28. Into The Night

28. Into The Night

Eryndor finished perfecting the last part of his uncle's form to the best of his ability. He knew his form would be poor compared the the original but it was the best he could get since he had no one to tutor him.

There were three factors that would affect the final result of his training.

Number one was the fact that he was using a knife to practice and a kitchen knife at that, the kings would be less sharper and versatile than an actual hunting knife. Also the weight class and reach a knife would greatly throw him off making the training seem pointless. The second fast was that he was poorly build in both physique and stamina, his training was always a drama of coughing, panting and sweating. The third problem still remained his mana, he could barely coat his weapon for long before it would run out.

All these factors Eryndor had taken into consideration but there was nothing he could do about it since he had no access to the real thing. Though his uncle never left his weapon lying around anywhere, there was a time when he left it on the dining table. Eryndor did not need an invitation to examine it. Up close the broad sword was huge, bigger than Eryndor's fill frame, one would even think it was an axe up close.

Eryndor tried to pick it and was surprised, it was like an ant trying to pull a huge boulder. Try as it might it did not budge one bit.

That day Eryndor did not eat and instead hid the food in a small container he had stolen from the kitchen some time earlier. Thalvarin had no knowledge of this since he did not pay the young prince any any attention anymore, he was oblivious to the fact that Eryndor would soon be checking out of his grand dwelling.

Eryndor did nothing the whole day but rest, conserve his energy and visualize his foolproof plan to the best of his ability. It had taken a few weeks and he was filanny confident in his ability to leave the cottage and hunt a mountain wolf. The truth was that he was agitated, if he stayed a day longer without being able to wield magic properly than he would run mad.

When night reached Eryndor did not eat his dinner on time, he waited till it was late. He lacked his winter coats, his earmuffs, and other clothes, as well as the container holding his breakfast, the small knife a water bottle and a few other necessities, all of this went into a small bag he would carry on his back. Since it was from the castle it was without a doubt out of high quality, so it would survive the harsh conditions to an extent. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Eryndor.

He snuck out of his room and met his food on the table, there was a covering over it to prevent flies from touching it. He always found this gesture strange. If Thalvarin did not care about him why would he cover the food?

Eryndor shook his head free od any distracting thought and made his way to the food. It was cold which made him frown, he was still getting used to the cold food as objected to his life of grandeur back at the castle.

"Just take it in, it's only for the time being. Soo you'll be dining like a king." He told himself after a few bites.

Soon he was done and ready to leave, he did not bother about being coded with it. His uncle would be asleep at that time and if he wasn't would he really be concerned? It's not like anyone would be dumb enought to leave a warm cozy cottage and venture into the cold icy mountains teeming with dangerous beasts, only a psychopath would even dare to do that.

Eryndor shook his head violently. "No don't think such thoughts. This is for your win good." He told himself as he reached for the door, his mittens keeping his hands warm. He wondered if his uncle would notice his absence but he shrugged it off with a thought:

"He'll be glass as hell if he finds me dead even." He opened the door to be greeted by the flood of cold wind howling at him, his face nearly froze off from the change in temperature. His fur winter coat instantly complemented this and offered him a layer of warmth. "You've got nobody but yourself Eryndor. That's always been the fact."

With that he left the comforts of his prison and shut the door behind him. Outside was a world of white, if the snow had not been white seeing his surroundings would have been impossible. The moonlight barely touched the world with the clouds covering the night sky, if it had not been for his familiarity with the surrounding he would be having a hard time making out what was which.

Eryndor buckled his knees and marched forward, throwing caution to the wind and venturing into the unknown. He walked a few minutes in the darkness then an hour passed, he had long left the familiar grounds he knew off. With very little light to his surroundings, he would rarely seen a thing till they were within arms length, this disability always put him on his feet. The only comfort he had was the cold wind, how ironic of him to even think that.

The howls of the wind rather creepy as it was was comforting. If there was no wind that was bad. If there was a rustle in the grass, that was bad. If there was a twig snapping, that was bad. If there was a growl, that was bad. If he was attacked in this darkness, that was bad.

Eryndor knew what he needed was leverage, somewhere open and safe enough to run if things wrnt south. Better to try and fail than to die horribly and having your corpse frozen. What Eryndor would do for a light, unfortunately using his magic to light a candle flame was risky if he would need it later on.

As Eryndor was beginning to feel relaxed the absolute worst case scenario occured. His legs struggled to move through the icy but he was not in a hurry, taking it slow was best for him, no need to attract something he could not handle. All he needed was to meet a lone wolf and kill it.

No all wolves traveled in packs right?

There was a rustling of leaves a couple feet ahead of him and it was not loud, Eryndor froze and chose to wait a bit. Then there was the sound of a twig snapping, Eryndor's breath got stuck on his throat, his legs were frozen in place. The final thing that announced his fear was the loud growling in the woods, he did not need any confirmation. He was being hunted, the hunter was now the hunted.

The only words that slipped out of Eryndor's lips were, "Damn this cursed attribute."