Wife, Mother, Reluctant Hero: Part Three

Hunter rushed through the woods, branches whipping at his face and arms, feet slipping over leaves and rocks. The weather was starting to turn cold, with fall right around the corner, and his breath puffed out as he ran. Behind him he heard another set of steady footsteps.

“Mom! I told you to go back! This could be dangerous!”

He could have sworn he heard her laugh.

“If you think I’m letting my sixteen year old son run into the woods at night alone after what looked like a large magical explosion occurred, you’re out of your mind!”

“You don’t even have shoes!”

“A mother finds a way!”

She was keeping her tone light, but her heart was racing. After their vision had come back from the titanic flash, they could faintly see a column of light pulsing into the sky. Samara had shaken her head, rubbing her eyes and trying to get the spots out of them before seeing the look on her son’s face.

“Hunter? What are you…why are you smiling?”

The way her son’s face looked was one she had never seen before. Eyes wide, a manic grin on his lips, his head facing the column of light which pulsed like a flashing beacon.

“It looks like it’s about two or three miles away…” Hunter said softly.

“No. Absolutely not, Hunter. We are going inside, calling the police, the knights, anyone who knows what…”

“I have an idea. I think I know…”

He was moving before he had fully thought of what he was doing. Hunter had reached the tree line in seconds, and Samara was right on his heels.

“Go home, mom! Call the police! I’ve got this!”

He started moving faster. She picked up her pace.

He thought he had this.

She knew she had him.

It was several grueling minutes later when they began to slow down, the light becoming brighter behind the trees ahead. Hunter leaned against a tree, breathing hard. Samara put her hand on his back, not rubbing or patting, simply being there for him.

“Hunter, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired, but…yeah.”

“Are you ready to tell me why you ran into the woods towards a mysterious light?”

“Are you sure you’re not going to laugh?”

“Do you think either of us have the strength to laugh?”

Hunter let out a brief little huff which would have been a laugh had his lungs been filled with more air. He straightened and looked to his mother, who was equally exhausted.

“I think this is the Hero’s sword. The Blade of the Hero’s Light. It appears in a flash of light, calling to those who could wield it. I feel…I think I can feel it. In my bones. In my soul.”

Samara stared intently at her son for several long moments.

“I have no idea what any of what you said means.”

Hunter sighed deeply, dragging his hands across his face.

“Didn’t you learn about the Heroes in school?!”

“A bit, but honestly I always spaced out during those lessons.”

“Okay, let me be more specific then,” Hunter said slowly. “I think the light is the magic sword which appears after hundreds of years. You’ve seen how nasty people have gotten lately. You watch the news like I do. People killing people, monster attacks, all of it. I think these are signs of the Sickening which precedes the return of Vigon. If the Hero's sword is right there…I could be the next Hero.”

“You…”

She felt the most intense emotion she had in her entire life as her son said those words. It was not, however, pride as she would have anticipated feeling at such a moment. Instead it was a bone deep fear for her son.

“No. No, I don’t want…you can’t…Hunter, I’m nervous enough about you being a knight! You’re only sixteen! You can’t fight monsters or dark lords or…”

“Don’t you believe in me?”

Those words put a dagger in her heart. She didn’t know how to respond. Couldn’t. She often thought, as the years went by, what she would have said then. Maybe the right words would have changed their fates. Instead, they both heard the thumping and grunting from past the trees.

Hunter turned and crept forward, Samara reluctantly following. They stopped behind a large tree, peeking around the edge, and Samara clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming.

A sword did indeed reside in the middle of a clearing. It was as plain as possible, with a deep blue glow emanating from it and a white light blasting into the sky at steady intervals. The sword appeared to have burst from the ground itself, as if it had been waiting for this moment.

The sword was not what had nearly made Samara scream.

Two large creatures, eight feet tall at least, wandered towards it. They had oily black skin and twisted bodies, vaguely humanoid but built wrong, one with three gnashing faces, the other with a club like arm, giant and malformed. It reached for the sword, only for it to lean back in pain as electric bolts blasted towards it.

“Nightmaren,” Hunter whispered.

“What are they doing on the surface?! Near a town?!” Samara said softly.

“I’m betting they’re drawn to the sword like I am. It wants me. They want it.”

“Why would they want it?!”

“Why do you look under the fridge when a bug gets into the house?”

“Technically, I get your father to do it. But I understand. They’re trying to…what, kill the sword?”

“If they break it before someone becomes the new Hero, their lives will be a lot easier. The sword seems to be keeping them at bay for now, but if more come…”

A lifetime of decisions and lessons flashed through Hunter’s eyes.

“I love you, mom. I’ll be right back.”

And then he was gone.

Samara’s mind drifted back to a time when Hunter had been small. Five years old, eating at a park with them and their friends. Rose had been an explorer ever since she had learned how to walk, and somehow she had gotten herself up a tree. Hunter was the one who saw her, who desperately ran to catch her as she fell from the tall branch, his arms out to save the thing most precious to him.

She saw the same thing playing out as he ran for the sword.

The nightmaren had their eyes locked onto him. His hand was reaching out, desperate to grab his destiny. All he could see was the sword. He couldn’t see the third nightmaren emerging from the shadows, its many eyed face twisted with rage. Hunter would never make it in time.

Samara was about to watch her son die.

The blade moved in the dirt.

“No.”

She felt it then. Hunter had been right. It was in her bones. In her soul.

“You will not harm my son!”

The sword jerked out of the ground, floating in the air.

“Yes! Come here! I’ll keep you safe!” Hunter said, reaching out.

It flew through the air, away from the two grasping nightmaren. Hunter held his hand out. His whole life seemed to be building towards this one moment.

Finally, he thought.

Finally, I will matter.

His hand reached out.

The sword flew past it.

Hunter’s eyes went wide, seeing the nightmaren about to bring its clawed hand down upon him.

“O HOLY BLADE, WHOSE FORM HAS NOT YET BEEN CHOSEN! HEAR ME!”

Her voice rang out through the clearing. The sword was held high in her hand, changing, its simple blade becoming a slim and ornate design, its handle unfurling in her grip. The blue light flowed through those designs like a pulse, one tied directly to her.

“LISTEN TO MY WORDS AS I PROTECT WHAT IS MOST PRECIOUS TO ME!”

The nightmaren charged her, completely forgetting about Hunter. His mother stepped forward, her first strike slashing through the air, energy crackling as she lopped the head off the many eyed monster.

“I VOW TO USE THY LIGHT TO BRING PEACE TO THE WORLD, TO DRIVE AWAY THE DARKNESS!”

She spun, slicing the nightmaren with the club arm in half. With a great leap she flew into the air, sword raised in both hands.

“HEAR ITS NAME! I DUB THEE, MUTTERKLINGE!”

Samara landed before the many faced nightmaren. Its body slowly split in two, bisected down the middle. She knelt in the grass, her breaths heaving, unsure of herself.

“I…what…what did I…”

Her gaze went to the sword in her hand, then to her son standing yards away. He was looking between the blade and her face. His face was a war of emotions.

“You saved me.”

“I…yes.”

“With the sword.”

“Yes…”

“Your…your sword.”

“Oh no…”

Hunter dropped to his knees. Samara threw the sword and ran to him, holding him tight.

“I’m not the hero. You are…”

The words left his throat heavily.

She was the hero.

And it broke her heart.