Elias Kane

The Boy in the Woods The night sky turned white. One moment we were marching beneath the trees. The next, a great flash erupted deep within the forest, bright enough to turn night into day. The commander sent four men to investigate. None returned. Another four followed. They vanished too. No screams. No clash of steel. Just silence. So we went in together. Thirty armed men entered those woods expecting bandits, witchcraft—perhaps something worse. We found our missing soldiers scattered through the darkness. Alive. One unconscious beneath a tree. Another bound with his own belt. Swords taken, torches extinguished. Something was hunting them. Then we heard movement above us. Branches shifted. A shadow crossed between the trees. Every sword left its sheath. “SHOW YOURSELF!” Silence. Then he stepped into the moonlight. No monster. No demon. A boy. Seventeen, perhaps eighteen. Strange black clothing. Blood beneath his nose. Eyes watching every man surrounding him, counting us, studying exits. Eight trained soldiers had entered his darkness. Eight had fallen. And the boy hadn’t killed a single one. Our commander slowly raised his sword. “Who are you?” The boy looked at thirty armed men, then back toward the darkness behind him. For the first time, he smiled. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”