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The Shepherd

In the depths of a frigid winter, Oswald, a mere shepherd, fights for survival alongside his pregnant mother in a war-torn world. His life takes a sinister turn with the arrival of a mysterious traveler who claims to carry an urgent message for the royals. An opportunity bearer but at what cost? As night deepens, Oswald uncovers a shocking destiny that goes beyond mere survival. His night wanderings are no mere sleepwalking; they are tied to the dreadful beast that haunts his village. This wolf-like creature prowls the valley, bringing dread as the specter of war looms closer. Blood will flow, loyalties will be tested, and Oswald must face the beast within as he strides the perilous path between humanity and monstrous power.

Mayline · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
259 Chs

Warm reunion

Victor Bendis, one meter and seventy centimetres tall, light brown short hair, thick eyebrows and a three-days old beard full of holes. A man around thirty five years old.

His eyes sunk into his face because of the many kilometres the man had travelled on a horse.

'Uh-oh.' Oswald thought. Dolly was upstairs, he couldn't talk about it without his mother around, he had yet to understand how the illusion worked.

"Is the war over?" He asked to the man that stripped the cellar from all its delicate dried meat.

"Over? Hah!" Victor almost choked on his meal. "Spaniards attacked our camp yesterday, it is possible we've lost territory. If they see a speck of smoke in the valley, they'll certainly come here, we have to move out. Where's your mother?"

"With the herd on the meadow with daisies. She'll be back in a short moment, sun is almost down."

To his own sentence, Oswald's mind ticked. 'I can't stay around him after sunset! Anyone but mother! Father is a complete stranger to this mess. He's always been a complete stranger.'

"A lot happened here, she has a lot to tell you. Why don't you go clean yourself while I bring your clothes?" Oswald said.

In a chest, where he took most of his clothes in the morning, he picked up a set of underpants and comfortable clothes.

The fire lit in the chimney, Oswald stared at it intensely, thinking it would lessen the probability of his eyes turning yellow. 'If there is no lack of light, they shouldn't change to adapt it.' He thought. He lit four lanterns in the living room before sunset and, unsure of his doing, never looked at his father in the eyes. It was quite hard to do because he was now nearly twenty centimeters taller.

Oswald washed his hair and left it falling in front of his head, he was ridiculous but he felt safer. Finally, Meryl came back.

At the same time, because they were hungry, the crows called for her, as they were taught.

Meryl saw her husband in the living room, leaning on the couch with a proud look. The woman instantly changed mood. A baby's cry resounded above their heads.

"Ozzy, did she sleep well? She must be hungry. Victor! You're finally back! I'm so glad to see you! Congratulations, you have a daughter! Ozzy, come on, get rid of this ridiculous hairstyle." She said. Her hands exposed her son's abnormal eyes, but with a wink she whispered. "You're fine."

While the woman fetched the doll, Oswald had the approval of his mother to expose himself freely. 'Can she hide my appearance as well? Can't be sure before trying.'

"Here you go!" Meryl said, giving the doll to Victor who did not shed a tear. "She has your nose, she's cute." He said, holding the so-called baby incorrectly until Meryl took it back.

"Have you seen how tall your son grew up? He became a great hunter while you were away..." She helped Oswald to understand she could convince anyone of seeing what she wanted in her house. All she got as an answer was. "He'd bring more money if he was to fight for his country."

Not a reaction, not a flinch. His mother was the best actor in the world. She knew the presence of Victor was probably due to her son's rampage. She was told how close were the Spanish troops to invade Revel.

"We're fine here dear. It's too high up in the mountains, besides there's nothing at the top of them, they'll deplete their soldier's energy before reaching our place. Speaking of which, doesn't your arrival mean you've deserted?"

"I'm delaying my comeback to the northern camp. That's it. You could thank me for warning you, woman." Victor rebuked.

No one would accuse him of being a deserter, both mother and son knew about the dreadful event that unfolded before the attack. The detail that caught Victor's attention needed an explanation. "Where did you get that belt, kid?" He asked, he was the only one to know what grade was needed to wear such a piece of work.

"Someone in lady Emilia's inn gave it to me, he was drunk. He lost his pride and pant too that day."

They ate lamb in the evening. Victor told them he would depart next morning, once his horse had rested enough.

He fell asleep a few minutes after he finished his meal, still sitting on the dining table. Oswald had plenty of energy to spend, so he ventured outside to hunt and to disarm the wolf traps.

Meryl, who's day had been tiring too, woke up her husband to seep more of his energy.

In total, Oswald found fifteen traps. He wanted to bring more on Adelmo's roof, but the few raindrops that fell on his face stopped him. He did the same as before, turning all of them upside down before activating the maw.

He tracked a deer, after following its path, he found a big one, antlers crowning its head, peacefully eating grass and leaves.

The animal was bigger than Oswald, but it did not stop the boy from rushing at it full speed.

With a brutal whip of his hand, he unplugged the deer's trachea. While the deer was agonizing, walking a few meters away from the predator, it stumbled left and right, Oswald looked at his hand, pointy claws on it, full of blood. They weren't as sharp as the throwing knives.

The strength behind the blow determined how fatal it was. He kept staring at it until he calmed down from the adrenaline rush. He counted.

'I need around three hundred seconds for it to go back to normal. I need to improve my impulsive comportment, else it'll cost me a lot in the future.' Being far from the river's bed, he cleaned his hand with his tongue. Nothing sensational happened. Just a taste that felt amiss into his mouth.

He then cut off the holes his fingers had punctured in the meat to make them look more like a knife injury. For the rest of the night, he dragged the deer through the forest, it was around a hundred kilos.

He directly went to the village, he wanted to avoid Victor and his questions. The rain fell harder with each hour. By the time he reached his destination, the sun rose above the village.