The Zero Hour | #Wattys2016

Chapter 3 - Wolves?! (Part 1)

Amadeus started to feel quite faint. He had spent his entire life in the safety of the commoner camp. Being next to White Harrow, the surrounding area was free from intruders as battle-wizards patrolled the area day and night as sentry guards. Also, there were sustained spells cast around White Harrow to keep out unwanted intruders.

Amadeus had once seen a wolf try to pilfer some chickens from one of the farms in the commoner camp of White Harrow. He triggered the protective magic cast on the camp and was instantly skinned, gutted and his bones magically transformed into a wind chime and hung on a pole as a decorative ornament – which also worked wonders to scare off other wolves who might venture to steal the farm's chickens.

Now, the danger of being in the middle of the wilderness on a dark night had started to dawn upon him. Storm clouds hovered above him in the sky, threatening to shower down rain drops at any moment. There was no longer a protective barrier separating him from the wolves and who-knows-what-else that was lurking in the wilderness.

I wonder what a wolf looks like, Amadeus pondered. I've only just heard about these strange creatures in stories. What did Madam Marcella say again? Oh yes, wolves are ferocious and hungry; usually hunting in packs. Using the darkness of the night, they would stalk their prey silently in a group. Following it silently, until finally when they are confident it is cornered...

Amadeus gulped. They pounce and ravage their prey from all sides.

Looking around, Amadeus noticed the scattering of numerous pairs of what seemed to resemble glowing animal eyes amidst the darkness surrounding him. Okay, I'm starting to feel very self-conscious about being in this precarious position. At any moment now, I could be engulfed by a pack of wolves and torn to shreds.

He tried to shake the image from his mind. Proceeding with caution, he trekked on through the snow one step a time. I wish I had brought some kind of weapon to defend myself with. On second thought, maybe it would be better if I was back in my warm bed. I can't decide which is better.

He stooped low and used his hands to scan the surrounding area. Blindly, he moved his hands across the bed of snow which covered the hard ground of the wilderness, searching for something to defend himself with. His fingers felt numb under the icy snow.

He continued at it for a moment until his hand brushed across something that felt blunt and hard. He ran his fingers against the blunt object. It felt rather rough, oddly similar to the bark of a tree branch, and he was certain he was indeed touching a tree branch. It did not matter, whatever it was, it would have to do. He picked it out of the snow and gave it a few practice swings, preparing to use it like an improvised club to keep the wolves at bay.

This could work, he thought excitedly. With renewed confidence in his makeshift club, he continued down the path, leaving a set of footprints in the snow. He made his way towards an open field which was not covered by the shadow of any tree.

A good place to get my bearings, he thought as he kneeled upon the snow. Amadeus unfurled the crinkled edges of his map, and patiently waited in the darkness. The moment he awaited soon came, and a strong gust of wind blew, causing the storm clouds to move from their places. This briefly allowed the moon to emit a dim light until the next cluster of clouds crossed the moon's path again. As the moonlight shone through the cloudy sky, the silvery light revealed the inscriptions upon his tattered map. I have to hurry, he told himself while scanning the map frantically, trying to figure out where he was and where he needed to go.

He lifted up his eyes from the map, and looking straight ahead, he could make out the peak of the North Mountain, the tallest mountain in all of the Continent of Ash - the continent of which White Harrow lay. Travelers in those days frequently used the North Mountain as a marker, for it could be seen from all edges of the Continent of Ash. Orientating himself, he tried to find White Harrow on the map.

After finding the marker for White Harrow, he realized that he would need to travel south of White Harrow to reach his destination. Tracing the path he would need to take with his finger, he passed the markings on the map for the Lost Valley, the Crystal Plains, and finally the Jagged Peaks. Looking ahead of him, he decided that he could follow the path on his right towards the Lost Valley. He had heard countless stories of the Lost Valley - mostly stories that did not end well for those who ventured into it. Finally, he was about to see it with his own eyes.

Rolling up the map, he placed it carefully into his bag and held his club tightly in his hand. Looking around to make sure he was not being followed, he followed the path on his right towards the East. As he walked, he did some calculations and estimated that he could reach the Lost Valley by tomorrow morning if he travelled all night and only stopped for short rests along the way. While doing the calculations in his head, he jogged steadily along the eastern path.

After a short while, he started to feel fatigued, and began to pant as he trudged on, forcing one foot in front of the other. The minor injuries he had sustained while fighting Waldo the day before were beginning to take a toll on him. Nevertheless, Amadeus stumbled forward in the dark. If I just keep going on, I should be able to reach the Lost Valley by daybreak.

In the shadows of the surrounding trees, several more pairs of glowing eyes emerged, observing Amadeus from a distance. This can't be good, thought Amadeus, pushing himself to keep moving. As he walked on, it got increasingly difficult to breathe. Pausing for a brief moment, Amadeus leaned forward with his hands on his knees. No one else to blame but myself for the bad shape I'm in, he thought as he panted to catch his breath. For all the years of servitude to White Harrow, I always avoided manual labour. Look where that's gotten me now.

The wolves, seeing that their prey was starting to weaken, prepared to launch their attack. They had already successfully surrounded him from all sides and were circling stealthily, closing in slowly on him. Having not eaten for days, they were extremely hungry.

The Alpha licked his lips and directed his pack by using his head movements. His pack members who were highly trained saw his gestures and executed his instructions flawlessly and promptly. The wolf pack could see every gesture and movement clearly although it was nearly pitch black, because wolves can see in the dark. However, poor Amadeus could not see in the dark. He was oblivious to the fact that he was on the menu tonight for Café Ala' Wolf.

His sense of safety vanished in an instant as the Alpha howled loudly, which was a clear instruction for his pack to attack. Amadeus could not speak wolf, but he knew exactly what it meant and he froze in fear.