The Everlasting Boy.

• Tyrell Davis, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2015

~A brother reads a story to his twin~
He runs, faster than he has ever needed to run before, evading people, dodging traps, try all sorts to get away from the marauders who crave his horns. He had just jumped over a fallen tree, on both sides of it on the ground were bear traps covered in leaves, only known to him by the smell of the iron used to make them. He dodged right and left, escaping the blunderbusses aimed at him from all angles as he ran through the forest, a dense and luscious green wilderness. It wasn’t much of a surprise that he could dodge the bullets, as the stench of the metal was to disgusting to bear. He could pin point exactly where it was, and where it was coming from, even before it was shot. He had gotten hit once during his fight for the right to live, right in the shoulder blade of his left arm it hit. He tripped and fell, stumbling in to a great tunnel in the ground, hundreds of metres in depth going 40degrees down. Once he stopped rolling, he decided to continue down the tunnel to find its ending. It was not much of a surprise that is ended with a door, as many houses are built in hided passages in this time of the world.

The Blood-Mount and its rider did not waste time tracking down the elusive boy. He charged ahead full throttle after the boy. They were the toughest, only to carry out extraordinary tasks for high prices, this just happened to make the cut. Gorak rode his mount, a boar-like creature the size of a car having razor-like tipped tusks and armour to match after the boy, chasing him down like a wolf with its prey. He finally caught up, just to be tricked by the elusive boy multiple times, he jumped twirled and maneuverer his way around the mount so effortlessly that Gorak could have given up right then, but he didn’t, he spun the boar around, only to have the boy hold himself above the tusk, upside-down with one hand, his horns teasing the rider. The battle thereafter was brutal, the boy being hit with the brutes club, a tree trunk with metal spiked escaping all around and the brute being sliced by the ability to wield a sword at incredible speeds. It came to an end, the boy, broken and wounded fled the scene, keeping his life, and his horns, the brute, slowly losing consciousness lay in the middle of the broken up field, his boar incapacitated, his pride shattered, and the boy lost. He lay there, helpless, crawling slowly towards his companion, lightly patting the hair on the creatures’ nose in it’ last second of life. He waits until his companion is gone until he decides to join the realm of the dead.

~The brother finishes reading to his twin~