Night approached in the distance of the sky, the last streams of sunlight slowly fading as the sun disappeared behind the blurry mountains, its fiery face dimming. A strong wind had picked up and the surrounding pine trees bent to its will, their trunks groaning in protest. Gabriel Silk watched with a content expression, sitting on Pine hill as the breeze ruffled his raven-black hair to and fro. His ears perked up to the muffled singing of the crickets serenade, sounding of magical places and adventure. Then, suddenly, he recalled something his father had said on this very hill to Gabriel. “When you look down from this hill, what do you see, son? “ Gabriel had pondered this question for awhile until he had replied, “I see a forest, father.” “No, son. Use your eyes, ears, and then tell me what you see.” Gabriel took a deep breath and then peered down the grassy hill. His eyes followed the curve of he trees as they bent and his ears lingered on the stray chirping of birds. He could see the thin, green blades of grass whipping in the wind and the pine needles as they blew in unison. “I see a forest full of living, breathing things. The forest is the guardian of many things and it protects them with itself. Its branches for the birds, it’s roots for the rabbits that dig their burrows deep into the ground, and it’s fallen pine needle to provide cover for the snakes. His father smiled broadly and clapped Gabriel on the back. “Well said, son. Well said.” He said proudly. “Whenever you look from this hill remember your words.” Gabriel smiled at the memory. His father and Gabriel had made a living as wood cutters and in Pine wood they hardly ever were scarce on business. Gabriel had never known his mother. She had died at birth, leaving Gabriel’s father with a small, tender baby. Gabriel. Gabriel’s father said his mother was a dark, black-haired beauty with grey mysterious eyes. That’s the side where Gabriel had gotten his looks from, unlike his father, who had short dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes. To the south of the hill a small village, rested in a small valley surrounded by hundreds of pine trees. It was Gabriel and his father’s home town. Gabriel relaxed in the tall grass and his eyes began to flutter lazily. The wind was blowing softly on his face and Gabriel relaxed until he was lying on his back. He yawned and with a murmur he began to drift to sleep.

Gabriel awoke with a start to the sharp smell of smoke and the crackling of flames. A sharp pain exploded in Gabriel’s head, almost causing Gabriel to collapse back down to the ground. A hundred questions raced through his mind but none of them he could answer. His head felt light and with a groan he picked himself up. He looked down Pine Hill and let out a gasp of horror. The village was on fire! Flames leapt from house to house, the fiery tongues dancing up the straw-thatched roofs. Oh, no. This can’t be happening. No! Screams of terror echoed from the village to the hill and Gabriel peered closer. Dark clothed figures wielding wicked swords ran through the village, cutting down the fleeing villagers. Gabriel let out a moan of despair and horror. Then suddenly, a image of his father in the wreckage came to him and Gabriel let out a frightened cry. “Father!” And without thinking of the peril or danger Gabriel dove down the hill. Brambles and thorns tore at his tunic and his face but Gabriel was too propelled by fear and anger that he didn’t feel them as they slashed through his skin. Branches grabbed at his trousers and his hair, as if they were trying to stop him from getting to the village. Gabriel let out an angry cry and tore them away. He raced even faster, the trees blurring as they rushed past. But suddenly something hard hit Gabriel’s legs and with a yelp of surprise he went crashing painfully down the hill. Gabriel’s body felt every bump as he rolled and he grappled desperately for something to hold onto. Rocks and dirt scraped his hand, opening a new set of cuts in his hand. Another bump jarred Gabriel to the left and his shoulder slammed into the rough trunk of the pine tree. His scream of pain was drowned out by roaring wind and suddenly, he came to an erupt halt, slamming into a pile of pine needles that had cushioned his fall. Without hesitating to nurse his wound Gabriel stumbled to his feet and began running the rest of the way to the village. Fire roared all around Gabriel as he entered and the smoke was so thick that you could barely see the houses. The heat scorched Gabriel’s skin and his hair sizzled. “Father,” Gabriel screamed, praying to the gods that his father was alive. “Father-“ Gabriel began, and then stopped. A figure laid near a burning house, a sword in a cold, dead hand. Blood was seeping through his clothes from a hole in his chest. Gabriel fell to his knees, numb all over. It was his father. He had tried to fight back but they had been to strong. A cry of anguish ripped from Gabriel’s mouth and tears began streaming fro