Free Merek's Ascendance by Andrew Lashway

the rampaging storm outside.
    He turned then to the hunting knife, the blade nearly a foot long with a serrated edge on one side. Its sharpness had been lost, but Merek had learned a few tricks about sharpening blades from the knights of the castle. All he would need was a certain type of stone. Of course, what kind of stone and where he could find it, he had no idea. But he’d managed so far, if only barely. He would manage again.
    The flask was made of some kind of material; he really couldn’t figure it out. But it was solid and smooth as it flopped around in his hand. He would wash it out and fill it up, and have a source of water he could take with him.
    If only the storm would go away.
    It raged for several more hours, completely ignorant or simply careless to Merek’s suffering. Eventually, pure exhaustion shut down Merek’s brain and allowed him to sleep through it, but it wasn’t very restful.
    When morning came, the storm had mercifully broken. The forest was nearly flooded and several of the trees had been shaken loose of the ground, but at least the sun was shining again.
    Merek delayed leaving his cave for several hours, somewhat because of the wetness outside but mostly because he just didn’t want to. Unfortunately, hunger roused him and he climbed down, hunting for the familiar berries that sustained him. He doubted any animals would be out to hunt, owing to the large amounts of rain that had fallen. Then again, their homes may be flooded and they’d have no choice. Merek had no way to know.
    His hunting knife stowed in his pants and his staff firmly grasped in his hand, Merek started to walk. Despite the fact that he really preferred not to, he decided to make another trip to the plains. Maybe there would be more things to find out there today.
    He broke from the tree line after only a few moments of hesitation, heading towards the hills in the distance in a different direction than yesterday’s trek. The plains were quiet with only a gentle breeze floating across the grass.
    Merek’s eyes narrowed as he walked, clutching his staff tightly.
    He walked for only twenty minutes before he found a ravine. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough that he’d have to climb down one way and climb up the other, which didn’t sound very appealing at all. The main problem was that it was very wide, at least forty feet if his eyes didn’t deceive him. There didn’t seem to be any way to get across.
    Then his eyes found the bottom of the ravine, and his heart stopped.
    There was a pile of bodies, all strewn around in a pool of blood. Without hesitation, Merek laid his staff down and slipped over the side of the cliff to start his descent, careful not to let his worry for their well-being overshadow the worry for his own. If anyone had survived, he’d be no use to them if he fell himself.
    It only took him three minutes to climb down, but by the time he managed it he was completely winded.
    It was then he fully realized what he had rushed into.
    Just by the awkward way most of them had landed, Merek knew they were dead. Arms were bent at extreme angles, some bent upwards where they should have been pushed down. Necks were shattered, some heads partially pulled free of their places. Blood coated the ground, and the rancid smell of death was becoming overpowering. It was all Merek could do not to throw up.
    Then he heard a slight, pained cough.
    He re-examined the bodies, looking for one that still held life. Finally, he found a man was sitting propped against the wall, breathing so faintly Merek didn’t wonder how he had missed him. Though the more Merek looked at him, the more he realized this man was the only one that didn’t have any obvious injury.
    “Hello?” Merek said, crouching at his side. The man’s eyes fluttered open, brown eyes that stared without really seeing.
    “He… hello,” came the eventual response. The man’s face was stained with dried blood, but Merek didn’t think it was all his