As a renowned artist such as myself, it is imperative for me to travel to see the world. After all, good art only comes from good inspiration, does it not? My many works featured even in the Capitol’s private exhibits are all depictions of land and cityscapes. Wonderful feats from the hands of the gods and man are shown in splendor in my paintings. Folks, I would say it is imperative for you to see my gallery with your very eyes before leaving this earth!
But I apologize for the side tangent. You want to hear the story of the boy, don’t you?
Well, here it is.
Like I mentioned before, I am quite the traveler for the sake of my art. I’ve been to every single city you can name, and seen all the natural landmarks folk can only dream of seeing at least once in their lives. But because of my expertise in the famous places, I became quite bored of the typical things people found “astonishing”. A celebrity like myself required something better than the general public (no offense to you all).
I needed to find something to paint that was different. Something other than the biggest buildings or mountains. So I set off to wherever the spirit of inspiration would take me.
I was immediately robbed. On my second day of travel, some random bandits attacked me and the driver, and went off with our carriage.
“Sir… what do we do? I-I don’t normally take this route very well, and they stole the map” the driver, a middle-aged human, said to me while nervously biting his nails. He had a nasty habit of biting them loudly when stressed. I hated it.
“How should I know?!” I was already furious at failing to find tracks from our carriage. “It’s your job to know where we’re going!”
The driver flinched at my loud voice, and stayed quiet. I sighed and paced around the grass, thinking of what to do. “The nearest town is a long way off, and we’ll be slaughtered by animals if we stay any longer in this god-forsaken forest.”
“Perhaps we can keep going south? The town you wanted to visit is somewhere there.”
“’Somewhere there’ is not reassuring. And the only way to avoid getting mauled by wildlife at night is through a horse or another carriage. Walking would only guarantee death.” I paused. “Search around and look for any living folk. They might provide us with some shelter.”
“Living folk? Around here?”
“Yes, now head towards that direction and I’ll take this one.” I turned and headed towards the direction behind me. “If you can’t find anyone, come back to this spot.”
"But sir-"
“Just GO!”
The driver man shut his mouth, and headed towards the other direction I pointed to. Finally, I had some peace and quiet as I walked. That fool blabbered way too much.
“There has to be someone who lives in this forest,” I mumbled to myself. From all my ventures, I found that there was always a soul that inhabited even the most treacherous places on earth. I’ve seen my fair share of locals in forests similar to this one, so I was confident.
Then again, the people that usually inhabited the unknown were normally wild or dangerous. I could recollect the conversation I had back in the town I traveled from.
“That direction?” A man who looked like a farmer replied. “Naw sir. There ain’t a stick of civilization in those parts of the woods. Especially the far east side.”
“Not even a lounge for travelers?” I was only asking because I needed a place to relieve myself. My bladder and bowels were normally not cooperative on road trips.
The farmer shook his head. “Naw, sorry. Even the townsfolk who’ve been living here for decades never step in them parts. They known to have strange animals and other things lurking there.”
“I see.” And I didn’t ask anymore.
That darn farmer should have told me about the bandits at least! I gripped the straps of my backpack tighter and kicked a rock out of my way. To hell with inspiration. The next work I would ever produce if I’m still alive would be a painting of that farmer’s stupid face, all distorted and ugly.
I was interrupted from my thoughts when I heard some shuffling through the thick bushes. My body immediately froze, praying that it wasn’t a beast.
Then, a strand of white caught my eye. It looked like hair.
“Who’s ther- “ I shut my mouth when the figure in the bushes moved again.
They shuffled again in the bushes, scattering quite a ton of leaves, and stopped again. Then, a small head popped out, revealing the figure who had caught my attention.
It was a little boy with strikingly white hair. He had brown skin, and was missing a shirt from my perspective. Bare chested, he looked as if he hadn’t taken a proper bath in weeks. And like a bird, he was frantically looking around, seemingly unaware of my presence far behind him.
If a child like this was in the forest, there had to be other people living nearby. “Excuse me child!” I shouted, trudging towards him.
The boy didn’t seem to hear, and only scratched his ear with his shoulder.
Then, he stood up and bolted towards the opposite direction.
I panicked. “Hey you! Wait up!” I said, now chasing after him. “Stop for a second!”
The boy was now too far away in the dense forest, and he ran as fast as a madman. Still, I continued running towards his general direction, hoping to find anyone who could help me. Why was this small child so quick? Surely, he was way faster than me when I was a boy, and I was a pretty capable lad then!
I kept running, feeling the rapid air in my lungs as I did. My backpack holding my remaining art supplies did not help with this physical task, and made me slow down after a minute of running.
“Good… gods…” I breathed out, walking over to a tree to lean on to catch my breath. I hated the feeling of sweat sticking my clothes to my skin, and needed to dry off immediately. Forget the strange boy. I had to keep some degree of hygiene.
“Master!” A distant high-pitched yell reached my ears.
Master? Does that mean someone else was close by? Refueled with the possibility of finding help, I instantly boosted off the tree I was leaning on to run towards the direction where the boy went.
After a minute of running, I ran into a peculiar setting. In front of me was a small clearing in the forest that had a wooden cabin in the center. Small amounts of smoke rose from the cabin’s chimney, which told me there were people nearby.
I stood in the middle of the clearing, waiting for someone to appear before me. The kid had to be around here for sure. Where was that little rascal?
“Is there anyone here?” My voice seemed to echo across the field, with no response back. Then, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.
Someone popped up from behind the cabin. A giant woman, presumably part orc from her towering bulky figure and fanged teeth. She wore the garments of a fighter, and I was frightened to see her blood red eyes glare directly into mine.
Whether it was from magic or just my immense fear, I was rooted to the spot as she jetted across the clearing in godly speed and slammed my entire body to the outer cabin wall. I cried at feeling my chin getting crushed against the hard wood.
“What are you?” she growled above my ear with a threatening deep voice, pinning me easily against the surface with just one arm.
“Please don’t kill me!”
“I’ll put a knife through your arm instead unless you answer my question. Talk.”
“I’m simply an artist passing through! I was just looking for some shelter or means of traveling through the forest, I swear!”
From behind me, I heard her grunt in disbelief. Then, my backpack was ripped out from me and emptied onto the ground. All of my painting supplies were littered next to me, the poor things.
Still holding me hostage, the orc lady reached her other hand down and picked up my palette knife, gazing at it in strange concentration. Then, she released her hold on me (relieving the aches on my arms from her incredible grip).
“I guess you really are an artist,” she said, the tone of her voice noticeably more relaxed than her initial threatening one.
“How would you know what a painting knife is?” I blurted out. Then, I froze at realizing that sounded degrading.
I was right. She stared down at me with crossed eyes, then dropped the tool back down to the floor. “I killed someone with it.”
Oh.
“R-Right…” Mentally, I was as ready as a frightened hare, set to jump and dive back into the forest at the first sign of any attack.
Thankfully, she seemed to lose her tense expression and crossed her large arms on her chest. “What do you want?” she asked, more annoyed than angry.
“Simply just a shelter or a horse to find my way towards the nearest town.” Picking up my fallen things, I was relieved at not being killed, although I anxiously watched her feet closely in case the stranger decided to change her mind. “I was attacked by some bandits on my way south, and sadly have no means to get there on time before being killed by some wild animal.”
“Hm.” She didn’t sound too empathetic towards my plight.
Time to turn on the charm. I’d rather try and end up dying by her hands than to die alone with no witnesses by some creature in the woods. “Someone as physically capable as you can easily sweep across this forest in half a day,” I praised, placing the last of my things back into my pack. Then, I stood and gave her my winning smile that always brought in patrons for my exhibits. “Perhaps if I were just to stay a night…”
“No.”
The smile on my face was quickly gone. “Then I’ll offer you money or a painting in exchange. I’ll even be willing to sleep on the floor and leave early in the morning before you even open your eyes!”
“I said no. Now get out,” she ordered, a vein visibly bulging on her arm. Her arms were almost the size of my legs. If she were to hit me once, I knew I would surely be brought to the gates of heaven too soon.
Still, I pleaded and got down on my knees. “Please, madam!” I said, clasping my hands together. “I beg you, I’ll do anything for your help! Don’t let me die in the woods alone!”
The half-orc flinched at my sudden actions, her eyes twitching at the sound of ‘madam’. “Fine, now shut up,” she growled through gritted teeth. “With a horse, you can find your way back, so stop whining.”
“But I don’t have a horse,” I stated (maybe whimpered), still on my knees.
She sighed, resting her head between her thumb and forefinger. “Wait here…” Shooting an irritated look at me, the stranger then trudged away to the far side of the cabin.
To my surprise, the lady granted me a horse with reins and provided directions to my desired destination (in the form of short commands). I thanked her profusely, demanding to provide her with any artwork she wished from me, but she refused every time.
“Surely you must be rewarded for helping an important figure such as me,” I insisted, saddling my pack on the horse. “I have many riches to offer you, or fame if you wish.”
“I don’t need any of that,” she snapped for the 3rd time, looking away.
“Then why are you helping me?”
She threw me another irritated look. “Because if I killed you here, your scent would attract the bears. And they’re annoying as hell to get rid of.”
I snorted at this comment. And truth be told, I may have grown too comfortable at her generosity in helping me, because the next words that came out of my mouth were the most regrettable in my life. “No need for that. I can simply pay you a visit again with much wealth and men to thank you for your services.”
The tall figure froze noticeably.
As relaxed as I was that moment, I did immediately notice her change of expression. “What’s wro-,”
Before I could finish my sentence, the lady grabbed my arm. In a span of a second, she slammed my hand on the ground and drove a sharp object through it. I screamed at the piercing pain that resulted.
There was only the excruciating sting from the wound, and the hoarseness from my throat after. I could not see the lady’s face as she leaned into my ear to speak.
“Stop crying,” she hissed. “Look.”
Shivering, I obeyed and opened my eyes, her image blurred through tears. From a glance, I was able to see that the sharp object was a nail, and it had driven through the flesh between two fingers of my hand, leaking some warm blood. It was only a speck away from the muscle and ruining my career.
In other words, a close call. “What- “
The lady let go of my arm and gripped the back of my neck forcefully. “Listen closely.” She squeezed my neck at her last word, forcing me to look down. “The moment I found you scurrying around, I wanted to severe your limbs off. The moment you started talking, I wanted to cut your tongue off.”
“And the moment you said you’d bring people here,” she said, then removed the nail and poked a finger on my chest in a slow, repeating way. “I really wanted to drive a nail right here, in the exact same spot I used for the last artist.”
I gulped, picturing my palette knife spearing through another person’s heart. It only made my tremors worse.
The stranger sighed, letting go of my neck and watching me calmly for a seemingly long time. As if she was deciding what to do with my life. I was only able to stay kneeled to the ground, holding my bleeding hand close to my chest and avoiding her gaze. I stayed as quiet as a mouse.
The moment she spoke again, I winced instinctively. “But I guess I’m a little rusty.”
I knew for certain that wasn’t true. It wasn’t child’s play to nail the exact point she had pierced on my hand.
I decided to speak, albeit in a quiet voice. “I won’t say a word.”
She huffed, staying in the same spot as if pondering my promise. Then, she stood up and walked a few steps away, leaving me on the ground, helpless.
My eyes were directed on the grass, but I heard her stop at a certain distance. Her next words were cemented into memory. “Take the horse and get out. Don’t ever come back or mention what you saw here.”
Then, she left. Her footsteps grew quieter and disappeared.
I was traumatized. Violated. As brave of a person I normally am, I stayed there longer to recover from her threat, both physical and verbal. Even the noblest of men have challenging moments in their lives, folks.
And after a few minutes, that’s when I heard the boy’s voice.
It was faint, almost unnoticeable because of my thumping heartbeat and the forest sounds. But I recognized the high pitch voice that got me into this situation in the first place.
My suspicions were confirmed when I got up and peeked from the side of the cabin. On the other side of the clearing was the white-haired boy and the stranger who almost killed me.
“Master, I did it! I got it!” The boy was excited, running towards her with his arms up, holding a foreign object.
“What is it?” I heard the orc lady say dryly.
“Look!” He stopped in front of her and showed her whatever he was holding. When I squinted to look closer, I realized that it was the body of a dead squirrel. Revolting!
It seemed to not bother the stranger at all. “Put it in the kitchen. I’ll skin and cook it.”
The child started hopping repeatedly. “I got it by using a trap!” He then stopped to point at somewhere specific on the dead animal. “I did it like Master did. I found a vine just like you did and…”
The boy rambled on about his adventure, which I didn’t take much heed of. What I did pay attention to was a surprising expression on the stranger’s face. She had her hands on her hips, and bent down her towering figure towards the child, almost in the same menacing way she had done to me.
But instead, there was a barely noticeable smile on her face. It looked... motherly.
“So she does smile…” I said to myself, taking in the moment in front of me. My artistic whims kicked in, and I instinctively grabbed materials from my pack to start sketching what I was witnessing. The pain from my hand subsided from pure driven excitement.
For a majority of my career, it was the surrounding landscapes and giant works of man that captivated my inspiration. But this scene with the stranger and child sparked the exact same joy in me and revived my artistic spirit once again. Maybe it was the adrenaline from being stabbed that drove me to this direction? I had absolutely no idea why this was so particularly inspiring to display in my art.
In fact, I was so zoned in on my sketching of the two that I didn’t realize they had finished their conversation and were walking towards my direction. Just a few feet towards me and they would have seen my peeping presence!
Without thinking I dropped everything and scurried up my horse. Whipping the reins, I sped out of there as fast as I could, with the fear of being murdered by that half-orc woman returning to my thoughts. And after a few hours, I had arrived here safe and alive!
So let it be known in this town; beware of Thornbrush forest, especially the mother orc and her wild human child. And please, spare a piece for the artist who discovered them!
- - -
Despite promising not to tell others the whereabouts of Gyeong and her child, Reece, the artist who crossed paths with them spread this story uncontrollably overnight. Mostly in the effort to gain the money he had lost in the burglary.
As time passed, this story was simplified to just the tale of a “wild child”, with the mentions of the half-orc Gyeong fading away with the rest of the details. Many people feared that the child was a potential monster because of his description in the story. And as years went by, there were fears that the child had grown into a beastly man.
Reece had no idea about the existence of this tale, or even the artist who started it. What he did find was the sketch that was left behind. With the permission of his master, he was allowed to keep it.
---