Origins of Hunter

Hunter Leemonex... Few werewolves in Endasia have a strange past. Most werewolves grow up in their pack, survive with their pack, and die in their pack. There are also werewolves such as Hunter, who only wish they had such a simple life. Hunter Leemonex is reminded of this past every day. What event could occur that would cause such distress in his life?

This is the story of Hunter Leemonex.
The story of the werewolf that was a part of the 'event' that seemingly killed his whole family.


10. Long Time, No See

I grab some necessities from around my room and place them on my desk; a blanket, a thin piece of metal for cooking, my water bottle, and a few other odds and ends.

Now for my first problem: How do I plan on taking these supplies with me? A bag would be the obvious choice, but any sort of bag is rather inconvenient for me. Bags or backpacks aren't made for distance running. Maybe something like a hiking backpack would work, but when I morph into a wolf, the hiking backpack stays the same size. So then usually something like a satchel would work perfect, but a satchel couldn't hold what I want to bring. I heave a sigh.

Someone knocks at my door. That's slightly odd, most of the time a werewolf in this pack would just enter a room. It's just not disrespectful to do so.

I walk over to the door and peer through the sliver in my wooden door, trying to find some identification. I just see a lot of dark blue.

I open the door. Standing at my doorstep is a familiar wizard. Pierre stands at my doorstep, looking widely restless. He bursts into the room.

“We are running out of time,” he says. “No, no, no…”

“I beg your pardon?” I respond. We are running out of time? Time until what?

“I made a mistake,” he says with bewildered eyes. “Your parents are not in Elf Haven, Elf Haven is where the next part of your journey begins. Your parents are… They are in the Fog.” In all of the days I have lived, I have never heard that term. ‘Fog…’ perhaps it is hidden in a Dwarven mine?

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you are talking about. Where is the Fog?”

“It’s everywhere, it's nowhere… It is very difficult to explain,” Pierre says. Why does he seem so frantic? “Perhaps I can put it this way… Our land, Endasia, is flat, completely flat. Even I don't know how this works since the Suns seem to orbit a circular object, but here is the point: we are surrounded by what we call Fog. Just outside of our known map exists this mist. It is so bewildering, but when people go in, they never come out. This is why civilizations that border the Fog use it as the worst type of banishment. It was assumed people who entered the Fog were killed, somehow or by something. I don't know what, but something dark and evil exists in there. Your parents are in this ‘Fog.’”

I'm silent. How have I never heard of this… Fog, before? I feel like it would be a big deal, since it supposedly surrounds us.

“Listen carefully Hunter, this is important. You must go to Elf Haven, as you planned before. But this time you will be searching for a dragon. A dragon is the only creature in Endasia that can smell your parent’s existence, and see what is occurring beyond the mist. Find the ‘Headless Boar Bar.’ There, you will find someone who will take you to find this egg. Then, the next part of your story begins. Do you understand?”

I nod slowly. I understand, but I don't get it at the same time. I know what I have to do, but I kinda sounds like some sort of joke. And the dragon part? I knew they used to exist, for the great heroes in our history, but I also thought some of those stories were only myths.

“A dragon?” I ask, not sure of exactly what I am asking.

“A dragon egg, rather,” Pierre corrects. He runs to my small window, looking at where the sun usually sets. The suns set a long time ago. “Remember on my pamphlet you used to find my location? Do you remember the hero on the list?”

“Umm…” I think for a moment, and then remember I placed the card back where I got it, next to my door frame. I find the card and read: “Come one, come all… Deordish. You predicted the future of Deordish.”

“Incorrect,” Pierre says. “Deordish doesn't exist. I mean seriously, what kind of lousy name is ‘Deordish.’ His actual name is Darin. I assume you have heard of him?” Have I heard of him? Everyone knows Darin! He was an elvish dragon tamer, he led armies into battle. There were many myths about him, but nobody could argue he saved the elvish race at one point… its a long story.

“I thought Darin made the dragons extinct,” I say, raking my mind for what I remember on Darin. “Wasn't it that one battle against those sea creatures?”

“Well, he lost many dragons, but dragons still exist. Few, actually. I believe the number is seven dragons in all of Endasia. Thus, dragon eggs are rare. But you will find a way, I am sure of it.” He looks out the small window again, and then back to me. “Quick, take this.” Pierre shoves a small package in my possession. “You need to hurry.” He stresses the ‘need.’


“Your pack is in trouble! Stop questioning everything I say for once and actually act upon what I am saying! You mustn't die, the fate of our world…” He pauses. “You can't die here, you can't die tonight. Listen to my words. Dragon egg, Headless Boar Bar, the person you are meeting. By the way, even the person you are meeting doesn’t know they will be meeting you. Run, Hunter. Run.”

Pierre opens the door in a fury and storms out as if he has just had an awful day. What was that about?

I look at the ‘package’ in my possession. So, Pierre made a mistake on what he told me? If he made one mistake, what are the chances that he made more? Why do I feel like if that was all false information, this could be too?

The questions continue popping up in my head. You know, Pierre is right. I have been questioning everything lately, and I know it is because I have trust issues. But I should do what Pierre suggests. I don't know why, but I have a feeling I need to go look for a dragon egg. I mean really, who doesn't want a dragon egg? Plus, the sense of urgency in Pierre’s voice only encourages me to do something, anything. Something bad is going to happen to me here. I need to hurry.

I place the hastily wrapped package on my bed. It's very thin, but about two-three feet long. I open it.

Inside, I find a few surprisingly valuable possessions. I instantly identify the enchanted arrows. Any bow hunter knows what they are. These arrows are enchanted with an element by a wizard. For example, one arrow is glowing blue. Chances are, it is either water or ice related. The red one is probably fire related. Upon impact, these arrows explode with whatever it was enchanted with. So when the fire arrow lands, it will instantly combust, and when the water arrow gets shot, maybe it will explode with water. That is the thing about enchanted arrows, there is always an element of surprise that come with them.

They don't always explode, but they are intensely magical. I know I see wind, water, lightning, and probably fire, but the rest are a mystery to me. These arrows are generally extremely expensive, and from the looks of it, there are at least ten of them. I could sell these for a fortune.

Tied in a small bundle sits yet another small package. Inside is a knife and, surprise, yet another set of arrows. However, the arrowheads and knife blade is throbbing a white-blue aura, as if lightning itself existed inside. I wonder what these are for?

Beside the knife package sits a bracelet. I remember this piece of jewelry. Isabelle made it for me back when I lived at her civilization. It's no more than a few colorful threads, but it holds a lot of memories. Why would Pierre add this? More importantly, how did he get it?

Lastly, I find a stone. This stone is also pulsing with energy, it is flamed with all sorts of colors. It is incredibly cold to the touch, as if mere contact could freeze my fingers.

I look at all of these new supplies, and then to my new one. How can I carry all of this? I begin moving the supplies on my bed to my desk, and I find something else.

Holding all of the new items in Pierre’s package together is a green/brown camouflage cloak. This cloak has many pockets, complete with a hood and straps for small items. Oddly, I remember this cloak as well. This is the cloak I used at training camp, many many years ago.

I shiver. That camp still gives me nightmares.

I put on the cloak, which is tight against my body like it was so many years ago. I don't question how that could be since I have grown so much in the past eight years, but the tightness is perfect. For the most part, the tighter the cloak the better, so it interferes less with your body motions.

Across my waist are many ways I can hold things; a strap for my water bottle, a satchel which will work great for holding my blanket and pulsing stone thing, and a knife holster, which will of course hold my new knife. It only the metal sheet I can’t find a place for, but that hopefully won't be that big of a deal.

Am I ready? I pull the hood over the back of my head. It feels great, I feel like it keeps me protected somehow. I scan my desk and my bed, and it looks like I have everything.

Let my adventure commence.

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