Chapter 3. Memories.

  Clayton couldn’t remember his mother very well. He knew she loved him, and he couldn't have been the reason she left. The thing he could recall most about his mother was that she had long black curly hair, and a kind face.

  He had few faint memories with her. They would play make-believe fairy-tale games. His favorite was when he would be a noble knight, saving his mother acting as a princess from a dreaded dragon played by his father. Clayton remembered how his father used to pick him up and place him on his shoulders as if he were flying on a dragon.

  Things were different then. Clayton could dream and play freely. His mother encouraged his passion and imagination. She gave so much praise, saying that one day a church would call upon him, giving him the Crusaders blessing and rite of passage. How one of the Seven would dub him a holy warrior. That was before she left, and this was how it had been for many, many seasons on end.

  "Clean up, it’s getting late.” Sid said, watching as the men exchanged pinecones with laughter before making his slow shuffle back to the forge.

  Clayton slowly sat upright, sitting for a moment allowing his vision to straighten. His ears rang loudly, and that metallic taste and smell of iron overwhelmed his senses. Clayton’s father had hit him for as long as he could remember, but as the two grew older, Sid became increasingly abusive and short tempered with Clayton.

  "Mother would tell me—" Clayton tried again.

  A large wooden wheel and a horse hit the ground just that far behind him. The horse hit with a hard dull thud. The wooden wheel smashed into the ground sending pieces ricocheting. In a beat of confusion. Time stopped before the trade cart and its driver came crashing down. The cart exploded on impact, throwing the game and driver, rag dolling with lifelessness.

  Clayton curled on his knees covering his head. Unraveling just enough to glance up at his father. He then twisting around to see the wide dilating eyes of a lifeless horse.

  "Clayton! Get up!" Sid demanded firmly, waving Clayton over, while shuffling around his anvil and workbench. Sid scanned the tree line as he made his way around the bench.

  Scurrying to his feet Clayton quickly stood with his father, watching the clear cut, the woman tending her garden, and the men trading pinecones had also seized what they were doing, and watched in confusion.

  "Isaac!" Another woman screamed, running out from a crude and early developing home.

  Two men came running from within the distant thicket. Each waving their arms frantically. Both tripping over their own feet, screaming, trying to give warning. Behind them the tree tops rippled. Whatever it was that was chasing them wasn't far behind and it was also making its way for the clearing.

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  Some trees went flat, while a nasty looking beast came into sight. It stood upright and tall. The thing let out a hair-raising howl, before throwing a large boulder. Hitting one of those fleeing men.

  The rock hit with such force too, causing the man's upper torso to explode. The rock continued through the air. Ripping through one of the poorly built homes, and then colliding into the foundry, behind Sid and Clayton.

  Hot coals, and molten metals exploded, forcing Sid and Clayton to collapse for cover. The workbench slowly caught fire due to a puddle of slag that splashed over.

  The entire settlement was frozen in fear, not knowing what the monster was. None had ever seen a beast of such proportions before, only hearing the tales of terror around the fire. All could only stare in awe at the beast as it howled.

  Just for story’s sake I’ll tell you what this monster was. It was like a cyclops, properly known as the Slack-Jaw.

  Earning its name because of a large, and overgrown single bottom tooth. A tooth so much overgrown that it lay above the top lip resting along one side of the nose, forcing the jaw to sit sideways. The Slack-Jaw has two forward facing horns, like a bull but at a much larger proportion. Slack-Jaw would lock arms, grappling with others contesting their strength, making quick and aggressive head movements in attempt to gouge the others eye. The Slack-Jaw stood as tall as 5 men stacked. And it had one large yellow eye with a dark black pupil.

  Clayton quickly pulled himself up. watching while the beast caught the other man.

  The slack-jaw tore the body in half. One piece went that way. The other half went over there. The few remaining settlers screamed with panic. Most ran for the forest, hoping to stay out of line of sight. The monster walked slowly standing upright, moving closer to the settlement, the foundry now growing into a large fire.

  Clayton glanced at the broad sword laying in the dirt next to his father who was struggling to get to his feet. His mothers’ words echoed in his head as the warm glow reflected from the iron.

  Sid looking to Clayton for a hand of support, Sid was a big man and standing from the ground was a task in its own. Using the warm charred table for support his eyes met Claytons, who was still focused on the blade in the dirt.

  "Mother would tell me, one day my time would come, the holy lights would shine upon me, dubbing me as the chosen warrior blessed by the Seven." Clayton said, voice low and regal. “I would be the one to cleanse the land. Replenish the faith. I will be the one to bring Minyeara back into the game. Our legion still thrives.”

  Looking down at his father who leaned on a knee. The two shared a glance before a reflection of light in the sword stole the moment.

  Both of them made quick attempts at the swords handle. Clayton was much quicker. Grabbing the sword he furiously pivoted. Stumbling out from the thick hands clutching and reaching.

  "Clayton! Clayton stop! CLAAAYTONNN!" Sid screamed red.

  Running at the beast, Clayton's mind was flooded with warm memories of his mother, playing make-believe knight and princess.

  The Slack-Jaw, nearly in the camp now, noticed Clayton running as fast as he could, which was pretty quick as far as running goes. That quick movement infuriated the beast. It started for Clayton with a low growl of challenge

  The gap between the two quickly closed, and the Slack-Jaw raised its fists preparing to smash with a bellowing roar.