Killian's Last Light

         The glow from the moon remains the only light. Cutting through leaves and branches. Getting
stopped by trees, casting long angular shadows of a forest that lay like stripes on the ground. A man lay
unconscious on the cold stone floor, bare from the torso up. He lay unchanged. A blade wound is
apparent on his left shoulder, skin still open, blood trickling down pooling where it coagulates on the
forest floor.
         The man starts to come-to. In a daze he tries to sit up and ends up bracing himself against his
elbow. Looking up he notices another man looming over him. His assailant is a tall man clad in leather armor.
Buckles going this way and that way across his body holding the armor tight to his thin frame. A green
cloak tied around him like a scarf and dangling behind over his left shoulder. He's cleaning a dagger that
seems to be missing the tip.
         “Good, you’re alive.” The leather clad man said.
         Attempting to sit up one more time he succeeds, “Who are you?”
         “I am Thirktar. Hunter of Beasts and Breaker of Curses.”, the leather-bound man responds still
polishing clean the broken dagger. “I’ve been hunting you for quite some time now. I'm happy I didn’t
have to kill you.”
         “Ah…I’m Killian but I suspect you already know that.” The bare-chested man said. The pain from
his wound starting to thump in rhythm with his heartbeat. Blood still trickling out like a viscous cascade.
As Killian inspects his surroundings he looks up and the full moon beams down on him dilating his eyes.
His heart races in panic, the stream of blood rhythmically pumps out faster. He scatters, kicking himself
backwards trying to get to his feet. “You shouldn’t be here. You are in danger get away!” He screamed
still scuttling to his feet.
         Thirktar steps down off a stone protruding from the forest floor and calmly approaches while
sheathing his blade. It catches a twinkle of moonlight before being thrust into the darkness of an ornate
sheathe made of what looks like some sort of horn or bone. “You have nothing to worry about. Take a
look. Bathe in it if you like. Your worries are behind you friend.” He says while still taking relaxed strides
toward the panicked and disheveled Killian.
         Killian stops for a beat and searches his surroundings. He feels himself up as if searching for
something in his pockets. His eyes widen, astonished, “What is happening to me? Why am I not
changing?”
         “Your curse is cured, so to speak. Now I still would like to suture that wound up if you don’t
mind. You are losing quite a lot of blood at this point.” Killian says while reaching into a utility pouch
attached to the belt spanning around his waist.

         The sun shoots rays over the mountain side into the heavy morning mist, the light outline of the
moon still hanging somberly in the sky. Killian and Thirktar sit around a campfire that crackles and pops
sending small embers upwards towards the heavens.
         Killian sits with his feet towards the fire draped in Thirktar's green cloak to keep warm, “How did you
find me?” He says glancing across the fire to Thirktar.
         “Easy really. I followed the rumors and that led me to your village, which I have to say is quite
nice. I had then confronted your wife for your whereabouts and to confirm the truth of the rumors. She
had such a grave tone in her voice that I knew that her words held merit. From your home I tracked you like any wolf.”
Thirktar paused for a moment, reluctant to embellish further. Although a hunter, he carried an accent in his voice that
almost pointed to nobility.
         Hundreds of thoughts battered Killian as he started to try and recreate the events of last night.
He could tell there was more to the story. Piecing together what he was told so far, which were mostly
pleasant things, he could only surmise that Thirktar had left out something bad. The pause went silent.
Even the sound of the campfire crackle had faded into oblivion and Killian looked up with funereal eyes.
“Who did I hurt?”
         “Let me take you back home. Your wife needs to see you. She is going to need your help.”
Thirktar said while maintaining stiff eye contact.
         “What do you mean my wife will need my help? What about my son?” Killian’s eyes started to
well as panic once again set in. His watery eyes locked on Thirktar’s.
         “I am sorry. He must’ve gone out looking for you and in your altered form you had no control.”
Thirktar said, voice lowering in a drab direction. “Now you need to understand something. I did everything I
could to spare you. The boy was already gone by the time I had found him. With your curse now
squelched you can get back to normalcy. You can get back to your wife.”
         Killian sat slumped over holding his head. Tears rolling to the tip of his nose and dropping one at
a time to the earth between his feet, “How can things go back to normal? My wife knows what
I have done. She won’t accept me. Things can never go back. Oh god, what have I done?”
         Thirktar stood from his makeshift stool made from a round of wood and approached Killian. He
laid his hand on his shoulder and gripped firmly. He wasn’t sure why, but pressure always seemed to
sooth others in time of peril.
         Killian felt the warmth of his hand. It did little to help but it was the most Thirktar could do. Why
was he helping? What is in it for him?
         Sobbing and in between deep breaths Killian began to speak, “I don’t understand. You said you
cured me. How? Why do I not change in the light of the full moon?”
         “You have silver embedded in your shoulder. I stitched it in, and it will remain there for the rest
of your life. Should it be removed, you will turn back to Lycan.” Thirktar paused. “I can’t have you
turning back because I would be forced to kill you.”
         At this point Killian welcomed death and didn’t see point in moving on but was still some how
comforted by the hunters attempt to spare him.
         “I must admit. I got lucky. My silver blade snapped off in your shoulder, but it turned you back, so
I took advantage of it. I always hunt with the intent to kill but under the circumstances I made an
exception.” Thirktar continued as his voice grew sterner. He didn’t like having to kill his subjects that
mostly were in the position they were in because of happenstance or dumb luck. No one goes out of
their way looking for a horrible curse like lycanthropy but when afflicted, like a rabid dog, they must be
put down. The hunt wasn’t sport for Thirktar but a job. Something that must be done.
         Killian reached up to the stitches on his shoulder. Just the touch from the tip of his fingers shot a
bolt of pain through his body that made him wince. He contemplated for a while and Thirktar released
his grip stepping backwards towards the edge of the woods, dry leaves crunching under his feet.
         “What now?” Killian said.
         “You restart your life, Killian. Now I would find it upsetting should you end your own life, and I
am sorry about your child. I know its hard to live with, but these circumstances don’t happen often. As
someone who hunts for a living, I can tell you this is a rare opportunity. Seize it and help your wife
through the troubling time as well. You know she will need you just as much as you need her.” Thirktar
said while back pedaling to the tree line.
         “Where will you go?” Killian asked. You could hear the concern of the unknown as the words
shivered out of him.
         “Off to continue the hunt, good sir” Thirktar said with a devilish smile peeking through the
overgrown hairs of a once trimmed goatee. “Don’t take these words to offense but these beasts need to
be stopped.”
         Killian couldn’t help but feel slightly offended knowing that he was once a beast himself. He
jumped up off his stool to his feet, “Let me join you. Teach me. I can’t let this affliction hurt anyone
else.” He said. You could tell by the astonishment in his eyes that he surprised even himself with the
words that escaped his mouth.
         Thirktar stood for a moment eyeing the man. Bulky muscular frame, he was in good health.
Thirktar knew from the previous scuffle with him that Killian didn’t know how to fight but that can only
be remedied with experience and a guiding hand. “What of your wife?” Thirktar asked.
         “For all she knows, I am dead. I prefer it to be that way. Then she can continue life in peace
knowing the beast who killed her boy has been killed.”
         Thirktar knew the man was right. Killian’s wife, no matter how strong the love, would never
forgive the beast that murdered her boy.
         “It will be difficult, but I know you’ve gone through the transformation. Nothing could top that.
You have a strong soul. I could tell that from your beast form.” Thirktar said adjusting the strap on his
chest holding on a leather pauldron.
         “Please, I’ve nothing else.” Killian pleaded.
         “Alright. I will show you our ways. First, we need to give your shoulder time to heal. With the
blade imbedded it could affect your range of motion.” Thirktar continued, “Come with me friend. We
have a long road to your recovery.” He said raising his arm welcoming Killian to travel along.
         They both walked together side by side into the trees. Killian with a newfound target for his
vengeance. The beast within may lay dormant but there were many others out there that he could
already envision himself exterminating. With each one felled it would be in honor and memory of his
son. The boy the beast had killed.