Rage

Hi everyone,

Average Joe here. This was my original idea that got me into writing, I started it in June of 2018. Firstly, it's far from perfect, I know that, and I'm working on it. Secondly, feedback is always appreciated, flick me an email, drop a comment, let me know how I'm doing. Lastly, this is a fantasy, it does contain sex, but there's 53k words before you get to it. If you're still interested at this point, please see point 2.

Cheers

Average Joe

Rage

Nestled in a valley, buried deep within the Golden forest, lay a hovel, made from the Oaks, that give the forest its name. Built of one room, with a shingle roof, the window flaps drawn tight to keep in the heat and light, lives a farmer, his wife and his, now, three children.

Gritting her teeth, Elise moaned into a sodden rag, the taste of her sweat is the only thing she can comprehend as she passes in and out of consciousness, Kross, her husband stooping because of his tall, slender frame, is wiping mucous from the face of his newborn son. Amara runs into the room carrying fresh cleaned rags, the tips of her blonde hair, still tinged red from the gore of a difficult birth. Only Ashlard isn't present, he left shortly after his mother began contractions, the sight of blood makes him violently ill, and his twin sister Amara, gave him leave, that he wouldn't burden his family in such a time.

While he didn't mind being alone in the forest, he worried for his parents, his mother did not have an easy pregnancy, and his father seemed to feel the burden as well. Grabbing a branch and snapping it free, Ashlard quickly stripped the leaves away and using a small knife he always carried, and began carving ornate swirls into the hard wood. This he thought would be his contribution, a beautiful staff, to give to his mother, to help her move about more easily. So he propped himself against the trunk of a tree, and began his work, carving away the wood until the shadows became longer than they were tall, and the fireflies began to dance amongst the wood, satisfied with his work, Ashlard closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the forest. CRACK, he spun around, there was his sister hurrying towards him.

"Ashlard!" she called, "Ashlard, he's here, he's here, come see your little brother!"

"He's here?" Ashlard cried as he ran towards her, "he's okay?"

"Yes, he's fine, mother's feeding him now, come on!"

Elise had finished feeding the baby by the time the twins burst through the entrance, Amara immediately embracing her father, while Ashlard slowly made his way towards his mother. Her eyes were closed, but had a slight smile, while she hummed and gently swayed side to side on the bed, cradling a small bundle.

"Would you like to meet your baby brother?" she said softly, turning to look at him. She shifted to the side and Ashlard sat beside her.

"Here," she whispered handing him the small bundle, "hold him like this." In that moment, the cloth fell away, and he saw a little face, small nose, rosy cheeks and just the thinnest covering of light brown hair.

"He's perfect... My little brother," Ashlard mused, "we're going to have so much fun when you get older." Suddenly stiffening, he remembered, "mother, I have a gift for you, I was in such a hurry, I left it behind, I'll go fetch it for you."

"No no... leave it till tomorrow, just enjoy our little family for the time," Elise said, with a small smile. She always loved his gifts, his carvings were strewn about their home, small birds and even a howling wolf carved from blocks of firewood, in the firelight, they were realistic enough she sometimes thought they could move.

"But-"

"No buts, I'm not going anywhere, it will be fine until morning." Elise said firmly, before kissing his cheek and gently taking the baby from his arms. "Now, what should we name him?"

"How about Darthe?" said Kross, his deep but gentle voice, cast from across the room, "It was my grandfathers name."

"Darthe..." Elise murmured, "what do you think little one?" The baby coughed and Elise thought she saw a flash of a smile on his face. "Darthe it is then," turning to look at her husband with a smile.

"Amara," Kross softly beckoned, "could you stoke the fire and put on some tea, I don't want our new arrival getting cold through the night."

"Yes father... wait, I need more wood I'll be-"

"I'll get some," Ashlard called, he quickly got up and headed on out into the night, it was a good excuse to make a quick detour to grab the staff along the way. He quickly made his way into the woods, following his and Amara's hurried footprints from earlier, he made it to the tree.

"Gotcha" He said, snatching it off the ground before spinning around to make his way back.

CRACK!

The sound was sharp and close, "Amara?!" he called, thinking she may have followed him. The only sound was the slight rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze rolled through. Taking one more quick look he decided to jog back towards home. As he jogged, he could swear he heard footsteps behind him, but every time he turned to look, there was nothing.

"Ashlard!" He grimaced... Turning towards his sister.

"Ashlard what are you yelling about? What are you doing with that? Mum told you... ASHLARD RUN!"

In that moment, a large creature tore out of the forest knocking Ashlard to the ground and pouncing on Amara, a wolf, fur like coal, eyes glowing yellow in the moonlight and with Amara's piercing scream, it bit, snarling into her left shoulder, narrowly missing her neck.

Amara was still screaming as she hit pathetically on it's head. She wasn't strong enough to kick it off. There was blood everywhere and Ashlard couldn't help but stare in horror at the scene, blood always made him ill, so he avoided it, and there is his sister, being torn apart in front of his eyes. Something came over him, he picked himself up, and using the staff as a club, ran over and hit the wolf over the head with all his might. But for all his intentions, the wolf barely flinched, this time he used the butt of the staff to jab it in the eye, that got the wolfs attention.

Dropping his sister, the wolf began pacing towards him, emanating a low growl. His every sense was heightened, he heard every heartbeat like a drum, felt the beads of sweat forming on his scalp, watched the blood dripping from the maw of the beast in front of him and in that moment, he knew he was dead. The wolf pounced, knocking him to the ground, but keeping his grip on the staff, he managed to wedge it between him and the wolf, and pinned it into the beasts mouth.

"Ashlard," Amara called softly, she was bleeding heavily but had managed to roll onto all fours.

The wolf snarled again, displeased at having its meal put up this much of a fight, placed a paw on its prey to pin it down, gripped the staff in it's jaws and shook violently. Ashlard, feeling the immense pressure on his chest, gasped in pain as the wolf ripped the staff from his hands. He was sprayed with his sisters blood, getting in his eyes and mouth, the wolf bent down and with hard fangs gripping his throat, the last thing he remembered while blind and choking, was the burning agony of his shoulder and the sound of his sisters voice laughing while shrieking his name...

Nightmares, such horrible nightmares. Ashlard dreamt of wolves, he dreamt about blood, he dreamt about a town, people screaming, a fire. He dreamt about being stabbed, and chased, flying above the clouds and most of all he dreamt about killing... Men, women, children, his dreams spared nobody, in his dreams, he was a monster, with a singular purpose, to rage against the world, and all those who reside in it.

"Ash."

He woke with a start, sitting up, blind, restrained, in terrible pain, only to have several people grab him and throw him back down onto a soft mattress.

"Ashlard stop," he heard his mothers voice, "please stop, it's okay, everything is okay." He felt tugging on his head and felt a bandage being removed, as his mother came into view, he realised he wasn't blind and restrained, he was bandaged from various wounds across his body.

As he adjusted to the light, he remembered the wolf attack. "Where's Amara? Is she okay," he cried, beginning to tremble.

"I'm okay," said a voice from behind him.

Amara slowly walked into view, her eyes red and puffy, her arm bandaged and in a sling. With a forced smile she looked at her brother. "I'm okay, really... it's you we need to worry about now."

Amara wobbled on the spot, grabbing her father and he gently helped her over to the end of the bed so she could sit down.

"What happened," Ashlard asked, "who saved us?"

Everyone looked uncomfortable. "There's things we've never told you before," said Elise, sitting beside him, "Things that I had hoped would never be important, what do you remember?"

He thought for a moment. "I remember the wolf, it attacked Amara, I hit it with the staff I was going to give you," he looked down.

"Don't worry about the staff," Elise chided, "what else?"

"I remember jabbing it in the eye, it went after me instead," whispering those last words, he felt hot stinging tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I remember thinking I was going to die, I remember it standing on my chest... I remember Amara's voice, she was calling my name while laughing," turning towards his sister, "why were you laughing?"

"Ashlard..." His mother said stroking his hair, "she wasn't laughing-"

"Then who was?!" He cried, "Who was laughing at me while I was-"

"A memory..." Elise said quietly.

"Ashlard, calm down," said his father, "we can explain everything, your mother is-"

"A curse," said Elise, "I'm Demi-human, one of the last, you are too, your sister seams lucky so far."

"What? What are you talking about? Demi-humans don't exist-"

"They were hunted to extinction... To be specific," Kross said, "There used to be so many different kinds... now you're all that's left of ours."

And so it went on, Elise and Kross continued a long explanation of what being Demi-human really meant. How Elise was the last, until she met Kross, binding her heart to his, in order to save her life. Now with three children, they wished to keep it a secret as long as possible, adopting vegetarian diets to avoid consumption of blood, the trigger for the affliction. They described the process of transformation, how he would grow armoured scales, wings, claws, talons and even the ability to breathe fire, how the consumption of blood allowed one to read memories and without learning control he would become a raging beast until he reverted back to being human.

"The dream," Ashlard said, "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

Elise shifted uncomfortably before taking him by the hand, "You weren't to know-"

"I'm a monster! What did I do?!" Ashlard began crying.

"You saved me..." Said Amara, moving up to sit beside her brother. Leaning against him she continued, "the wolf grabbed you by the throat... I couldn't stop it... It shook you, and then you woke up."

Hesitating, she looked at his face for some hidden meaning. "Your eyes were glowing, like embers. I saw a flash and the wolf didn't have front legs, it fell down and you bit it, it whimpered while you drank it's blood... When you got up, you had claws for hands and talons for feet... you walked on all fours... I was so scared... You came up to me, I couldn't move, you sniffed me a little and licked my shoulder," gesturing to her bandaged arm. "That's when I heard dad, he yelled at you, you spun around and leapt at him... Screaming... This awful metallic scream... I've never seen something move that fast..."

"That's when I stepped in," Elise said, "I tried to stop you, we fought... don't worry, you didn't hurt me, my scales are tougher than yours. But I couldn't stop you, only drive you away... It's the rage... It consumes you, you become the beast... You took to flight... You have my wings... And you escaped us... You'd burnt down half a village before I caught up with you... I'll need to teach you to control your power."

"Why" Ashlard said "Why me?"

Elise took him in her arms, "don't worry about that now, just rest."

The next two days were a blur. Elise never left his side, Amara sang when she was in the house to keep him calm, Kross worked the fields, keeping his family fed and little Darthe, he got all the cuddles he could ever want.

"Why does my body hurt?" asked Ashlard.

With a reassuring hand on his arm Elise said, "your bones are hardening, muscles strengthening and nerves sharpening. The process isn't pleasant, but you will be all the stronger for it."

On the morning of the third day he woke with a start, there was an annoying chewing sound, he sat up, only to realise everyone was still asleep.

"Whaaa... What's wrong?" asked Elise, sitting up with a worried expression.

"That noise, someone is in the house, I can hear them eating," he replied.

"The process is just about done then," said Elise with a smile, "you can hear that damn mouse that keep getting into the grain," gesturing to the other side of the house, "lets go for a walk."

Carrying a small bundle of snacks his mother packed, they walked together, deep into the woods, Darthe making soft cooing noises as Elise smiled at him and prodded his nose. Ashlard made a mental note about how smells were more pungent, sounds more sharp, how bright and clear everything seemed to be. They came across a small clearing with a boulder in the centre.

"I come here to meditate," she said, "get up on that rock and sit with your legs crossed."

Ashlard walked towards the rock, but as he hopped onto it, without meaning to, he completely cleared the rock, losing balance and falling flat on the ground behind it. Elise, bursting into laughter could only apologise.

"Sorry Ash, I should have warned you, what you perceive as normal, is now several times stronger than you are expecting, take everything easy and try to be overly gentle, lest you break something or hurt someone without realising."

"Thanks for the heads up," said Ashlard, rolling his eyes.

He gave a couple test hops, finding he put almost no effort into a small hop, realising he could probably jump clean over the average man if he chose. This time he made it onto the rock without trouble. Sitting down and crossing his legs, he felt the rock tremble beneath him, he could make out the tremble as footsteps, but something was telling him it was something four legged, like a rabbit.

"Good," Elise said, "I can see from your face, you can already feel it, the rock amplifies vibrations through the earth. If you sit still enough, you can feel the vibrations of the tree's themselves, blowing in the wind, all of your senses will be heightened like this."

"I feel a rabbit," he said, grinning slightly. "But there's more, this is amazing."

"I use this place to clear my head, with all that's different about our lives compared to that of your father and sister, you may need somewhere to just clear your head... But in the meantime, catch!"

With a start, Ashlard opened his eyes to see a fist sized rock flying towards him, in a split second he reached out towards it and caught it, though there was an audible crack from the impact, he was surprised to realise he barely felt any impact.

"Watch it!" he cried, scowling at his mother.

"C'mon, throw it back," Elise called, taking a few steps back, "trust me."

Remembering his increased strength, he lightly tossed it to her, only for her to immediately throw it straight back at him.

"You can do better than that," she laughed.

"I don't want to hurt you," Ashlard frowned, he'd never been the violent type, and directing this towards his mother...

"Scaredy cat!"

"That's it," he growled.

Ashlard flicked his wrist and threw the stone at his mother, she seemed taken by surprise for a moment, but suddenly whipped around, grabbing the stone with a clawed talon and with a spinning flurry, hurled it back faster than an arrow. Realising he couldn't catch this stone, Ashlard felt power surge within him. Everything slowed down, it was a strange feeling, he could see flecks of dirt blowing off the stone as it tumbled through the air. He could see the cracked ridge running down the centre of the stone, like the spine in the inside of a book. He could see the imperfections and flaws on it's otherwise smooth outside. Ashlard directed this surge of energy towards his right arm and with a second flick of his wrist, his hand sprouted claws, with a bladed edge, which he used to slice the stone into two perfect halves, which passed either side of him. He stood for a moment, then examined his hand as he climbed off the rock.

"What is this?" he said, tears rolling down his cheeks, "What am I?" Feeling his mothers embrace he looked up at her, "what am I?"

That evening it snowed, thick blankets were laid down in a matter of hours. Odd weather for the time of year to have a cold snap. The family huddled down together to keep warm, their thick blankets packed away as the nights began to warm. They were fine so long as they stayed together and Darthe didn't mind the attention. Laughter flowed, stories were told, and after a hot cup of tea, they fell asleep one by one.

Ashlard woke with a start, he thought he heard footsteps, he dismissed it immediately and rolled over. His mother was staring at him with wide eyes... He didn't dream the sound.

Crunch crunch...

There it was again, someone was walking around in the snow outside. Elise slowly got up and placed Darthe in a basket lined with blankets.

"What's wrong," said Kross, groggily rousing himself, "you're letting out the warm air-"

"Shhh, there's someone outside," said Elise.

By this time Amara had woken, she looked worried and pulled the blanket around herself with her good arm. Nobody knows this place, only sporadically had they visited nearby towns and villages, they never stayed, just bought supplies, sold crops and left the same day. Had somebody followed them? Had somebody tracked Ashlard?

Then a sound, Elise knew all to well from her past, the subtle scrape of steel being drawn from a sheath. Reaching under the bed, she grasped a long wooden box and dragged it out, upon opening it, there was a sword, old, dented, but shiny with a fine coat of oil. Picking it up, she handed it to Kross.

"I haven't swung this in years...," he said softly.

"You'll be fine, head out the front, if they'll talk, I'll sneak the kids out the back, if not, I'll be right behind you."

With a quick kiss and a glance towards his three children, Kross marched out the front door and into the snow.

"Come, quickly," Elise said to her children, "out the back, we have to leave."

"What about father?" asked Amara.

"He'll be okay, I'll go back for him."

And with that, Elise and her children crawled out a back window and into the dark. It was dark, there was no moon, barely a breeze and strangely silent. They crept further out, keeping to the cover of trees, trying not to betray their presence, when a large shape formed in front of them. A man, dressed in animal furs, without any distinguishing marks save a thick beard, there were tales of these men, barbaric tribes from the east, they called themselves the Knurlig, and in his hand, was a heavy sword, probably stolen from royal soldiers. He breathed heavily, his breath visible from this distance. He hadn't seen them yet, he was watching the house. The Knurlig chuckled softly and orange light brightened his features, only then, did Ashlard see the tattoos, dark lines running crisscrossed over his face, rumour had it, every line was a kill. Movement, distracted them, dancing flames, their home was burning, then a scream, Elise gasped, clutching her stomach.

"Kross!" she screamed.

"Ha!" said the Knurlig, spotting them at last, he drew a small horn, and blew 3 short powerful blasts, the third cut short as Elise cut his legs out from under him, the Knurlig barely had enough time to moan before she clamped her teeth on his throat, and with a few twitches, he went still.