thevagrantcrusader
patreon
A Man Burned Chapter 1 (Titles In Progress)
🕑 Added 2024-05-14 01:24:47 +0000 UTCOption 1.
The soft sound of chirping birds filtered into his ears from the window, pulling his attention away from his breakfast.
Ulfleif “Wolf” Gray’s life was relatively simple. Like his father, and his father's father, he was a lumberjack. His family had been the founders of the village, and technically owned all the land in and around it, though nobody seemed to respect the claim anymore, at least until the end of the harvest season. Then they all forked over their portion of the land tax and left it up to Morrison to deal with the kingdom’s collector.
Wolf didn't particularly mind. It was just an annoying task he had to do once a year, and he'd never heard his own father complain about it, so he simply got it over with each time.
Gray was his family’s “noble title,” since he was theoretically a baron, but it was more of a joke than anything. Morrison’s grandfather hadn't been able to figure out what to use as their title, but then one of his friends had joked about making himself after the color of his own eyes. Ragrok Gray had taken it seriously.
Luckily or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it, the color had stuck. Wolf’s own eyes were a bit darker than those of the rest of his family, but they were still gray. His sister’s had been more blue, but she’d always seemed to have gotten more of their mother’s genetics than their father’s. She also hadn’t cared much about handling the minutiae of owning land or the hard labor of chopping trees, leaving Wolf as the sole inheritor of the Gray territory.
Pushing his chair back from the table with a screech, Wolf rose to his feet and quickly scrubbed his dishes with some water he’d fetched from the well before starting his morning, leaving them to dry in the rack.
With his breakfast finished, Wolf bent over and gave Trygg a firm pat on the head. The old dog, passed down from his father when he had passed, was all Wolf really had left in the way of company, even if he wasn’t able to come along to gather logs anymore. When the dog died… well, he didn’t really know what he’d do. Maybe he’d finally have to take his friends’ advice and get married?
Wolf was well-liked by the other villagers, and was considered a suitable bachelor by many, but something about men offering their daughters to him left him with a bad taste in his mouth.
There was also the matter of how much he worked, meaning he’d have little time to actually spend fostering a relationship. To some that might not matter much, but to him it was important.
Reaching for his axe and pack, Wolf refocused his thoughts. Trygg was still around, and he had no plans to get hitched quite yet.
The smooth wood of his occupational tool always helped him push away all the thoughts and worries that plagued him when he was off work. Something about forgetting the rest of the world and just swinging was relaxing.
The cool air brushed against his rough skin as he walked through the small town that was inconveniently named “Graywood.”
Ragrok Gray’s friends really had a sick sense of humor.
Smiling and waving at the occasional early-riser, Wolf did a quick scan of Graywood. Nobody seemed to need any help, no houses were burning down, and there weren’t any envoys or soldiers throwing orders around, so he kept moving, meeting the river and following it upstream.
It took nearly an hour to reach the tree he’d marked the previous day, and he inspected it one final time. The tree’s wood was healthy, and it was a strong, thick oak. Unfortunately for the tree, it just happened to be positioned close enough to the river that cutting it down would not only remove a potential hazard, but also prove much easier than handling any of the others in the area.
Usually, Wolf only got to work on relatively small trees, but sometimes he found gems like this one. The small ones were just fine, but titans like the one he’d just felled? Something about it was just satisfying. It felt like he had truly taken down a gargantuan beast from the days of Yore– the days when men had lived in fear.
Then, over a thousand years ago, a single man had come to pull humanity out of the darkness. One man against a horde of monsters both great and small, wise and brutish.
Salyr had won his battle, and the darkness of the world had receded. The Chimarae had been starved out, the Spriggans torched, and the Titans of the Deep beaten back into the darkness, locked away within the darkness from which they’d came.
Most importantly, the Dragons had been driven extinct.
With all of man’s greatest oppressors defeated, nothing could stop them. Wolf didn’t need to fear entering the forests alone for his work– there was nothing waiting in the dark to devour his soul or put his head on a spike.
There were still bears and wolves to worry about, but they weren’t actively malicious beings. They were more scared of him than he was of them.
Lining up his aim carefully, Wolf took a steep diagonally swing at his marked tree, shearing a moderate amount of fiber away from the wood. Another few diagonal swings preceded a series of horizontal swings, fully disconnecting the damaged grains from the bulk of the tree. Another group of diagonal swings began the process of splitting the wood, and horizontal swings came immediately after. Over time, a wedge-shaped gap formed in the tree, and sweat formed across Wolf’s brow.
Eventually, after a couple long hours of work, the first cut had reached deep enough into the tree for him to start work on the second, so he circled around to the other tree, took a moment to breathe, and began chopping once again.
At some point, the sun began to descend from the sky, and still Wolf’s axe swung.
Eventually, a crack echoed throughout the forest, and Wolf’s tree folded like laundry on a line, laying itself perfectly parallel to the river. A bit of maneuvering and rolling later, the log entered the water and swiftly moved downhill.
Following after the felled oak at a leisurely pace, the lumberjack allowed himself to relax.
The birds tweeted above Wolf, the deer pranced through the forest, and the bees buzzed from one flower to another.
Everything was beautiful– his favorite part of his job was always observing the life that existed outside the holdings and creations of men.
His little sister was insane for running away from this, and especially to a city of all places. She’d taken a chance, and it had paid off for her, which was good, but he would still never understand. Why choose such a convoluted life for such a small reward? Sure, she had a greater education, and likely had more possessions than him, but he had a wealth of its own sort.
Ulfleif Gray’s wealth was one of life, freedom, and wonder, and it was greater than any city walls, tutors, and gold could offer him
Wolf was so busy reflecting on his life and situation that he didn’t notice exactly when the birds had gone silent.
His gaze swept around with concern, looking for the source of the oddity, and his eyes locked onto a pillar of smoke rising in the distance.
In the direction of Graywood.
Abandoning any semblance of reverence or caution, Wolf immediately bolted alongside the riverbank, his powerful legs burning with exertion.
One of the village’s greatest concerns was fire. Being surrounded by forest and having many wooden homes in a close proximity to one another, a single fire could spread and burn down a good chunk of the village.
Wolf briefly considered leaping into the river and swimming with the current to try to reach his destination more quickly, but decided against it. While this was certainly a bad situation, getting smashed around by the current wouldn’t help anyone.
Just as he was finally approaching the village and nearly in sight of the source of the smoke, a titanic gout of flame erupted from the sky, accompanied by a loud, incomprehensible roar.
Wolf watched in horror as his village was torched by some unseen monstrosity.
Hiding himself behind a tree, he bravely peeked out from behind it to see what was causing the destruction.
What he saw shook him to his core. It was impossible, majestic, terrifying, and grand. It was the largest and most powerful creature he'd ever seen in his entire life
It was… a dragon.
The beast roared out a challenge to the world, flapping its mighty wings and blowing debris and embers throughout the broken village. Wolf hid his face and did his best not to cough from the inhalation of ash.
The dragon rose into the sky, leaving a trail of wrecked trees in its wake.
