carried its head outside the cave. Once again, he wrapped himself in the cloak and began his descent down the steep mountain towards the sleepy village, free of its fear. It was time to collect the second half of his payment.

  The cold winds froze the pain in his wounds, it was a familiar salve. The villagers would take the head, and give him his purse, but hold no celebration. Like the Yeti, he was a monster…and with the right payment he would turn on them. The people were wary of Kordan.

  Tomorrow he would return to the hills, wandering in search of fear and pain…for the two held an economy dear to him.




2 Responses

  1. No, i have no bloody idea why the last two lines wanted to be huge…i tried to fix it with no luck

  2. Wow…this is very cool. and your language, Michael, it’s HOT!

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