Highland Guardian

A chill snapped at Samuel, waking him to a lightless morning. The trek through the Highlands exceeded his expectations. He crawled from his tent closer to what little of the fire remained as he scanned his surroundings. Unfortunately, the herd had not yet arrived. He sighed and stood, stretching and cracking his limbs as he prepared himself for yet another day of searching.

He packed his tent and stamped out the embers, and set off northward.

"They must be close," he said, his breath shuttering as he walked. The sun eventually peeked above the horizon, showering the plains ahead in a single ray of gold. As Samuel arose to the top of a small hill, he looked out across the expanse.

The absence of wildlife was deafening, accompanied only by a sudden strong breeze and... A leaf? Samuel bent down, picked it from the tall grass, admiring the autumn yellow tint, and looked east. Alone stood a small grove of birch trees. Bewildered, he moved in closer and soon realized he was not alone.

In the center of the grove, one single, mighty bull laid asleep. Samuel quickly stepped behind one of the trees and readied a camera. Seeing such a creature, he considered loud and angry, in such a peaceful state made him even forget how cold he was. And now, this moment had been captured and stilled himself.

"An interesting contraption you have there." The voice, so calm and clear, yet rough and withered. Samuel jumped and snapped his head back and forth, searching. "Won't you come out?" The bull began to rouse and yawn, stumbling onto its hooves. "I assume you are here for something."

Samuel paused and slowly turned towards the bull, now seeing that this bull was extraordinary. Its midnight fur flowed in the breeze effortlessly and seemed to glow in the sunlight. Its horns curved out and inward, similar to the fangs of a snake. Its gaze felt like a pressure upon him as Samuel stepped into the grove.

"Why have you come to my grove, young one?" The bull seemed to beckon Samuel closer.

Samuel stepped closer, feeling as if being welcomed into a wise man's home. "Your... Your grove?" Samuel finally drew his gaze from the bull to the trees around him. "I suppose I was curious. I still am."

The bull stepped closer, studying Samuel with an unyielding presence. "I see." The bull rose its head, and it shimmered. As Samuel rubbed his eyes, he was surprised to find an older man who stood where the bull once was. The man's hair matched the pitch black color of the bull's fur, and though his stature was broad and muscular, the wrinkles upon his face proved to be gentle and kind. "You don't know what you've stumbled upon."

Samuel cocked his head to the side as the man smiled and beckoned to follow. They seemed to walk for hours but noticed no change in the sun's position. Then, a small cottage appeared along the horizon, and as they approached, Samuel saw that it rest near the edge of a cliff that overlooked a small village. Smoke rose from the various chimneys, mixing with scents of burning charcoal, various meats, and spices. Samuel could hear the faint clanging of metal and shouts of barkers from above.

"That town below has thrived for centuries. It was named Nautahlið, or Bull's Gate, because of an old folk tale involving a bull that guarded the town against danger."

"I guess you are the bull it speaks of." Samuel turned to the man. "Who are you?"

"It is as you said, I am the Bull from the folk tale. Though, that won't be the case for much longer." The man turns towards his home and walks inside. "Come inside. You just might be the one." Samuel follows inside and meets the scent of fresh pine and a candlelit interior revealing a square table in the center of the room with four simple chairs and a window behind it. A cold fireplace rests under a stone chimney with a cast iron pot hanging above the wood, two rocking chairs sitting near it. A simple counter with wooden kitchen utensils adorns the eastern side of the cottage, while a made bed rests against the western wall.

"This seems like a very cozy home." Samuel trails his fingers along the counter.

"This cottage has been home to the last Bulls before the villagers settled."

"The previous Bulls?"

"Yes. We don't live forever. I am still human, just as you are. When we die, however, we must find another to take our position as a guardian. I believe you are to be the next Bull, Samuel. The next guardian of Bull's Gate."

Samuel's eyebrows rise as he listens. "Uh, I'm just a photographer. I don't think I have any real place to take up that kind of position."

"Neither did I at first. However, I had a reason for coming out into the highlands just as you did. I wanted to record the paths of wild cattle during the year. Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful and instead found myself exploring the very same birch grove you found." The old man removes the pot and begins lighting the fireplace. "Will you listen to what I have to say?" He sits down in his rocking chair and watches the fire begin to rise.

As the fire begins to crackle and warm the rest of the cottage, Samuel nods. "Alright, I suppose it couldn't hurt."

"Excellent. By the way..." The old man lights himself a pipe and takes a few puffs. "My name is Raymond. I'm the fifteenth Bull."