“Well, boy. Another day’s work behind us. You may make a fine smith one day!” the bearded man laughed.

Orven was a master smith, as was his father and many generations before. That is how his family earned the name Stonehammer. At least that is how the story went.

The man was tall and heavy-set with thick and defined arms from many years of working in the family smithy. His chest was deep and his beard dipped past the neck of his brown shirt. His eyes were hard and brown, and his hair matched his eyes closely.

Alaric smiled at his father. “I’m sure that soon I’ll out smith you,” the he smirked. Alaric looked much like his father, but his hair had the same fiery red that his mother's had. Alaric was easily as tall and heavily built as his father, but he hadn't yet grown a gut.

The pair sat in the dining room of their home. It was small, but the table was always set for four. Aviah kept the house set as if the family would be eating. The room was fairly bare, except for the intricate white table cloth and some small plates that Aviah kept on display.

The old man’s grin nearly touched his ears. “Maybe so, but I doubt it,” Orven patted his son's shoulder with a heavy hand.

Alaric and his father both knew that he wasn’t truly meant for the forge. Alaric was good with his hammer, but he always had a drive for adventure. Even as a young child, he often got lost in the rolling, green hills outside of Baerlon. They had talked before about other options, but Alaric hadn't yet chosen his path.

Orven looked at Alaric. He was nearly at his 19th year and still not looking for a wife yet. Alaric was strong and handsome but at the same time too often wild and reckless. One day he would make a good husband, but Orven thought that it could be years before he would be ready for it.

Sarai entered the dining room gracefully. She eyed her father and brother careully. Her brown hair was braided as was the tradition for young women in Baerlon. She was of her 14th year, but most thought she was much older. She was a much sought after prize by many of the young men, but Aviah was not likely to approve of anyone in Baerlon. Despite this, Sarai was often in trouble because of her suitors.

Aviah and Sarai were nearly identical except for their hair. Many men would have given their life’s earnings to be with Aviah, but she would not have anyone other than Orven.

“Have you heard the news?” Sarai asked with excitement.

“We’ve been working all day, Sarai. Of course we haven’t heard anything,” Alaric shot at his sister.

She stuck her tongue out and him, and Orven chuckled.

“What is it, little one?” The father said with a gentle smile. Orven treated his two children very differently.

Orven was hard on Alaric more often than not, but Alaric knew that it was meant to make him stronger and a better man. Orven was much more gentle with Sarai. He treated her as if she were fragile. He wanted her to know how a man should treat his wife. Orven showed that even more with Aviah.

She turned to her father with excitement in her eyes. “There are Hunters. They’ve just arrived. They are at the inn,” she replied. She could barely be still because of her excitement.

Orven and Alaric’s eyes widened. Orven stood. He was frowning. “That is strange. We haven’t had Hunters in these parts in years. Have you heard why they’ve come?” he said softly to his daughter.

She shook her head.

Orven looked toward his son. “I think Lady Fate has something in mind for you, boy.”

“What do you mean?” Alaric asked. He was lost. What would Hunters have to do with him? Hunters weren't interested in young blacksmiths. They were interested in hunting creatures from the madlands.

Orven shrugged his shoulders silently as he strode out out into the bright, green world with Sarai. She took his hand in her hands and tried not to skip and the group walked to the tavern.

Monster Hunters or Hunters as they were called were indeed a rare sight in Baerlon. It had been nearly one hundred years since a Hunter visited. Legends held that they were originally nobles or great men chosen by an ancient king to protect the kingdom from the beasts that terrorized his people. They did so successfully, and they recruited more to help in their work. Overtime the dangerous beasts became few in number and many of the hunters returned home. Few hunters remained at the end of that time, but they passed on the art to others.

Everyone in the village believed that they were a thing of the past, except for Orven. He would not say why, but Alaric had always believed him.

The walk to the inn was short. The family walked down their hill into Baerlon. The town was small and the inn close, but the streets were nearly empty. Everyone must have been in the inn already.

Gurder’s Inn The Bear’s Den was nothing to look at, but Baerlon was a small town tucked between the Thorn Mountains and the Rose Lake. The inn was crowded with people from the village. The inn stood at the top of one of the larger hills in the town. Most of the town was built around the inn. The Stonehammer Forge and the Glenn’s Mill where two of the only other buildings in the town that had their own hill. The Turmer’s home was also on a hill, but a Turmer had been at the head of the Council of the Elders for as long as even Orven could remember.

The inn held four long tables lined with benches. The tables were covered in food. It looked as if there was a feast being had. The inn was filled with the smell of cooked meats and steamed vegetables.

The Hunters were a ragtag group. They were nothing like the stuff of legends. There were five of of them in total. The oldest seemed to limp about with a commanding air. He spoke too softly to be such a great soldier. Alaric thought that he had likely not ever even seen many of the beasts that Hunters were supposed to fight.

One was a strange boy with dark skin and even darker hair and a flat nose. He barely spoke, but when he did, it was with a strange accent. Alaric could barely understand the timid boy though.

Two seemed to be a couple. The woman had blonde hair with blue eyes, and the man had red hair with blue eyes. They spoke with a strange, thick accent as well, but Alaric could better understand them. They were thin and muscular. Each of their movements were graceful, almost as if they were dancing with every step.

The fifth was a young woman. Alaric could not stop looking at her. She was tall, fair, and beautiful. She too looked like she was dancing with every step, but she seemed to be warily watching all of those around her.

They all all sat around tables, while the red-haired man told them of some of their adventures. Half of the village sat and stood around

He paid no attention to any of the names but hers. Lilia. Lilia was the beautiful girl. She stayed close to the old man and the couple as much as she could. They said that they were just passing through the town on the way to the capital. They were all dressed finely.

Orven and Sarai excused themselves after watching the hunters for nearly an hour to get home to the dinner that Aviah had made. She would not mind Alaric being late. If everyone was late for dinner, though, there could be bodies to hide. Alaric laughed at the thought. His mother always got her way.

Alaric decided after awhile that it was late enough for him to leave as well. He watched Liliia slip up the stairs quietly, and he wasn't sure that she would be coming down. Alaric slipped toward the door.

Alaric jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Lilia sitting down beside him with a smile on her face. Her eyes were crystal blue.

“You don’t have the looks of anything special,” she said flatly.

He tried to hide the shock at her bluntness. He was disappointed by her reaction.

Lilia chuckled, and he frowned at her in reply.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Lilia stared into his eyes silently for a moment while she thought. “We aren’t here to simply pass through. We’ve come to Baerlon seeking something. Someone, really,” she said in a near whisper. Her soft voice and accent made Alaric uncomfortable. He wanted to hold her and run away all at once.

“Wha- what do you mean?” he asked and then cleared his throat.

“Erika says that you are the one that we are here for. Nathaniel and Tyron agree, and Chas doesn’t care who it is. I'm not convinced though. You have the look of a smith. Am I right?” she replied with something that sounded like boredom.

Alaric squared his shoulders. She was tall for a woman, but he stood a head over the tallest man in the room. “I am a smith. My father and his father for generations have been smiths. A smith I’ll remain too,” he replied with as much confidence as he could muster.

She didn't seem phased by his size or determination. Nothing seemed to affect her. She affected him though. The more strongly she stood, the more he felt weak.

“You plan on becoming a soldier then?” She asked with a change of tone to curiosity.

“How did you kno-“

“You will not truly live as smith. You have a drive for something more. I can see it in your eyes.” She cut him off.

Alaric clenched his jaw and said through his teeth,“Yes, you’re right. I want more than to be just a smith.”

“See was that too hard?” She flashed a smile. This time there was a light, even a joy in her eyes. Alaric realized that she was enjoying pushing him around.

I’ll not be pushed around that easily, he thought to himself.

“Where are you from and how old are you anyway?” He asked impatiently.

She put a finger over her lips to shush him and nodded at the man telling stories. Alaric realized that all of the Hunters were standing in different places in the room staring at them.

One by one each of them waded through the crowd, ignoring eager and drunken questioners. They all sat down together leaving a spot for Alaric and Lilia.

Lilia led Alaric over to their spots. Each of the hunters nodded at him and introduced themselves.

Tyron was the name of the limping old man. The dark-skinned boy was Chas. Nathaniel dismissed himself from storytelling immediately upon introducing himself, and he was followed by his wife Erika.

She seemed at this moment to be the leader of the group. “Lady Fate shines hope upon us today young man. I question though, what does she have interest in one like you?” Erika asked. Alaric felt as if she was nearly singing as she spoke with her smooth and silky voice.

“I don’t know what any of you are talking about. I’m just a smith. Lady Fate has little to do with my kind, but decide when and if I inherit my father’s hammer,” he replied. He realized that his entire body was tense.

“Quite a spirit you have boy,” the old man said in a creaking voice that echoed wisdom,”If I were you though, I would listen to this one. Have you ever heard of a Gift?”

“Like the Gifts of Fate?” Alaric asked. They were something that he hadn't heard of or talked about since he was small.

The old man’s eyebrows raised but he simply nodded in reply.

“I suppose I have heard of some of them. They’re bestowed by Lady Fate. They give the bearer enhanced abilities of some sort or something like that. The only one that I know of to be real is feeling the weather. My ma can do that, but others are just wive’s tales.” Alaric looked the man in the eyes. That's what his gather had always told him to do.

The old man grinned. Erika spoke again in her soft, sweet voice,”I have a Gift, if you can call it that. My Gift tells me that there is something special in you, and that means that you must come with us.”

Lilia grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes. “I can see it too,” she said,”Not like Erika can, but there is something special about you. I'm sure of it.”

Alaric realized that he was blushing, but he thought that for a second he saw something in Lilia’s eyes as well.

Alaric faced the group. “I don’t know what you want with me, but I have responsibilities that I can’t leave here. If you expect to take me from Baerlon, you’ll have to fight my ma and father over it. I wish you luck there.” As he finished, he stood to leave, but Lilia’s hand firmly held him. Her grip was more powerful than that of any girl’s that he new and nearly every man too.

He stared into her eyes for a few seconds. He wanted to stay there staring forever. He wanted to run at the same time. He pulled his eyes and arm away. He knew that she would be able to convince him to go with them on her own easily. Alaric bowed and bid the group farewell. Each of them returned a nod. He walked out of the inn without looking back. It was too dangerous for him to turn back.

It was dark now in Baerlon. Alaric was frowning as he walked. He wanted no part of any gifts. Can I actually leave with them? Lilia had guessed right on all her counts. Orven never planned to let him stay in Baerlon, and Alaric never wanted to. He had planned on joining the army once the recruitment company came to town again.

Why did Lilia have to be with them? he asked himself. Old Gurder and Rolin Turmer had nearly begged Aviah to marry him off to their daughters. Aviah was not from a small town like Orven. She would have no planned marriage. She always went against tradition. It was up to Alaric to find the one he was to marry much to Alaric’s relief. Gurder’s daughter was nearly a cow, and the Turmer girl was sickly and ugly, inside and out. Lilia on the other hand was the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen.

Alaric decided that he needed to talk with his father. The group was strange, but being a Hunter for the crown had to be an adventure. He knew that it would be dangerous, but so would being a soldier. Hunters were legendary. He would rather live a life full of adventure than being bossed around as a soldier if he was honest with himself.

Aviah was waiting at the dinner table for him. She stood as soon as he entered and began filling a plate for him. Aviah was slim but muscular. She worked just as hard as her husband if not harder. She was also considered by most to be the most beautiful woman in Baerlon.

When she finished, she told him to sit firmly. She sat across from him. He could tell that his mother was not excited about whatever was on her mind. She stared intently at her son. “Have you decided to leave with the Hunters yet, Ric?” She asked. Her voice was calm.

“No. I told them that I would rather stay here and work with da,” he replied quietly.

“Your father says that they have come for you,” she frowned. She waited for a moment and then continued,”We have decided that you should go with them. You are too much like your father to stay. He became a smith because he had a child and a wife to care for. You are not bound to this forge like he is.”

A sudden wave of excitement flowed over Alaric. He hadn't thought that his mother would let him go with the Hunters so easily.

Orven stepped through the doorway behind the room and nodding in agreement. He walked slowly over to his wife and laid his large hands on her shoulders. “I left Baerlon for many years when I was your age. I was less behaved than you were of course. Much more reckless. When Aviah became pregnant with you, I decided to take up my hammer again next to my father in the family forge,” Orven smiled at his wife and son.

“You can join the army or you can leave with the Hunters,” Orven said firmly,”But I’ll not have you stay here any longer. You’ll marry the Turmer girl or you’ll leave this week.” A twisted grin crawled across the large man’s bearded face.

Alaric’s face twisted in disgust at the thought of marrying Andra. “How do you know that the Hunter’s want me to leave with them?” Alaric asked quietly. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He knew that his parents wanted him to leave Baerlon but something felt odd about how this was playing out. He had never seen his father or sister speak to

Orven handed Alaric a sheet of parchment. He hadn’t noticed hid father gripping the paper from the time that he entered the room.

He smoothed out the sheet and began reading silently.

To the recipient of the letter,

By the order of the king, the person or persons that receive this letter are to leave with this band of Monster Hunters. It is by ancient decree that these men and women work for and on behalf of the king as his agents in protecting the realm. The recipient has been deemed worthy by this group and is chosen by the king to travel with them unless there are financial obligations binding him or her to a family.

King Arafael

Alaric reread the sheet again silently. He finally looked up at his parents. They were both sitting silently with stern looks.

“You see, boy. The old one, Tyron was his name, gave this to me. We talked for a bit in private. They didn’t say why they had picked you, but disobeying a King’s order is most unwise. You have to go,” Orven said quietly. Alaric knew that what his father said was right. He really didn't have a choice.

“I’ll go with them then,” Alaric said as he tried to hide the excitement in his voice.

Orven nodded and smiled i agreement. Tears began to swell in Aviah’s murky, green eyes.

Alaric rose and clenched his fists with excitement. “Don't worry about me ma. I’ll be fine. One day, there will be stories told of Alaric the Monster Hunter and…”

Suddenly Lilia appeared from the back room where Orven had come from. She was smiling. Alaric’s heart nearly lept out of his chest. "Keep going," she smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Alaric frowned at the beautiful woman.

Lilia's smile grew. “No please continue, Alaric. I want to hear the stories of the great Alaric that will be told across the realm,” She taunted.

Suddenly, Aviah was laughing through her tears. “You remind me of how Orven and I used to act when we were young,” she said taunting as Lilia had. Alaric was unsure what she meant by that, but he thought that it meant that she approved.

Alaric could feel his face turning red as he stared at Lilia.

Lilia cleared her throat,”Pack now. We will be leaving early in the morning. Chas or I will likely fetch you when it is time to leave.” She turned and left briskly. Alaric thought that he could see some pink growing in her cheeks as she left.

“I think you embarrassed them both there, dear,” Orven . “You heard the girl. Go and pack son.”

Alaric nodded. He ate his dinner first. Aviah wouldn't let him walk away from a warm meal. Boiled potatoes and ham. Alaric knew that he would miss her cooking when he left with the Hunters.

Alaric woke to someone shaking him. Through blurry eyes, he saw Lilia standing over him. She was smiling with a cruel kind of satisfaction. “Wake up, lump,” she laughed.

He pushed her away as he sat up. “You’re crazy woman. I’m coming,” he grumbled. He had no idea how early it was, but he could see through his window that it wasn't light yet.

He grabbed the bag that he had packed from the foot of his bed and followed the girl out slowly. His family was waiting for him in the next room. His mother and his father both grabbed him as quickly as they could. They both let go after a few seconds. They hid their faces, but there was enough light from their lantern for Alaric to see their tears.

Orven smiled a large smile. His father was proud to have him leaving to do something more than smithing. They shook hands. Orven was never an emotional man, but Alaric wasn’t too surprised to see the tears.

It all felt like a blur to Alaric. The world flowed by almost as if it were made of water. He followed the girl performing the motions without thought.

The rest of the Hunters waited outside for them in a covered wagon. The heavy rain made it hard to see. “C’mon, quick!” One of them shouted. It sounded like Nathaniel, but it was hard to tell over the roar of the rain who the voice belonged to.

Alaric followed Lilia quickly to the wagon and climbed in. He stared back at his family. They stayed in the house to avoid getting soaked by the rain, but their faces peered out through the doorway.

Alaric thought that he should feel something akin to sadness as the wheels started turning, pulling him away from his family. He knew he would return one day though. He knew he would see each of them again. He hoped that he would return soon.

As they descended the crest of the next hill, his home fell from view. He knew that he could not turn back. He would make his father proud. He felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. He was afraid and excited all at once. It was hard for him to accept that he was actually leaving his home.

Alaric turned toward the group. They were all silently staring at him. Alaric was sure that were waiting for him to say something. “What is everyone looking at?” he asked over the pattering of the rain on the canvas that covered the wagon.

“It’s never easy to leave your family like that,” Erika said with sympathy in her green eyes.

They were all frowning. He realized that they each wore a similar expression. The thought never crossed his mind, but they all too had left families and lives behind to become Monster Hunters.

Alaric shook away his tears and thoughts of home. “It isn’t too hard. I always knew that I would leave someday.”

Erika nodded knowingly but didn’t reply.

“So now what?” Alaric asked with a smile,” we kill monsters?”

Tyron let out a loud, wheezy laugh. Everyone stared at the old man. Once he stopped, he spoke. “You’ll not be fighting much anytime soon, Alaric, at least not if we have a say. We may be Hunters, but you are not. Have you ever even used a weapon?”

“No,” Alaric replied. He had held a few swords before. They were all too small for Alaric’s smith hands. They were each made by his father for a soldier, but he had never lifted a hand against another creature with the intention to kill.

“Well your father had a gift for you. He said you need something to suit your strength,” Tyron said with a wave toward a long piece of cloth draped on the floor of the wagon.

Alaric reached down and tugged on the cloth. It was wrapped around something heavy. He tugged harder to reveal a sword.

His jaw dropped. He had never seen a such a large sword. It was over two hands wide and much longer than any sword that he had ever seen.

“It’s called a great sword. They’re too large and heavy for most men to be able to wield. They are rarely used successfully let alone safely. They’re too slow to be used in actual combat unless you’re a monster of a man,” Tyron explained with a thoughtful frown. He stared intently at the simple blade.

Alaric smiled. “Then a monster I will be.” He ran his fingers along the large blade. There was nothing remarkable about the blade except for its great size. The hilt was made of steel and wood. It was fit perfectly for his hand.