Chapter Four: Hunting Shadows

The morning sun was just peaking over the horizon as John crept along the forest floor. He had decided to aim for a deer today. They were relatively easy to catch, and had a fair amount of tasty meat. Most hunters would check the surroundings for tracks, but John had no need for this. From the time he was young he realized that he had a very powerful sixth sense. His uncle had told him that this was in his blood, and should be trusted. As John walked he would simply go the way that felt right to him.

After an hour of walking John found a buck grazing in a grove. This buck was very large with a giant rack that had over twenty points. John pulled back his arrow, and just as the buck looked up the arrow flew.

It didn’t take John long to clean the deer and dress the meat, since he had quite a bit of experience. John would have normally headed back to camp at this point, but something wasn’t right. John was certain something was wrong from the moment he left camp. This feeling had only grown worse as the day went on. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but John made a decision. After he stored away as much of the meat as he could comfortably carry he hung the rest, and continued further.

John was less than a hundred feet from the mountain as he slowly crept towards the east. He had traveled some distance before he hid himself in the shadow of a tree. As John glanced around he noticed a person walking in the woods. They were tall and thin. The air about them was cold and quite. John had to glance twice to make sure that he actually saw them, their presence was so weak. This person was wearing a cloak, so he couldn’t see their face; but John got a sinister feeling.

John was certain that they were using some kind of magic to hide their presence. If not for his own ability he was certain that this shadow could have walked right past him without drawing the slightest attention. John trusted his instincts, and his instincts told him that this was an enemy. John pulled back his arrow, and just as this person turned his head the arrow flew.

The arrow grazed past the targets head as he moved with incredible speed. The hood was ripped off to reveal a face as dark as midnight, pointy ears, and bone white hair. As John stared into those pitch black eyes he recalled his uncle’s lessons.

“According to legend there once was a group of elves that thought the center of the world was the center of life. They wanted this power, and entered the depths to retrieve it. As they went deeper and deeper the depths changed them. The dark elves came to be. Some say this race is closer to the dwarves. There are even some who say they are not elves, but an offshoot of goblins blessed by a dark God. regardless of their origin they hardly leave the darkest depths. They are masters of the dark arts, the shadows, and death. They speak an ancient tongue that freezes the heart, and kill anyone they come across.”

John didn’t have time to contemplate further. The dark elf pulled out a black dagger as he rushed forward. John pulled back another arrow as he started to move back. The dark elf seemed to sway as he ran, but that didn’t matter to John. If he couldn’t hit this dark elf with the element of surprise then how could he now? Just before John released the arrow he forced some magic from the tip of his fingers to the back of the arrow; forming a certain symbol just below the surface. As John let go the dark elf was less than ten feet away. He sensed the flow of magic, but it was so small he dismissed it. The dark elf shifted to his right, intending to let the arrow pass as he made his final leap, killing this annoying runt.

A bright light exploded in front of the dark elf, burning his eyes. The fiend hissed as he tried to skewer the child in front of him. He heard a clang as he felt his blade hit metal; then a searing pain exploded in his shoulder. A curse escaped the dark elf’s mouth as he jumped back. The words caused John to shiver as he leapt forward in pursuit. The dark elf relied mainly on its hearing and smell in the depths, and was quickly adapting to the searing pain. John knew he didn’t have much time; his opponent was faster and stronger.

The dark elf moved faster and faster as John dodged with less and less room. This opponent was definitely slower than John's uncle, but still much faster than John. John knew time was his enemy, the longer this battle continued the more likely it was that John would make a mistake.

John had trained for years with his uncle. He had even handled a group of bandits once, but this was the first time he had really faced death. John's heart was beating so hard, and every second felt like a day. He had to take a chance if he wanted to live.

Amongst the warriors of the dark elves there was a special group called shadows. They dealt in covert operations, and were well known for killing their opponents silently.

This shadow was amazed. He thought a single strike would end things, but this child had the skills of an expert. No matter how fast he moved the child dodged with minimal effort. The shadow had tried countless combinations and tricks, yet the boys blade always found the most opportune moment to deflect his blows. Shadows were not trained for prolonged or direct combat. A seed of doubt appeared within his heart, but then the boy began to slow down. Cuts started to appear as red blood trickled out. The shadow began to smile. The boy suddenly stumbled. A blade charged towards his heart.

The moment had come. John shifted his body, taking a blade to his shoulder. The dark elf saw the boy move at the last second, and felt the short sword sink into his gut.

Relief washed over John, but then he felt the wind forced out of his lungs. The dark elf had punched him in the gut with enough force to send him flying. John watched as the dark elf pulled out the sword, and spoke some strange words; stopping the blood that had started to pour out.

John watched as his death walked towards him. He didn't have the energy to get back up. The dark elf had a furious look as he brandished the sword. The same sword he had pulled from his own gut. Just as he was about to swing the sword down the dark elf’s face changed to one of fright. He dropped the sword and ran the other way. John was bewildered for a moment before he recognized a familiar presence.

John watched as the dark elf’s head flew off in midstep. A sound of thunder was heard a moment later as John’s uncle looked down on the corpse.