Ute the Shackled (side story from The Hinterland universe)

In one day’s time, it would be the final battle for Ute the Shackled. Victory would, at last, mean dominion over all of The Hinterland. All of it that mattered, anyway. Defeat would mean a long-awaited release from his self-imposed shackles. The ultimate release of a warrior’s death. Either was a win in his eyes.

His people were mountain dwellers, built for survival in harsh conditions. Nine feet tall was Ute, slightly above average for his species. He and the rest of his kind were clad in thick fur (his was white), strong as gorillas, with human-like hands and claws as strong and sharp as a buzzard’s beak. He wore four pairs of shackles on his wrists, their chains broken with a few links dangling from each. Relics from his four captures, his four escapes. He wore them as a reminder of his arrogant belief that brute strength alone was enough to single-handedly conquer the world. 

Possessing impenetrable skin, Ute had defeated entire armies in a single conquest. Capture was the only way to quell his advance, and even then, his enemies knew that he could not be held for long. Death by conventional weapons was simply not an option.

Ute knew what he must do to finally end the cycle of near-complete superiority followed by temporary confinement. Only two options existed: end his pursuit of dominance and live out his life in peace (he laughed at this notion) or at last face off with the one being who had the power to kill him: The Bear.

In the Hinterland, The Bear was the physical embodiment of strength and confidence. He fed on that of others who dared approach him. His appetite for the hubris of others was insatiable.

There were some who said that he was a common grizzly bear who had been enchanted by a powerful god and charged with the objective of keeping others from gaining more power than the god itself.

Still others insisted that The Bear was actually not a bear at all. That it was a once-formless spirit with the power to harness the strength of others for his own, simply by witnessing their ambition to face him in battle. These theorists claimed that the spirit had started out almost non-existent, siphoning strength from insects, then rodents and small birds, and worked his way up to grizzlies, gorillas, and enormous beasts of all kinds. They say he can now absorb the strength of legions of men in an instant, but that he finds it amusing to drain them one at a time. Those who believe this to be true insist that one day he will consume the power of the entire universe.

Thousands of ambitious fighters seek him out every year, for it is commonly believed that anyone who finally defeats The Bear will gain his power. Thousands more face off against its awesome power against their will, having been captured by The Bear’s loyal servants.

The 333rd anniversary of Ute’s first successful conquest is the date he vowed to succeed where countless others had failed. He would strike down The Bear and then it would be irrefutable. He would be the most powerful being in The Hinterland.

When that day came, Ute wandered into The Bear’s camp, dragging his weapon of choice behind him--a gnarly club he had pulled barehanded from the burl of a massive sequoia and decorated with the sharpened bone fragments of his enemies. Upon entry to the camp, he was asked to relinquish his weapon, assured he would receive it back when it was his turn to fight.

Surrounding the camp were hundreds of cages which held all manner of creatures. Some cried for help, for mercy. Others sobbed. Many just sat in silence, awaiting their doom. Within the perimeter were hundreds more beasts not unlike Ute himself—some even his same species—milling about, conversing, eating, drinking, even laughing. Fights among the uncaged crowd were common, some fatal. These beings were clearly here by choice. They were much more formidable contenders than those in the cages. Even still, none of them stood a chance against The Bear. None other than I, Ute told himself.

In the center of it all sat the arena, and at its edge, there stood The Bear, flanked by a couple dozen of his lackeys on either side. He was easily fifteen feet tall and must have weighed at least two thousand pounds. He resembled a grizzly bear, just as the stories said, but his coat did not look like fur. As Ute got close enough to get a better view, it appeared to him that the enormous creature must have a rough exterior. Like touching him would feel like touching a pumice stone.

Hopeful for a worthy opponent, The Bear always supplied his victims with a hearty meal the night before their chance in the arena. His minions provided the fighters with a wide variety of weapons from which to choose as well. Despite these advantages, every fighter’s attempt was, at best, pathetic to Ute’s eyes.

Eating greedily from the banquet table before him, he watched as fighter after fighter entered the ring only to meet their demise nearly instantly. By some strange magic, the victims’ bodies would then dissolve and drift towards The Bear’s impressive form, expanding his size ever so slightly more with each death. Ute knew in the depths of his soul that this power would soon be his.

A small creature occupied the seat next to Ute. He had not seen one of these before. It was small with pale skin and hairless except for a long mane twisted together in a braid—red like autumn leaves—which draped down its back. Female, he assumed. She ate with delicate fingers in quantities not much more than a bird compared to Ute’s ravenous hunger—no more than one or two bites at a time. How could this creature possibly stand a chance against The Bear, he thought.

They must travel in pairs, Ute considered as a second of this species took the seat on his other side. This one was slightly smaller and its gender was uncertain. The creature shoved its way into the small gap available on the bench and proceeded to help itself to Ute’s food. The pluck this creature has! Ute thought. Others had died by his hands for less. When the creature reached for a dessert on the table and spilled Ute’s drink, there was to be no forgiveness. The massive beast gripped the human’s hand in his own and crushed it like a bird in the jaws of an alligator. Even as he felt the tiny bones snapping, Ute felt a sharp pain in his thigh. But I am not vulnerable to stabbing, was his final thought before going limp.

What happened next Ute would never know. When he awoke an unknown amount of time later, the camp was abandoned. The Bear was nowhere to be seen, nor were any of the other inhabitants. The Hinterland would need to wait until another day to be conquered by Ute the Shackled.

Like this story? Subscribe here to get notified about new stories first!