The following is one of my ezines and perhaps a future novel, Endless Dawn. I will post further issues as I go along. If you want to find where you left off easily, just press Ctrl+f and type the word "issue" without the quotes, then just 'find next' until you get to wherever you left off. Happy reading. s.k.

Endless Dawn

Issue #1

There was no way to tell how many cycles had passed. The High Folk hunting party was deep into the canopy, well below any clear view of the sky. The only light that filtered down to them flickered and wavered as thousands of wind blown leaves shifted positions above their heads.

There were eight in all, led by Andor, a future prince of Endrosia. They were tall and lean, each with sharp features and bright eyes, and they walked along the thick branch with practiced ease and innate balance. None seemed overly concerned that one misstep could plunge them a thousand feet or more to the forest floor far below.

Andor led them in silence, signaling them with a series of quick and subtle hand motions to stay close and to keep alert. He clutched his wooden spear tightly, the only outward sign of his internal tension. This was his first hunting expedition and although he had been considered mature for the past three hundred cycles of the two suns, Solna and Helion, this would be the true test for him. Success in the hunt would give credence to his royalty, and would mark him as a prince to be followed and respected.

He signaled his hunters to stop, bending down to examine the rough bark beneath their bare feet. Andor noted the almost imperceptible scratch marks in the bark, indicating that their quarry might be near at hand. Trusting in his allies’ awareness, he bent down and put his slightly pointed ear against the limb. The hunters all knew that silence was key, and Andor was able to discern the subtle scuttling of the wraith-spiders, arachnids that lived exclusively on the bottom of the branches, and were the primary food source of the arocs; the High Folk’s quarry.

Andor nodded to his companions and they spaced themselves out in the center of the branch with just over a spear’s length between each. Andor had been successful in his first mission, finding the aroc hunting ground, but now came the next phase; waiting for the arocs to appear.

* * *

The High Folk hunters were not alone in the lower canopy. Clinging comfortably to a smaller branch above and slightly south of them was a lone figure who watched the warriors with a mix of curiosity and humor. Vemala Tra’nel was small in comparison, barely topping half of their six foot height, and her ebony skin provided her excellent camouflage on the forest floor where her people, the Dun Kel, held sway. Although to them she might appear as a feral child, she was in fact a deadly and capable warrior.

Her lips curled up in a smile, revealing her sharp white teeth, as she observed the hunters who thought themselves so stealthy. As quiet as they tried to be, she could clearly hear each foot-fall and her keen vision made them as clear to her as she would be to them in the upper canopy. She waited and watched as they sat about patiently, amazed that even their breathing seemed loud to her ears from such a distance.

At length she heard the distant rustle of wings, and she knew the arocs were coming. The High Folk hunt would be successful, for the stupid birds were fearless and would defend their food source without caution. She nearly laughed aloud at the thought that the High Folk would likely congratulate themselves on their stealth for the success of the hunt. She watched carefully as the first of the large avians appeared, then two more, the trio swooping in toward the position of the hunters with all speed.

* * *

Andor and his companions took up their spears as the trio of arocs flew toward their position, screeching loudly at the intruders. Andor, as leader of the hunt and hoping to make a favorable impression, stepped to the fore and set the butt of his spear firmly against his instep, bracing as the first of the arocs fast approached.

The birds, each with a wingspan of more than twice his height, were known to be aggressive, but not overly dangerous. Their beaks appeared to be inverted, curving upward to aid them as they hunted wraith-spiders, plucking the arachnids from beneath the branches in mid flight. They were large birds, and the three combined would provide ample meat for the High Folk to warrant a successful hunt.

Faster than he expected, the first aroc was on Andor, slamming into him and nearly tearing the spear from his grasp. He rolled backward, taking the raging aroc into the tumble with him, impaled as it was through its left wing. He scrambled back to his feet and could hear the other two arocs battling his companions. He realized even as he yanked his spear free that he would find no aid against the avian.

Andor charged in as the wounded aroc struggled to right itself, burgundy and black feathers drifting down around it as it flapped its pierced wing futilely. He thrust the spear in, aiming for the bird’s barrel-sized torso, growling as the hardened wood tip stuck against its ribcage. He pressed forward, pumping his legs as he impaled the bird and leaning all his weight into his spear.

The desperate aroc caught a claw hold in the bark and pushed off, trying to get airborne and away from its attacker, but with one wing limp at its side and its lung pierced, there was no power in its escape attempt. The giant bird merely toppled off the curved edge of the branch, dragging Andor, who struggled to hang onto his kill, over the edge with it.

The remaining High Folk hunters finished their own battles, each successful, just in time to witness their leader and prince sliding off into the darkness below. They did not even have time to issue a cry to him before he was gone from their sight.