So I noticed that there's not alot of Berserk fanfiction out there... my contribution to the pool, as it were.
Prologue - Elf in the Orchard
Caedon was just settling down to his morning bowl of porridge when his youngest son, Deiter, came tearing into the cottage, slamming open the door with a loud BANG! Across the room, Edelene, his wife, jumped in surprise at the sound, nearly dropping the clay pitcher of water she was bringing to the table.
Caedon barely had time to rise from his chair before Deiter was upon him, grabbing at his hand and practically dancing in excitement. "Father! Father! Come see! Come see!"
Caedon took his son's hand. The boy's digits clapsed around two of his large, callused fingers, roughened from a lifetime of working on the trees. "What is it, son? And you should open the door slowly. You gave your mother a terrible fright."
Deiter looked to his mother, mumbling a quick "sorry, mother," before turning back to Caedon. "You've got to see this, Father! It's incredible! There's an elf out in the apple trees!"
Chuckling a bit at his son's imagination, Caedon shook his head. "An elf, you say? Strange folk, the stories say. No bigger than your hand. What say we have some breakfast together, and then we can go out and have a look?"
Deiter's brow wrinkled. "No, Father, it's bigger than a hand! It's bigger than I am! And..." He suddenly looked serious, the excitement of a moment ago fading from his face. "I think it's hurt."
* * *
Caedon trotted after Deiter's fleeting form down the rows of apple trees, the morning sun just slightly above the horizon. He'd made his son wait just long enough to put on his overcoat, and the delay had only fueled the boy's impatience. This late in the season, mornings were quite chilly. The apple crop had been long harvested, and the trees stood bare, unadorned by neither fruit nor foliage. The earth gave off a rich smell, and he inhaled deeply of the crisp cool air.
The first thing Caedon saw was not the elf. It was the shattered remains of several apple trees, their trunks splintered and broken, a few still connected by strips of bark to their roots, but others simply snapped off. As his dismayed eyes swept over the damage, calculating the cost of the slain trees, he noticed a furrow plowed into the dirt beyond, and a pale crumpled shape at the end of the furrow. Whatever it was, it had clearly fallen out of the sky, smashed up a few of his trees, and slid along the ground for several feet before finally coming to rest.
He broke into a jog, finally moved to exertion. As he approached the crumpled shape, a chill went down his spine as he realized what he was looking at.
There, at the end of the furrow, in a shallow pool of blood and covered with dirt, lay the body of an unconscious young girl. A decidedly inhuman girl, judging from the huge pair of butterfly wings that sprouted from her head and back, in place of hair. More importantly than that, however, the girl's naked body was covered with horrific injuries. Her abdomen was slashed open, gaping with not one, but two ugly wounds. The upper wound was a straight-edged gash, clearly made with a sword or a knife blade. The lower one was jagged, the flesh hanging open like some kind of twisted flower, its edges burnt and blackened. Above her abdomen, the left side of her torso was simply missing: it looked like someone had taken a saw to her side, slicing away shoulder and arm and huge slabs of flesh; Caedon could see the white nubs of her ribs, as well as the remains of the shoulder blade, just below the surface of the wound.
Miraculously, almost obscenely, the girl still lived. Her skin was ashen pale, and he could hear the blood bubbling in her chest through the hole in her side with each labored, raspy breath. He was filled with a tidal wave of pity and horror... and strangely, a spike of gut-curdling fear, deep in his bones, a fear that he'd never felt before in his 43 years of life... fear of the girl? There was no way a human could survive injuries like this... what kind of monster must this girl be, to have such unnatural resilience? He felt a sudden urge to run, and following that, a blast of guilt, smothering the fear. How could he be afraid of a child, hurt so badly, even if it wasn't human? He began to take off his overcoat to wrap around the elf girl's nude form.
"Father? What are we going to do?" Deiter asked worriedly.
Caedon gathered the elf girl's still body into his arms, her huge wings draping over his arms and dangling to the ground. "Let's take her back to the house."
Prologue - Elf in the Orchard
Caedon was just settling down to his morning bowl of porridge when his youngest son, Deiter, came tearing into the cottage, slamming open the door with a loud BANG! Across the room, Edelene, his wife, jumped in surprise at the sound, nearly dropping the clay pitcher of water she was bringing to the table.
Caedon barely had time to rise from his chair before Deiter was upon him, grabbing at his hand and practically dancing in excitement. "Father! Father! Come see! Come see!"
Caedon took his son's hand. The boy's digits clapsed around two of his large, callused fingers, roughened from a lifetime of working on the trees. "What is it, son? And you should open the door slowly. You gave your mother a terrible fright."
Deiter looked to his mother, mumbling a quick "sorry, mother," before turning back to Caedon. "You've got to see this, Father! It's incredible! There's an elf out in the apple trees!"
Chuckling a bit at his son's imagination, Caedon shook his head. "An elf, you say? Strange folk, the stories say. No bigger than your hand. What say we have some breakfast together, and then we can go out and have a look?"
Deiter's brow wrinkled. "No, Father, it's bigger than a hand! It's bigger than I am! And..." He suddenly looked serious, the excitement of a moment ago fading from his face. "I think it's hurt."
* * *
Caedon trotted after Deiter's fleeting form down the rows of apple trees, the morning sun just slightly above the horizon. He'd made his son wait just long enough to put on his overcoat, and the delay had only fueled the boy's impatience. This late in the season, mornings were quite chilly. The apple crop had been long harvested, and the trees stood bare, unadorned by neither fruit nor foliage. The earth gave off a rich smell, and he inhaled deeply of the crisp cool air.
The first thing Caedon saw was not the elf. It was the shattered remains of several apple trees, their trunks splintered and broken, a few still connected by strips of bark to their roots, but others simply snapped off. As his dismayed eyes swept over the damage, calculating the cost of the slain trees, he noticed a furrow plowed into the dirt beyond, and a pale crumpled shape at the end of the furrow. Whatever it was, it had clearly fallen out of the sky, smashed up a few of his trees, and slid along the ground for several feet before finally coming to rest.
He broke into a jog, finally moved to exertion. As he approached the crumpled shape, a chill went down his spine as he realized what he was looking at.
There, at the end of the furrow, in a shallow pool of blood and covered with dirt, lay the body of an unconscious young girl. A decidedly inhuman girl, judging from the huge pair of butterfly wings that sprouted from her head and back, in place of hair. More importantly than that, however, the girl's naked body was covered with horrific injuries. Her abdomen was slashed open, gaping with not one, but two ugly wounds. The upper wound was a straight-edged gash, clearly made with a sword or a knife blade. The lower one was jagged, the flesh hanging open like some kind of twisted flower, its edges burnt and blackened. Above her abdomen, the left side of her torso was simply missing: it looked like someone had taken a saw to her side, slicing away shoulder and arm and huge slabs of flesh; Caedon could see the white nubs of her ribs, as well as the remains of the shoulder blade, just below the surface of the wound.
Miraculously, almost obscenely, the girl still lived. Her skin was ashen pale, and he could hear the blood bubbling in her chest through the hole in her side with each labored, raspy breath. He was filled with a tidal wave of pity and horror... and strangely, a spike of gut-curdling fear, deep in his bones, a fear that he'd never felt before in his 43 years of life... fear of the girl? There was no way a human could survive injuries like this... what kind of monster must this girl be, to have such unnatural resilience? He felt a sudden urge to run, and following that, a blast of guilt, smothering the fear. How could he be afraid of a child, hurt so badly, even if it wasn't human? He began to take off his overcoat to wrap around the elf girl's nude form.
"Father? What are we going to do?" Deiter asked worriedly.
Caedon gathered the elf girl's still body into his arms, her huge wings draping over his arms and dangling to the ground. "Let's take her back to the house."
