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Isabella Landwehr is fifteen-year old writer who participated and completed the summer 2024 Hero’s Journey Writing Challenge. Her short story” A Hunter’s Game” is a somber and poignant journey of a young woman’s attempts to save her family and find purpose in her life.

Read Isabella’s epic short story below:

Το Κάλεσμα: To Kálesma: The Calling

Rustle, rustle. Snap! I whip around, bow drawn. I aim my arrow at the heart of whoever is stalking me. I feel the familiar tensing in my muscles as I prepare for the kill.

The sound gets closer and closer until… a harmless rabbit hops out of the bushes. I kick myself for looking so foolish. Then, I am reminded of why I am here in the first place.

I should be dead. Instead, I’m hiding in the woods. I ran for hours, days even. It’s all a blur, really.

It all started on that warm, late summer night. The man in blue robes brought the letter to our door. The royal insignia shone on the seal. He handed it to my mother and her eyes shone with tears.

Though I didn’t understand at first, my mother immediately knew what this meant for us. At first glance, the things seem unconnected. One of the tributes died before reaching the palace. My father had fallen out of the king’s favor and was killed. Debts had gone unpaid, because our money, and all of my own time and effort, had gone to sustaining our family.

My mother broke the news to me, holding back great sobs. I, Theia, the eldest child of Sebastian of Crete, was to be slaughtered in the Labyrinth to feed the Minotaur. If they sent me to my gruesome death, all of our debts were to be forgiven.

Yeah, right. I thought. Like they would let it all go, just like that. They just want me dead so I can’t avenge my father’s death and the rest of his children will starve. If anything, it takes away all of their problems at once. But I hold my tongue, so as not to add to my mother’s distress.

Later, I will discuss the plan I am formulating with Atticus, the second oldest but several years younger than me. I find him tending to our sorry vegetable patch. His brow is knit with frustration, but the most fake of smiles is plastered on his face when he hears me approach.

“Hey, there…” he trails off and his smile falls. It is not just my look of determination that pulls him up short. He knows he doesn’t have to keep strong for me.

“How are the onions? I don’t want to pull you away from your hard work” I say.

“I know you are not here for small talk. And they cannot come to be much worse, anyway. What do you need to discuss with me?” Atticus asks, dusting off his palms as he stands. Brusque as he seems, my little brother can always tell when something is on my mind.

I glance around and see my youngest sister, Thea, playing nearby, so I whisper,

“We must speak in the woods. I do not want the mikrá to overhear,” I say, referring to our young siblings with our affectionate nickname for them. It means ‘little ones’.

His brow knits even deeper than before as we reach the treerow. I can tell he is working through every horrible scenario. Mother is sick. Someone we love has died. They are taking more, or all, of our land.

“They are sending me as tribute to the Minotaur,” I say quickly.

My brother is not one to surprise easily. He has become quite adept at hiding his emotions behind a gilded veil. This news blows him out of the water. He sputters but quickly recovers.

“What?… When?… How?… Why you?!” he manages. Even he knows that I am the one holding our fragile family together.

“It is reparation for Father,” I reply solemnly.

He utters under his breath curses that would make Mother faint before continuing, “How soon?”

“I have a week at most,” I reply. “That is why…” I take a deep breath and say, “I plan to flee before they can get to me.”

Atticus begins to pace. He thinks through every avenue and examines every facet of this plan that may save us from heartbreak and ruin.

“Have you told Mother yet? Never mind. I know the answer. But how will we get by without you?”

I had wondered long and hard about this myself.

“ I will teach you all I know before I must leave.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You have to leave at the new moon, and you plan to show me all you know before then? How will we both hunt, for surely you must fend for yourself as well? We have but one bow to our name.”

“No,” I say quietly, facing the leaf litter at my feet. I raise my eyes to his. “For all of us to survive, one of us must take up Father’s bow.”

Atticus went quiet, though this time, it was not for thinking. I had rendered him absolutely speechless. The great bow had sat untouched upon the mantle since Father’s death.

But as he sat there silent, his face changed. He slowly nodded his head. It hadn’t taken him nearly as long to come to the realization as it had me, but either way, we both understood.

There was no other way.

🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙

And so, I ran. I flew through the woods as if I had the wings of a griffin. Not before one last stop, though. The one thing that might make the king leave my family alone.

I went to the house of Theseus, my closest friend. I knew he alone would even think of taking on this huge favor. Our fathers were friends from the beginning, so we became friends as young children, too.

Months after receiving the fateful news, I knocked upon his door, a new moon above my head. Though it was the dead of night, he opened it immediately, knowing it could be only me. I gathered my courage and begged him to replace me. Otherwise, the king would just take another of Sebastian’s brood. But if Theseus went in my place, Atticus would be spared.

Η Οδηγώ: I Odigó: The Guiding

It was hard to leave Theseus, especially knowing he would be dead if I ever returned. My one solace was that my family would live, and I was confident Atticus could get them through our hard times.

I disappeared into the woods with only a rucksack, a quiverful of arrows, and Father’s bow. It pained me to take one of the few things of his we had left. But it was better for us all when I left. We all knew it, and if not, I hoped they would come to understand.

Before I had left Theseus that night, I asked him for advice. In the wee hours of the morning, we conversed. We plotted and planned until Eos brought her first light.

All night, we spoke of how one another could survive. He taught me all he knew of the woods. Edible plants, tracking, and whatnot. I told him what little I knew of combat. It wasn’t much that we did not know already, but at least we felt better prepared to meet our fates.

Theseus told me to escape Crete by following a stream leading to the sea. Deep in the forest, it was silvery and winding. And rumored to be used by the goddess Artemis herself.

It may seem an odd thing to add. However, that was not just a random bit of gossip. My best friend was the only one who knew my deepest wish: to join the Hunters of Artemis.

They were an elite group of young women who fought by the goddess’s side, immortal lest fatally wounded in battle. Fearless warriors who sought to maintain balance and lived off only their wits and abilities. The only condition was to vow against romance of any kind. I was fine with that.

Theseus would never tell me this to give me false hope. He knew I wanted this too badly to make light of it. No, he was saying there was a chance they may help me or, better yet, prove myself and join their ranks.

It was time for me to flee. I thanked him for his help and friendship, wished him well, and gave him a fierce hug. Then, I took off for the woods in the dawning light.

🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙

So, that is how I got here. But there is still a long way for me to go.

I have found the river and tracked it for miles. Days. At first, I tired quickly. But my instincts drove me on.

It may just be wishful thinking, but I believe I am receiving help. When I lose my way, a path leading back to the stream seems to appear in the dense undergrowth. If I hesitate at a fork in the stream, a wind seems  to push at my back to guide my direction.

Perhaps it is a coincidence. But I don’t think so. It feels like destiny, hanging in the air just ahead of me. Or, dare I hope, divine intervention. Maybe someone on Olympus wants me to succeed.

No. No, it’s preposterous… isn’t it? I shook my head.

One foot in front of the other, Theia, I thought to myself.

Things were getting harder as I went. My cloak tore on the branches. I was running out of rope.

Alas, I have no choice but to persevere. I know that it will soon be the day of the festival, which the king and queen throw each year before they send innocent children to their death in that Labyrinth with the Minotaur.

I thought I was deep enough in the woods, but I could hear the commotion of muscular village men setting up. I trekked on faster, before I was noticed and really had to make myself scarce.

If I were to be caught at any time before the Minotaur had finished the last of them off, they would cast me in as dessert. That’s when I realized something huge.

I could never return home. Ever. They may forgive my family’s debts if we sent in Theseus as a replacement. In fact, our father’s misdeeds may be forgotten entirely and my family would be left alone. For good. But if I was caught…

It would stir up bad memories. They would remember and we would never be trusted again. Our family would be ostracized, banished from all dignified society. Or worse.

No time to dwell on the bad. I would just have to escape the island and start a new life elsewhere. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was thirteen years old. How could I possibly do all of that? Completely alone, to boot. It was all too much. I sank to the ground in utter despair.

I sat in a cluster of rushes and my eyelids began to flutter. I finally understood just how exhausted I was. I’d walked for days without rest. Just a short nap, I thought, seeing that the light was fading.

As I lay my head on a soft patch of ground, I raised my head to look at the sky one last time. The first star, the one guiding me North each night, had appeared. I sank back to the ground.

And as my eyes closed, I could almost swear the rushes were enshrouding me from the sky. Maybe I was not so alone after all.

☁ ☁ ☁

Wake.

My eyes shot open. “Who said that?!” I cried out in alarm. I was confused to hear my own voice echo faintly.

I looked down to see… myself. I was right there, still wrapped in the rushes. But I was also standing here, alert, while looking at a self who was not standing and alert, while I… Nope. I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

The same voice chuckled. Calm, little hero. You are safe.

I realized that I trusted this mysterious woman’s voice, whoever it belonged to. I responded,

“Wh-who are you?”

She laughed again. All in good time, child. You will understand everything when you are ready, Theia Rue.

My eyes began to tear up. Only my father had called me that. Did she know him, I wondered.

Your father was a good man, but you show greater promise than he ever did.

“You… you know what I’m thinking?”

Of course. I know everything about you, Theia, and I delight in the strong warrior you are becoming.

☁ ☁ ☁

I woke with a jolt, two important things abundantly clear. First, that I was receiving divine aid. And second, I was following the wrong river!

Η Προσπάθεια: I Prospátheia: The Trying

Woah.

That was all I thought when I saw it. I had finally found the stream I was supposed to be following. In reality, it was more of a small river. The water flowed the color of liquid silver. I stare in complete awe.

I had faced steep widowmakers, poisonous plants, and a near-fatal encounter with a hungry bear (thank the gods I had one more stick of mink jerky). Regardless of it all, the sight of the river was well worth the struggles it took to get there.

I look for any sign of trouble. Not seeing any threats, I approach the stream very cautiously.

I began to reach out my cupped hands to get a drink, but suddenly pulled up short. If this brook really was used by the gods, it may not be safe for mortals to drink. But it had been such a long time since I had a drink. Suddenly, my throat felt more parched than ever. Maybe just a small drink would be safe…

I quickly scoop some river water into my mouth. I tense my whole body, waiting forー whatever it was that happened to humans who consumed what the gods forbid.

So little is known, it could be anything. Spontaneous combustion? Madness? A slow, painful transformation into some hideous beast?

I was wracked with an uncontrollable shiver. It’s starting! I thought in a panic. I give myself a once-over as I try to determine its effects. Blood roars in my ears. I begin to panic. What is happening to me?!

🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙

I had eventually regained my wits. I had gotten colder because a breeze began blowing off of the stream. It was only my nerves that had increased my heart rate so dramatically. I was fine. Surprisingly, nothing had happened at all.

As I sit on the banks, something out of the ordinary catches my eye. The faintest hint of a boot print. I had noticed earlier that the ground seemed tamped down along the water’s edge, but I had thought it was a deer trail or something of the sort.

Instead, it looks like someone was trying to walk lightly so as not to leave a trace. They would have succeeded, too. If they had stepped a centimeter farther from the riverbank, they would have stayed on the firm path. As it was, I knew this part of the woods was not entirely forsaken.

I begin to look for a second print, when I notice something about the first track that stops me in my own. A symbol. Could it be? Yes, it was there. Just a small imprint in the sole.

The mark of the Hunters of Artemis!

Filled with a renewed energy, I eagerly followed the direction the foot was headed. Whoever it belonged to must have been following this trail! Even if I couldn’t see if they left the path or not…

I walk on, face close to the earth. Not a single boot print. If the first one was not so distinct, I could almost believe I imagined it. Almost. Then, I see a different kind of track that excites me just as much.

There were deer nearby! The freshness of the sets of tracks showed that there were five, maybe six, of them by the river’s edge less than a day ago. My stomach is growling. I have not eaten much for nearly three days. They must still be living nearby, as I note older prints of the same size close to the newest ones.

I resumed following the path, this time intent on discovering the deers’ whereabouts. My mouth waters at the thought of so much food. Enough to keep my stomach full until I escape Crete, surely! I keep my eyes glued to the ground, chase every zigzag and sudden stop those deer have made.

I even find edible plants they have nibbled on and try a few. Bitter, but filling. With my bare hands, I dig up some tubers. They can tide me over until I find those fat, delicious deer!

Unless someone, or something, gets to them first, I realize in alarm. No, no, no, no, NO! As the sun begins to sink under the horizon, so too does my heart.

There are large tracks, likely belonging to a wolf or some other wild dog, now following along the deers’ trail. Their pace quickens, paws and hooves alike making bigger and bigger strides as they fight for life. Then the wolves’ paw prints disappear, their final marks deep. They jumped on the deer and killed them. I can see where their bodies landed in the dirt. No way that hungry pack let even one of their prey escape.

I sigh in despair. Then, an even worse thought hits me. How long have I been walking? Surely I would have reached the shore by now… How many days did I lose? Am I going the wrong way? And, most importantly, Where in Hades am I??

🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙

While I decide it is safest to continue following the brook, I am still unsure of both my location and destination. All rivers and streams, every body of water on the whole island, lead to the ocean. After many twists and turns, I’ll eventually get there. But that begs the question, What then? When I see water and sky meet a thousand kilometers ahead of me, what will I do?

I could build a raft, or even a boat. It is another thing entirely to make a seaworthy vessel and sail it to the mainland. Not that I even know how to get there once I reach the open ocean.

Was I doomed from the start? It must be an ill-fated journey, because I have no idea how I ever expected to successfully pull this off. On the other hand, if I go back, then sure, I’ll be alive, but for how long? The king will kill my friends and family for my escape, whether I had a labyrinth replacement or not. It was utterly hopeless.

Then, of course, things got even worse. The stream forked. And I haven’t a clue which way to go.

Η Επιβράβευση: I Epivrávefsi: The Rewarding

I probably cried for hours. A thirteen year old girl (surely fourteen by now, though Time is a beast I no longer know) alone and without hope. Theia Rue, you will die today, I think with a hollow certainty.

No food. No shelter. Plenty of water, but that caused me the most anguish of all. Left or right. It feels like I am in a Roman Colosseum and they just asked me in what gruesome way do I wish to die. No matter what I choose, I will starve before I get anywhere. Cruel Fates.

Another wave of weeping hits me, hot tears spilling into the accursed stream below me. I sob for Theseus, who is surely dead by the hands of the Minotaur by now, him and all the other innocent kids from villages on the mainland.

I cry for the family I may one day see again, but even if I could, Mother would be dead of age and only Atticus had a slight chance to recognize me. Still that was better than their agonizing deaths if I had stayed. Oh, a double edged blade cuts twice as deep.

I weep for my late Father, that gentle giant, for none of this would have happened if he had stayed away from the executioner’s sword.

I mourn my own death, which is soon to come. Of this, I am certain.

How, pray tell, did I get here, this horrid situation? Why me? Everyone I love will be dead and gone but I will beat them to the Underworld, I am sure.

I gaze into the rippling water, to see the girl who thought she could save everyone. The fool who thought she could make a difference.

But I didn’t see her. In fact, the beautiful woman in the reflection looked not a thing like me at all. Another tear slides down my cheek to splash into the stream, yet something is… odd about it.

I watch the drop fall, as it takes on a yellow luster. When it hits the water, it unleashes a small burst of brilliant gold the color of a bright full moon. I watch the individual drop join a swirl around the otherworldly visage, like a frame made of ichor and honey straight from the heavens itself. I can see each little rivulet of water join the procession. I can manage nothing but to stare in awe.

“Hello, little hero,” the woman says in a gentle voice. The same one I heard speak in my dream all of those nights ago. “You have done well. I see you continued your journey, without any help from me, might I add. For it was really your instincts that have guided you. Only the strongest women I have met can manage this.”

One word finally escapes my still lips. “Artemis.” It wasn’t a question.

“You are stronger than you think, Theia. You must not lose hope.”

“B-but,” I stammer. “It’s impossible. I can’t do it.”

“Now, now. Surely you know, as all good Greeks do, that nothing is possible for those the gods favor.”

“Favor? Why would you favor me? I’m a nobody. I can’t even find my way out of the woods.”

“Why tell yourself these lies? It is of no use to you. You have a brave heart and a strong spirit, child. You have the utmost potential. I know you can get out of this place. You have the skills to. How else could you find a campsite of the Huntresses not a day after we moved on? Look down.”

I see tents had been pitched in the clearing. Those large paws from earlier criss-crossed dozens of boot prints that looked just like the one I had seen upstream.

“But… How? Why?”

“Those are questions you must answer for yourself, Theia Rue. Be warned, however, young hero, and stay alert. Even now, the King’s men hunt for you. Now you must escape this island. When you do, you will find us in another wood, not far past the shores you land on. There you can join the ranks of the Hunters of Artemis.”

“Not if?” I asked.

The image of Artemis swirling in the stream shakes her head and smiles. Her visage begins to fade away. In a panic, I yell for her to wait, though I know it is no use. I did not want her comforting presence to go.

The water that had swirled in liquid gold and defied the current just moments before now slips downstream once more. I chase it.

🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙 🙚❊🙙

I hop back and forth across the currents below, not letting the glowing strip of light out of my sight. I know it is guiding me, through bend and fork without ceasing.

I keep running even as I tire after what feels like an eternity of sprinting. I take a sharp left at the fifth fork I pass, following the otherworldly rivulet. Suddenly, the golden water arcs into the air before disappearing into the depths.

My heart sinks until I realize I must not need its guidance anymore. I take off again, and the tree roots and undergrowth seem to part before me. Not that I notice it, flying like I will never see overmorrow. I break out of the brush, tumble down a short bluff, and land in cool white sand.

When I regain my bearings, I shake out my braid to loose the sand and twigs it has undoubtedly collected. I jump to my feet. I made it. I made it to the shore! I whoop with joy before remembering I’m a fugitive. I freeze in fear, keeping my eyes and ears open for threats. Deeming things safe, I huddle low in a sand drift as white as snow, just in case. I don’t know if there are any towns nearby this secluded cape.

That is when I see it. An old, abandoned fishing boat. Maybe I’m getting a little help from some friends up on Olympus after all.

Τα Νέα Ξεκινήματα: Ta Néa Xekinímata: The New Beginnings

It wasn’t easy to fix the boat. However, it was well worth it to escape just in time. The last few days of repairs had gotten tense. I had heard angry nobles and their sons searching for me on horseback. Their voices got louder and closer every day.

When the little ship was finally seaworthy, I almost didn’t launch it. I need to test it, but I fear they will discover me if they hear it being launched. Late one afternoon, I see a tall, bald man riding a mare as I peek over the bushes and decide to risk it. It is now or never.

The second I move from my hiding spot, he sees me. I am confused when he turns his horse and runs away from me, but understand what he is doing all too soon.

He rallies his fellow searchers and they come for me right as I get to the boat. I push it with the strength of the desperate, a brute force to rival Heracles. I launch the boat not a second before the men hit the sand.

I dive into the sea, not even thinking about how I’d never learned to swim. Let a sea monster eat me for all I care, just don’t let them capture me.

Their hoof beats sound like the thunder of the first summer storm Zeus sends in his insatiable wrath. I swim even harder, with skill I never dreamed of. My head hits the hull, adding to the pounding in my ears. I climb aboard and lie on the deck, trying in vain to catch my breath.

I roll my head to the side to see if I am being followed, but apparently they do not know what to do next. They argue and swear. Still no one comes for me.

I think about my family one last time as the sun sets on Crete, my home for fourteen years (my whole life!). The island shrinks and fades in the distance before disappearing into the horizon. Deep down, I know I have made the right choice.

🌊🌊🌊

I reach a foreign shore after eight nights and seven days on the water. Miraculously, I found some edible food in the hold to tide me over until I saw land again. I don’t know if it had stayed good since the ship was abandoned or if some deity was sending their aid. I find a part of me wishing for the latter.

I wash up just before dawn after the eighth night. A pale rose glow starts up on the Eastern horizon. Remembering Artemis’s words to me, I begin to trek into the dark and foreboding woods. I take nothing but Father’s bow.

Though I do not know where I am going, my feet appear to guide the way. Once more, and for the last time, the forest parts for me. Dozens of animals line up along the newly forming path that seems to disappear behind me. Each creature stares at me, an intelligent gleam behind each set of beady little eyes.

While I certainly should feel some unease at all that occurs, I do not. After a while, I arrive at what my gut, my instincts, are telling me is my destination. The moment I step into the clearing, a thousand candles alight instantaneously.

Dozens, maybe even hundreds of women, emerge from the forest. Some drop from trees to the ground. Others move to lower branches or stalk forward along the ground. They study me but carefully avoid making eye contact. Their ages range from eight to twenty-five and every single one of them wears clothes as silver as beams of the moon.

These were the Hunters of Artemis.

They all snapped to an erect position, bows drawn but pointed at the ground. For Artemis, goddess of the moon, childbirth, archers, and the hunt, was emerging from the forest. And the entire forest went silent. She spoke in a benevolent yet commanding voice:

“Step forward.” I did.

“Theia, daughter of Sebastian, and warrior of Crete,” she looked me in the eye as she spoke. I nodded when she paused.

“You have proved yourself a worthy candidate to join the ranks of the Hunters of Artemis. I believe your character and skills would make you a beneficial addition to this band of elite huntresses. And so, do you, Theia Rue, accept the call of the forest, forswear all romantic endeavors, and pledge your loyalty to the Hunters of Artemis as a dedicated warrior for eternity, lest you break your oath or sustain fatal wounds in the heat of battle?” This was it. The moment of truth.

I take a deep breath and do not hesitate to say, “I do.”

“It is done!” she proclaims. The other women have shouldered their bows and begin to applaud.

One approaches me and says, “Congratulations. You are now forever 14, but don’t worry. We’ll keep you busy.”

“Will I still get to know what happens in the outside world?”

She sighed. She knew what I was really asking. “It is hard to see your loved ones pass, but you should know that Theseus is alive.” My jaw dropped. Another huntress chimed in:

“He killed the Minotaur and…” she glanced around, snorted, and looked me in the eye with a serious face, but broke down laughing.

The first young woman finished, saying, “He has taken a lover.”

That did not strike me as his personality, but I shrugged.

“He can live his new life however he wants,” I said. “I’ve got my own path to follow.”

Το Τέλος. To Télos. The End.