《The Devil that None Knows》


 Chapter 1: First Blood Baptism

    AN: The story will be a bit slow at first, and not much dialogue, but I hope you will continue reading :). Will also attempt to release at least one chapter a day.


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    Chapter 1: First Blood Baptism


    Names are an intriguing concept. It can shape us, or we can shape it.  It can hold power over us, or we can hold power over it. Knowing in itself is a powerful thing.


    And I have been called many names.


    The Dark Prince, the Blood Father, One of Conviction, the Feared One, the Reviled One, the Accuser, the Enemy, the Sin-Bearer, the Betrayer, the Ruler and the Seducer.


    Some of the more poor names I have been called were the Impaler of Innocents, the Dark Bastard, and the Devourer.


    -The Devil that None Knows


    His index finger curled outward ever so slowly until it was made into a sharp point. Hunter pointed toward the dark-furred critter, his eyes glinting with a poorly hidden amusement.


    ¡°Kill it.¡±


    I stood behind Hunter with a small spear in my hands. And although I call the spear small, it was slightly taller than me. But compared to the spears which the true Hunters of my tribe wielded, there could really be no comparison. The spear was of poor quality. Not so sharp as to be able to hurt oneself with it. But sharp enough to kill. It would be deadly in the hands of an expert.


    Not so deadly in my hands¡­


    I looked at the dark-furred critter, a Bigger Ronat, with grim determination, then looked back toward the half-naked form of Hunter.


    As his name suggested, he was the Hunter of our tribe. His original name had not been Hunter to begin with. Hunter only had been given his name due to having taken over the position of the former Hunter. His status in the tribe was important. He was the lead Hunter and the trainer for the newer generations of Hunters in the tribe.


    Looking at his naked back and the imposing manner in which he stood, I knew that Hunter was truly formidable. On his back, along his spine, there were small black ridges growing that led from his waist to just short of his neck. These black ridges were also found on his forearm. His hair was of a midnight color, its length reaching below his broad shoulders. Finally, there were the swirling black runes marked onto his back, extending outward from the middle of his back all the way to embracing his forearms and then coming back toward to his chest.


    And although his manner was imposing, Hunter waited patiently for me to start. The patience, no doubt, stemmed from years of patiently awaiting his prey, lurking in the hidden shadows.


    I looked toward the Bigger Ronat. Some small doubts swirled in my mind. The critter was almost as big as me, who had already passed basic Hunter training and was finally three and a half years old.


    Hunter and I were both in the Ronat dens. Our tribe bred these critters for their fur, blood, and meat. The Bigger Ronats, the ones that were rarely born, were used as training and to see if one could really become a basic Hunter. It was the test of first blood.


    The Bigger Ronat, if I had to describe it using familiar terms, was a cross between a rabbit and a sheep. It had the body of a rabbit and the slightly elongated face of a sheep. The sounds the Ronats made were also similar to that of a sheep, though their voices were deeper. Its body height, on its four limbs, came close to three feet.


    Grasping the hard wooden spear in my right hand firmly, I proceeded toward the Bigger Ronat. My eyes met its pair of golden eyes rimmed with a slightly black hue. The Bigger Ronat only awaited for me, its eyes as if daring me to come attack him.


    I took a step forward and still the Ronat did not move even an inch, let alone a foot. I pressed on and there was left only a gap of six feet between the two of us. Then I charged at it, using the momentum to proceed into a lunge, with my right foot stepping forward.


    My spear went straight for its head. It was a sudden strike called the Snake Flight. Hunter had warned me of its disadvantages and advantages. The advantages laid in the suddenness and the deadliness of the move. If the lunge missed, however, it would leave an easy opening that anyone or in this case, any beasts, could take advantage of.


    The Ronat easily dodged my spear. It diagonally jumped leftward, almost like a spear traveling outward. Startled by how fast the Ronat was, my eyes could barely catch its movement. It was my first time fighting a Bigger Ronat and I had underestimated the creature right from the start.


    Then all I could see was a dark-furred blur before I lost all balance. A stinging pain exploded outward from my face, and a loud smack resounded in the Ronat den I was in. When I regained my bearings, I could see that I had fallen onto the sparsely grassed, earthen floor of the den.


    I looked at the Bigger Ronat, who merely glanced at me from a distance as if I was a small pebble on the ground. I knew that the only reason I had been saved from further onslaught of attacks was due to Hunter releasing an Intention that was full of bloodlust.


    Even though the bloodlust Intention was not directed toward me, I could feel it as if it were a cold chill in my spine. I almost wondered at how the Bigger Ronat was feeling, who was bearing the full brunt of the bloodlust Intention.


    Then embarrassment hit me.


    I realized that I had just been slapped in the face by the Bigger Ronat. Furthermore, to pour more kindling into the blazing fire that was my embarrassment, I saw that in my fall, I had released my grip on the wooden spear. It was a fact that was not lost upon me. Neither was it lost on Hunter, who I sneaked a glance from the corner of my eyes.


    Never lose your weapon. It is your heart. Your hands and feet. You wield in your weapon your own life and the lives of others.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I could almost hear the words Hunter had repeated over and over during training in my mind. Each word was like a resounding strike of thunder and shame.


    Hunter glanced at me, and in his dark, red eyes there was that dull glow of amusement. It felt as if he was looking down on me, but I knew that was not the case. Hunter treated everything with this sort of dull amusement. He was like the wind, embracing life with a carefree attitude.


    Hunter looked toward the spear. It was a silent communication with his eyes, but I knew that he wanted me to pick it up and try again.


    My hand gripping on a tuff of grass, I stood up with just the slightest difficulty, mostly due to my embarrassment. Like other children of my tribe, I had a sturdy body so a kick or three was nothing.


    Even as I picked up my spear, I watched the Ronat, who had now transformed into an ugly monster. Of course, that reality was only in my mind, for the Ronat, at this moment, was what stood before my goal of truly becoming a basic Hunter trainee.


    Once I took a proper stance, I no longer felt the bloodlust Intention surrounding me. The Ronat was also no longer frozen in place from the overwhelming bloodlust.


    The Ronat, perhaps still feeling threatened, did not move upon seeing me pick up the spear. The creature, instead, ignored me and warily glanced at Hunter who was moving away to allow me space. I felt anger and shame. Most of it shame.


    I swiped at the Ronat, the edge of my spear making a horizontal cut. The Ronat dodged it easily. I pressed forward, not giving it time. I entered into Small Whirlwind, my hands holding the shaft of the spear closer. The spear blade, though of poor quality, was still sharp enough to tear into the fur and flesh of the Ronat.


    The feeling of resistance as the spear made a small cut on its body was an indescribable feeling. The scent of blood entered my nose. Sweet, almost nauseating. The blood of a Bigger Ronat was of superior quality compared to the normal Ronats.


    The creature made a roaring ¡°bah¡± sound. Its pair of eyes glittered with golden rage, and the surrounding black hues of its eyes almost seemed as if it became a writhing darkness, alive and growing.


    The Ronat did not have a monstrous or horrific appearance.


    Nonetheless, its eyes¡­


    They startled me. I was anxious. Never had I received a look of such hatred and anger before. True, I have had some slight brawls with other children my age. But none of these brawls had ever escalated into such enmity.


    That slight second of hesitation was costly. I felt a smack resound against my chest, the force of it making me take two steps backward. This time, however, I still held onto my spear. That at least was something of a condolence. Then I regained myself quickly just in time to see a jumping head-butt from the Ronat.


    Right then, I knew that it was an opportunity. My two hands moved quickly. I relied on my natural reflexes which had been further honed by two years of basic spear training. With a two handed grip on the shaft of the spear, I moved it slightly upward diagonally.


    The Ronat did the rest of the work.


    In midair, unable to dodge, the creature met the point of my spear. I felt a much harder resistance this time, and a spray of blood dyed the fur cloth I was wearing into a deeply scarlet hue. I felt a wetness on my neck.


    The creature let out a weak moan and the glow of hatred in its eyes were fading ever so slowly, as if the previous enmity had been all but an ephemeral reality. Still, the Ronat struggled violently, its limbs thrashing here and there, one of them even almost reaching me.


    It was a struggle to the death and I recognized its instincts screaming out.


    Survive! Survive! ESCAPE! LIVE!


    The struggle of the creature that was by now more than halfway pierced through the shaft of my spear lasted only a few seconds. But to me, it became an unceasing nightmare that almost seemed like minutes.


    Even if it was on its death throes. Even if it was losing blood and already more than halfway into the embrace of the death, my spear somehow felt heavier. It was an impossibility which I wondered in my amazement. My horror stricken amazement.


    Should it not be losing weight as its lifeblood drip down onto the bottom end of my spear, slowly cocooning my hands into that of a scarlet mess, then further soaking the ground red?


    And though I, along with others my age, wielded strength that could carry the Bigger Ronats which weighed more than us¡­at this moment, I could barely carry it. Finally, I could no longer seem to be able to hold my spear in the position in which I had killed the Ronat.


    I let my spear fall, the point of the spear soon touching the red, earthen ground. The shaft of my weapon, slick with blood, easily allowed the body¡ªno, corpse¡ªof the Ronat to touch the floor. It, however, remained fixated upon the end point of the spear. It was if the creature was still clinging onto life, though I knew it was already dead.


    I felt a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Remember this, Wolf Under Stars. This is the weight of death. The heaviness of life,¡± Hunter said from beside me. I had not even noticed him come closer toward me.


    His words freed me from my fixation on the corpse of the Ronat.


    ¡°Does it ever get easier?¡± I asked.


    Only silence greeted my question.


    After Hunter skinned the Bigger Ronat, and packed its meat, fur, and blood, we left the Ronat dens.


    Then the silence was broken by Hunter¡¯s sudden voice. And in his eyes, there was still that ever dull amusement.


    ¡°That¡­you can only find out yourself.¡±

 Chapter 2: The Arts of the Blade-Spear

    Chapter 2: The Arts of the Blade-Spear


    It never gets easier¡­the taking of lives, that is. Some find it easy, withdrawing into their shells or forgoing all emotions. Me? I find it hard even now¡­although there were times when I was truly broken, and lived in the darkest of the abysses. It was those times that I truly fit the mold of the names I had been given.


    -The Impaler of Innocents


    After I parted ways from Hunter, I went back to the section of our village where the children who were three to six years old lived. It was saddening, I realized; I was one of the last member of the Hunter children who were around my age to have passed the basic Hunter training and the First Blood Baptism.


    Making my way through the village and greeting some of the tribesmen and tribeswomen I met, I entered the Caretaker Section, which was adjacently located next to the Under-aged Section.


    ¡°Greetings, Wolf Under Stars.¡± From the warmth of the voice, I knew that it belonged to Grandmother Moon Bird.


    Turning around, I stretched my right arm out before folding it toward my chest. It was the gesture of respect to an elder of our tribe. In truth, although Grandmother Moon Bird was not my true grandmother, she was the one who had taken care of me when I had been in the Under-aged Section.


    Thus, in all but blood, Grandmother Moon Bird was indeed my grandmother. Or perhaps even mother, for she still had remnants of her beauty remaining. Time had been kind to her. She had aged well, her figure remaining slim and the two horns protruding from her head still firm and solid.


    Grandmother Moon Bird made a small smile, which made it seem as if her whole face was glowing. The smile reached all the way to her eyes which glittered with kindness. ¡°My, always so polite, Wolf. And from the look of you, perhaps you have passed the First Blood Baptism?¡±


    I nodded. Her greeting had broken me from my ponderous silence. I wanted to return to it. ¡°I will see you later, Grandmother Moon Bird,¡± I said softly.


    ¡°It is always well to reflect on your first kill,¡± she said with a knowing look and a twinkle in her eyes.


    I was surprised and my surprise must have shown. My face was probably full of obvious disbelief.


    ¡°Hard to believe, eh?¡±


    It was. From the way Grandmother Moon Bird carried herself, I would not have thought her capable of harming even a small bird. Never would I have thought her to be a former Hunter.


    ¡°Perhaps you can even learn a few things from me,¡± she said with a wink.


    Still embarrassed from my blunder, I only quickly nodded. ¡°Maybe next time,¡± I said, declining her invitation. It would do no good for my reputation and appearance with the other Hunter children if I were to learn from Grandmother Moon Bird. I would, at the very least, receive mocking and others of that sort. And perhaps she was not even that good of a Hunter¡­I would need to ask Hunter about that. He would perhaps know.


    I formed another gesture of respect, adding a farewell before leaving Grandmother Moon Bird. From behind, I could hear her soft voice. ¡°How the young doubts the old.¡±


    A blush almost creeped up on me, knowing that she had seen through my thoughts.


    My gait became quicker, as if I had sprouted wings from my feet. From the other greetings I received, I only politely nodded back. A short nod to say that I did not have the time.


    When I passed through the Caretaker Section, I went around the Under-aged Section, which was deemed as the loudest place in our village. The noises of infants howling through the night for blood had left my ears ringing. I almost winced my eyes for the Caretakers who were used to this sort of thing.


    ¡°Greetings, Sister Dance of First.¡± I smiled at the girl with long flowing night colored hair, which was almost reminiscent of the moon dancing in the sky. On top of her head, if I looked hard enough, I could see two small horns that had just sprouted. Tiny, almost unnoticeable.


    In our tribe which was known as the Piercing Moon, there were two races that were part of it, the Demona and the Wraithborn. Dance of First belonged to the Demona, whereas I belonged to both races. I was one of the rarer than rare half-child. In fact, I was the only one in my age group who was a half-child.


    ¡°I told you not to call me sister!¡± She formed a slight pout, which was gone in a split second, soon replaced by another emotion. ¡°Did you pass the baptism?¡± Dance of First asked with no small amount of excitement in her voice. Her large, sheena eyes shined a natural verdant color resembling that of a Moonstalk flower.


    Before I could nod or even answer her question, I was already assaulted by a barrage of questions.


    ¡°Was it fun?¡±


    ¡°Did you have fun?¡±


    ¡°What was it like?¡±


    ¡°Can you also ask Hunter if I can try it?¡±


    I did not felt annoyed the slightest bit from her unceasing stream of questions. Instead, I was thankful. It brought me out from my dark cloud of ponderous silence. Then again, I had grown up along with Dance of First ever since I was an infant howling for blood. I was long used to her curious and playful nature.


    It would also have been unbecoming of me, who had been selected to be a Hunter, to be harsh on her. Dance of First was a little creature adored by most of the Trainee Section where the three to six years old stayed. In addition, she only came up to my chest, unlike her peers who were my shoulder height.


    Then she ceased her questions, her small lips curling into that of a small frown as she looked past me. She groaned. ¡°Ugh, it¡¯s Teacher Prina.¡± She quickly look toward me, her eyes moving upward to meet mine. ¡°I will see you later, Brother Wolf Under Stars. I have to escape!¡± Her frown no longer on her face, she laughed cheerfully and proceeded into a run.


    ¡°I bet that you will get caught though.¡±


    Dance of First gave me another small pout before turning her back and running away with a small laugh. I watched the sight of her running away. Her cheerful form never failed to impress me.


    I was just in time to look backward to see Teacher Prina with a scary look on her face. ¡°You little Demona girl! Just wait until I catch you. I will make sure you stay extra long this time in order to make up for me having to look for you! It is not the teacher that should look for her student, but the student that should come to the teacher!¡±


    Teacher Prina¡¯s voice grew louder as she saw Dance of First running away from her. ¡°That is it, little girl!¡± As the teacher ran past me, her green hair which was tied into a pony tail swinging back and forth, I could hear her chanting in the language of Knowing.


    I recognized some of the words, for I had been learning the language also.


    ¡°Wind. Blessing. Speed.¡±


    It was an enhancement to increase her speed that she was casting. Teacher Prina was a Magus who belonged to the Wraithborn race in our tribe. It was rare to see the traits of magic in the Demona, but Dance of First had it in abundance, even more so than most of the Wraithborn children her age.


    I watched with amusement as Teacher Prina drastically increased her running speed. Her feet was as if they had truly grown wings. It was as if the wind itself was embracing her back, urging her onward.


    As the distance between the two figures grew shorter and shorter, and as the figures of Dance of First and Teacher Prina became further and further, I was left alone in the Trainee Section.


    Seeing Teacher Prina use magic left a small impact on my mind. Having been born with the strong body of the Demona which was suitable to be a Hunter and also having the traits of magic, I remembered that I had to meet with Teacher Embracing Flower in three days¡¯ time.


    I hated becoming both a Magus and a Hunter. In my heart, I firmly wished that I could devote all my time into being a Hunter. But I knew that it was not a possibility. Having to devote time to both Magus training and Hunter training, I was behind in both aspects of training compared to other trainees.


    Then again, I admitted to myself, perhaps it was just my lack of talent.


    With those thoughts, and under the darkening sky with the moon dancing into visibility, I entered the Long House and with a few short greetings to my friends, I was soon under the soft and warm embrace of my fur-covered bed.


    This night, I did not even bothered to practice any techniques with the spear.


    I was tired.


    And my hands were baptized in blood.


    =============


    ¡°Good morning, Hunter,¡± I greeted loudly along with the other Hunters in training. They were mostly three to four years old like me. There were in total eight of us, including me. All of them Demona except for me who was a half-child.


    All of us were half-naked, wearing only black leather pants and fur-tipped boots. It was a sign to show off that we were all Hunters in training. Our bodies were strong and thus we bared our upper chests to Mother Nature.


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    It was a gesture of respect and a token of status in our tribe.


    Under the morning sun, we sat in front of Hunter in a grass-covered clearing near our village. It was safe here as the Hunters of our tribe periodically cleared out any dangerous threats, including the boundaries of the forest nearby.


    ¡°Today, we will practice more forms.¡± Hunter paused as if he was waiting for the ensuing groans of the trainees, but none of us did.


    Although there were a few groans at first when Hunter had first started teaching us¡ªnow, there were none. All of us admired Hunter.


    Who was Hunter?


    He was the strongest fighter in our Piercing Moon tribe. All of the children had heard tales of his prowess in the bonfires that were lit up in our village on extremely successful hunts.


    Hunter continued and I listened intently along with the others.


    ¡°The Arts of the Blade-Spear is an arduous journey. It is like climbing a tall mountain. But even if you finish climbing that mountain, you will soon see another taller mountain, far more grand and mightier than the previous. It takes a lifetime to master the blade-spear, but even then, you should never forget that you are still a trainee with the blade-spear.¡±


    As if we had become children who were younger than three years old, as if we had reverted back to the time we were in the Underaged Section, we nodded excitedly, our hands fidgeting to hold onto the wooden spears which were just beside us. Just a finger¡¯s reach to hold the weapon, to firmly grip and revere it. The life that we could hold with our hands.


    None of us, however, reached for the spears. We would not give Hunter such discourtesy. Each and every one of us were already three or four years old. We were the Hunters in training. We were the most mature out of all our peers. We were the strongest. We would be Hunters.


    ¡°I will demonstrate the forms, and shall add a new one,¡± Hunter spoke in his soft, yet firm voice that reached all of us. In his dark eyes were the usual dull glint of amusement.¡±


    In his hands, Hunter held a blade-spear. It was not just a blade-spear. It was the Blade-Spear. In that weapon were the lives of all the previous Hunters who held the position of lead Hunter. It was fashioned from the wood of an Ever Tree, its hilt and guard made from dragon leather. But most precious of all, the blade of the spear was made from a fallen star mixed with Xeonite.


    Underneath the light of the sun, the blade glistened powerfully with a silvery red hue. From the triangular pointed tip, the fallen star metal curved into that of a graceful blade, reaching almost three feet. And on its other side, was an almost perfect symmetrical look with one exception. In the middle was a serrated edge that made the blade of the spear even more fearsome.


    The serrated edge was made to tear out both the flesh and armor of any opponent. Graceful, yet fearsome. The Blade-Spear truly deserved the name of Cruel Moon Piercer.


    It was nothing like the weapons we had. Our weapons were merely wooden shafts with crude metal affixed into a triangular point. There was nothing like a blade to call it a blade-spear. Instead, it was just a normal spear.


    We did not deserve any blade-spears yet. We had not even learned the Arts of the Blade, nor even begun to become decent in the Arts of the Spear, let alone the Arts of the Blade-Spear.


    Like always, Hunter started out in the Guarded Stance, rather than the Assailing Stance. His knees were crouched slightly lower than one would be in the Assailing Stance, and the spear was slanted upward, more toward the center of his body, and just a touch away from neutrality.


    He seemed as if he was an immovable mountain.


    In less than a blink of an eye, Hunter entered into Snake Flight. My eyes trailed after his blurred movement, and my pair of eyes narrowed, as if I could see through his movements. But that was not reality. I could not even see through his movements.


    Immediately after Snake Flight, Hunter blurred into Small Whirlwind, then into Big Whirlwind. Then a beautiful arc, so swift I could only catch the ending. It was Half Circle, used for defensive movements and for testing your opponents. Even this far away, I felt the scattering of the wind made from the forcefulness of the spear, of his strength.


    Executing more and more movements, and repeating the series of movements, Hunter continued his exercise before finally adding a new form. On the balls of his feet, Hunter made a small pirouette, before gathering all the utilized energy and extending Cruel Moon Piercer outward. His body angled decisively, the spear lunged forward and his grip shifted until only one hand lingered near the guard.


    I knew that Hunter purposefully went slowly in executing this form, so that our eyes could follow his movement, but even then, I felt a rush of wind. But more so, my blood rushing in excitement, all dark thoughts of how I had killed the Bigger Ronat wiped from my mind.


    Still, looking at Hunter at the end of the execution of this new form, I¡ªno, all of us¡ªwere filled with eagerness, our blood boiling for a release. Almost the whole fearsome eight foot and a half tall length of Cruel Moon Piercer was extended outward in that lunge. It was a killing strike, made more so fearsome by the glinting silver-red weapon, which was more than one and a half foot taller than Hunter.


    Hunter stood upright, blade-spear in one hand, his breath not even the slightest bit hard-pressed. ¡°This form is known as Kiss of the Lunging Moon. Be cautious in executing this form, for you will overextend yourself even more than Snake Flight or Charging Boar. Only use it if you are sure you can kill your opponent or prey in one decisive move.¡±


    ¡°Not few Hunters have died from overextending themselves with Snake Flight, Charging Boar, or Kiss of the Lunging Moon. They were instantly killed by the more formidable beasts of the wild. And also by the Dreads.¡±


    All of us took on Hunter¡¯s grave somber. The Dreads were ferocious opponents, little better than the beasts of the wild. They gave no mercy. Not even a thumb¡¯s worth to each other.


    We had all heard of how the Dreads painted the villages red with the blood of other tribes and races that lived far away from us. They would paint the village square scarlet, desecrating it, before razing it to the ground with a blazing fire. Blood on the stones. Blood on the ground. Blood on the corpses. The Dreads would paint the world red with blood if they could.


    Reverting back to his usual face of neutrality only broken by a slight carefreeness, Hunter said, ¡°You may start practicing now.¡±


    The fires burning in our hearts and blood of our bodies, we grabbed at our wooden spears and began practicing fervently. I was no exception to this so caught up was I in the atmosphere of the small clearing we were on.


    Throughout the rest of the morning, Hunter helped fixed many of my forms, making them more natural. I, of course, was not alone in this.


    At the end of the day, though, I was still annoyed by the fact that Hunter spent the majority of the morning hovering close to me. The annoyance did not lay in Hunter. No, it laid with my poor spear handling. I was ashamed of the fact that I was the poorest out of the trainees.


    The next two mornings passed by routinely with Hunter correcting our forms.


    In the afternoon, I would drink the blood of a Ronat and dine on the flesh of a boar. We trainees chose to follow the dining habits similar to the Hunters. We ate the raw flesh and blood of beasts, uncooked and unseasoned. We gave our thanks to Mother Nature. Then we poured a few drops of blood onto the earthen floor.


    The rest of the afternoon would then be spent doing some chores. I had gotten an exception yesterday afternoon due to taking the First Blood Baptism.


    At night, I would train some more with the spear, not partaking in the conversations my peers and neighbors had. I did not even partake in the nightly entertainments and stories.


    My conviction felt strong under the glowing moonlight, as the beads of sweat drooped down my half-naked body. Each movement, each execution of the forms, I could feel myself ever growing stronger. It was slight. It was very slight.


    But then, what else was progress?


    <><><><><><><><><>


    AN: Do not mind the strange terms. They will eventually be explained as the story progresses. That said, hoped you enjoyed it.  And do please point out any mistakes or inconsistencies you see. I will be grateful OTL.

 Chapter 3: Caranathus

    Chapter 3: Caranathus


    It takes a lifetime to master a profession, or anything else. But even after a lifetime, one should still consider oneself a novice. You could, after all, learn something from even a novice. Even now, after many lifetimes, I still consider myself a novice, especially in the Arts of the Blade-Spear. It is from this passionate willingness and a lifetime of mastery that forged my everlasting conviction. An undying spirit is far greater than anything immortality has to offer.


    -One of Conviction


    Teacher Embracing Flower, if nothing else, could only be called beautiful. She had flowing ruby-colored hair that seemed as if each strand of hair was a beloved one of the sun. Her eyes were of passionate fire, complimenting her hair. One would think from her eyes and hair, she would have a wildly tomboyish attitude.


    Instead, she reflected her name. Truly, she fitted the embrace of a flower. She was pleasing, both to the eyes and to the mind. It was said that when Embracing Flower had been born, she had been named Passionate Fire, but the name was such an incongruous one that it had been changed to Embracing Flower.


    ¡°Good Morning, Teacher Embrace,¡± I called out, mustering all the strength I had into my voice. Thinking back, it was a childish display, but then again, I had my faults back then. I was only three and a half years old with a crush on someone who was already seventeen years old. Far, far older than me.


    Her skin was of a white color, comparable to that of a newborn Wraithborn. Like a fleeting cloud one could never get enough of, and further accentuated by the simple black dress she wore. She was the only motivation and encouragement I had in continuing my Magus training.


    She also had the rare feature that was normally not found in a Wraithborn. Teacher Embracing Flower had a white-colored tail that was purer than the whitest of snow. Sleek and smooth.


    Her voice rang out sweetly. ¡°Good Morning, Wolf Under Stars.¡± She tilted her head a little to the side, a gesture which I found tingly to the heart. ¡°Did you pass the test?¡±


    I felt tongue-tied, captivated by her beauty. A few seconds passed by before I could find the will to break free. I coughed once. ¡°No. I mean, yes. I passed it.¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower had an average height for a Wraithborn, but even then, she was still two heads taller than me. I was only three and a half years old, and my height, ironically, reflected the number of my age. Trainee Hunters matured far faster than the other Demonas and Wraithborns, but in the end, we were still children.


    ¡°I am pleased to hear that.¡± Teacher Embrace sweetly smiled.


    With just that one smile, she had bewitched me once more. I felt as if I was enspelled under her magic. I barely managed to say a thank you.


    Teacher Embracing Flower took a deep breath. She looked up the sky, as if searching for something. ¡°Follow me, Wolf Under Stars. Today¡¯s a warm day. And I think you are learned enough to Know.¡±


    I followed Teacher Embracing Flower. She led me through the western gates of the village walls. Along the way, exiting the section where some of the Magus lived, I saw Teacher Prina scolding some of her Magus Disciples or trainees.  Most Magus, however, preferred the word disciple rather than trainees.


    I waved a greeting toward Dance of First and she rolled her eyes back in return. Most likely another form of her pouting toward Teacher Prina.


    The clearing I had trained in yesterday was located near the eastern gates. The walls of the villages were more than ten feet tall, the wood reinforced by a type of commonly found metal called Loden.


    Teacher Embracing Flower called out greetings to the stationed watchmen at the western gates. They returned her manners with wide smiles. No doubt, charmed by her beauty. Teacher Embracing Flower, I knew, had many suitors.


    We stopped short at a field close by that was heavy with the crisp scent of greenery and the pleasant smell of the flowers. She led on a few more steps before stopping short behind a flower with pink petals.


    Humming a little tune which I did not recognize, she bent down, drawing in the scent of the flower. True, the flower had a pleasing smell¡ªI had a sharp sense of smell, one of the many things a Hunter was proud of.  But, the scent from Teacher Embracing Flower was far better. I would never tell her this though.


    ¡°Tell me, Wolf Under Stars,¡± she said. ¡°What is the language of Knowing?¡±


    I frowned a little. There were many aspects to the language of Knowing. It was a question as ambiguous and mysterious as they came.


    ¡°The language of Knowing,¡± I began, ¡°is a language that seeks the heart of the world, the matter of things. To Know is to control. To Know is to believe. To Know is to seek magic. And the right combination of words, sounds, and traits can lead to true magic, spells, enchantments, blessings, and what not.¡±


    ¡°You forget very little, Wolf Under Stars.¡±


    From her tone, I could not tell if it was praise or not. And standing behind her, I could only see her back and her white-furred tail which was dancing to a happy tune which I could not decipher. I decided to maintain silence.


    ¡°The Essences of the world are subtle,¡± Teacher Embracing Flower said, breaking my silence. ¡°True Knowing comes not from mere words, sounds, or traits, but from becoming and through sensing.¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower turned around and stood up. In her opened hand was a small petal that had been taken from the flower. ¡°Open your senses, Wolf Under Stars.¡±


    I heaved a sigh. She was asking for the impossible. Nonetheless, I could only try. To try and fail was better than not trying, Teacher Embracing Flower would always reprimand me.


    I calmed myself, closing my eyes. I looked deep within. There, in the depths of my mind, I found my Surge. This was what differentiated a Magus from the normal people.


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    My Surge was a crudely formed sphere that floated in the midst of vaporous energy called Anima. The sphere, in my mind was small enough to fit my palm. It gave off a black hue, so darkly colored that I almost thought it would be able to devour light itself.


    Seconds passed by, yet my Surge¡ªmy senses¡ªstill did not open. The seconds soon became minutes. Or was it an hour? I grew frustrated.


    Finally, I opened my eyes. I knew when to give up.


    To my front, Teacher Embracing Flower stood still, her face in ponderous silence. She spoke. ¡°It¡¯s been five months since I have become your teacher, and two months since we have started to try to awaken your surge. Seeing no progress with your Surge, I fear we may have to move on to drastic measures.¡±


    Perhaps she saw the worry on my face, as she formed a small smile. ¡°Not to worry, there have been cases of difficulties in many Surge Awakenings. You are not the first.¡±


    I raised my eyebrows at her. ¡°But I am the most difficult, eh?¡± I had read many cases of Surge Awakenings in our village library that catered to the Magus.


    As soon as I said those words, I immediately regretted it. Teacher Embracing Flower was just trying to help me. There was no need to be difficult or dye my words with venom, however small that amount of venom was.


    ¡°I suppose I should have known you would have already read up on Surge Awakenings.¡± She twitched a smile to show that she was not offended. ¡°Perhaps I even deserved that for dancing around the truth.¡±


    Just as I was about to interject, she waved a hand. ¡°No matter. Let us focus on the task at hand for now. We will work on your Surge Awakening tomorrow. I will need to prepare the necessary materials.¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower pulled her opened palm toward me. The palm which held the pink flower petal. ¡°Tell me about this petal.¡±


    I thought briefly upon her statement. There had to be more than that. Teacher Embrace never asked simple questions. Her questions were all tricky as they come. And she was always patient to obtain the necessary answers from me.


    ¡°The petal is part of the flower?¡± I attempted at an answer. Then it hit me. ¡°But now that it is not part of the flower, it is an individual, solely different from the flower.¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower let out a small laughter, a soft voice which was comparable to that of the singing of birds. ¡°You are half-correct, young Wolf Under Stars. The petal, though necessarily no longer part of the flower, is still in some ways, connected to the flower. It has its own individual and associated traits.¡±


    She took a step back. ¡°Watch.¡±


    All of a sudden, I felt a slight tugging at the back of my mind. It was slight. It was gentle. Had I been doing anything else rather than paying attention to the signs, I would not have noticed Teacher Embracing Flower¡¯s Surging.


    Admiration was felt. I knew that only an accomplished Magus could easily hide their Surging from normal eyes. A subtle Surging that was like the gentle wind. And even if I did not like being a Magus disciple, I had to admit, it was admirable.


    Grandmother Moon Bird had taught me many things, among some of which included manners. Most important of all, little life lessons that helped influence my personality.


    The tugging grew stronger, until it felt as if a hand on my shoulders was gently shoving me. In front of me, the pink flower grew noticeable larger and larger. Its stalk became taller and stronger as if the flower had absorbed years of light and rain.


    Steadily, it grew more and more until the flower was almost eye level with me. Perhaps encouraged by this unreal scene in front of me, I inadvertently took a step closer. Closer now, I could smell the aroma of the flower which had grown even more distinct. A pleasant smell that tickled at your nose.


    ¡°This, Wolf Under Stars, is known as Association,¡± Teacher Embracing Flower said. Her voice became softer. More mysterious. ¡°But this is just a mere step toward true Knowing. Through Association, even if one is not learned enough, one can at the very least reach a state called the pseudo-Knowing.¡±


    ¡°Through our Surge,¡± she continued, ¡°we link our Anima, the internal energy the Surge converts from the Essences of the world, to our desired target. And through that link, we can manipulate. And with a true Knowing of our desired target, we can form True Association.¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower winked at me. ¡°For me, my Anima has a particular attraction toward Nature Essences and Spirit Essences. It seems my name falls true. I do have a penchant for embracing flower.¡±


    At her joke, however bitterly sweet, I could not suppress the small grin which must have shown on my face, for Teacher Embracing Flower also grinned back.


    For the whole of the morning, she taught me more about nature than I would ever need to know in my lifetime. In the afternoon, I spent time studying the language of Knowing, how each sound and how each word could have entirely different meanings. Just a slight off-tone and it would result in different meanings.


    I reflected on my morning.


    To think once I had been satisfied just knowing which spot of grass was the best place to take a piss on. And which spot of grass where prey was aplenty.


    The six petaled pink flower, I also learned, was called a Caranathus. It was the symbol for defiance, of strength, and of great mental changes. Another flower with nine petals,  the Aramanthus of its shy red, was the symbol for love found and love lost. Of life and death. A flower that was full of contradictions.


    It was a good morning.


    But it could have been better spent training. Then again, spending time with a woman, especially a beauty, was much better than exercising with sweaty, half-naked Hunter trainees.

 Chapter 4: Surge Awakening

    Chapter 4: Surge Awakening


    Time does not wait for anyone, not even immortals. And regrets are the currency of time. But even time cannot heal the deepest of regrets.


    -The Betrayer


    It was at night that I stood inside a circle of blood. Teacher Embracing Flower, Teacher Prina, and Elder Magus Zelas formed a perimeter around me, each affixed at a point of a triangle around me.


    I felt nervous, especially more so whenever I kept glancing at the circle of blood. The circle was crudely drawn, but Elder Magus Zelas said that it was enough for their purposes. But still, I was nervous. It was my blood they used to draw the circle, after all. And the light that was shed from the wooden torches that were surrounding us made for an eerie look.


    As soon as Elder Magus Zelas had taken enough blood to draw the circle, he had healed me. I was impressed by how fast he had healed me. It was as if he had just snapped his finger and I was healed.


    Adding to my discomfort, I could not go outside of the small circle which only had a diameter of three feet.


    ¡°Let us start,¡± Elder Magus Zelas said in a dry and aged voice. And perhaps it was just me, but it sounded cold also. Magus Zelas was one of the three most powerful Magus in our tribe and was always seen wearing a black robe with a shadowed cowl that almost covered the entirety of his face, so much that I could not even see his eyes. Mysterious and dangerous. That was the feeling I sensed from him.


    Elder Magus Zelas took out a dagger, black as night. Its length was short. Perhaps just about the size of his forearm.  Its hilt was discolored. A pale, discolored whiteness.  By my guess, it seemed to be made out of bone. ¡°Bare your chest, Wolf Under Stars.¡± His voice rang out deeply and the gentle wind of the afternoon almost seemed to grow stronger. More violent.


    My eyes focused on the entirety of the dagger. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see Teacher Embracing Flower giving me an assuring look that said there was nothing to worry about. Teacher Prina, to my left, only looked serious and strict.


    Time itself felt as if it had slowed down as the black dagger traveled toward my chest. How Elder Magus Zelas could even see through from the shadowed cowl of his, I did not know.


    I felt a tugging at the back of my mind, stronger than what I had felt yesterday morning when Teacher Embracing Flower taught me about Association.


    To my surprise, I didn¡¯t flinch even when the warmth of my own blood trickled downward toward my stomach. Neither did I flinch when the dagger made its way across my upper chest. There was a steady flow of blood seeping from the wound the dagger had made.


    I felt as if I had upheld the pride of the Hunters. As if this wound had become the mark of my first battle wound.


    Pain burst from my mind, as if a sharp stake was being nailed through my head. The pain was raw, almost physical. The tugging at the back of my mind also grew stronger. The chanting of Elder Magus Zelas grew louder, his voice growing deeper and colder.


    I recognized some of the words.


    ¡°The blood of kin¡­the Essences of blood¡­Foci¡­prayers to the All Mother and the All Father¡­¡±


    To my sides, Teacher Embracing Flower and Teacher Prina also joined in. All three of them had opened their Surges.


    ¡°Open your Surge,¡± came the cold voice of Elder Magus Zelas.


    I obeyed. Not out of fear, but out of necessity. The pain was growing stronger and stronger. I felt as if there were a thousand spears plunging through my body, skewering me with raw pain. I heard my own whimpers. My shame at not being able to endure this pain was let out. If it was Hunter, I knew that he could have endured this.


    I looked deep within and saw my Surge, the crudely formed black sphere violently shaking in the vaporous energy that was my Anima. I prodded at the sphere, giving it a sense of direction. When it did not work, I directed a mental force at it.


    OPEN!


    The black sphere grew more and more violent. It was as if it had become a whirlpool of malevolence, sucking in everything. My Surge grew noticeably larger as it absorbed the Anima. It became an even darker color, if that was even possible.


    My heart pounded, as if each beat of it would break free from my chest. My blood boiled as if fire itself had been infused with it. My veins had become channels for living fire.


    Then I finally noticed my own screaming. Strange, I had not even noticed when I had started screaming. My screams were so loud, I felt my throat stinging from the exertion. My throat was parched and aching from the rawness of it.


    The pain grew stronger. My blood seemed as if it was serving as fuel for a devouring conflagration. My mind felt as if it was being scraped against a rough stone. My heart was like the thunderous roar of a dragon.


    Then the black sphere that was my Surge exploded into dozens of pieces.


    My eyes grew wide as I looked down my chest. Why was my whole chest and stomach covered with my own blood? I slowly stretched out my arms. They were also covered in blood. I could feel the warmth of it like a fire. The strangely cold wetness of it. On the ground, there was a pool of my own blood, a writhing mass of scarlet liquid.


    My eyes met the sky-blue gems of Teacher Embracing Flower. She held a horror stricken look. She looked at me as if I was¡­as if she was frightened of me. Or was it that she was frightened for me?


    That was the last scene I saw before darkness took me and I laid in a puddle of my own blood, coloring my vision a dark scarlet.


    ========


    I woke up with a slight aching. My vision blurred for a moment before it returned to clarity. My vision felt sharp and crisp. Looking around, I found myself in a room which I recognized as the guest room near the Magus section. The room was plain with whitewashed walls made of wood. At the center, there was a carpet made from the fur of a Ronat. And beside the bed I was in, there was a small wooden stool.


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    I felt weak with hunger, and I could barely move my arms. ¡°Hello?¡± I called out, mustering all the strength I could into my voice.


    I heard the hurried steps of someone. From the entranceway to the room¡ªthere was no door¡ªI saw Teacher Embracing Flower. Her usual flowing red hair fell down to her shoulders in cascades, and her sky-blue eyes were filled with worry.


    ¡°Wolf! You¡¯re awake!¡±


    She hurried toward me, giving me a tight hug. I could smell her scent. Sweet. Delicious. Stronger than before. Her neck was white. Smooth as the finest spear. I felt my breathing grow ragged.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said, my voice weak, and seemingly deeper to my ears. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but everything felt sharper. Keener. ¡°How long?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been asleep for three days,¡± she replied, letting go of her arms around me. I felt saddened when her touch left me. Her face grew thoughtful, more somber. ¡°I don¡¯t know what went wrong with the Surge Awakening. We were doing fine in the beginning and the middle, when near the end, everything went wrong. Your Surge became more violent than we initially expected¡­then it¡­¡±


    She paused, as if choking on a word she dared not say. ¡°It exploded into pieces.¡±


    I winced at her words as they compelled me to relive what happened that night. The fiery pain. The rawness of it. The whimpering and the screaming. The horrified face of Teacher Embrace.


    I closed my eyes. ¡°How is my Surge?¡± My words were blunt. Direct.


    She paused at my question, unsure of how to proceed. ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±


    ¡°Gone?¡±


    Teacher Embracing Flower bit her lip, her small teeth showing. ¡°You are no longer a Magus. I, Teacher Prina, and even Elder Magus Zelas all inspected your body state. We could feel no trace of your former Surge. Neither could we feel any Anima from you.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    Strange, I did not feel much disappointment. There was only a small trace of it. A bitter thought came into my mind. Looks like I truly had obtained my wish of only focusing on Hunter training.


    Teacher Embracing Flower, strange enough, did not give any words of consolation. She remained silence. Perhaps she felt as if words were not enough.


    I shook my head. ¡°It is fine, Teacher. None of it was your fault. No one could have expected something to go wrong. After all, every Magus who underwent the Surge Awakening succeeded.¡±


    ¡°Still, we destroyed a future path you could have taken. Now, the path to a Magus is closed off for you.¡± Her eyes became steady. Hopeful. ¡°You should, however, come visit me every week, so that I can examine the state of your body. Perhaps, just perhaps, we may have missed something.¡±


    I nodded and then stood up to leave.


    ¡°Don¡¯t leave yet, Wolf Under Stars,¡± she called out. ¡°You must be hungry right.¡± She formed a small grin. ¡°A growing boy needs his food. Come to my house and I will cook you something.¡±


    I smiled back. Some of it false. ¡°Sure. But don¡¯t call me a boy. I am a Hunter Trainee. At least call me a half-adult,¡± I joked. This exchange was somewhat of a growing joke between the two of us.


    Thus, I spent some time eating before I went back. Throughout the whole time I was eating, I shrugged off any concerns of my well-being. I had reassured Teacher Embracing Flower that I was fine multiple times.


    Just how much of a lie that was, I would not find out until several years later.


    =========


    The age of six years old was a bittersweet time for me.


    Embracing Flower, no longer my teacher, had become officially married to Hunter. The village was in a festive mood and the ceremony and celebrations went on until the bonfires grew dim against the darkness of midnight.


    With the cover of night, and a gentle, nightly wind blowing against my face, I watched the couple dance together. A Wraithborn and a Demona marrying together was a rare occasion in our tribe, especially when the Wraithborn was a respected Magus and the Demona was the lead Hunter. It wasn¡¯t later until I learned that the reason why all the infants were raised by Caretakers was due to friction between the Demona and Wraithborn in the tribe.


    The two of them had gotten together over the period of weekly Surge examinations Magus Embracing Flower gave me. Hunter had visited me. He did not show it on his face, but I knew that deep down, Hunter was worried. He always worried for all of the Hunter trainees. I was not a special exception.


    One visit had led to another.


    Two and a half years had already passed since my Surge had been destroyed. Teacher Embracing Flower was no longer my teacher, and I was no longer a Magus disciple. All of the Magus had given up upon my case. I was Surge-less. Normal.


    It wasn¡¯t bad or anything like that. There were plenty of Surge-less Demona and Wraithborn in our tribe. It was just¡ªI felt as if I was missing something. My Magus training, of course, continued until all of the Magus had given up on me.


    And on the day Teacher Embracing Flower gave up on examining me, I knew that I was no longer a Magus Disciple.


    Strange, how fate works sometimes.


    My solemn mood as I held onto the cup of Wyvern blood, used for celebratory purposes, was soon interrupted.


    ¡°Why so sad? Are you not enjoying the occasion?¡± Dance of First asked. She was blunt. It was a part of her nature. But then again, I liked her for it.


    I did not reply, and Dance of First no longer asked me again.


    Instead, she simply sat beside me, watching the glow of the bonfire fade to midnight. In silence, she spared me her company.


    I was thankful.


    It was a bittersweet night. A night of a widely-welcomed wedding and a night where all the Hunter trainees would step into real Hunter training.


    I had become a Hunter, and I was no longer the poorest. I was, on good days, one of the best Hunter trainees. I had gotten my wish.


    Silently, I poured a few drops of Wyvern blood onto the ground.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I quietly said to Dance of First under the basking glow of the faraway bonfire.

 Chapter 5: First Hunt (Part One)

    Chapter 5: First Hunt (Part One)


    When I regained my senses, I realized I was standing on a battlefield full of corpses. Some of them looked comical, their hands reaching for the bleary skies full of night-colored ravens. Others, they merely looked as if they were in a deep, restful sleep. The corpses all belonged to the humanoid races, and they were like a sea, stretching for miles.


    ¡°Hero,¡± they had called me.


    From behind me, there stood the legion of invaders dressed in fearsome black armor. They were like a wave of devouring bloodlust, intent on crushing everything.


    ¡°Master,¡± they had called me.


    -The Betrayer


    We stood at the northern gates of the village, preparing for our First Hunt with no supervision. There were ten of us in all. Eight of us, including me, were the new Hunters that had just passed basic training. The other three in our group were the lead Hunter and two other experienced Hunters. There was still some more time to waste before we would arrive at the forest.


    Beside me, Leaping Fox patted his blade-spear like one would do to a dear friend. ¡°Today¡¯s a good morning to hunt, Brother Wolf Under Stars,¡± he said. ¡°I wonder if there will be any sheena to hunt.¡±


    ¡°Too much confidence kills the preening fox, you know?¡± said Brother Eagle Above Skies from behind. He was the oldest of us, seven years old and the leader of our eight newly-made Hunters group. He was cautious, always vigilant. Patience was his thing. Perhaps that was why Hunter chose him to be the leader of our little group. Then again, his skill with the blade-spear was nothing to mock at.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t speaking to you, Brother Eagle Above Skies,¡± Leaping Fox replied, a small grin on his face.


    ¡°Yes. Yes. You should be a little more like the wind, Brother Eagle Above Skies.¡± Little Bird looked on with amused eyes. He was the most carefree out of all of us. ¡°I bet you haven¡¯t even shared kisses with anyone yet.¡± He made a gesture with his hands. ¡°The wind does like to caress.¡±


    Eagle Above Skies gave a short glare. ¡°What does that even have to do with hunting?¡±


    Little Bird shrugged his shoulders, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ¡°You are the oldest, thus you should lead us in everything. Even I have gotten a kiss from a Wraithborn girly. I won¡¯t give you her name though.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s called Mina, and about three years older than Little Bird.¡± The voice came from beside Little Bird. It belonged to Brother Big Bird, the older twin. He was a silent one, only speaking when he wanted to.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    There was a long pause before Little Bird chose to speak. ¡°Someday, big brother, even though you are my twin, I am going to disown you.¡±


    A loud laughter resounded at that. ¡°You always say that, Brother Little Bird, yet you never carry it out.¡± Only six and a half years old, but Brother Big Bear was already six feet tall. He was the largest out of all of us. He was also the one I would never want to get into a brawl with.


    It was a smart decision, considering the fact that I was only five feet tall, and Big Bear probably had about the weight of two Ronats on me. Bigger Ronats.


    He definitely suited the name of Big Bear. Like all the Hunters, we were named after the names of animals, especially ones which reflected our nature. Personally, I wasn¡¯t too sure why I was named ¡°Wolf Under Stars.¡±


    Further behind me were Brother Ronat and Brother Hidden Shade. They were both following in silence. I guessed that they were the silent type, much more silent than Big Bird could be.


    When we arrived at the edge of the forest, Hunter and the other two older ones paused. ¡°Now, this part of the forest, we patrol it almost daily, so I am confident that there are only a few beasts that would be troublesome for the eight of you.¡±


    Hunter nodded to the Demona to his left. ¡°Still, it is best that we remain close by, and also to help you in case of an emergency.¡±


    The Hunter with the blue ridges on his forearm walked forward, handing Eagle Above Skies a small horn, just about the length of a finger. The tool was not to be underestimated though. It had been enchanted by a Magus.


    Eagle Above Skies also received a few more tools. He nodded in response, putting the various tools into a pouch located at his waist.


    ¡°There is no need for me to repeat instructions about your task, is there?¡± Hunter raised an eyebrow.


    We all shook our heads. Our task was to survive in the forest for seven days and seven nights, while bringing back certain parts of beasts and animals to obtain points.


    ¡°May luck fare you well, brothers.¡±


    All of us brothers met each other eyes. We knew how to respond to that. ¡°We don¡¯t need luck, only skill.¡± Then we banged the hilt of our blade-spears onto the ground. ¡°And may luck fare you well also, brother Hunters.¡±


    ¡°Hah, too early for you guys to be saying that to me.¡± Hunter gave a short laugh. ¡°Likewise, I also do not need luck, only skill.¡±


    We parted after that exchange, heading inside the forest. Morning had just turned into afternoon, and the sun was bright overhead. Inside the forest, though, the canopies were thick enough that only slivers of sunlight managed to pierce through.


    Demona, especially the ones suited to become Hunters, had excellent night vision, so we weren¡¯t particularly worried. Following the creed of the Hunters, we also bared our chest to Mother Nature.


    Unlike the older Hunters, we still had not obtained our markings, so our bared chests were plain. We also did not have the ridges on our bodies which would mark us as full grown Demona Hunters.


    My skin was a pale white and my hair had grew longer, its jet-black strands falling past my shoulders, covering the back of my neck. I chuckled to myself.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny, Brother Wolf Under Stars,¡± Leaping Fox asked.


    ¡°Nothing, I was just thinking I should have been named White Wolf.¡±


    The Brothers laughed at that.


    ¡°True, you are the only one with white skin out of all of us. Then again that makes you the special one in our group, eh?¡± Small Bird winked at me. ¡°You could pose for some Wraithborn girlies. Some of their skin are pretty white. I could even accidentally give you a kiss.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Hah, I will go tell your Mina that in the Blooming Section.¡±


    ¡°You would not dare, Brother Wolf.¡±


    When we grew past six years old, the females and the males of our tribe were divided. The six to ten years old would enter the Blooming Section and the males would enter their own. My Brothers and I were all located in the Hunters Section, a separate division of its own, for we matured faster than the others who were our age.


    Once the normal children were past the age of ten, they would each go into sections where their professions were located at. Blacksmithing, Woodsmithing, Tailoring, and all those others. Finally, when they were sixteen years old, they would be full grown adults, each able to enter the Demona Section, Wraithborn Section, or the Mix Section.


    I had not known this back then as a child, because most of these sections had been barred off to me. I had not even realized that there was a division between Wraithborn and Demona. It was a bit saddening to realize, but I suppose the differences between the two races in our tribe could lead to trouble for some prideful individuals.


    After a while of tracking paths, we were deep within the northern forests now. The canopies became thicker, now barely even letting a few shafts of sunlight to enter through. The trees of the forest were majestic emperors. They stood taller than I could possibly see. I had to narrow my eyes so tall were the trees when looking up. The least of the trees, I estimated, were most likely over three hundred feet tall.


    ¡°Ah! Blood of Ronats!¡± Brother Little Bird cursed near the front. His wild kick sent a few stray leaves flying. ¡°What kind of animal piss and shit in a Blackberry bush? I was just about to grab a few too.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­It seems like a good spot to piss in,¡± Leaping Fox dryly said. Blackberries were not one of his favorites. Their taste, he had said, was like the shit of Ronat smeared onto the shit of a Bigger Ronat. Not that I knew what the shit of a Ronat tasted like. I wondered how Brother Leaping Fox knew.


    While Leaping Fox and Little Bird were arguing about the delights of Blackberries, Hidden Shade suddenly stopped.


    All of us noticed the change in his demeanor. Even Leaping Fox and Little Bird noticed. They could get quite serious when the situation called for it.


    Brother Hidden Shade, if nothing else, had keen senses. He could probably spy a Ronat from ten miles away and with a few forests in between as obstacles. I exaggerate, of course, but you catch my meaning.


    I was the second to notice why Hidden Shade suddenly stopped. It was a slight movement, barely imperceptible. I would not have noticed it had I not been looking upward and were it not for Brother Hidden Shade pausing.


    Above the intertwining tree branches of a group of four trees, behind the cover of a foliage of many thick green and brown leaves, there was a leaf that should not have moved as it did. It didn¡¯t obey the rules of nature.


    Immediately after, noticing the two of us looking above the trees, the rest of the Brothers followed.


    ¡°What do you think, Brother Eagle Above Skies?¡± Hidden Shade asked.


    ¡°Probably the same conclusion you reached, Brother Shade,¡± he replied. ¡°Most likely a nest of lightning or sky vipers. The height of the branches and the tree seems likely for that.¡±


    Hidden Shade nodded.


    Eagle Above Skies looked toward the rest of the Brothers, seeing if they had anything to add.


    ¡°Could be a Bristle also,¡± I added. ¡°Those small beasts have a liking for these types of trees. The height also seems right.¡±


    Eagle Above Skies agreed again. ¡°We will act under the condition that the nest could be either a Bristle, sky vipers, or lightning vipers.¡±


    ¡°It is good for us either way,¡± Leaping Fox added with a slight smile. ¡°We have about a two out of three chance of a sky viper or a bristle. Our requirements for the First Hunt include these as targets.¡±


    ¡°Let us start then,¡± Eagle Above Skies said.


    We all knew what to do. We had been taught the ins and outs of hunting various beasts and animals. Each of us went searching and picked up a stone on the forest floor. For me, with my blade-spear held in my left hand, I picked up a roundish rock, just about the right size to fit my palm.


    Leaping Fox frowned. ¡°How come my stone is smaller than yours?¡±


    Little Bird only let out a short laugh. ¡°Simple. That¡¯s because mine is bigger than yours.¡±


    ¡°Ha. Let us compare it then. I dare you to bring out yours.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to contemplate too much to know what my Brothers were referring to. I will give you a hint, though. It was definitely not the stones in their hands.


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    ¡°I bet you that it is a nest of sky vipers.¡±


    ¡°Nah, it is definitely lightning vipers.¡±


    I closed their arguing voices out after that. I looked up at the branches of the group of four trees. They were, more or less, about a hundred feet high or so. Easy pickings. I wasn¡¯t worried about my stone not being able to reach the branches.


    Each of us Brothers, if we chose to, could have easily thrown our blade-spears to that height, with enough force left over to kill anything that stood in the way. But that would have been stupid. The blade-spears were our hearts. Our lives. They were like the mothers we never had, not that we blamed the Caretakers or anything. It was just the way of our tribe. Nothing more, nothing less.


    When our stones hit the branches, they trembled violently, as if a fierce wind had come storming through. From the foliage of green and brown leaves, two green tails with a black tipped spike dropped down. Then they went still. So still that you could not even tell if it belonged to a living creature.


    ¡°Told you it was a sky viper,¡± Leaping Fox said with a winning grin.


    ¡°That was only because you chose first. I had wanted to pick that choice first,¡± Little Bird replied, a dissatisfied look on his face.


    A hand went for the tool pouch around his waist. ¡°It also looks like I will be getting the honor of first blood too.¡± Leaping Fox took out a black hilted throwing knife. It was a beast of a thing, as long as his forearm and almost as thick. Brutal was the word that would come into mind upon looking at the knife. And though it was a brutal-looking weapon, it was perfectly balanced.


    With a poorly suppressed grin on his face, Leaping Fox made a ¡°hmm¡± sound for a few seconds. ¡°Looks like the distance is around a hundred and twenty feet or so.¡± In a five fingered grip, he held the wrapped hilt of the throwing knife. His wrist flickered, almost blurring.


    Almost immediately, the knife traveled outward, cutting through the entire tail of the sky viper. Dark blood dripped below, and the stub of the tail¡ªat least what remained of it¡ªmoved violently in protest after more than two seconds. It was as if the sky viper had not noticed its mutilation.


    That was how clean the cut was. Brother Leaping Fox was the best Hunter among us at throwing knives. If I was to be honest, I would say that his skill with the knives was much better than his handling with the blade-spear.


    ¡°Good throw, Brother Leaping Fox,¡± I complimented, while at the same time readying my blade-spear.


    Sky vipers were dangerous opponents. More so a nest of them.


    The dripping black blood of the sky viper became the signal for the battle. Multiple heads with red, beady eyes protruded outward from the foliage of leaves. They came out of hiding from almost every branch. There were dozens upon dozens of them. Among them, the sky viper that had been disfigured by Leaping Fox dropped toward the ground, a muffled thud resulting from the crash.


    It had lost too much blood, and from the great fall, I could see that the sky viper had lost almost half of its body.


    Little Bird smirked. ¡°Looks like it was just a youngling, Brother Leaping Fox. I think you should have chosen the other tail.¡± His smirk soon turned into a frown, which was then replaced with worried surprise. ¡°Oh dear All Mother. Forgiving All Father.¡±


    Even after dozens of sky viper heads had protruded outward from the foliage to see who had dared to invade their territory, more kept on appearing. By the tens. By the dozens. We watched in horrid fascination.


    Brother Big Bird even deigned to comment. ¡°Pissing Ronat¡­¡±


    ¡°Yar,¡± said Brother Big Bear, ¡°No way we are going to fight that.¡±


    ¡°There is a time and a place to fight. And there is a time and a place to retreat. I think now is the time for the latter,¡± Eagle Above Skies dryly said.


    Leaping Fox cursed. ¡°My knife!¡±


    We fled then. We fled like the wind. We fled as if there was a great dragon chasing us.


    From beside me, I could hear Leaping Fox issuing a myriad of curses. ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit. You do know that was my favorite knife right.¡±


    Little Bird laughed. ¡°Who told you to use your favorite knife, anyway?¡± His laugh was a ¡°heh, heh, heh,¡± almost like a wheezing hyena that had swallowed a sand dune. It was a laugh Little Bird liked to use to great effect. We agreed that it was his most annoying laugh.


    I spared a glance behind me, and almost regretted it immediately. Hundreds of sky vipers were fervently slithering down the branches, and down the thick trunks of the trees. There were so many of them that in some places, the sky vipers were slithering over each other.


    And in the middle of the waves of sky vipers, I saw an entirely red sky viper. It was easy to spot not due to its color, but due to its size. The creature was probably more than thirty feet long. Its width was also no laughing matter. It was most likely wider than two thighs altogether.


    ¡°I thought there was only supposed to be around ten to twenty sky vipers per nest. And that¡¯s including their younglings,¡± Brother Ronat meekly said. He was the youngest of us all, the baby of our group. We were all quite protective of him, especially Brother Hidden Shade.


    ¡°Well, I, for one, will certainly not be going back to count how many are there,¡± Little Bird interjected.


    ¡°Probably over a dozen nests¡¯ worth living in that group of trees,¡± said Hidden Shade. He jumped over an overgrown root while putting a finger to his chin. In the forests, Brother Hidden Shade was truly a natural. It was as if he had been born and raised in a forest. He was also the most knowledgeable about all things related to the forest out of all of us.


    ¡°I saw a red-scaled sky viper. The creature seemed to be leading them. It was also the largest out of the whole lot,¡± I added.


    ¡°Strange, I have never heard of that before,¡± said Eagle Above Skies.


    He looked at Brother Hidden Shade, who merely shook his head. ¡°Neither have I. Probably a queen of some sorts.¡±


    We quickly agreed upon that. After all, it was not as if we could really check it out. We would need to ask Hunter or some other older Hunters.


    Pretty soon, the cacophony of angry hissing from the sky vipers was no longer heard, and we paused to confirm our surroundings. Even in the midst of our retreat, we were always keeping track of the paths we went through.


    It was easy to get lost in these forests. A mistake that had been the cause of many lost lives, Hunter would always remind us.


    Judging from the state of the forest, and the shafts of sunlight that were let through the canopies, it was around midafternoon. Day would soon turn to night in a while. We didn¡¯t need to set up camp yet, however. We still had plenty of daylight left. And even if it was night, we had vision that could see in the dark.


    We looked for the tracks of the beasts we needed to hunt. Not surprisingly, it was Hidden Shade who found the first set of tracks. But it was a shame that the tracks did not belong to one of our required targets for the First Hunt.


    Hunter had given us various targets for our First Hunt. And each of these targets, depending on their difficulties and danger levels, were worth a certain amount of points. To complete the First Hunt, we needed about three hundred points. At this moment, we still had not obtained any points yet. But that was only due to our desire to hunt the targets that would give the most points.


    The next set of tracks were found by me. The tracks belonged to that of a Scylla, a six limbed creature with two heads. It was a dangerous beast, one of the top predators in these parts of the northern forests. For our task, hunting down a Scylla and bring proof of its death would award us forty points.


    For more than an hour, we followed the tracks of the Scylla, which we almost lost when the tracks disappeared across a river. I wasn¡¯t surprised when we found the tracks again more than fifteen feet away from the river when we crossed it. The creature must have jumped. And judging from that, it was most likely full-grown Scylla. That would pose a challenge to us all.


    Another hour of tracking led us to a cave, which we stayed far away from. The Scylla¡¯s sense of smell was not to be underestimated. Just judging from the tracks alone and the distance we needed to take, I knew that the Scylla was a formidable beast. After all, no beast could be this weak if it had such a wide range of hunting territory.


    We conferred for a moment, and all of us agreed that we would hunt the Scylla in the morning. The beast, although most active during the daytime, was the most dangerous during nighttime.


    Setting up camp was simple. We simply found a spot that was far away from the tracks of the Scylla, and in a location where its formidable sense of smell would be hard to reach. The spot, of course, was a distance away from the trees. Camping under trees was a risky venture. No one knew what lived up atop the branches. In addition, we also took the risk of making a campfire.


    The fire was a small comfort, not really necessary, but it would drive the smaller animals and beasts away. But most of all, the annoying nightly insects were averse to fire and smoke. For extra caution, Eagle Above Skies, Hidden Shade, and Big Bear set up a perimeter of small traps and warning bells that would inform us of any invaders.


    It was not foolproof, but it would at least ease the stress on the members of the night watch. For food, we hunted down Ronats which had already burrowed deep down into their dens and Bexans, which also belonged in the small prey category. Bexans were four limbed creatures that were somewhat similar to deer, excepting two features. They had one long horn instead of antlers and their tails were long and flat, almost like a paddle.


    Trust me, Bexans were not to be underestimated. Their paddle tails were hardy and strong. A slap would hurt more than it would from a Ronat. An interesting feature of these Bexans were that the males would propose by slapping the females buttocks with these paddles. Strange, but I wasn¡¯t one to judge Mother Nature.


    ¡°You know, Brother Eagle,¡± said Little Bird, ¡°you could learn something from these Bexans.¡± He took a bite out of the paddle tail of a Bexan.


    ¡°¡­¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know why I do not disown you too, Brother Little Bird,¡± said Big Bird, breaking his usual silence. He was digging into the ears of a Ronat.


    Beside me, I heard Eagle¡¯s soft mutter as six of us, excluding the night watch, went to sleep. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I disown all of you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s cause you love us.¡± The ears of Brother Little Bird was not to be underestimated.


    <><><><><>


    AN: If you find any mistakes or inconsistencies, feel free to leave a comment.  Thanks.

 Chapter 6: First Hunt (Part 2)

    Chapter 6: First Hunt (Part 2)


    Morning came hard and fast. It came in the form of a pack of sheena. Brother Hidden Shade, the last of the nightwatch, shouted us all awake. As soon as his shouts entered my still-blurry thoughts, I heard the sound of traps and the small bells we brought going off. Snarls and growls were the response.


    My hands reached for my blade-spear, which laid always beside me. Every waking moment. Every sleeping moment. I had my blade-spear with me. And had I not been mocked at by my brothers, I would have also taken it with me to bed.


    By the time I stood up, I was already in the Lower Assailing Stance, blade-spear in two hands and my weapon a tad lowered as I crouched. This was the best position to fight against a sheena.


    ¡°How many, Brother Hidden Shade?¡± I called out, my waking grogginess already far, far away. Hunter training had become harsher by the time we hit the age of five. By then, from day to night, we trained daily. Hunter would even sometime ambush us in the middle of the night while we slept in the clearings.


    ¡°I counted twelve,¡± he replied. ¡°Perhaps more. Unlikely, though. A pack of sheena is usually at the most a dozen.¡±


    I nodded, then smiled while confirming the four-limbed shadowy figures that were moving toward us. ¡°Almost two for each of the Brothers then, eh?¡±


    By that time, all six of my Brothers were wide awake and alert. We had our backs to each other, each of us positioned to form a crudely shaped circle.


    ¡°Why does it have to be this early in the day?¡± Little Bird complained. ¡°I just went to bed after trading nightwatch with Hidden Shade.¡±


    None of us had time to respond to his question. By that time, the pack of sheena were already upon us. A shadowy figure leapt toward me, a mass of snarling teeth and claws. I had plenty of time to decide upon my move. Half a second was plenty of time.


    I didn¡¯t go for a lunging strike. To use that on a sheena in the midst of its leaping attack was pure folly. If my lunge missed, then I would be almost fatally injured, if not dead. And even if the lunge was a hit, the vitality of a sheena was absurd.


    Even if it was stuck on the blade-spear, and the weapon was through its head, it could still move for a few seconds, rampaging out a vengeance.


    I entered into Half Circle, slashing out an arc. There were various forms to Half Circle; different arcs could result in defensive measures or assaulting measures. The arc I entered into was a pure slash, almost straight toward the middle.


    I put all my strength behind the blow. There was a satisfying crunch of bones and a responsive half-snarl, half-whimper.


    The sheena hit the ground, hard, the left side of its body half-caved in with a deep laceration. Blood dyed the grass red.


    But even then, the creature still stood up, almost unfazed. This was what made a sheena dangerous. Its vitality, its will to live.


    In my many years of living, only a few creature I have met could live up to a sheena¡¯s relentless vitality. Among these creatures were human men, the ones who had been lauded as heroes. Let me tell you, they were survivors. Their will to live was impressive.


    I didn¡¯t stop to look at the sheena. I was already moving toward it the moment I had smashed it away with a pure slash. From the corner of my eyes, I saw my Brothers entering into similar moves like the Half Circle.


    Brother Big Bear was a work of artlessness. Rather, he didn¡¯t need to put any art into his blade-spear. No, he simply grunted, putting behind all of his fearsome strength into his blade-spear. His weapon went straight through the sheena, splitting it in half. Flesh, fur, bones, vitality. None of it was an obstacle to his strength.


    Brother Big Bird, on the other hand, was a work of art. He was probably the best with the blade-spear out of all of us. When the sheena jumped at him, he merely flung the creature upward further into the air with an underhanded swing.


    Then he cut it right through into the ground with an overhanded swing.


    Not as simple as it looks. But it works.


    I didn¡¯t have time to pay attention anymore after that. These two Brothers were the closest ones to me, so I had an easier time observing their battles from my periphery.


    My blade-spear was about six feet tall, almost a whole foot taller than me. When I got within range, just short of five feet to the sheena I had wounded, I executed Hanging Moon. It was an overhanded strike that smashed into its head.


    The result was a little regrettable. The explosion of blood came close to me, dying my chest red with flowers of blood.


    Luckily, it was just on my chest.


    The scent of blood entered my nose, and I almost growled at its taste. Let me tell you, when your sense of smell is strong enough, you can almost taste the food. Almost. Not quite close. But enough. I speak from experience.


    All of us brothers were in our second stage of growing also. I was no exception. So our hunger was amplified. We were mad for both flesh and blood. Our appearances may not betray our lust for blood and flesh, but our stomachs did. So did our noses.


    Then I whirled around, taking care of the other sheena in mid-leap. I had seen it coming from steps away. From the pivotal force of my whirl, I struck out at it. I came close to splitting the creature in half. It was close. There was probably just half a foot left before I could have cut the body in half.


    My weapon became stuck inside the sheena, the hard flesh of its organs, muscles, and bones hindering it. I didn¡¯t falter. Exerting some strength, I pulled it free, then I put out the lights in it eyes.


    If I was honest, I did not look the beast in its eyes. For some reason, ever since my first kill¡ªthe Bigger Ronat¡ªI had trouble looking into the eyes of the dying beasts. An enmity. A willingness to survive. To live.


    Don¡¯t get me wrong. I could have stared into its eyes while I killed. My pride as a Hunter and my Brotherly pride with the rest of the Hunters would not allow any less. But, it was still better to avoid unnecessary things.


    After that second kill, there came no more growls nor snarls. Only the scent of blood remained in the air. None of it belonging to me or my Brothers.


    ¡°How boring,¡± said Leaping Fox. ¡°The sheena are only worth fifteen points. And that is counting them as a pack.¡±


    ¡°A good morning workout, at least,¡± added Little Bird.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get to work before the scent of blood attract more troublesome foes.¡± Brother Eagle Above Skies was as cautious as ever. ¡°Some of the more formidable creatures in these forests would easily be able to challenge us. We also do not want to alert the Scylla.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Big Bird. ¡°We have bigger prey to hunt.¡±


    So we went to work then, cutting off the small triangular shaped ears of the sheena. They were made of soft bones, crunchy and tasty if one ate them. We didn¡¯t. They were proof of our fifteen points.


    Upon gathering them, I realized that Brother Ronat, the smallest and meekest of us, had killed three of the sheena. Most likely, the sheena had underestimated Brother Ronat. It wasn¡¯t wise to judge from appearance.


    We put our spoils into one of the two backpacks we had brought along. The ears did not even fill the backpack one fifth of the way.


    Our breakfast, having kindly delivering themselves to us in the morn, consisted of sheena delicacies. None of the creatures who were attracted by the scent of blood bothered us. Most likely, they were either wary of us, or the Scylla had a wider range of territory than our initial estimations.


    Personally, I think it was the former. My Brothers and I were also not to be judged from appearances.


    Luckily, the heart of the sheena I had killed had not been damaged. My blade-spear had narrowly missed it. The raw flesh of its heart was chewy, and the heartblood was rather sour. I could taste the vitality in that sourness as it scoured down my throat.


    ¡°Heh, don¡¯t get too excited now, Brother Wolf Under Stars,¡± Leaping Fox wryly commented.


    I didn¡¯t let it get to me. It was all in fun anyway. ¡°If you want more excitement, we can eat the more¡­gamier¡­parts of the sheena,¡± I said with an innocent look on my face, also making sure to emphasize the ¡°we.¡±


    Brother Leaping Fox paled at that. He knew what I was talking about.


    Little Bird chuckled at that. It was a strange chirp of a chuckle. Most likely, the sheena limb he was devouring had become stuck in his throat.


    When we finished, we gathered our belongings in haste and dragged away the remaining corpses, stowing them behind a thorn bush. We were careful to avoid any of the thorns. They were, as Hunter had once articulately put them, like putting the piss of a Ronat onto your wounds. It was one of those rare days Hunter put out a joke.


    ¡°You know, Brothers,¡± Leaping Fox suddenly said. ¡°I had a dream about my favorite knife last night. I miss it. It¡¯s like longing for a lover.¡±


    It was a trap. And Brother Little Bird instantly fell for it, like a thirsty sheena seeking out blood. ¡°Hah, you have never even had a lover before, Brother Leaping Fox.¡±


    ¡°True.¡± Leaping Fox sighed in exaggeration. ¡°Only you would know, Brother Little Bird. I heard you calling out for your Mina last night.¡± He mimicked. ¡°Oh, Mina, Mina. I miss you so much. I long for your little touches and kisses.¡± He made out a fake smooch.


    Brother Leaping Fox was cunning like that. He had a flair for words. And a flair for the blade-spear. He was quite speedy with it, akin to that of a Leaping Fox.


    The Brothers laughed at that. I was no exception, considering that even Eagle Above Skies gave a small chuckle.


    Little Bird blushed, muttering to himself for a while, most likely making plans to get back at Leaping Fox.


    The two Brothers bonded well like that, I knew. They loved to poke fun at everyone, but especially each other. There was just a certain presence to them. Us Brothers would have been dreary without the two.


    We retraced our path, arriving at the cave of the Scylla. Of course, we were vigilant about this. All of us separately looked for any new tracks, making sure that the Scylla had not yet left its cave.


    It hadn¡¯t.


    ¡°Forty points, Brothers,¡± Leaping Fox said. ¡°After we kill it, we will have fifty-five points.¡±


    The surroundings of the cave was a small clearing with only one large tree to the side of the cave. The opening was large, perhaps about fifteen feet by ten feet. The cave itself was covered in green and blue moss, along with various types of plants. There were even some flowers hanging vertically, not to mention horizontally.


    We were cautious as we approached closer toward the opening of the cave. We stopped briefly behind a ring of tree trunks. A closer look at a target could reveal various more things than a look from a distance. Of course, while we ourselves were observing the cave, we were still aware of our surroundings.


    Stilling myself and sharpening my senses, I could hear the chirps of small birds on the higher branches of the trees. There was also the buzzing of some small insects. Not particularly dangerous by their looks.


    The surface of the opening of the stone cave looked somewhat strange. There were claw marks to its side, and a closer observation revealed tiny patches of moss that had been ripped off. I didn¡¯t need to tell any of my Brothers this. They themselves, in all likely probabilities, had seen the marks.


    ¡°Think a battle took place here?¡± I asked. It was probably unlikely since I did not see any damage to the surroundings of the cave.


    ¡°Possibly.¡± Eagle Above Skies frowned. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any tracks of other beasts that could pose a threat nearby though.¡±


    We thought in silence for a while more.


    Hidden Shade broke it. ¡°It most likely has a mate.¡± He continued. ¡°The creatures have strange methods of mating, some of which involve gripping onto the surface of walls.¡±


    Little Bird grinned at that. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were so knowledgeable in the mating habits of beasts. It¡¯s no wonder I couldn¡¯t find you on some of the nights. I might have to come hear advice from you Brother in the near future.¡±


    Eagle Above Skies waved a hand to quiet him while Leaping Fox rolled his eyes.


    Hidden Shade merely continued, not bothered by his words. He, no doubt, was already used to Little Bird¡¯s antics. ¡°Fighting with two Scylla will be challenging.¡±


    We nodded at that. A Scylla could easily take on a pack of sheena by itself with four limbs tied behind its back. Indeed, it would only need two limbs out of its six limbs to destroy a pack of sheena easily.


    ¡°Ronat¡¯s piss,¡± Leaping Fox cursed. ¡°And we will only get half points for the second Scylla, if there is one.¡±


    ¡°So, shall we take up the challenge?¡± Eagle Above Skies asked.


    There was only one answer for that. All of us answered with the same word. Even Brother Ronat, the most silent out of all of us.


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    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Hidden Shade spoke up after that. ¡°The female Scylla could also be in its pregnant state. Their gestation period only takes about a month, and it is a hard task. Luckily, conception is so rare or else we would have already been overrun by Scylla.¡±


    Eagle Above Skies agreed. ¡°That could be the reason why we did not see any other different Scylla tracks near this territory. Seems plausible.¡± He steadied his blade-spear. ¡°Very well, we will split up into two groups to deal with the two beasts.¡±


    There was no need for further instructions. Before the First Hunt had even begun, we had already decided on how to split up to deal with possible situations like this.


    One group would be Little Bird, Big Bird, Leaping Fox, and Big Bear.  The other group would include me, Brother Ronat, Hidden Shade, and Eagle Above Skies. Four in each group.


    ¡°If there is a pregnant female, your group will deal with it,¡± Eagle Above Skies said. ¡°Whichever group finishes first will help the other group.¡±


    There were no complaints from the members of the other group. A gestating Scylla would be ferocious. It would do anything it could to protect the young life in its womb. In fact, I believed that the male Scylla would be easier to deal with. At least then, it would be a little more predictable.


    ¡°Before we start,¡± Leaping Fox said, ¡°let me answer a quick nature¡¯s call.¡±


    ======


    From behind the ring of trees, we steadily closed in on the cave, our muscles tense and our blade-spears ready. We would move at the slightest bit of provocation.


    The opening of the cave, being surrounded by overhanging plants, was dark. I could barely see through it. But even if my sight was clear, the cave was deep enough that I would not see anything of note.


    Brother Eagle Above Skies picked up a small stone nearby. ¡°It¡¯s worth a try.¡± He threw it inside the cave then.


    The sounds of the rock bouncing resounded from inside the cave, but there was no response. ¡°Smart beast,¡± he muttered. ¡°Looks like it wants a fight on its own turf.¡±


    It was a shame that the beast wasn¡¯t provoked by this. The Scylla had probably sensed our presences from a distance away, and was awaiting us inside the cave. Smart was right. It was the reason why we always kept a set distance away from the cave.


    ¡°At least it will be trapped then, though we have less space to work with,¡± Little Bird asserted.


    Brother Big Bear simply shrugged. I could see the shaking on his hands, not from fear, but from battle-lust. He was itching for a battle. And the bigger it was, the better it was. He was what was known as a Berserker, I would know later.


    With that, we went inside the cave, all eight of us easily going in at the same time. But before we did, we left our two backpacks near the entrance, so that there would be less of a hindrance while we fought.


    Naturally, the cave was dark. There were no shafts of light to pierce through the roof of the stone cave. It was sealed shut.


    The place was dry, lacking the smell of dampness. But the air, it held the smell of blood and the decay of bodies. We went further in, and the cave became narrower. Not much, but it was noticeable.


    I felt myself walking downward, as if into the depths of some hellhole. The ground became slightly uneven, and through my observations, I could see pieces of torn stones lying all around. Most likely, the Scylla had dug deep. And hard. Hard enough to tear through stone.


    Then the ground evened out, and the cave, now seemingly a tunnel by its look, became wider. By now, we were deep enough into the cave that we could make out only a small radius inside the darkness, despite our night vision.


    Then we felt the wind rushing, and the scraping of dirt and stone. Mostly stone.


    Each and every one of the Brothers rolled over to the sides as a massive figure smashed down onto the ground, and in its wake, leaving trembles all over. The Scylla roared, piercing our ears with the might of its voice alone. Its tail whipped across, smashing into Eagle Above Skies. He had been the closest one to the beast when it had landed.


    ¡°Brother!¡± we cried out, as we saw his figure thrown across like a ragdoll, and as his body smashed into the wall of the tunnel, leaving a good-sized imprint.


    From my rolling to dodge the beast, I had already stood up. To my sides, my Brothers had done the same likewise.


    Another roar resounded throughout the cave, a slight difference, almost unnoticeable, compared to the first. It belonged to the female Scylla.


    Brother Little Bird, Big Bear, Big Bird, and Leaping Fox nodded at our group. They did not hesitate for even a second before leaving the four of us alone against the male Scylla. By now, Eagle Above Skies had shook his body free and stood up, looking only a little fazed. He would have a bruise to sport soon though.


    The male Scylla, perhaps seeing the four Brothers leave to go deeper into the cave¡ªdeeper toward its pregnant mate¡ªbecame enraged. The beast became more frantic, wildly smashing us with its tail and clawing us with its six limbs, two of which were more flexible than the rest, almost like hands.


    Brother Eagle Above Skies and Brother Hidden Shade took up the back of the beast, while Brother Ronat and I faced the front. The Scylla, not caring the cuts it took at its back, tried to gore the two of us with its six horns that were split evenly between two heads.


    Its two front limbs thrashed wildly, attempting to maim at us. I dodged nimbly to the sides, where its reach was a little worse. A glance told me that the two other brothers were busy dealing with the beast¡¯s tail. They were also making quick work of it. By now, there was only about half a stump left.


    The Scylla roared once more in pain as I pivoted into Big Whirlwind, using all of the momentum to cut right into the sides of its ribcage. It¡¯s a grisly work, cutting into the flesh of a Scylla. All that thick fur, some parts scales, and muscles were in the way.


    Brother Ronat, on the other hand, was quickly dodging the swipes from the beast. He was busy keeping the attention of the beast¡¯s two heads. He was quite daring, contrary to his appearance. Then I saw a clean thrust and pull, which caused a roar that shook the entire tunnel. I almost thought the cave would fall down onto itself.


    The thrust and pull, from what I could tell, had left one of the beast¡¯s eight eyes blinded. I even saw a spray of red and black goo dye the tip of his spear. Grisly work it was.


    At the same time, I slashed into its ribcage some more, leaving a deep laceration. There were a dozen or so of those lacerations, and blood was heavily flowing out. Its middle limb kicked outward, trying to brush away the unseen annoyance.


    I avoided it easily, and gouged out a chunk of part-scaled, part-furred flesh. It was bloody work, and my chest was instantly red. I was close now, very close into gouging out the beast¡¯s heart. It was now a matter of seconds, a few more gouges and cuts.


    As if sensing my killing intent, the beast stood up on its two back limbs, its height reaching to the very roof of the tunnel, close to fifteen feet high. Then the Scylla smashed down. An explosion of dust and dirt exploded outward.


    I caught more than my fair share of the explosion, being so close to it. Luckily, I had moved backward just in time to not catch the full brunt of it, else it would have left me broken in many places.


    Then the beast almost fell down as Brother Eagle Above Skies and Brother Hidden Shade finally cut one of its back limbs off. The impressive tail of the Scylla had also been merely reduced to a stump.


    The end came quick, but slow for the beast. I kept digging at the beast¡¯s underside, going through its ribcage, then toward its sternum. My hands were slick with blood, but my grip on the blade-spear was still firm.


    It¡¯s a nasty experience trying to dig into a beast like that. Not to mention the sickening resistance the blade-spear made against its flesh, muscles, and bones. I soldiered through all of it in silence.


    The sternum was tough and wide enough to cover the entirety of its heart. It took more than three hard lunging strikes to break through it. Then I had to get through the muscles. By that time, the beast was thrashing wildly and I was hard-pressed to dodge the flailing limbs. Blood flew everywhere, showering me under its flooding rain.


    A final thrust ended the fight, piercing through the thick muscle that was its heart. It took a second or two of nudging to free my spear from the muscles, all the time with the beast thrashing everywhere. Luckily, its underside was large enough that I could dodge with some space.


    Then I scrambled to get out from under the beast. It¡¯s no happy experience to have a large beast fall on top of you; furthermore, a beast that probably weighed more than a ton, all of it mostly muscles. Trust me, I speak from experience.


    When the beast finally became still, there came another set of roaring from deeper within the cave. It was the other group of Brothers who were still fighting the female Scylla.


    I felt a firm pat on my back. It was from Eagle Above Skies. ¡°Looks like you took a nice blood bath, eh Brother Wolf Under Stars.¡± He looked toward the deeper end of the cave tunnel. ¡°No time to rest, though. We got more work to do.¡±


    Just like that, we moved deeper onward, leaving the still body of the Scylla. It had breathe its last, but its unblinking eyes still stared at me with enmity¡ªat least what remained of its eyes. Brother Ronat had punctured four out of eight of the great beast¡¯s eyes.


    Deeper within the cave, we found some bones of what remained of the beasts the Scylla had eaten. Some of these bones were flung about like falling leaves as they were thrown up into the air by the rampaging Scylla. Five of its eyes had been punctured through completely, black and red goo seeping from these holes. One head had lost all four of its eyes.


    ¡°Need any help, Brother Leaping Fox?¡± I asked while watching him dodge another furious swipe from a paw.


    ¡°I,¡± he exerted, making another small puncture hole on the belly of the Scylla, ¡°do not!¡± He dodged the half stub of a tail that came whipping toward him. ¡°Need any help!¡±


    In the front of the Scylla, Brother Big Bear wore an excited blood-smeared grin on his face as his massive blade-spear made another slash on the beast¡¯s face. He almost looked as if he wanted to wrestle with the Scylla by himself.


    As for the two other Brothers, they were busy hacking off the limbs of the Scylla, lowering its mobility. The small wounds would eventually add up, marking for a massive loss of blood.


    When the beast finally died, the four Brothers did not look as if they were any worse for wear. In fact, they wore their shit-eating grins on their faces, as if they wanted a better challenge.


    Eagle Above Skies only shook his head at that. ¡°We have work to do.¡±


    As proof of our hunt, we took the horns and tails of the Scylla, putting them inside our backpacks. When all was said and done, it was early afternoon outside the cave.


    ¡°With that, it¡¯s seventy-five points. Only five more days and nights to go, along with about two hundred points,¡± Little Bird said.


    We sat down outside the cave, all of us soaked in the blood of the Scylla to some extent. I was the worst out of the group. From head to toe, I was dyed red with blood.


    ¡°I think we should call you Red Wolf now.¡± Leaping Fox grinned.


    Not caring that we were soaked in blood, we dug into the flesh of the Scylla. The blood bath had only wet our appetite. Finally, we traced out a path to the river, and cleansed off the blood of the Scylla on our bodies.


    It would make tracking prey harder if we were covered in such potent blood. The beasts and animals would be able to smell us coming from miles away.


    Afternoon was an easy twenty points. We had finally managed to find a nest of sky vipers. There were only fourteen of them. Easy pickings. There was not even a single sweat we worked up. We only had to throw our knives twice over and fourteen of them came rushing down in anger, each of them sporting a throwing knife on their head or body.


    Our blade-spears made short work of them.


    The largest of them was only fifteen feet long. It was the only one that gave us some pause. It had taken many stabs to die. It was not a peaceful death. Rather violent, I would say. Then again, that was a given.


    Night fell and we set up camp.


    ¡°Good work, Brothers,¡± Eagle Above Skies said in his voice, ever full of patience.


    ¡°Only 205 more points to go,¡± I said, looking down upon my hands. They were no longer stained with blood. But somehow, I felt as if my hands, calloused from blade-spear training, were as bloody as before.


    I looked up. This time, there were not many canopies blocking the moonlight. I felt my blood boiling, my senses sharpening. Strangely enough, I felt as if I was Surging.

 Chapter 7: First Hunt (Part 3)

    Chapter 7: First Hunt (Part Three)


    I didn¡¯t tell any of my Brothers about my Surging. Instead, I offered to take up the first nightwatch tonight in exchange for doing later nightwatchs on the nights to come. They agreed. The first nightwatch is always the easiest. After you finish your turn, you could sleep uninterrupted for the whole night.


    Walking over, I laid myself against the trunk of a tree. It was a safe tree¡ªwe had already checked for any dangerous beasts.


    I gritted my teeth against my cheeks, hard¡ªI tasted the blood in my mouth.


    The night of my attempted Surge Awakening came rushing back to haunt me. I relived the images over in my mind. How my throat became raw¡­scratched from my own screaming. How my blood felt like molten fury. How my veins had become channels for living fire. Then the explosion of blood.


    I was gasping now, attempting to suppress my breaths which came in quick intervals. I looked toward my Brothers.


    Thankfully, they were still sleeping.


    My hand, as if guided by the memories of that night, moved toward my chest. My hand did not obey me. It was as if it had a life of its own.


    My vision became crystal-clear. Night was no longer a small hindrance to me. It felt as if night had become day. My hearing became sharper. I could almost hear the soft breaths of my sleeping Brothers. And I could almost hear the blood running in their veins. It was like something in the furthest back of your mind. You could almost grasp it, but it was like an elusive fish. Like something you forgot about and wanted to desperately remember. It was that sort of feeling.


    By now, my whole body felt as if my own blood was besieging every point, ever orifices. I felt a trickle of wetness down my nose. I wiped it away, and saw the dark redness of it. Blood.


    My blood.


    But there was a strangeness to it. The scarlet liquid looked as if it was alive. Squirming, and wriggling. Like the bodies of dying beasts. Like the last lights of their eyes before they became extinguished, like the dying embers of a campfire.


    Hastily, I wiped it away onto a patch of grass beneath me. Like a disgusting stain I had to remove.


    Then I watched in horrid fascination at the unexpected result. A verdant green turned into red. The grass, almost half as long as my forearm, quickly became devoured by my blood. The small stain of blood stretched itself, like a viper widening its jaws to swallow its prey.


    My thoughts turned cold at that.


    This was too strange. Too freakish. I couldn¡¯t let anyone find out about it. Not even my Brothers.


    Had my Surge returned after all this time? My thoughts turned bitter. Two and a half years.


    Surprisingly, I notice my pain receding. No longer was my blood boiling, attempting to crawl out of each and every pore of my body. I only felt a simple warmth, which also gradually receded.


    I let out a sigh of relief.


    For the remainder of my nightwatch, I kept my eyes open, slowly holding onto my blade-spear. I practiced a few forms with it. Silently. Ever so quietly, so that I would not wake my Brothers.


    In that long night, my weapon was my only comfort. Like a mother. Like a lover. Like family.


    The third morning came easy. Breakfast was the nearby prey we hunted, consisting of a Bigger Ronat, various smaller creatures, and fish we caught in the bigger river upstream.


    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Brother Leaping Fox started to say. ¡°Whenever I eat a Ronat, I feel as if I am eating you, Brother Ronat.¡±


    ¡°Next, you are probably going to say the teats of a mother Ronat are similar to Brother Ronat,¡± Little Bird muttered as he ate the cooked fish.


    We were quite diverse eaters. Raw or cooked. It didn¡¯t matter. We did, however, agreed upon that the still-warm flesh and the still-warm blood of our prey tasted better at the moment of their deaths.


    And perhaps, just perhaps that morning, Brother Leaping Fox¡¯s flair for words had left him.


    Our next set of points resulted when we finally tracked down a group of Bristles which were foraging for some skyweed in a densely vegetated area of the forest. Don¡¯t get me wrong, these Bristles were mostly carnivorous, only resorting to eat a few fruits and plants now and then.


    Skyweed was a famous attraction for the Bristles. And that was only because when the creatures ate them, they would feel as if they were in the sky. High as the sky, the saying would go, for the creatures who would eat the skyweed.


    My Brothers and I had tried them before when Hunter brought a few of these plants to us. One moment, we were all normal, and the next moment, we were high as the sky. Then we started playing Catch the Beasts. And when I was the hunter, all I could do was rub against a tree trunk, thinking it was one of my Brothers.


    Definitely as high as the sky.


    Still, it has its uses. If you ground it up into a paste and cover your wounds with that paste, it would reduce the pain and increase the rate of blood clotting.


    There were four Bristles in the group we tracked down. A group of Bristles was worth thirty points, and the reason they were worth so much was due to the difficulty in catching them.


    The creatures had the appearances of porcupines smashed into a monkey¡¯s back. They were flexible bastards, able to roll into a ball of sharp quills. Dangerous opponents if one did not know how to deal with them.


    They were also provoked quite easily. And with their features, the creatures were the natural enemies and predators of the sky vipers. Yes, they could climb like monkeys too. Like I said, quite dangerous for the ignorant.


    Brother Leaping Fox jumped out of the way as a ball of quill came rolling toward him. Then he made a quick turn, smashing into the ball of quill with an overhanded swing, making sure that only the blade of the spear touched the creature¡¯s body.


    It was a wise move. Brother Leaping Fox cared greatly for his blade-spear. He didn¡¯t want any quills stuck onto the weapon¡¯s shaft, and though the wood was easily harder than metal, and lighter to boot, Brother Leaping Fox did not take any chances.


    The Bristle that came for me was an easier opponent. I dodged the ball of quills which was almost as large as I was, and it immediately became stuck between two trees. A whine of anger and mixed howls exploded from the Bristle as I stabbed at one of its weak spot, the joint which allowed the Bristle to flex into a ball. It was an easy kill.


    The other two Bristles were even easier opponents. They were higher than the skies themselves. Too much skyweed could do that to someone. The two Bristles were rolling around in circles, not even able to directly attack my Brothers. We waited for them to grow exhausted and to open up their ball forms. The rest was easy then.


    ¡°That was a bit too easy,¡± Little Bird said with a hint of disappointment. ¡°They didn¡¯t even shoot any quills at us, or even climbed onto the trees.¡±


    I shrugged at that. ¡°You don¡¯t look a gift Ronat in the mouth.¡±


    The next battle took place in the afternoon, when we spotted remnants of leftover webs.


    ¡°Arachne,¡± Hidden Shade said, pulling apart a strand of web with his fingers, and inspecting their quality. ¡°Possibly of the red species.¡± He tasted it. ¡°Female by the taste of it.¡±


    Both the jaws of Leaping Fox and Little Bird dropped at that. ¡°You can tell their genders from the taste?¡±


    Hidden Shade had a calm look on his face as he explained. ¡°There¡¯s a slightly sour taste when a female red Arachne makes it, whereas if a male makes it, there¡¯s a bitter taste. It¡¯s a very gentle difference, slight and almost unnoticeable. But, it is what differentiate the genders.¡±


    ¡°What! Let me taste it then.¡± Leaping Fox moved toward the strands of remnant webs. ¡°I don¡¯t taste anything at all.¡±


    ¡°Same here,¡± Little Bird added.


    Eagle Above Skies sighed at that. ¡°Brother Hidden Shade is pulling your spears. You cannot tell the gender of an Arachne from the web it makes.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Both Little Bird and Leaping Fox were speechless. Brother Hidden Shade rarely, if ever, made jokes.


    We laughed at the two.


    ¡°Looks like you need to brush up on your forest lore, eh, Brothers,¡± I said, my face all smiles.


    We moved onward then, with Little Bird and Leaping Fox muttering to themselves.


    ¡°Just between you and me,¡± Big Bear suddenly whispered to me, ¡°I didn¡¯t think Brother Hidden Shade was joking either.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡±


    I could only think that some of my Brothers were quite na?ve in certain aspects.


    The tracking of the red Arachne took close to two hours. We had to proceed very slowly. An Arachne was a dangerous creature. With a dozen legs and an extra four smaller hands, it had half the number of limbs as all of us Brothers combined. Having sixteen limbs was nothing to scoff at.


    But that wasn¡¯t what made the creature truly dangerous, giving it a formidable sixty points. The creature was dangerous due to the venom it could inject and exude from its row of fangs. Not to mention the fact that it could shoot out webs from its two appendages on the sides of its spinneret.


    There¡¯s nothing quite easier in scarring your mind than seeing a hideous Arachne with dripping venom from its rows of fangs that could devour your entire head with one easy bite. The creature was almost as large as a Scylla and easily twice as dangerous.


    Along our tracking, we kept a lookout on all sides, and almost in every direction, especially the skies. The red Arachne were master weavers. They made their webs everywhere. Between the branches of trees, between trees, between grounds, between the trunks of trees¡ªeverywhere.


    They were smart too. Their webs were sometime painted in venom. One ignorant touch, and it could fell a formidable beast. Even a Scylla with all its humongous body would die if it took in enough venom.


    After each careful measure of our surroundings, we proceeded, following the remnants of the webs. Red Arachne migrated homes quite often, especially after it had eaten all the prey in its territory. Or scared away all the prey¡­


    Perhaps an hour of time passed as we continued our tracking. We were now in a section of a forest where the trees had grown denser. The trunks of decaying trees were scattered onto the ground, like giant behemoths slowly dying.


    We avoided them like we would a wildfire. Anything could be living in the hollows of these trunks. We slowly weaved through them, watching out for any alarming sounds from the usual din of buzzing insects and chirps.


    We arrived at a ring of trees with sparsely scattered boulders the size of a full grown Demona Hunter. Seven feet tall, and arranged randomly. There were also fallen trunks and every type of plants growing. ¡°Stop,¡± I said, just loud enough for my Brothers to hear. They stopped immediately.


    It was tiny thing, almost imperceptible. Even Hidden Shade had not noticed it. Right between the bottoms of these scatter boulders, under and behind tall growing grasses, I noticed strands of web. And with the few shafts of afternoon sunlight piercing down onto certain spots, it made the strands of web almost invisible.


    The Brothers grew pale upon seeing it.


    ¡°Good eyes, Brother Wolf,¡± Eagle Above Skies praised.


    My vision was feeling particularly keener ever since last night.


    We proceeded even more cautiously, watching out for any ground traps. We paled even more upon discovering a series of connecting small web of strands that led through the tree trunks, under grasses, behind grasses, behind boulders, and behind everything possibly hidden.


    Eagle Above Skies narrowed his eyes. ¡°This creature is too cunning. It is laying ground traps everywhere. If we had triggered or cut through any of these strands, it would have alerted the Arachne.¡±


    Hidden Shade crouched down, inspecting the small strands of web. He shook his head. ¡°No, these webs seem too weak. I am sure they belong to smaller Arachne.¡±


    ¡°A nest?¡± Brother Little Bird said, a little nervousness creeping into his voice. He didn¡¯t like Arachne; I knew from seeing him already have small troubles toward spiders.


    ¡°Probably her younglings,¡± Hidden Shade answered. ¡°It must have been why we saw so many remnants of webs. She was most likely moving to find a better home. A better breeding ground.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Leaping Fox started. ¡°I don¡¯t like my chances of facing a pair of red Arachne. But if the female already gave birth to her younglings, that means the father has already become nourishment.¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± I said. I knew a lot about Arachne. Perhaps even more than Hidden Shade, who was the master of forest lore among us. ¡°It could also go the other way and mate with a purple male Arachne, which is a much stronger species. The female red Arachne does not turn the male into nourishment for the younglings then.¡±


    I gave a grim smile. It did not reach my eyes. ¡°In that case, the male turns the female into nourishment and devours more than half of its younglings.¡±


    A chirp of a chuckle. ¡°Sounds like a challenge,¡± Little Bird said, the nervousness plain in his voice. ¡°A purple male Arachne is the third most challenging creature in the northern forests, one of the three kings and worth 75 points.¡±


    In Hunter training, we were only taught the theories behind battling a purple male Arachne, and the general colored Arachne. We had, in reality, never faced an Arachne before. Not to even mention a purple one.


    We prepared a few escape routes and discussed plans before finally finishing. The designated guard would be Brother Ronat.


    ¡°Shall we start the hunt then?¡± Eagle Above Skies said, holding onto his blade-spear with a tighter clench.


    ¡°A bloodbath it shall be,¡± we said.


    Little Bird took a deep breath. ¡°Yes. Let us begin.¡±


    To our surprise, it took more than half an hour of cautious walking to reach what was known as the cocoon web of the Arachne. There, from a distance, on an elevated clearing, we saw a gigantic web made up of smaller interconnected webs, which spanned across close to two dozen trees.


    If we were to move under the web, there would have been no doubts in our minds that the web would have been able to block the sun out. Night would be the domain under the web.


    Straining our necks to observe the cocoon web up in the sky, we could barely make out what was happening in the center of the cocoon web.


    It was a scene that would haunt our minds forever.


    In that center was the purple male Arachne devouring the female red Arachne. Half of her body was stuffed inside its mouth, abdomen first, and four of her legs were crooked. All of us felt as if we could hear the crunches of the armored chitin breaking into pieces as the mandibles of the purple male Arachne did its works.


    From atop the half-devoured abdomen of the female red Arachne, multiple Arachne younglings were crawling away to escape their father. They crawled over one another in their haste. They were like ants scrambling over a dead insect.


    No, they were indeed like ants. Their father did not even care as his children scrambled for an escape. He merely continued chewing the body of the female red Arachne. His eighteen legs and four smaller ¡°hands¡± twitched in what seemed to be ecstasy. Its twenty beady violet eyes, eight on each side, and two in the middle, were unblinking.


    Then, to our horrified fascination, the jaws of the female red Arachne moved. It was still alive!


    Was it shrieking out its last death cries?


    ¡°Dear All Father.¡± Little Bird let out a half squeak, his face so pale it could have been compared to my skin. ¡°I think I am going to be sick.¡±


    ¡°Me too,¡± Leaping Fox added. ¡°Now I know why you hate Arachne. The small spiders are already disgusting enough.¡±


    Eagle Above Skies looked on with measuring eyes. ¡°It¡¯s large.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an understatement¡­you mean it¡¯s damn gigantic,¡± Little Bird corrected.


    He ignored the words. ¡°It¡¯s possibly larger than the Scylla. I am not exactly sure from this distance, but it should be around that size.¡±


    Hidden Shade narrowed his eyes. ¡°I agree with your estimations. It seems to be around that size, perhaps larger.¡±


    Beside me, I could see Brother Big Bear twitching with excitement, his grip on the blade-spear so tight that his palms had probably turned white, and his bones probably creaking from the force. ¡°We are fighting it?¡±


    We looked at each other eyes, then nodded.


    ¡°I think we can handle it,¡± said Eagle Above Skies.


    ¡°Fun.¡± The glint of battle-lust became even more distinct in Brother Big Bear¡¯s eyes. Like other Demona born with the Hunter type bodies, us Brothers mostly had dark-colored eyes ranging from black, grey, and red. Brother Big Bear was no exception. His eyes were scarlet and as red as blood could be. With the battle-lust, they almost seem to glow.


    We made our way across the cocoon web, each of us wary for any stray webs on the forest grounds. We avoided unnaturally shaped tree trunks, boulders, and hollow grounds. It took more than ten minutes of walking before we reached the outer layers of the cocoon web.


    We stopped, hesitating on whether to proceed further. The ground webs had become denser and denser as we moved closer toward the center of the cocoon web. Above us, we saw that the purple male Arachne had already eaten more than two-thirds of the red female Arachne. And in its boredom, its many legs stabbed out at the Arachne younglings.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think we should proceed any further,¡± said Hidden Shade.


    It was sensible advice. I wouldn¡¯t have wished to get stuck inside the cocoon web. Not even for my enemies.


    ¡°Well, Brother Wolf Under Stars, up to you now,¡± said Eagle Above Skies. His blade-spear suddenly flew outward and it slashed at an Arachne youngling that had dared to climb down.


    Curiosity killed the spider.


    Then again, not that an Arachne looked anything like a spider. No, it was too big for that. It also had too many limbs.


    I nodded. From one of my three waist pouches, each only a little bigger than a hand¡¯s length, I took out two small bombs. I had another bigger pouch with me, but that was for my three throwing knives. The black leather pants and fur-tipped boots of a Hunter was not only for show. It was adapted for many situations and could carry many items.


    The two small bombs were what was known as Essence Bombs. Each of them was a little smaller than the circular diameter your index finger and thumb could make.


    Small, but deadly were the words that came into mind.


    The ones I held were Fire Essence Bombs and they were currently sealed by a strip of enchanted papyrus made from a plant fiber. If the strips were removed, the bombs would be activated and a more-than-slight resistance would cause them to implode. If not removed, then it would take a lot of resistance to cause an explosion.


    These Essence Bombs were quite useful, made in concert with the efforts of Magus, Weaponsmiths, and Blacksmiths. The Magus would manipulate the Fire Essences of the world and refine them, not into Anima, but into denser Fire Essences. They would then put them into the bomb containers with the help of the Weaponsmiths and Blacksmiths.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    I took aim at the tree where the thickest of the cocoon web was, and where there were dozens of Arachne younglings crawling over each other. Like father, like son, the younglings also fought each other, cannibalizing their dead.


    The tree was about close to two hundred feet. An easy throw. It wasn¡¯t as if I had to aim for a precise target. I had a wide margin of error to fall back on. There was a sea of web after all.


    The Fire Essence Bomb made a massive explosion as soon as it hit the tree trunk. I fell a little short of my target, but it didn¡¯t matter. The initial fiery explosion gouged out more than half of the section of the humongous tree trunk. Chunks of wood fell down like small meteorites, raining over the sea of web. Some of the unlucky Arachne younglings were instantly dead as a chunk of wood their size flattened them into a fiery mess. One chunk of wood even landed about ten feet away from our group.


    A blossoming effect took place as the web caught on fire. And as the blaze grew stronger from devouring the webs and the wood, the tree itself fell down, crushing a multitude of Arachne younglings that had been unlucky enough to be under its swathe of destruction. A four hundred feet tall tree of destruction.


    There was no comparison. It was undisputed.


    Essence fire was by far the stronger fire compared to normal fire. Its will to devour everything that lay before its path was far greater, almost as if the fire was alive. And the heat of the Essence fire, there was no need to even mention it.


    I smiled at the destruction of dancing flames. A good Hunter loves himself a fire when it¡¯s the right time. And this was the right time.


    I had to admit. Ever since that attempted Surge Awakening so many nights ago, I have had a penchant for fires. The larger the better. Perhaps it was a way of covering for my trauma. Or perhaps not. It could have just been the fire in my blood.


    It was time to add more fuel.


    I threw the other Fire Essence Bomb, this time closer to the purple male Arachne, who was still busy eating the now-dead female Arachne. A minute passed by, but the purple male Arachne did not even bother doing anything against the fire.


    It only got up when there was only the head of the female Arachne left, the head of its mate. Former mate. This, he crushed under one of its legs. Then it screeched out loud, all twenty of its beady, small eyes trained upon us¡ªthe source of the disturbance of its meal.


    The creature flew from the spot of web cocoon it stood upon. A leap that carried him and all twenty two of its limbs into a tree more than a hundred feet away. Its eighteen legs punctured into the thick tree trunk, flinging away many pieces of bark.


    Its screech was like the screams of the dying except it was in a voice that was impossibly high. Just the sound alone could have made a Ronat piss in fear.


    ¡°Oh my All Father. That ain¡¯t an Arachne. That¡¯s more like a damn bird,¡± Little Bird said.


    We ran after those words, Little Bird in the forefront. He was smart enough to know not to fight under such a terrain where it was advantageous for the Arachne. There were just too many trees and webs here.


    The Essence fire was also hard-pressed to devour the thicker and tougher strands of web in the center of the cocoon web. It went for the easier prey. The trees flared up. The leaves blackened, almost crumbling into ashes. And the branches became akin to that of dry kindling.


    In that moment, with the encouragement of the screeches of the purple male Arachne, we ran faster than we did in our entire young lives. We smashed through remnants of webs, jumping over fallen logs, and cutting through thick plants.


    The sight of the clearing was a blessing for us all. There were less trees there and we had a wide enough space to fight on even terrain. There were even some covers we could hide under. Of course, we had also mapped out an escape route just in case.


    We went up the small elevation, sprinting toward the middle of the clearing, and throwing our two backpacks at a safe distance away. Then we split up into eight directions as we saw a big shadow descend upon us.


    The ground trembled as the purple male Arachne, one of the three kings of the northern forests, landed onto the clearing, gouging out large chunks of dirt and grass in the process. It was the first time I saw such a clearer and closer look of the massive creature.


    Just one of its eighteen legs alone was twice as tall as Brother Big Bear, who was by far the tallest of us all. And the width of the leg was no laughing matter. It was as wide as our chests. The rough, black wiry hair that grew upon its legs and purple armored chitin was also as long as my index finger.


    As soon as I managed to run into a decent position, I turned around to face the purple male Arachne. It had its back toward me, and its black and violet patterned abdomen loomed at me like a huge, evil face. On its spinneret, there were two flexible appendages that could shoot out webs, not including the main spinneret.


    I ran toward the Arachne, knowing that it would soon be attacking Brother Big Bear who was the closest and the one the creature was facing toward. Blade-spear in one hand, I rushed toward it. To my sides, I could see Leaping Fox, Little Bird, and Hidden Shade also rushing toward it. We had the same idea by the looks of it¡ªwe would jump onto the Arachne, and dance death upon its body.


    The closest Brother to me was Little Bird, and throughout the whole sprinting, I could hear him muttering excessively about piss-poor Arachne. They weren¡¯t clean words.


    I was close to its ugly abdomen now. A simple ten feet more, and I could touch it with my hands. Not to mention cutting it with my blade-spear.


    On the front, I saw Big Bear clashing with one of the legs. Strength against strength. Blade-spear against purple armored chitin. The clash produced a jarring noise, harsh on the ears. But it was the music of battles.


    You didn¡¯t have to love it. You also didn¡¯t have to hate it. It was just so.


    Seven feet. Six feet. The creature was close now, already within reach if I chose to enter into Kiss of the Lunging Moon, a spear lunge that would easily close the distance.


    I didn¡¯t though. Cuts and hacking would work better on such an armored creature.


    Five feet. Then four feet. I was the first to reach the Arachne. I could see the shaking of the hair on the legs of the creature as it kept moving to battle against the other four of my Brothers.


    I started to gather into a jump. It would take all my strength to jump onto the Arachne¡¯s body. I gritted my teeth. I had more than twelve feet of height to jump.


    I paused then. Something was wrong. Call it instinct, call it fear. Or perhaps even the heat of the battle. Perhaps even my strangely sharp vision from the strange Surging.


    That hesitation saved my life.


    The purple male Arachne went half upright and turned around in less than a blink of an eye, facing. It¡¯s a strange sight, seeing such a gigantic beast pivot all the way to its back. Horrifying also, in fact.


    I rolled over just as four of its slimmer limbs, ¡°the four hands of the creature,¡± pierced into where I stood just a half second ago. I landed onto the ground hard, and with my hands still held onto my spear, I used the momentum to stand up.


    There¡¯s an art to falling onto the ground with a weapon. A bad fall and you could kill yourself with the weapon. A worse fall, and you could die from your own self-inflicted gut wound.


    I learned this art when I was five years old. Since then, I have never once released my grip on a weapon.


    ¡°Damn!¡± Hidden Shade shouted. ¡°It looks like the Arachne can sense the vibrations our steps make on the soil!¡±


    ¡°No wonder it knows when I am attacking!¡± I didn¡¯t see who shouted those words out loud, but from the voice alone, I knew that it belonged to Big Bird, whose silence had been broken by the excitement of the battle.


    ¡°Good dodge, Brother Wolf!¡± Leaping Fox called out from above the Arachne¡¯s abdomen. He had made good use of the timing of the creature¡¯s attack to jump onto its body unnoticed.


    Beside him, Eagle Above Skies was already stabbing into the creature¡¯s abdomen. Little Bird, on the other hand, chose not to go on top of the creature. He chose to start hacking at the legs of the Arachne.


    The bloodletting began then.


    It became a mining competition on top of the abdomen, but instead of picks, the two Brothers used their spears to thrust into the armored chitin. Down below, it became a woodcutting competition, but instead of axes, we used our blade-spears to cut down the legs that substituted for trees.


    The purple male Arachne screeched at the injustice, the noise alone almost shattering our eardrums. A few minutes passed by before we finally managed to cut off half of its one leg. A stream of black and violet blood goo spurted out. This time, the shrieking was so loud that our hearing became disoriented.


    We made sure that none of the blood got into our eyes or mouths. On our bodies, the potent blood of the stronger species of Arachne would be close to harmless, but once it got inside, you would become delirious with dream fever. You wouldn¡¯t die from that fever, but you would be weak as a baby Ronat for an hour or two while having dreams.


    A mad glint entered its twenty beady eyes.


    It jumped upward. And even with one of its legs cut off, the jump of the creature seemed barely affected by the loss. On top, Brother Leaping Fox and Eagle Above Skies held onto for dear life, their fingers gripping onto the hairy half-chipped armored chitin abdomen as the creature tried to shake them off.


    We backed away, careful of the explosions of dirt the aftershocks of the jumps left. Each of us took out our throwing knives. I aimed for one of its eyes. There were plenty of targets.


    My blood was singing with battle music, dancing to unknown tunes. My vision felt sharp. My sense of smell felt keener. I felt confident.


    I took an eye out easily, preventing the creature from further jumps.


    My Brothers looked at me with surprise. None of their knives had hit any of its eyes. It¡¯s not easy to hit such an erratic target shaking here and there violently in the air. Even Leaping Fox, the best knife-thrower in our group, would have been hard-pressed to replicate such a feat.


    I shrugged. ¡°Lucky shot?¡±


    ¡°Not luck, just skill.¡± Little Bird grinned, an impressed look on his face.


    Eagle Above Skies and Leaping Fox took the opportunity to jump down from the abdomen. It was getting too dangerous to be on top of the body.


    When the purple male Arachne finally stopped screeching in pain, no longer wildly trashing out, its nineteen eyes looked at us with pure malice. There was a black fire of hatred burning inside those eyes.


    All of its limbs became tense, and for what seemed like an eternity, we stared at each other.


    Sixteen eyes on our side and nineteen eyes on its side.


    Those gleaming eyes of the creature almost seemed to say something. We felt the intent of the creature. Something about its atmosphere also changed.


    No longer would it treat us as its prey. It would treat us at its equal enemy, vying for the position of one of the three kings of the northern forests. It would no longer look down upon us.


    The Arachne had suddenly become more dangerous.


    It bared its mandibles and its rows of sharp fangs. Violet venom, the most potent poison in all of the northern forests, could be seen dripping down from the mandibles and the rows of sharp fangs.


    I took up a position in the back of our encirclement as we slowly surrounded the Arachne from eight sides. I could not avoid its eyes. The enmity in them almost made me flinch. It was the deepest hatred I had ever seen among the beasts.


    An eye for an eye, they seemed to say.


    Wherever I went, the Arachne eyes followed, sizing me up, measuring me. Coldly calculating some unknown thoughts.


    In my life, I have met many beasts and men that could nurse their grudges well, biding their time, waiting for the most opportune moment to serve their cold vengeance. The Arachne is one of the best at this.


    When the creature suddenly moved, the battle began again.


    It rushed toward me, while my seven Brothers rushed toward its sides.


    One of the best advice I have heard were from some humans. ¡°If you see a creature multiple times your size, pray to your grandfather and run like the wind. Away from it. Not toward it.¡±


    I could have used that advice back then. But then again, thinking back, I didn¡¯t listen to it when I was older either.


    I ran toward the creature multiple times my size. I didn¡¯t try to go under the Arachne. That would have been running toward my grave. Being under more than eighteen sharp pincer-like limbs, each of them honed more finely than a sword, can only spell for one thing¡ªcertain death.


    Instead, I went for right before its front leg, almost underneath those fearsome mandibles that could have gored a large bear to death. I felt the wind rush toward my face and chest as I narrowly dodged a pincer-like leg.


    It was a close thing. I almost lost my footing from the sudden violent explosion of dirt and the echoing tremble of the ground.


    Let me tell you. It¡¯s a hard choice choosing to stay under a fountain-like mouth spewing out potent venom or under multiple pincer-like legs. I chose the safer route.


    I stayed close to those front legs, narrowly dodging each one whenever they came down. One leg in succession. Two legs in succession. Then a sudden rows of fangs dripping potent venom that came crashing down upon me. One scratch, and I would have died.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the Arachne gave up on targeting me. It turned to my Brothers who were brutally chopping at the legs of the creature, as if they were precious firewood for the winter.


    All the time, the creature kept on screeching as it steadily kept on losing one of its legs. We worked in silence, each of us keeping a steady pace, not even speaking a word for fear of losing focus.


    When the creature lost four of its legs, it suddenly got the idea of shooting its webs at us. We changed strategies then.


    Brother Big Bear took up the frontlines, using his massive blade-spear to poke at the eyes of the creature. That kept the creature busy, making it lose focus. The webs shot from the spinnerets and the connected appendages never came close to hitting us.


    I heard Brother Big Bear roar out in pain. He hadn¡¯t dodge in time. There was a long slash wound on his chest where the front pincer leg of the Arachne had cut through. On the outside, it looked like a massive wound, but it was just the surface of the flesh. Bloody, but not deep enough to be fatal to one of our kind.


    Retaliation was on his mind, and the battle-lust was plain to see in his scarlet eyes that seemed to glow like the embers of a campfire. With a roar, the armor on one of the two largest front legs of the Arachne became dented from the slash of his blade-spear. The leg looked freakishly bent, as if a joint or the bone had been broken.


    I wondered at how much strength was needed to do that. It definitely reinforced my desire to not get into a brawl with Brother Big Bear. His strength was unusual for his age.


    Leaping Fox managed to get close to the creature¡¯s abdomen, and hacked off one of its spinnerets, rendering the web-making useless. The webs could no longer hit any of us with accuracy.


    We would have to be blind to get caught up in one of the shot webs. And blind we were not.


    After what seemed like another half hour of fighting, the creature was finally on its death throes. Each of us Brothers had taken a turn at keeping the creature¡¯s head busy. And all of us sported small cuts from the narrow dodges and bruises from when the limbs of the Arachne suddenly twitched outward violently.


    My turn came again. The Arachne came charging at me on what remained of its former twenty two limbs. It was a half-crawl, half-limp. But I didn¡¯t underestimate the creature. I knew that it came with a dying vengeance.


    I battled against the head for a minute or two before the purple male Arachne finally settled down, its body going still. Its remaining three eyes were looking at me with confusion. The blood loss and the pain had made the creature no longer aware of its surroundings.


    It could not even crawl to get up now. The creature only had two of its front legs remaining and two of its back legs. Eighteen of its severed limbs were lying in random areas of the clearing along with the holes it had made.


    We waited until the lights finally died, and its eyes turned glossy.


    Then we waited some more.


    None of us trusted the cunning Arachne. It could still be feigning its death for all we knew. We waited for what seemed like half an hour before we finally dared to come closer. Then we took our spoils of the hunt.


    All of us worked with haste. We wanted to finish obtaining our spoils before the dream fever would set upon us. All of us except Brother Ronat had gotten some of the potent blood of the Arachne into our open wounds. We had chosen Brother Ronat as the designated guard before our battle with the Arachne.


    We took the violet-colored spinneret and one of its severed joint as the spoils. It nearly filled half a backpack and that was only because we cut it down into small pieces.


    When the dream fever came upon us, we fell down inside a cave which we had cleaned out just before tracking the Arachne. We, of course, had already prepared a few simple traps for any invaders. And Brother Ronat guarded us throughout our weakness.


    Before falling down into the dream fever, Little Bird managed to croak out a sentence. ¡°This is why I hate spiders.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Leaping Fox managed out a gasping reply.


    ¡°Shut it,¡± Little Bird retorted.


    Leaping Fox gasped out a chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t call out your Mina in your dream fever.¡±


    ¡°Both of you shut it,¡± Eagle Above Skies butted in, his patience wearing thin after that arduous battle.


    Beside me, Big Bear let out a wheezing laugh. He had the deepest voice out of all of us. ¡°A hundred more points to go.¡±


    Big Bird only sighed at that.


    The dream fever set in then.


    I was the last of the infected Brothers to fall into the dream fever.


    As I wondered at the strangeness of the fact that I was the last one to fall into the dream fever, the last scene I saw was Brother Ronat shaking his head with a slight grin on his face. He was probably wondering at how Little Bird and Leaping Fox could still keep at their arguments even with the dream fever upon them.


    ================

 Chapter 8: First Hunt (Part 4)

    Chapter 8: First Hunt (Part Four)


    The dream fever brought me into a strange place. A world of white-washed nothingness. There, I stood in the middle of that endless expanse of whiteness with nothing but time and myself for company.


    How long I stood there watching that blankness, I did not know. It felt like an eternity.


    It was soon shattered in an instant.


    Cracks. Long jagged black lines appeared out of nowhere. Not one single noise accompanied this breaking.


    All was silent.


    As these cracks multiplied one after another, the whole world of white-washed nothingness became a pattern of black and white lines. I, myself, stood upon a particularly large, jagged black line.


    I didn¡¯t fall down into this jagged abyss of a line. I only stood there, unmoving. A floating stillness that could not be disturbed. I could not move my arms. I could not even close my eyes. I could only watch as my white-washed world of nothingness continued to break itself down.


    Then I found myself engulfed in a sea of redness. There was no particular scent, nor feeling in this sea of redness, yet I could only think of it as blood.


    All was gone in a flash as I woke up inside the cave we had prepared beforehand.


    I was the first one to wake up among all my infected Brothers. At the entrance of the cave, I found Brother Ronat who stood as still as stone, leaning against the wall of the cave. He gave a short nod at me.


    He¡¯s a silent one, Brother Ronat was. Even more silent than Big Bear or Big Bird. He was also the smallest and the youngest out of all of us. He had dark grey eyes that looked haunted one second, and meek the next second. His body itself projected a weakness, though he was far from weak. A strange combination, Brother Ronat was.


    It was why we were so protective of him.


    ¡°How long was I out,¡± I asked, curious at being the first one awake.


    Brother Ronat raised four fingers toward me.


    ¡°Four hours?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Four minutes.¡±


    The surprise must have shown on my face, because Brother Ronat shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Was hoping you could tell me yourself.¡± It was a long sentence, the most I had heard Brother Ronat speak all day.


    I shrugged at that. ¡°Perhaps I didn¡¯t get as much Arachne blood in me as I previously thought.¡±


    ¡°Possibly,¡± he said after a somewhat uncomfortable silence.


    I couldn¡¯t tell what he was thinking. Perhaps it was my tone, or perhaps he was being mindful of my injuries, but he didn¡¯t speak anymore after that.


    ¡°I will go get a breath of fresh air,¡± I said. He nodded. I took up my blade-spear and left the cave.


    It was still late afternoon, almost night. But the faint traces of the moon¡¯s crescent figure was already visible. I inspected my blade-spear once, twice-over. It was useful to do that after a difficult fight. A weapon, even as strongly forged as the blade-spear in my hands, could fall to the nemesis of all weapons and life¡ªwear and tear.


    I almost gasped in surprise upon my inspection. Not at my weapon, but at my body. My hands, which had been full of bruises and small cuts after the fight, were no longer injured. They looked clean. Like hands that had never seen battle before. They still sported their usual callouses, but they looked clean.


    I looked down at my chest. It was also uninjured.


    Now I knew why Brother Ronat did not question me after seeing me wake up so quickly, nor why he was not the littlest bit surprised at that quick dream fever of mine. He had probably seen me heal in my fever.


    I bit my lips. Strange. Did my wounds healing have something to do with that dream? The Arachne¡¯s blood? Or did it have to do with how I felt as if I was Surging last night.


    I walked toward a relatively quiet spot in the forest. In the northern forests, there were no true quiet spots. There was only a relative silence.


    The sound of my stomach growling only added to this relative silence. I realized that I was hungry. Ravenous, actually. I could have eaten a whole Scylla by myself at the moment.


    Us Demona Hunters healed quickly. But not this quickly. Not at the rate my wounds had closed over, not even leaving any scabs. It usually took a few hours for wounds the size of a hand¡¯s length to form scabs. It varies with each individual Hunter and the age of the Hunter, but for us, it was a few hours. For the older Hunters, it would only take them at the most two hours, perhaps even less. And that was for bigger and somewhat deeper wounds.


    I put the matter out of my mind for the moment, obeying the call of my hunger.


    Under the darkening reddish colored sky, under the cover of the canopies, I felt more confident than I had ever felt before. I felt stronger. Quicker. Sharper. And keener. I felt as if I could take on a Scylla by myself easily.


    Still, I didn¡¯t let my confidence overtake me.


    Overconfidence was the predator of all men and beasts, Demona and others included. A Hunter should never let overconfidence take advantage of him, Hunter would always say. It led to an early trip to the grave.


    It took ten minutes at most before I tracked down a den of Brown Burrowers. By then, the late afternoon had become night.


    Brown Burrowers were small furry creatures that looked like mice, only they were five times as large and more than five times as dangerous. The claws of Brown Burrowers were sharp enough to cut through the woods of the northern forests. It took at least that much to dig dens in the forests here.


    The northern forests was not a kind place. Only the meanest, cleverest, and strongest creatures would survive.


    Of course, like everything else, it came with a mix-bag. The Bristles we had fought this morning were prime examples. They were slightly strong creatures. Strong, but stupid. And stupidity was liable to get you killed no matter how strong you were.


    Unless of course you had a strength strong enough to pierce the skies and the heavens. Then you could be stupid however you want.


    Some dragons, I had heard stories from the travelers that came from the western highlands which was located past the Mira Swamp, were just plain stupid. But they had the strength to back up their stupidity. The advice in that story was, in short: don¡¯t mess with a dragon.


    The den of Brown Burrowers was hidden cleverly between yellow-green grasses that had grown over the hole. I saw through it easily.


    It was a family of five Brown Burrowers.


    I killed them all. Then I drank their blood and ate their flesh raw.


    They couldn¡¯t even put up a fight. Each swing of my blade-spear found its target, easily killing the creature.


    Did I felt sad? Or perhaps even pity? I didn¡¯t know the answers to that. I left the philosophizing behind in the dirt that night as my blood boiled with a living fire, which was begging to be let out.


    Even after eating them all, and drinking their blood, my stomach was not satisfied. I had an ache for bigger prey. I wiped the blood from my face and started to look for more tracks.


    Drinking blood is a messy business, let me tell you; especially when it is drunk straight from a still-warm body.


    That night, I went around hunting to my utmost limits, only going back to the cave when I had my fill. It was an impossible night. I had probably drank more blood and ate more flesh that I could in a week¡¯s worth of time.


    By the time I returned, all six of my Brothers were wide awake and sitting around a small fire, digging into their own hunted preys. Their wounds had already become scabs, some of them even looking as if they had completely healed.


    It was a long hunt.


    My Brothers nodded at my return, saying only a few comments of how I was the first one to wake up. They envied my natural healing ability. It was just that. There was no surprise on their faces. Neither could I make out any suppressed emotions.


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    I glanced at Brother Ronat.


    He didn¡¯t meet my eyes. He only dug into his food silently. Brother Ronat hadn¡¯t told any of my Brothers. He had kept his silence for some reason.


    I was thankful.


    =========


    The next day, from morning to afternoon, we tracked down a pack of creatures called the Grey Lamenters, which looked similar to wolves. Twice as large as normal wolves and twice the heads.


    There were ten members in the pack, excluding the three-headed mutant Grey Lamenter. The mutant leader was rare, almost as rare as the purple male Arachne. In the northern forests, there were probably only a few of these packs that had the red-furred mutant leaders.


    The point value of the pack of Grey Lamenters was instantly raised from twenty-five points to fifty points with the addition of the mutant leader.


    Brother Big Bear was the star of the hunt. He challenged the mutant leader into a one on one duel while the rest of us dealt with the Grey Lamenters.


    We finished our fights first, somewhat easily taking down all ten of the Grey Lamenters. The creatures had good teamwork, coming at us from between trees, attacking from high ground, and even grouping into random pair attacks.


    But we had better teamwork. It became easier after we thinned down their numbers into seven members and after we trapped them, preventing them from utilizing their ambush and run tactics. They were agile creatures, making us work hard to catch them.


    When all was said and done, we settled down to watch Brother Big Bear deal with the mutant leader. They were still in the middle of their heated fight.


    None of us wanted to get between the two of them. You wouldn¡¯t too if you had seen him.


    Brother Big Bear had truly gone berserk. There were claw marks all over his chest, which he ignored as one would do to measly bugs. With his own howling, he competed with the mutant leader¡¯s howling.


    I wasn¡¯t sure who the louder one was. And I almost thought they would have attracted the attention of every creature from miles around.


    ¡°Teats of a mother Ronat!¡± Leaping Fox cursed. ¡°Sometimes, Brother Big Bear, I think you would have been better off raised by these Lamenters.¡±


    ¡°No wonder I couldn¡¯t see you during some nights,¡± Little Bird added. ¡°You were probably off howling to the moon with your pants down and your arse mooning the moon.¡± He grinned at his own words.


    Grey Lamenters were widely known for howling under the moons. It was the reason why they were called Lamenters. Their howls were like lamentations under the moon.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to be anywhere near Brother Big Bear if a girlie dumps him. I fear my eardrums will shatter from his laments,¡± said Leaping Fox as he went to cut off the ears of a Grey Lamenter.


    The howls of anger became louder, and the battle between Brother Big Bear and the mutant leader turned frantic. The mutant leader had the advantages. It was far stronger, far heavier, and far more agile than Brother Big Bear.


    In the end, they weren¡¯t enough.


    The fight ended with a hack into the mutant leader¡¯s neck which already bore many other wounds. The blade-spear dug deeply, going through half of the creature¡¯s neck and pushing the creature, which weighed multiple times more than the Grey Lamenter, back. Of course, Brother Big Bear didn¡¯t stop. In his battle-lust, he knew not of his limits. He only broke them.


    The hack proceeded into a quick pull that turned into a small shuffling pivot on his feet, leading into an underhanded swing. A piece of the mutant leader¡¯s jaw flew outward, landing close to where we stayed.


    It took a few more pieces of flesh and fur flying before Brother Big Bear realized that the mutant leader was dead.


    ¡°Well, I for one, would not like to make him angry,¡± Leaping Fox said with a small laugh.


    Red from his own blood and from the creature¡¯s blood, he walked over to where we were watching, handing us the ears and tail of the mutant leader. There were numerous small claw marks and cuts all over his massive upper chest. ¡°That was fun.¡± His eyes looked as if they wanted more battles.


    ¡°You do know that you took on a creature of that is almost near the Scylla¡¯s level by yourself, right?¡± Little Bird said.


    He shrugged his hammer-like shoulders. ¡°Could have used a little more challenge.¡± His voice wasn¡¯t arrogant. Rather, he was just stating his desire, which stemmed from his battle-loving nature. In fact, Brother Big Bear was probably the most modest out of all of us. He was also the most helpful, and the one who played with the younger children the most.


    You wouldn¡¯t think of it from looking at his massive appearance, but that was just the way Brother Big Bear was. Kind, helpful, and crazy about battles.


    ===========


    By the fifth night since our First Hunt started, we finished gathering the three hundred required points. Now, we only needed to survive two more days and nights.


    In our tracking for prey during the sixth afternoon, we discovered the tracks of a Multis Gargantuan. None of us, however, decided to track the creature down. We weren¡¯t that confident of our abilities.


    The Multis Gargantuan was the undisputed king of the northern forests. It was the largest and the most fearsome creature. We didn¡¯t dare take on such an opponent.


    Not even its bounty of 150 points could have tempted us into hunting down such an opponent. In fact, even if we had met the second king of the northern forest, who was worth about 100 points, we would have avoided the creature.


    There was just that much of a disparity between the three kings.


    On the seventh day of the First Hunt, we used the whole sixth night, seventh morning, and seventh afternoon to retrace our path to the location where we entered the northern forests.


    The northern forests was just that big, and we had only scratched the surface in exploring such a large place even after five days of hunting.


    When we came out of the forests, Hunter nodded at us, giving a rare smile that reached the usual dull amusement in his eyes.


    ¡°Good hunting, Hunters.¡±


    There was an emphasis on that last word. A sweet musical emphasis that resounded in our ears.


    We were true Hunters now.


    But we had only begun to climb the mountain.


    After all, a full grown Demona Hunter with his full markings could have taken on a Multis Gargantuan alone. With ease.


    We banged the hilt of our blade-spears against the ground. Our training with Hunter would be over when we reached the age of ten.


    There was still the various ranged arts and advanced blade-spear arts to learn. Hunter would instill these arts into us until we would most likely dream about them in our sleep.


    Then, after that, we would learn about our inborn abilities, each ability different for every Demona with their various body types, though ours were the strongest. A Demona with a suitable body type to become a Hunter would be the earliest to unlock the inborn abilities and traits.


    This was the reason for the womb-blood ceremony when we were just infants. It was done so that we could unlock these traits and inborn abilities.


    I didn¡¯t realize it then when I was only six years old, having completed the First Hunt, but by the age of ten, when we would have our Ritual of Age, my journey had already started straying entirely from that of my Brothers.


    It would take me far away from my Piercing Moon tribe and village, and into the depths of greater civilization.

 Chapter 9: Reaching Age (Part One)

    Chapter 9: Reaching Age (Part One)


    I wear the colors of red.


    And my foes drown in the colors of red.


    I was born in blood. I was raised in blood. And I will die in blood.


    -The Blood Father


    I wandered the Magus library, searching through years and years¡¯ worth of books on my day off from advanced training with Hunter. The off-days were rare and few in between. It only happened when Hunter would go for an expedition, a hunt, or when he felt we deserved the day off. Today was for the former reason.


    Hunter and a band of older Demona Hunters along with a few Magus and tradesmen were in the Desolate Forests Range to the far north. They were on an expedition to hunt for rare materials from beasts, monsters, metal veins, and plants. On the way, they would also be visiting one of our closer neighboring tribe called the Sun Cherishers.


    There were a total of eight tribes living near us and more than twenty tribes further to the east and south-east where the Eastern Grasslands were at. Further beyond that lies a chain of mountain ranges called the Dark Shadow Mountains. These were the places where the Dreads lived.


    From the older members of our tribe, the ones who had traveled far and wide, I had heard many tales of the skirmishes between the Dreads and the various tribes living in the Eastern Grasslands. The danger from the Dreads was great enough that the twenty tribes in the Eastern Grasslands had formed an alliance.


    We, along with the eight tribes living near us, were also part of this alliance. But that was really only on the surface. The problems of the Dreads and the tribal alliance did not really applied to us. Our tribe was an isolated one¡ªthere were about two to three months of walking distance apart from the nearest tribe in the Eastern Grasslands.


    With forty days in one month, it was a total of eighty to over a hundred days of traveling, depending on your speed. Thus, the reality and danger of the Dreads was a distant problem for us. Like bedtime tales you would hear in the night and forget in the next morning.


    On the desk of the library, I laid out multiple books related to Blood Essences and anything to do with Surges. But I found none that would give me insight into the troubles I was facing.


    I sighed again. I had probably already looked through the whole library, yet there was nothing! Not even one clue as to what was happening to me!


    I let out a small growl in frustration. Almost instantly, every head in the Magus library turned toward me. They belonged to the glaring Magus disciples and the librarian.


    None of them wondered what I was doing in the library. They knew my face. I was infamous in the tribe. I was the half-Demona half-Wraithborn Hunter who had lost his Surge and his chance of becoming a Magus.


    ¡°The Broken Surge Hunter,¡± they would whisper behind my back. But these whispers were just limited to the Magus disciples who would study in the library. After all, it had been many years since my Surge had been destroyed in the attempted Surge Awakening.


    If Dance of First had been in the Magus library, she would have yelled at her peers and rebuked them. But this morning, she was with Teacher Prina and some other Magus disciples learning about refining Essences.


    I could take care of myself, however. I would have lost both face and pride if I were to be protected by Dance of First, who was younger than me by five days. I was also the more mature out of the two of us, and much, much taller. Demona-born Hunters, matured both mentally and physically faster than any other in our tribes.


    I paid the curious stares and whispers no heed, standing up from my chair and soon leaving the library. Outside of the library in the Magus section, I strolled around aimlessly, wondering at what was happening to me.


    Almost all my day-offs and free time in the last three years had been spent in the Magus library, practicing with my weapons, or in the northern forests. And even though I devoted time in leafing through the papyrus pages of the books, I was still as lost as three years ago in what was happening to me.


    My aimless frustration was soon interrupted by a familiar voice from behind me.


    ¡°Good morning, Hunter Wolf Under Stars.¡± It was a bittersweet voice. A voice that reminded me of my childishness.


    ¡°And to you too, Magus Embracing Flower,¡± I said, turning around to meet the owner of that bittersweet voice. She looked as she did six years ago, even though I no longer looked at her through the lens of childish love.


    Her long red hair. Her eyes of passionate fire, sky-blue. Her slim Wraithborn figure with the sleek white tail. Twenty-three years old, yet she looked like she did six years ago. ¡°I see the child within you is growing bigger every day,¡± I said with a smile.  A bitter-sweet smile, though I didn''t let the bitterness show.


    ¡°He will be born soon,¡± she said, lightly touching her swollen belly.


    I arched a brow. ¡°He?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I can feel it.¡±


    I bid her a farewell then, saying that I had something to do. It wasn¡¯t a lie. I did have something to do. Something which had been on my mind for the last three years.


    Looking back at her retreating figure, she seemed smaller than she looked when I was a child. But I suppose it was just from my new perspective. I was taller now. Older too. Six feet and a half worth of height and three years¡¯ worth of time could do that to someone.


    I headed toward the Hunters section of the village, entering the longhouse my seven Brothers and I lived. Only one of the rooms was occupied. Brother Hidden Shade was reading a book. Most likely about forest and monster lore.


    I didn¡¯t struck up a conversation with him. We only nodded at each other. I knew he didn¡¯t like to be disturbed at times like these.


    My room, just like many of the Hunters, was sparse and simply furnished. There was only a bed, a stool, a chair, a desk, and some various clothing folded neatly on top of a basin. Then there were my weapons. They hung against various racks in the corner of the room.


    I cared for them meticulously, like one would care for an infant. Or a lover, I suppose. I had many lovers. My blade-spear the foremost among them. Love your blade and it will love you back.


    It was a childish notion of mine back then. I didn¡¯t realize it until many years later that a weapon was just a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. It could kill or it could protect. A tool did not judge, only the hands wielding it did.


    Still, treat a tool well, and it could treat you back with the same attitude. You could also wield it to hold lives, like your hands and feet, and to hold a heart. In the end though, it was just a tool.


    I traced a hand over my blade-spear. A shaft forged from the dark brown wood of a Strong-Heart Tree. A blade forged from black Chronat metal. It felt familiar, yet different. I was a slight bit taller than my blade-spear now, which was little more than six feet. I wouldn¡¯t be getting a new blade-spear until my Ritual of Age a year later, which would mark me as a full grown Demona Hunter. Until then, this familiar weapon would serve me.


    I would hate to leave the blade-spear.


    Leaving something familiar was always hard.


    I sighed, then grabbed at the blade-spear and a few other things. Today was a good morning for a small hunt. It would help alleviate my frustration. Not to mention my hunger.


    With that in mind, I set out for the forests, arriving at the northern gates of the village in short time.


    ¡°Greetings, Hunter Wolf Under Stars,¡± one of the watch-guard called out.


    Miam¡ªI recognized his short and heavy-set frame, rare on a Wraithborn. They were usually slim and a little taller, reaching up to six feet. He had ragged dark blue hair that hung in locks around his square face alongside his square nose, framed further by a striking blue beard. Not the handsomest out of the lot of Wraithborn males, but he was a good one.


    ¡°Good morning, Miam.¡± I waved a hand at him.


    ¡°Going to the northern forests again to hunt, eh?¡± he said in that deep voice of his.


    I nodded. ¡°Want me to bring back something for you?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°You want to make me fatter than I already am? My wife would kill me.¡±


    ¡°I hear the spinneret of an Arachne goes quite well with fire-blood.¡±


    He made an exaggerated frown. ¡°Stop tempting me. And that is definitely a lie. You just want to poison me out of jealousy.¡±


    I laughed a little then and greeted the other three watch-guards. All of them were Surge-less and Wraithborn except for one Demona.


    Like the Demona, the Wraithborn also had various body types. In general, there were the Surge and Surge-less, which were both divided into two categories¡ªNormal and Abnormal. The Normal ones looked similar to humans except for their sharper pointed ears and slightly longer limbs which almost strayed from disproportionality. Their skin colors were also similar, ranging from tanned to pale white and ash grey.


    The Abnormal ones, however, would be born with extra appendages, and unusual skin and hair colors. The chances varies for having the traits. One could have unusual hair color and that would be it. Teacher Prina, for example was a Surge-born Abnormal Wraithborn with her green hair color. Strict, but pretty, she was.


    Miam belonged under the Surge-less, divided further into the Abnormal category. He had an extra finger in addition to his four normal ones, and great big claws growing out of them. They couldn¡¯t be called nails anymore. They were more like little daggers.


    You had to watch out for them if you tried to shake hands with him. I had done that once, and had gotten a small cut as a prize. He immediately apologized, his pale blue skin becoming even paler from embarrassment. I didn¡¯t mind.


    I liked Miam. He was a funny Wraithborn. And I didn¡¯t give up on shaking hands with him. So by the time a few months had passed, I had perfected shaking hands with Mian into an art. I could have shaken his hands blindfolded. He was quite happy about it, really.


    When I arrived at the boundaries of the northern forests, probably half an hour or so had passed. But that was only because I was walking slowly, tracing the paths of the earth, and my thoughts filled with more thoughts. I emptied them when I entered the forest.


    Prey was scarce near the edges of the forest. And they were all small animals, none of which interested me.


    I went deeper within.


    Three years had caused many changes within my body. My senses had improved. I had a sharper vision now, almost as well as Brother Hidden Shade. My strength was also no joke. On some days, I could go head to head with Brother Big Bear.


    Those were all lies, though. A fa?ade I put up.


    Hunter and the rest of my Brothers figured that it was due to my half-blood and me so nearing the age of ten. They thought that I had been born with a stronger body than they had initially thought. I was, after all, the only Halfling that had been born with a Demona Hunter type body.


    In truth, I was already far more than that.


    The northern forest trees loomed above me like giant behemoths, splaying their shadows over everything. In certain parts, they blocked the sun itself, so wide were their canopies and their outreaching branches.


    In the three years since the First Hunt, a total of 42 months, I had already hunted every type of creature in the northern forests. Well. Almost every type. There was only the Multis Gargantuan left, the undisputed king of the northern forests.


    But I didn¡¯t bother to look for the Multis Gargantuan this morning. Time was something I did not have today. Come afternoon, I would have to meet up with Dance of First. It would take a few days to hunt down a Multis Gargantuan. Just one morning was not enough.


    I moved further ahead, as cautious as I can be while sharpening my senses. How long I did not know. Perhaps an hour. Perhaps less.


    Up ahead, a ring of trees, surrounded by overgrown brushes. The ring of trees stood atop a slightly elevated ground. A ridge of perhaps five feet. Below the elevation, there was crop of boulders spread haphazardly, as if a giant had gathered up these stones in one big hand and thrown it.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    I recognized the area. I had come here once before on a hunt. I moved toward the boulders.


    A rustle. Not one made by the caress of a wind against a shrub or against leaves. Nor was it made by small animals.


    I strained my ears at the sudden noise, my hands and legs already moving into an Assailing Stance, blade-spear at the ready. A sleek grey figure jumped out, coming out from behind the ring of trees. It landed atop a squarish boulder.


    The creature was a Grey Lamenter.


    I gave it an once-over, a quick inspection. Large for a Grey Lamenter. And the pairs of dark eyes on its two raised heads looked cunning. Most likely the leader of the pack.


    From atop the boulder, the Grey Lamenter howled. More rustling and the sound of dry leaves crunching from heavy footsteps.


    Before I knew it, I was surrounded by a dozen Grey Lamenters of various sizes, most of them full grown adults. There were only two younglings. All of their muzzles were dyed red. They had most likely returned from a successful hunt, and had found another easy prey¡ª


    Me.


    I smiled. A battle-smile.


    Brother Leaping Fox had told me that my smile before the start of a battle had become stranger and stranger ever since the First Hunt. Creepy, to be blunt. It was a half-twitch that looked as if I had an unending thirst upon me. A cold within me that needed to be satisfied by the warmth of blood.


    I looked around me, counting their numbers again. Still twelve, excluding the leader.


    A pack of Grey Lamenters could range anywhere from ten to a little over twenty members. A normal pack of ten Grey Lamenters with a leader was worth 25 points. Add two more and it would be worth 30 points. Add four and it would be worth 35 points. And so on like that.


    Just two months back, I had encountered a pack of twenty Grey Lamenters and a mutant three-headed leader in this area. A total of 75 points, and worth the same as a purple male Arachne.


    It was an easy slaughter. For the whole of that morning, I had battled the twenty Grey Lamenters and its leader, before scattering the whole pack and chasing down the remnants. Then I dug into the flesh and blood of the mutant leader.


    I stared into the eyes of the Grey Lamenter leader, which was just shy of twenty feet away from me. An easy distance for the Grey Lamenter to cut across. So was it for me.


    Mistakes are easily made. Most turn into regrets. Some mistakes you regret for the rest of your lives.


    And a few mistakes you can even lose your life on. This was one of those.


    Not for me, but for the Grey Lamenter leader.


    I figured that most likely the territory left by the pack of Grey Lamenters I had killed two months ago had become void. Then, afterwards, it was taken over by this pack of Grey Lamenters.


    Before the start of some battles, there is this strange clashing of wills between the opponents, as if acknowledging each other. Then in some battles, there is a stillness, a silent moment before the battle begins. There is no acknowledgement in this, only a winner and a loser. And the loser dies.


    This was one of those battles.


    There was no acknowledgement between the Grey Lamenter and me. Only a stillness. Then its howl broke it, and the encircling Grey Lamenters charged toward me. The creatures didn¡¯t know, but I had let them surround me on purpose.


    I moved quickly, matching my own speed with that of the Grey Lamenters. Heading in one direction, I arrived closer toward the incoming group of seven beasts, while in the other direction, I left the other group of beasts in my dust¡ªand dirt.


    The fastest one out of the group pounced at me, its jaws wide open, almost enough to rip my head out in one bite. Or most of my arm, for that matter. It would depend on which of my body parts reached the creature first.


    My blade-spear did. It went straight through the beast¡¯s underbelly, through its lungs, and out through the end of its back, almost near the tail end. There were no spurts of scarlet redness, only faint traces of darker colored arterial blood¡ªmy blade-spear was still stuck inside its body.


    The growl that was still in its throat died instantly, and instead of a growl, it coughed up blood. I had timed it well enough so that my spear would puncture the lungs, slide past most of the harder muscles, and past its spine.


    The Grey Lamenter still impaled onto more than half my blade-spear¡¯s length, I took a step back. Then I swung my blade-spear around like a large club, smashing into the creatures that were still in mid-pounce. The impaled creature on my blade-spear made for a good club. Two clubs actually, since the creature had two heads.


    I heard the crunch of bones, and the whines of anger, half borne from pain as they were flinged away by my club. The four of them went down for a while. I didn¡¯t pay any more attention to them.


    There were more important matters behind my back.


    I made a soft turn, and with a quick spin of my spear, the hilt faced toward me, blade toward the ground. My foot moved in procession, and I booted the corpse of the beast from my blade-spear.


    Once done, I was just in time to see the five other Grey Lamenters sprinting toward me, just about two spears length away. Further behind, the Grey Lamenter leader had gotten off its boulder and was rushing toward me, already having closed half the distance between us. Their thick thigh muscles tensed and bulged from the strain as they rushed at me, most likely preparing to pounce.


    They didn¡¯t. Instead, two of them on each side split up to flank both my right and left sides. Smart. But they were outmatched today. A second or two was wasted as they flanked around to my sides.


    Just a mere second or two, but it was enough. Already in lower Assailing Stance once again, I entered Executing Moon using the momentum gained from sprinting toward the Grey Lamenter to the front of me. Like the name suggests, Executing Moon was an overhanded swing that came rushing down like an executioner, like the scythe of a death god. The left head of the Grey Lamenter almost split in half, and I felt the resistance as my blade-spear cut through both skull and brain matters. The force of the swing flattened its whole body into the ground, and its other head carved a small dent into the ground, muzzle first.


    I sidestepped the dying creature¡¯s body, and rushed headlong toward the Grey Lamenter leader. Stronger, quicker, smarter, and larger than the rest of the Grey Lamenters, it fitted the role of the alpha and the leader perfectly.


    It was a shame it didn¡¯t make a howl to signal a retreat. That would have been a smart decision.


    The Grey Lamenter charged toward me, crunching and throwing up both leaves and dirt with each step. I evaded the attempted bite and swipe from the beast by sidestepping to its right side, then moving into Small Whirlwind with a wheeling turn.


    The blade-spear bit deeply into its side. I didn¡¯t let it end there. Continuing the flow, I moved into Big Whirlwind, this time with a bigger wheeling turn that used both shoulders and the full range of my waist.


    An agonizing howl, lamentation at its darkest nature, accompanied the deeper gouging of its side.


    I had no doubts in me, nor fear, just a desire to finish the one-sided battle. Without even pausing for breath, I stuck the blade-spear into the soft side of its right neck. Quick and easy. A push, a twist, and a pull. I did the same for the other head.


    Then I did the same for the other surviving Grey Lamenters. They didn¡¯t run far after seeing their leader die. Most of them were injured, limping along. I eased them into their deaths. Eleven Grey Lamenters died that morning.


    I headed back to the ring of trees, where the body of the Grey Lamenter leader laid as still as the rocks, its two pair of eyes half-opened half-closed.


    I let a small breath out, and attempted to find a good spot of fur to wipe my blade-spear clean. And a small pond. I knew there was one close by here.


    But in the next moment, before I could even take my next breath, I found myself on my knees, hands frantically planted onto the earth, trying to support my body which was growing heavier by the second. The strength in my arms was fading, and I heard the thud of my blade-spear fall away to my side.


    I coughed up blood. Red against the green and brown of the forest floor.


    ¡°Shit, not again. And why is it so powerful this time?¡± My attempt at words came as a wet gargle. I tasted the blood in my mouth and in the back of my throat. I even tasted it in my nose, so strong were my senses. A wet scarlet trickle ran down from my nose, onto my lips, and down my chin, which turned into steady droplets that eventually gave way to the weight of the world.


    My entire body felt besieged, and each and every one of my veins felt as if it was on fire. I felt my heart beating louder, as if attempting to tear through both flesh and bones, and out my chest.


    My arms gave way to the weight of my body, and I hit the ground hard, face-first. My face on its side, resting my cheek against the coldness of the forest floor, I attempted to take a breath. It only made it worse.


    I choked on my own blood in my nose and throat. I stopped trying to take a breath after that. My vision was becoming blurry now and I could see a small puddle of blood pooling around me.


    Was I going to die like this?


    Immobilized. Surrounded in a pool of my own blood. And surrounded by one less a dozen corpses of Grey Lamenters, their corpses like figures of lamentations looking at me?


    I refuse to die like this!


    At that, something burst open inside me. Like a flood breaking open a dam after centuries of trying.


    I willed at the scarlet blood pooling around me. I willed at my own blood. Blood was what I was born in. Blood was what I was raised in. Blood was what I would die in.


    OBEY ME!


    And it obeyed.


    My will sang to the blood flowing inside of me, to the blood flowing outside of me.


    At that moment, I Knew of blood¡ªmy blood.


    And everything was fine.


    The weakness left me as if it had never been there. My strength returned to me, and I could feel my heartbeat slowing down, no longer like hammers against my chest, shaking the bones of my ribcage.


    I stood up then from my own pool of blood.


    Blood in my hair. Blood on my face. Blood on my chest. Blood dyed me, made me.


    I looked around at the multitude of corpses around me. Hunger afflicted me. It was sharp as the sting of a freshly made wound.


    I drank from the still-warm bodies like a starved rat that had not seen food in weeks. And when I was finally full¡ª


    I felt myself stronger than before. Like I had been reborn.


    ========


    With blade-spear in one hand, I went to the small pond to wash myself of the blood on my body, which was still wet. There was too much of it to dry easily.


    Kneeling beside the pond, I brought the water to my face, and the coolness of it was a blessed comfort. I washed myself quickly. Morning had already turned into afternoon, and Dance of First would be waiting for me.


    I stood up to leave, but then noticed the trembling reflection of myself on the parts of the pool which were still clear enough. There, in that clear patch of water, my eyes had turned scarlet from my previous grey eyes. They were red as blood on freshly fallen snow. Then they reverted back to their normal colors after I willed it, as if answering me.


    I left the pond with just a trace of worry.


    It was time to confess my secret.


    <><><><><><><


    AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. It became longer than I originally intended, so I had to split it into two parts. OTL.

 Chapter 10: Reaching Age (Part Two)

    Chapter 10: Reaching Age (Part Two)


    I had an enemy ask me this question once before in the darkest of times, ¡°What¡¯s the difference between you and me?¡±


    My answer.


    ¡°Nothing. You bleed. I bleed. We all bleed.¡± I paused a little. ¡°In the end, everything bleeds.¡±


    Then I made him bleed.


    And he bled.


    It was true. Well, mostly true.


    -The Blood Father


    It took perhaps an hour or so before I got back to the village and some more time before I met up with Dance of First. She looked as she did when she was but three years old. Raven-colored hair. Verdant green eyes. And taller, but in the end, still a child. She still had many years left for her full growth. She had to look up to meet my eyes. Really look up.


    Unlike Demona Hunters who held the Ritual of Age when they reached the age of ten, which marked their full growth, Dance of First would need six more years. Most Demona needed at least sixteen years of time for their Ritual of Age to take place.


    Brother Eagle Above Skies, being one year older than me, was already undergoing his Ritual of Age. Then he would become a true Demona Hunter and the growth of ridges on various parts of his body would take place. He would also obtain his markings.


    Wraithborn, on the other hand, did not have any Rituals of Age. They only progressed slowly like humans. There was no sudden transformation during the period of Age, when the ritual would take place.


    ¡°Greetings, Brother Wolf Under Stars.¡± A slight curtsy. A slight smile. Some affection in her voice. And her eyes twinkling with something. She didn¡¯t call me Hunter Wolf Under Stars. It was just her way of greeting me.


    It was a special greeting. She didn¡¯t do it for anyone else. The curtsy. The slight smile. She only directed those toward me. I didn¡¯t mistake it for anything else.


    I recognized it as childish love.


    And just perhaps because I saw something of myself in her, I didn¡¯t acknowledge it. Or perhaps because she was still too young. Both mentally and physical, though she was only five days younger than me and smart for her age. I didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°Greetings, Sister Dance of First,¡± I said, making a gesture of equals with one hand. Our tribe had many gestures involving the hands.


    The gesture of equals. Of respect. Of affection. Of Sympathy. Of praise. Of ridicule. Of contempt. Of farewell.


    We had many gestures to convey our feelings with our hands when words were not enough. I didn¡¯t like using them. Neither did my brothers. We found that words were always enough between us all.


    Ever since that night of marriage between Hunter and Magus Embracing Flower, that night of silence under the shadows of the bonfire, of the moon, Dance of First had made it her top priority to spend time with me whenever I was free.


    It was akin to that of a little sister following you everywhere, of a little Ronat following her mother.


    I smiled at that image.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny, Brother Wolf?¡± Her lips formed a pout.


    I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡±


    She gave a small sigh. ¡°You are always secretive these days. I could almost think you are a Brown Burrower.¡± Her eyes held a glint. ¡°Or that you are meeting with someone else.¡±


    I gave a small laugh at that. ¡°The only ones I meet up with are my Brothers.¡±


    She let out a long ¡°hmm,¡± before continuing. ¡°Well, if yo say so, Brother Wolf Under Stars.¡± Somehow, I felt as if she had paused on a word in that sentence. A pause too long. Or perhaps too short.


    For the most of the afternoon, I spent it listening to Dance of First speak of her morning, and of her thoughts upon the things she learned. When Dance of First spoke, you had to pay attention. There was an energy to her that could not be ignored.


    After a small dinner with her and my Brothers, whom we met up in the Mixed section of the village, I separated from the rest of the group. None of them asked where I was going. They were long used to me going off to somewhere alone. It was a silent consideration that made me feel grateful.


    In our village, each member of the tribe, regardless of race, had a role. There was no currency to be upheld unlike the other tribes and villages, only requests, offers, some small trades, and helping hands. And though there was discrimination in parts of our village, we knew enough to care for the injured, the elderly, and the disabled.


    Still, we had our enforcement guards, the tight-knit group of Hunters, the diverse Magus, the Profession leaders and the Council of Elders, of which Hunter had a place in. These were causes of friction, and the most powerful causes were from the Magus, the Hunters, and the Profession leaders.


    I had found, in my many years and almost in every world¡ªstrength and influence spoke.


    Back then, my Brothers and I, though Hunters, were still mere children who had not even undergone their Ritual of Age, so we knew nothing of the deeper layers in our tribe.


    Early night had fallen.


    And I wondered about the secrets I kept as I walked aimlessly around. If I were to confess, it would have to be to the Magus Elders, or perhaps Magus Embracing Flower. I could also tell Hunter about it, but he was on an expedition. And even if I told him, what insights could he give me? I had already scoured the whole Magus library for such insights. I had already used every resources I could think off. No, I only had the Magus Elders to turn to.


    There¡¯s a funny thing about secrets I have learned in the years. A newly obtained secret, however big or small, is easy to let go off. But a secret kept under age-old cobwebs, hidden under long-gone dust of dust, and pushed to the deepest abysses of your mind, is the hardest to let go off. No matter how small or how big of a secret it is.


    The longest kept is always the hardest to let go. Familiarity, Brothers, is a more frightening concept than the unknown.


    Even three years was too long of a time for me. I wondered at whether to confess.


    Ever since the nights of the First Hunt, there had been strange changes within my body. I was stronger, faster, and keener. They were subtle changes, and I didn¡¯t notice it until two years had passed by since the First Hunt. But with each new beast I had never hunted before, with each new blood I had never tasted before, I grew stronger, faster, and keener. So slight of a change that I did not notice with each kill, with each new blood, but they totaled up.


    Then, there came the convulsions. The sickening warmth of the blood in my veins. The fire that seemed to burn through my veins and organs like a molten river of fury. The screams that died in my throat. The thirst brought to life afterwards, as if a whole ocean of blood would not be enough to satisfy.


    There were the random convulsions also. They came hard and fast, leaving a seemingly never-ending weakness, and left even faster. Each increasing occurrences, each increasingly stronger convulsion, I lost more and more blood. Then I woke up stronger that I was before.


    They came at random intervals, but never when they were people around. It was as if my blood had a mind of its own, a goal of its own. Something mysterious, something unreasonable.


    My mind flashed to the night of the Surge Awakening. The cold dullness of the black dagger. The white bone of its hilt. And the sharpness slowly descending upon my chest. Of Elder Magus Zelas, his black cowl that overshadowed his face, his black robe that nestled his bone-thin figure. Of Teacher Embracing Flower and her frightened look. Of me. Or for me.


    A blinding flash. A sharp agony in my mind. Then I remembered the words spoken in the language of Knowing.


    ¡°The blood of kin¡­the Essences of blood¡­Foci¡­prayers to the All Mother and the All Father.¡±


    Realization hit me.


    ¡°The Essences of blood,¡± I murmured softly to myself under the cover of the slowly darkening night skies, ¡°and Foci.¡± Those words should not have belonged in the chants of the Surge Awakening. It was an unknown factor. It should not have been in there!


    All the books on Surge Awakenings in the Magus Library told nothing of the Essences of blood. There was only the blood of kin and a few other chants. There had been a change in the attempted Surge Awakening I had undergone.


    Why had I not connected these things before? Why? Even though memories of that night came rushing back to me whenever the convulsions struck.


    My palms ached with a stinging pain. I had not even realized that I had been clenching my fist so hard that my nails had drawn blood.


    Elder Magus Zelas. The cause of it all.


    Determination welled inside me, and not a small amount of anger accompanied it. The anger steadily increased. It was as if the fire in my blood had ignited the anger, until it became too large for my body, too all-consuming. It needed an exit, a way out.


    But I didn¡¯t let the anger out. I kept it bottled inside me, under fine layers and layers of determination. I kept it smoldering, biding its time.


    A thought entered my mind. A question that shook my very existence.


    Kill?


    No, I immediately answered back to myself, to that question. I grew frightened. I did not recognize myself. I was itching. My blood was itching. An itch that could not be scratched.


    I slowly made my way toward the Magus section. With me, I brought no weapons. My blade-spear was still lying against a corner in my room. I only brought determination. And bridled fury.


    Being one of the three most powerful Elder Magus, Zelas lived in the very center of the Magus section, his house one of the largest to add. He was also on the Council of Elders.


    I headed toward this house, walking along on the dirt and stone paths of the village. I made my way pass through Magus disciples and a few Magus who were still up studying. Some of the more courteous ones waved at me, or gave me a short nod. I ignored them all.


    His home was finely made. A little taller than two flights of stairs and rectangular in nature with a thatched roof made from Hibis plant. I knocked on the patterned door made of white-washed wood from a Strong-Heart tree.


    It was a sign of his status. Wood from a Strong-Heart tree was rare and was always used to make inferior copies of true blade-spears.


    A dry voice called out from within. Deep and strong. But it sounded pained, as if afflicted with something. I was sure it was just my imagination though. ¡°Why do you even bother knocking? Come in.¡± I felt a sense of dread as I entered his room.


    There, under the glow of a Fire Essence lamp, Elder Magus Zelas sat by a heavy circular desk with a hand cupping a small earthen mug. The bitter-sour scent coming from the mug was strong enough to even reach where I stood. He wore his usual black robe and cowl that overshadowed almost his entire face, showing only a faint trace of his brown tanned chin.


    I sensed a trace of disappointment as he turned my way, the way his shoulders fell slightly, as if I was not who he had expected. Looking closely, he made for a sad figure tonight. There was no trace of mysteriousness nor a trace of danger I always felt from him.


    His black gloved hand moved into a gesture of welcoming. An invitation to enter his home, though I was already halfway inside. ¡°A young night today, is it not Hunter Wolf Under Stars.¡± He sipped at his drink, gesturing for me to sit. ¡°What brings you for this¡ª¡± A short pause as he swallowed. ¡°Rare visit.¡±


    Hiding my fury under deeper layers of determination, I returned a gesture to him. The gesture of respect. ¡°Greetings, Elder Magus Zelas.¡± I took the offered chair, sitting face to face with him around the circular table, which was too small for my taste. Too uncomfortable.


    Even this close to him, I could not see through the cowl he hid his face under. I could only see that faint trace of his chin. I wondered at how he could see through such a thing. Was he blind?


    I thought for a while as I inspected this shadowy black figure before me. I decided to not play with words. He had more experience in such matters than me, after all. ¡°What happened on the night of my Surge Awakening?¡± I was blunt. I would waste not one word. I stared into that black cowl of his, as if I could see through what lied beneath it.


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    His grip on the brown earthen mug froze in midair. Just short of a second. Not even as long as a blink of an eye. But I noticed it easily. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± he said, settling the mug down onto the table.


    ¡°The Essences of blood.¡± My voice was slow as I spoke each word of that sentence. Slow and seemingly deeper. Darker, even. I noticed the Fire Essence lamp flicker, as if accompanying each syllable of my words. ¡°Foci,¡± I continued. The lamp flickered once more. A strange coincidence, no doubt.


    There was a long silence as Elder Magus Zelas sat in his chair, looking deeply into that earthen mug of his, as if he could find the answers he was looking for in that drink. He looked up at me. He didn¡¯t find them there, it seemed to me.


    He let out a short sigh. ¡°It seems the alteration fell short of my expectations.¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand. What exactly was he talking about? ¡°What do you mean,¡± I asked, my voice still calm, not even showing any traces of the worries I truly felt.


    ¡°That night,¡± he began, ¡°was never supposed to have happened. It was a mistake, yet I went along with it.¡± He let out another short sigh. ¡°The follies of a blood relation, of love.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at that. There were more people involved in that? ¡°What exactly do you mean by went along with it?¡±


    ¡°Everything begins with something,¡± he said. ¡°Especially tragedies.¡± A slow moving hand moved toward the black cowl he always wore. When the cowl came off, I shirked at what lied behind.


    It was a horrifying sight. A face blackened beyond imagination, and it seemed to pulse with a dark something, like a beast in its death throes. The entire left side of his face had been scorched away, leaving only a few remnants of muscle tendons. From the flesh-devoid left side of his cheek, I could see the inside of his mouth, flashing white teeth at me.


    Elder Magus Zelas must have seen through the question that was running through my horrified mind¡ªWhat happened?


    ¡°Dragon fire,¡± he said in a slow, withdrawn whisper, his remaining sky-blue eye glistening with past memories. ¡°Incurable, unhealable.¡±


    I had heard stories and read about dragons before. But this shouldn¡¯t have occurred. ¡°It cannot be healed?¡± The disbelief must have entered my voice.


    He shook his head. ¡°Not any normal dragon. It was a dragon of death. Blacker than the night itself. With it, the dragon brought death, decay, and a black flame so dark, so cold, that one touch of it would make a thousand agonies seem like bliss.¡±


    Although I was curious by this story I had never heard of before, I could not find any relation with it to my circumstances.


    ¡°It happened almost twenty-two years ago, on the day my daughter was born,¡± he continued in a voice that seemed sadder than it was before.


    I paled at that number and my thoughts ran wild. But I dared not confirm any of these thoughts.


    ¡°It was a sad and joyous occasion. It was on this day that my wife died too.¡± With a shaking hand, whether from anger or from sadness¡ªI could not tell¡ªhe took a small sip from his mug. ¡°The years before that, our tribe was not one yet. It was split into two, the Demona and the Wraithborn.¡±


    It was a startling fact¡ªor was it a lie? Either way, I had never heard of such a story before.


    He gave a bitter half-smile. A half-smile from not being able to fully stretch his half-burnt lips. ¡°It¡¯s a sad story. There¡¯s a law in this tribe that dictates this story shall be forever buried, left to rot in the secrets of the blackened earth. Too many Wraithborn and Demona died that day. Too much enmity existed after that day. Anger at our own weaknesses, anger at our own shortcomings, and anger at the dragon. It¡¯s how we became a mixed tribe of both Demona and Wraithborn, you see.¡±


    His one blue eye seemed to become even sadder and his shoulders drooped as if a burden he was carrying had become heavier. ¡°Do you never wonder why most of the tribes only have one race in it? And why we moved further away, until we became the most isolated tribe?¡±


    It made sense. I grimaced at the answers I found to these questions.


    With another slow movement of his hand, as if for emphasis, he put his black cowl back on. ¡°It takes all my Anima, all my magic, and all the Nature Essences I can refine to keep this decaying flame from spreading.¡±


    I hesitated, then determination welled up. ¡°In the end, what does this story have to do with me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You should already know the answer,¡± he replied.


    And he was right. I did know the answer, but I could not admit it to myself.


    I whispered so softly that I could barely hear it myself.


    ¡°Your daughter¡­she is Embracing Flower?¡±


    Elder Magus Zelas did not affirm it, but his silence by itself was an affirmation. ¡°That night of your Surge Awakening, my daughter¡ªyour teacher¡ªwas the one who told me to change the incantation.¡±


    ¡°And you did?¡± I asked, my voice weak, my hands trembling. From anger? From pain? From sadness? I could not tell. My thoughts were in a whirl, aimlessly refusing to solidify. ¡°Why?¡± My voice became weaker.


    ¡°My daughter, she is too smart for her own good. Too headstrong. She may not look like this to others, but she truly matches her appearance.¡± He fixed a hand around the mug, as if it could wipe away everything. ¡°I regret telling her of this story. In her silent fury, she began a path to gain power, enough power so that she could carry out her vengeance upon the dragon of death. It¡¯s how she became such an accomplished Magus. Determination and willpower is the key to the paths of a Magus.¡±


    A bitter smile showed underneath that cowl. ¡°That determination was what led to this. She wanted to change the incantations of the Surge Awakening, to something different. Something much more powerful.¡±


    He took a deep breath, half-pained, half-sob. ¡°At first, she wanted to test the ritual on herself, but I could already see the consequences of such an act. I told her, but she did not listen. She was¡­blinded. So I acted before she could destroy herself. A nudge there. A push here. And a condition. I commanded her to become a Magus teacher for a full year before she could carry out such a ritual on herself.¡±


    By now, my hands were clenched into fists so tightly, I felt as if my fingers would tear, that my very bones would break. My blood was thirsting and flowing with molten fury. It would set fire to the whole world if it could. Set everything to bleed.


    The Elder Magus¡ªno, her father¡ªcontinued. ¡°By chance, she obtained you as her student.¡±


    My eyes narrowed. ¡°By chance, eh. Why do I have such a hard time believing it,¡± I said in a voice so bitter that I surprised myself.


    ¡°I don¡¯t blame you, Wolf Under Stars. You have every right to be angry at me, to be suspicious of me.¡± A brief pause, as if he waited for me to say something more. I didn¡¯t, and he resumed his confession. ¡°After she began teaching you for five months and attempted to awaken your surge for the whole of two months, but failed¡­she grew frustrated. But she never showed it. Then. A nudge there. A push here. I suggested, no, I influenced her into attempting the Surge Awakening on you.¡±


    ¡°When night fell, we began. As a father, I could never allow her to have the blood on her hands of perhaps forever destroying your Surge.¡± A sad voice. Sorrowful. Of loss and of bitter joy. ¡°She¡¯s the only reminder I have left of my wife. My treasure. She¡¯s the whole reason I am persevering, still living on until now, fighting off the grasping hands of baleful death.¡±


    The hand that cupped the mug shivered. ¡°If I could cry at this moment, I would. It¡¯s a sad thing, but ever since the black flame of decay destroyed more than half my face, I can no longer cry. No longer mourn for my dead wife. My tears have since long dried.¡±


    I listened on in silence. I could not think of anything. I could not form any thoughts.


    ¡°After that Surge Awakening, she finally saw the consequences of attempting such a thing. She blamed herself then. I feared for her. She would not eat anything. She was no longer joyful. She was as dead as I was the day my wife died. The day the black flame of decay burned my face.¡±


    He closed his eyes, as if the burden of the past memories were too much for him. ¡°Then I used my Alteration. On my daughter. And on you. So that the both of you could never feel the full brunt of the horror of the memories. You see, the act of Alteration is a taboo thing among the Magus. A forbidden and dangerous art. It meddles with the memories.


    ¡°Such strong memories, however, cannot be meddled with so easily.¡± He glanced down at the wood of the table, a gloved hand tracing the patterns. ¡°In the end, I subtly altered the self-blame of my daughter onto myself, making me the target of her blame and hatred.¡±


    ¡°As for you, the memories of that night were so strong that I could only alter a few words.¡± He gave a short sigh. ¡°I was hoping that you would never remember, but I guess that was impossible.¡± A small bitter laugh. ¡°Aha, it looks like tonight is the night of unburied secrets, eh? Do you want to know one more secret? The secret of the Hunters? And of their parents?¡±


    It was enough. I could no longer take it. It was too much for me. I could only numbly shake my head at his questions, at his knowledge which cut deeper than any blade could. ¡°Enough.¡±


    ¡°I am old now, young Hunter. No, Wolf Under Stars. I am so old. The pain is becoming unbearable. The decay each second, each minute, each hour, is steadily growing stronger as I weaken. I cannot even sleep on most nights. I can only stare aimlessly at this sad thing of a table as I bear the long nights.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°If you can find in your heart some pity for this old man, then please do not tell of this to my daughter. I will die soon. I am satisfied after seeing my daughter happily married, and about to give birth to a child.¡±


    I left him then, my blood boiling with molten fire¡ªmy secrets would be my own.


    There, I left Elder Magus Zelas, one of the three most powerful Elder Magus in the tribe and the father of Magus Embracing Flower; I left him in his fine house sitting sadly in that chair, resting his gloved hands on that heavy table; I left his dark figure, his sad shoulders¡ªI left him behind the dark shadows the fire lamp casted. I left him waiting for his daughter who would most likely never come visit him.


    In that cold night, I looked up at the figure of the sad moon as the members of my tribe passed by me, their curious stares also passing by me as I stood there alone by myself.


    At that time, I wished hard. I wished so hard until I could feel the tears welling up from inside me. Until the sadness could have almost broken me. I wished to bury all of these things I had uncovered into the deepest parts of the earth.


    Sadly, some secrets uncovered can no longer be buried again. Some changes that happen can no longer be reverted. Doomed forever by both time and regret, the currency of time.


    I thought of her unborn child, of Hunter who had married her. Of Dance of First. Of my seven Brothers. Of Miam. Of everyone I had ever known. Of the beasts I had killed. Of everything.


    I forgave her then. I forgave them both, as the tears ran down my eyes, wetting my cheeks. It was the first time I had ever cried since my infancy.


    It was a night of changes.


    And I walked aimlessly around the village, as my blood called to me, and as I called to my blood.


    Some secrets, you just have to leave them alone. And the secret of my blood?


    I would leave it alone, buried under the depths of both my mind and my heart. I would leave it alone.


    A year soon passed by and the Ritual of Age came for me.


    But I could never look at Magus Embracing Flower and everyone related to her the same way again.  Neither could I look at the flower called Caranathus ever again in the same way.


    Changes. A frightening concept. But familiarity, ever more so.


    <><><><><>


    AN: Well, the first arc of his childhood is done.   Now for the second arc of his adulthood and the Ritual of Age. Hope you enjoyed the twist and this chapter.

 Chapter 11: Ritual of Age

    Chapter 11: Ritual of Age


    The mountains may crumble, the oceans may dry, and the world may bleed, but my spirit shall never be destroyed.


    Not by time, the master of us all, nor by death, time¡¯s other name.


    It may falter, but never be destroyed.


    -One of Conviction


    I stood facing against the sun on top of a field of small plants. I stood still, tracing the movements of each form of the blade-spear. Half Circle. Lunging Moon. Cutting the Mountains. Arc of the Moon. Snake Flight. Clearing the Clouds. Triumph of the Eagle. And so on.


    There is a sort of bliss in the silence of devoting your entire being into each slow movement of the weapon. The feel of the hard wood on your hands. The feel of being in utter control, of both your weapon and yourself. It¡¯s as if time slows down for you, as if each movement becomes free, stuck between the perpetual beginning and the perpetual end.


    This blissful silence was soon interrupted as I entered into Arc of the Moon.


    ¡°Brother Wolf, you practice with your blade-spear too much,¡± came the voice of Dance of First, like the first crack in a frozen pond. She was sitting on a large flat rock with her knees crossed, dressed in a simple green dress. ¡°You are probably the one that practices the most with your blade-spear out of all your Brothers. If you get a wife, she will be jealous of your weapon every day. ¡±


    I answered her with a shake of my head, not at the latter statements, but at the former. I knew myself that I spent too much time practicing. I smiled wryly at her. ¡°To devote is to practice. To practice is to hone. To hone is to master.¡±


    She gave a small frown at that. ¡°You¡¯ve been spending too much time with Hunter.¡±


    ¡°Not really. Five of my Brothers have already completed the Ritual of Age. The only ones remaining are Brother Leaping Fox, Brother Ronat, and me. We are the only ones still training with Hunter.¡±


    A small ¡°hmm¡± was the reply before she became silent. In her day off, Dance of First would always come to visit me if she could. Today was no exception. She had been watching me practicing for some while now.


    ¡°Say, Brother Wolf,¡± she began. ¡°Why do you want to be a Hunter?¡±


    Her question came out of nowhere. It gave me a small pause before I continued on with my forms.


    It was a good question. One I did not have an answer for. I had been born into the role of a Hunter. I had been given no choice as a child. After eight months in infancy had passed, I, along with my seven Brothers, were all in training.


    Did I truly wanted to be a Hunter?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have never truly thought of such things,¡± I answered honestly. Both to myself and to Dance of First. ¡°What about you?¡± I asked.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate in her answer. It told me that she had thought about such questions many times. There are many things you can find in a pause. Or in a certainty. ¡°As for me, I see it as a simple thing, Brother Wolf Under Stars. All I have known of, as a child and to this age, is being a Magus disciple. I didn¡¯t like it at first as a child, but now, it¡¯s all I can find myself doing.¡±


    Sometimes, it is the role that shapes us, not us who do the shaping.


    ¡°You are still a child,¡± I teased. ¡°Barely ten years old.¡±


    A small pout. ¡°Just because you are going to undergo your Ritual of Age soon does not mean you can treat me like a child.¡±


    ¡°Even without that, I have already reached the end of my growth.¡± It was true too. I was already seven feet tall, the average height for a full grown Demona Hunter, though I was only half Demona.


    She made a fake sniffle, putting a childish whine in her voice. ¡°Don¡¯t think you can bully me just because you are a Hunter.¡±


    I smiled at her feigning. ¡°Yes, yes. You win, Sister Dance of First. You are not a child.¡±


    We fell silent then. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but rather a comfortable one. I shared in the comfort of her company, and she in mine.


    It was a ponderous mood that fell upon me in that silence. I thought of the secrets told in that night with Elder Magus Zelas. The mysteries that he had brought up. The questions he had asked. Do you want to know the secret of the Hunters? Of their parents?


    As a small child, right after my infancy, I had wondered about my parents. Who were they? I knew that one of them was a Demona and the other a Wraithborn. But who exactly were they? I had never met them before. In fact, none of the Hunters were ever told of their parents. Only a few of the other Demona and Wraithborn children knew of their parents. Not me, nor my Brothers.


    I felt as if this was related to the secret of the Hunters, of our parents. But I shook my head at these frivolous questions. I would eventually know. The Ritual of Age would explain everything. It was a process that would take one month and would be carried out by the Ritual Master, a former lead Hunter.


    Putting these thoughts away, I focused on the forms in silence for the rest of the morning while Dance of First sat cross-legged, her eyes closed, and a faint energy around her. She was Surging. I could feel its gentle caress like the wind blowing on my skin. And my blood dancing to its tunes, as if responding to the Surging.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go back,¡± I said. I hesitated slightly. Half a second perhaps. ¡°Thanks for the company, Dance of First.¡±


    A smile bloomed on her face. ¡°You are welcome, Brother Wolf.¡±


    ========


    Two months later, the Ritual of Age came for us. It came in the form of a heavy rain as we traveled through the northern forests with Hunter, a few of the older Hunters, and the Ritual Master. With me also were Brother Leaping Fox and Brother Ronat. We were the only three left that had to undergo the Ritual of Age. The other five Brothers had finished four months ago.


    And they returned changed. The usual ridges that grew on the other adult Hunters could now also be seen on their bodies. And their bodies were no longer plain, but instead tattooed with the markings. They seemed much stronger, like tempered metal, like gnarled trees that had survived for centuries.


    ¡°I am dying, Brother Wolf,¡± Leaping Fox said in a dejected voice, none of the usual energy in him. He was sprinting beside me along with Brother Ronat. We were following the Hunter and the rest of the older ones.


    The cause of his dejection was obvious to me. Brother Leaping Fox hated the rain. I didn¡¯t mind though. The drops of glistening water that smashed upon our shoulders and heads were a soothing cold comfort.


    I shushed him. ¡°Listen, Brother Leaping Fox,¡± I said in a soft whisper, though it came out as more of a shout in the rainstorm. It was a big one, and noisy. All of the animals and beasts in the northern forests had most likely undergone into hiding. ¡°Do you hear that?¡±


    Leaping Fox went still, his breathing slow and steady. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°Do you hear the sounds of the rain? Their soothing drops? Like pitter patter, patter pitter. Spiders hate the rain you know?¡± I grinned at him.


    He frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not funny, Brother Wolf Under Stars. I had thought you were being serious too.¡± He smoothed his long hair, black streaked with grey strands. Like all our Brothers, including me, and most of the older Hunters, Leaping Fox wore his hair long. ¡°Why do you even like the rain?¡±


    ¡°We all need water to survive.¡± I shrugged as if it was an obvious fact. ¡°And blood.¡±


    Leaping Fox only gave a reluctant grunt at that, while Brother Ronat had a wry smile on his face. It lasted only for a half second, but I knew he was amused by our conversation.


    I like the rain. With rain, it brings a cleansing, washing away all the past memories, all the past sins, and all the blood on your hands. With rain, it brings renewal, a rebirth. And afterwards, a new morning. And soon a new year.


    The end of the year was always a time for the rainy season. It rained hard and well in the last two months of each year. It was my favorite time of all. The Brothers hated rain, but I liked it. The world just seemed bigger and better after a rainstorm. There was nothing sad about a rainstorm, despite how the drops from above would seem as if the skies themselves were crying.


    There was just something constant about the rain, the insistence of it. It didn¡¯t make sense, for a rainstorm only lasted for a while. But somehow, it just did.


    After another week¡¯s worth of traveling on foot, we exited the northern forests. On the way, we met two purple male Arachne and a Drakon, the second king of the forests. They lived only for a short while. One of the older Hunters took care of it easily, his superior blade-spear thrusting into their heads, the force of his strength bursting almost half of the head opened. It was an instant kill. Only one simple move, and the beast died. Not even half a minute of time was wasted on what was considered to be the second strongest creature in the northern forests.


    It made me realize that I was still far too weak in comparison to the older Hunters. When I had fought a Drakon, a two-headed serpentine creature that walked fully upright on four legs and had two arms that could rip a young tree from its roots, it had taken me close to an hour. I had to run circles around the creature, slowly whittling it away, like cutting at a tree with an axe. Its armored head was so tough that my blade-spear could not even penetrate through it. In the end, the creature died from having bled out.


    I looked at the Hunter who had killed the Drakon. He was one of the older ones, and had a sparsely grown beard with his black hair tied into a ponytail. His muscles flexed with a controlled strength, his grip on the fearsome blade-spear was as steady as a mountain, and his markings glowed with a faint sheen. A Hunter who had fully grown into his powers was not to be underestimated.


    ¡°So this is the grassland between the northern forests and the Desolate Forests Range,¡± Leaping Fox said, his eyes looking at the scenery that laid before us. A questioning frown on his face.


    ¡°The Bleary Grasslands¡­¡± Brother Ronat whispered softly, in answer to the questioning frown.


    ¡°Ah, right. That was its name. It was just at the tip of my young tongue.¡± Leaping Fox scratched the left side of his neck. It was a habit that he did often when he was feeling sheepish. Names and forest lore were not one of Leaping Fox¡¯s forte. It was strange too, seeing how he had a flair for words.


    ¡°Too brown and grey looking,¡± I said. The grassland, true to its name, was indeed a land of bleary greyness. The grass growing on the land went up to almost our knees and it went out as far as the eyes could see. There were only a few colorful plants, but they were few and far between. Even the trunks of the trees were grey in color. Ash Trees, they were called. ¡°Bleary indeed,¡± I said.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Brother Leaping Fox slightly chuckled. ¡°No wonder the Sun Cherishers tribe call themselves that name. They live in such a grey place.¡± As usual, Brother Leaping Fox had his flair for words with him. He didn¡¯t have it with him the last few days, but perhaps it was because it had been raining.


    In front of us, Hunter turned to look at the three of us, a grey amusement in his eyes which matched the surroundings. ¡°Brother Ronat. Brother Leaping Fox. And Brother Wolf Under Stars.¡± Each name he said with an emphasis.


    A gesture of respect. ¡°It has been an honor for me to teach the three of you.¡± A gesture of welcoming. ¡°I am not one for words, so I will be short. After the Ritual of Age, the three of you will be full grown Hunters. You will have climbed the peak of the mountain, and see things from a new height, a new perspective. But after this peak¡­¡±


    He waited, forming a short pause¡ªwe knew what Hunter would say next. ¡°There will be another mountain to climb, a mountain of mastery. But even after that, there will be new peaks, and new mountains, each more formidable than the previous one.¡±


    Hearing his speech, in my mind, there was a question that I had always wondered about before, ever since Hunter had first talked of mountains. ¡°How far have you climbed, Hunter?¡± I asked.


    His dark eyes met my own pair of grey ones. There was a twinkle of something in them. More amusement? Pride? Admiration? I couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°As expected, Brother Wolf Under Stars, always a hard worker. You can ask me that question after you have feel that you have climbed the third mountain.¡±


    Hearing my question, Leaping Fox wanted to ask his own. ¡°What comes after mastery then?¡±


    I knew what words Hunter would reply with to that question. I was not disappointed.


    ¡°More mastery,¡± Hunter said, the amusement tracing each syllable of the two words.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Leaping Fox said. He sounded disappointed.


    Hunter gave a small laugh. ¡°I will be going now, young Brothers. The Ritual Master shall take over just like he did for the rest of your five Brothers.¡± He gestured to the three older Hunters with him. ¡°And these Hunters will be with you in case of troubles.¡±


    A gesture of farewell.


    We returned it with our own. A turn of our blade-spears. The hard thud of our weapons against the Bleary Grasslands.


    Sometimes, words were just not enough.


    Hunter formed a full smile at that. He paused. And ever so softly, in a voice we had to strain to hear even one word, he said, ¡°good luck.¡±


    Then he left the three of us Brothers standing in the Bleary Grasslands watching his retreating back. Our teacher. Our master. Our Brother. And the father we never had. He was all of that and more.


    Hunter didn¡¯t look back as he entered the northern forests.


    A cough sounded from behind us.


    We turned around, facing the four older Hunters left. One of them was the Ritual Master, who was in the forefront. He wore his years well. One would almost think he was still a young Hunter from peering at the muscular body, the sharp ridges still standing against the power of time, but looking at his face and hands, he showed his years. The hands of the Ritual Master were gnarled, like the wood of an old tree. Old, but still strong. His face had seen better years too. There were wrinkles setting in under his eyes and cheeks.


    On his back, he carried a bulging pack. Judging from the protrusion, the item inside was probably something rectangular in shape. Heavy too, most likely.  In his hands, he held a ferocious blade-spear, the tip of it red. It seemed different from the other blade-spears the older Hunters carried. There was a sense of mysteriousness to it, almost comparable to the blade-spear Hunter carried.


    And just like his body, his voice was also still strong. It carried a strength within it that could not be denied. ¡°Young Hunters,¡± he said, his sharp eyes peering at us, ¡°you may call me Ritual Master, or shorten it to just Master. I shall be the one to lead you in this ritual. If I say left, you go left. If I say right, you go right. If I say kill, you kill. If I say die, you die. In all matters, you shall obey me.¡±


    We nodded. And he smiled at that. A cold smile that sent shivers down our spines.


    ¡°You shall ignore the three Hunters behind me. They are not part of this Ritual of Age. They are only here to protect you.¡± A small pause. ¡°From yourselves and from any¡­unexpected troubles. Now follow me.¡±


    So we followed him. The Ritual Master set a brisk walking pace that almost made running seem the slower pace. After perhaps an hour, we came to a stop at a deeper place inside of the Bleary Grasslands. Grey grass surrounded us as far as the eyes could see, but in this place, they didn¡¯t grow as high as before. They only came up to our boots.


    From his pack, the Ritual Master took out a heavy square box made out of some strange metal which I did not recognize. Intricately carved, the length of its side were about as long as the forearms and the edges of it were red as blood. The rest of its metallic body glistened with a distinct blue that stood out in the dreary colors of the grassland.


    ¡°This box, young Hunters¡­contains the secret of the Demona Hunters.¡± The Ritual Master, with careful hands, ever so slowly, he opened the lid.


    I felt it then.


    Whatever was inside was calling to me. To the blood within me. I felt as if I was resonating with the unknown object that was inside the box.


    I sneaked a glance at my Brothers. The two of them were also shaking uncontrollably, as if they too were being called upon by that unknown object.


    ¡°Obtained by the very first of the Demona tribes and spread throughout the eleven descendant tribes, there are a total of four pieces. Four hearts divided equally among the eleven descendant tribes, each piece of the four hearts as powerful as one could ever imagine.¡±


    ¡°What are they?¡± I whispered, my voice softer than even the caress of the wind on a blade of grass. I felt a fire spreading throughout me, far stronger than I could have imagined. It was even more powerful than the convulsions that fell upon me when I came to Know my own blood.


    ¡°They are the pieces of the four hearts of the Star Behemoth King, a star beast that fell from the very skies themselves. It happened long ago, far before you were even born, far before even I was born.¡± He gave a short bark of a laughter. ¡°And I have seen many years, young Hunters, almost two lifetimes¡¯ worth.¡±


    ¡°The destruction the star beast caused upon landing was as wide as you could imagine. Whole forests and whole lands were wiped out. Only remnants of the very first Demona tribes, isolated far away, survived from this swathe of merciless destruction. Our ancestors then took the four hearts of this dying star beast and with these four hearts, they became the very first Hunters.¡±


    The Ritual Master paused, and his eyes glowed with a fearsome light. ¡°This is the most guarded secret of the Hunters, of the Demona tribes, and the first step in becoming a true Hunter. For your first task, we shall test the affinity you share with the four hearts. Some Hunters have failed in this task, and their failure cost them their lives.¡±


    I held no doubts about the implied threat behind his words, behind the soft whisper of his voice. If we failed in this task, we would die¡ª


    The Ritual Master would make sure of it, and possibly the three older Hunters behind him, who carried their blade-spears firmly in their hands.


    ¡°Become a true Hunter or die,¡± the Ritual Master said with finality. There would be no denying this command.


    We stepped up, one by one. Brother Leaping Fox went up and his hand reached for the inside of the intricately carved chest. His eyes looked awed as he picked up a piece of the four hearts. The heart he had picked up looked purplish and the thick veins pulsed every few seconds, as if the heart was still alive. Still clinging on.


    A flash of blinding light. It dyed the surroundings in a purple hue. And for more than a few seconds, my vision was blurred and my whole body felt disoriented.


    "The purple heart. Of nobility. Of cunning. Of  selflessness."


    Next came Brother Ronat who picked up a pale yellow colored heart.


    This time, I knew what to expect and closed my eyes. But even with my eyes closed, I could still feel the yellow light seared into the darkness, lighting up even the blackness.


    "The yellow heart. Of loyalty. Of vision. Of faith."


    Finally, it was my turn. Inside the chest, there were four different colored hearts, each of them pulsing with a powerful something. Something alien. Something unknown. I could feel it in my bones, my blood, and my very heart. There would be no coming back from this. It would be a change as permanent as death itself.


    I picked the heart that called to me the most strongly.


    A pure blood colored heart that was about the size of my palm. It felt right in my hand, as if the heart had been made for me.


    I waited for that flash of blinding light.


    A second. Two. Three. Four.


    Nothing.


    I stared at that blood red heart, waiting for it to do something.


    Still nothing.


    Then a brilliant white light, far more powerful than the last two. Then I felt myself flying, the wind rushing at my face and body. And before I even knew it, I was looking up, my vision a blur of red skies. I felt a wetness on my body and face. I was bleeding? Why?


    Lying against the ground, I strained my neck, looking at the Ritual Master who stood more than a dozen feet away. I had been thrown backward by that forceful light. A strong force that had been powerful enough to injure me. I felt weak. And my blood felt cold, as if having lost all the fire in it.


    The eyes of the Ritual Master turned cold and hard. "You are not suitable, Wolf Under Stars.


    I looked to my two Brothers, their faces pale and their muscles tense. The grip on their blade-spears were forceful. They ran toward me, standing before me.


    "Move or the two of you will die along with him. He is not a true Hunter. He has been rejected. " His eyes narrowed, as if the Ritual Master was looking even closer. "You shall die now, Halfling," he said with a finality, pointing his red blade-spear at me.


    "And I will kill you myself."


    <><><><<><><>


    AN:


    Thanks for all the comments and the small critique from FirstDragon. I will keep that in mind.

 Chapter 12: Judgement

    Chapter 12: Judgement


    ¡°Brothers,¡± said Leaping Fox, ¡°I have something to confess.¡±


    All of us seven Brothers became quiet at that, looking at the seriousness of his face.


    ¡°The teats of a Ronat,¡± Leaping Fox began. Then he stopped, as if hesitating whether to continue or not. He started again.


    ¡°I confess¡­I may have somewhat fondled with them in my curiosity.¡±


    Little Bird was the first one to laugh at that. ¡°No wonder you use those words to curse!¡±


    We all turned to look at Little Bird then. His words were a little strange.


    Little Bird turned sheepish. ¡°Er¡­I may have somewhat fondled the teats of a Ronat too¡­¡±


    A long silence.


    ¡°What?¡± He gave a shrug. ¡°These mother Ronats, Brothers. They are not to be underestimated. They kick hard if you try to grab at them.¡± His two hands made for a grabbing motion.


    Another long silence.


    ¡°HAH! I knew it, Brother Little Bird,¡± Leaping Fox shouted. ¡°I was just kidding about my confession! It was all to get you to confess too!¡± He shook his head like a mother scolding her child. ¡°I fear your antics may trouble your future girlies, especially Mina.¡±


    ¡°Gah! Brother Leaping Fox, your tricks are too harsh! I can¡¯t believe you are still nursing onto that grudge a few months ago!¡±


    Cunning, our Brother Leaping Fox was. He knew exactly what would make Little Bird tick.


    He also had a flair for words. And for cursing.


    ¡°Teats of a Ronat.¡±


    -Wolf Under Stars


    With a quick scooping motion of his hand, the Ritual Master picked up the pulsing scarlet heart that I had dropped, putting it back inside the intricate chest. He closed the lid then. Carefully and slowly, he faced us again.


    ¡°You should not protect the Halfing,¡± the Ritual Master started. ¡°He is not a true Hunter. Protecting him will lead both of you into your own deaths. You will only die a futile death. And that is a death you should be most afraid of.¡±


    He walked closer a step, slowly and purposely, as if daring us to run. No, he was giving us time to run. There were only about ten feet between us now. In front of me, Brother Ronat and Brother Leaping Fox held their blade-spears ready. Not in the Assailing Stance, but in the Guarded Stance.


    Their stances spoke much of their intentions. My Brothers would defend me from the Ritual Master to the bitter end.


    The Ritual Master gave a cold smile that did not reach his eyes. ¡°The two of you will have to kill me to protect the Halfing behind you. A Guarded Stance will do naught but prolong this.¡±


    The Brothers faltered a little at that. They had killed beasts, true. But they had never truly killed.  Still, the two of them remained in their Guarded Stance, their blade-spears pointed upward, extending from the neutral point of the chest.


    I formed a bitter smile at that. Here I was, the oldest among them, and I was being protected by the two of them.


    I could not even stand up. I felt weak, and I was bleeding in a few places. Blood trickled down my forehead, crossing my brows, and dripping past my eyes. My vision was still blurred, dyed red.


    How that happened, I did not know. The blast and the resulting fall should not have been enough to hurt me. Perhaps it was the blinding white light that had injured me and not the fall. Pain wracked my body. I felt weaker than ever before.


    No convulsions came upon me, yet I felt as if there was one. I felt even weaker than the times the convulsions came upon me. When I came to Knew blood. My blood.


    Lying on my back, even the soft grey grass of the Bleary Grasslands felt like the pricks of thorns, sharp enough to make a grown man cry. Make even a Demona cry. My hands grabbed at these thorns, as if holding onto them could give me back my strength, as if the thorns could carry my weight and hold me upright. But they didn¡¯t. And neither did my hands or legs.


    The Ritual Master took his time, as if each slow step toward us could change my Brothers¡¯ mind. It didn¡¯t. But to me, each step of his was like a hammer crashing into the ground, making it tremble. A step into my Brothers¡¯ early graves. There was no way the two of them could take on a full grown Hunter, and a former lead Hunter at that.


    I made to speak, to tell my Brothers to give me up. But my voice was stopped cold. My body betrayed me. I willed at my blood. Where was that fire when I needed it? Where was that boundless energy? Another attempt. Still nothing. I tried Surging my blood. Still nothing.


    By the the Ritual Master was only seven feet away, within a mere flick of his blade-spear, Brother Leaping Fox shouted. ¡°Stop. I challenge you to a duel. You will battle with me. If I win, you let Brother Wolf Under Stars go. If I lose, I guess you can also take my life. Exchange it.¡±


    He looked toward Brother Ronat, his eyes nudging at him. I could tell what Brother Leaping Fox wanted to do. He wanted Brother Ronat to take me away, flee while he kept the Ritual Master busy. It was an idea doomed from the start. I looked at the three older Hunters behind the Ritual Master. They had impassive faces like great stones looking down from a height.


    Brother Ronat shook his head. ¡°No,¡± he said. A touch of firmness that would not budge. ¡°We die together.¡± He would not abandon Brother Leaping Fox.


    The Ritual Master gave a cold laugh, then directed his cold stare toward me. I felt as if he could see through my very thoughts.


    ¡°No need to worry, the three Hunters behind me will do nothing,¡± he said. ¡°They will not attack you, defend you¡­or even chase you. There is only me you have to worry about.¡± He looked toward Brother Leaping Fox. ¡°An interesting proposition, young Hunter. I will accept it.¡± With a swift twirl, he held the blade-spear vertical, the blade pointed downward. Then he slammed it down into the ground, and more than half of its length became buried inside. ¡°I shall even fight you barehanded. It will give you a small chance to attempt for a struggle at the very least.¡±


    Brother Leaping Fox stepped forward, then he placed his blade-spear gently onto the ground. He didn¡¯t have the strength to replicate the feat of burying more than half of the blade-spear into the ground. ¡°I shall also fight you barehanded then.¡±


    The Ritual Master let out a gruff of a laughter, harsh on the ears. Amusement. ¡°Indeed, a spirit of nobility. You suit the purple heart quite well. It¡¯s a shame nobility always leads to an early grave, young Hunter. You should have taken every advantage I give you.¡± He paused, as if to make sure his words had sunk in. ¡°There is nothing noble about failing. Winning is all that matters.¡±


    As if on cue, Brother Ronat also stepped forward. ¡°Will you give us another advantage then? A two on one fight. It should be easy for one such as you.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it will not hurt. It would make it easier on me. Killing two beasts with one spear, that is.¡± He smiled. ¡°The young ones do not heed the old nowadays. Too reckless for their own good. Fear not, I will give you a swift death.¡±


    Just like that, something in me was set afire. Ignited. A blaze that could set the whole world on fire. But the blaze did nothing for me. I made another attempt at speaking, to stop my Brothers¡¯ foolishness, but the words became stuck in my throat with no release. I tried standing up again. It was to no avail. Again and again, I attempted.


    And somehow, in that persistence, I found the strength to pull myself upright. Perhaps it was the strength of my two Brothers standing so fearlessly lending me strength. Perhaps it was the guilt that ate away at me like the black flame of decay did for Magus Zelas¡¯ face. Or perhaps it was just the fury inside me.


    Anger at the old Hunter that stood before me. Anger at him once being a former lead Hunter. Anger at my own powerlessness.


    I picked up my blade-spear which had fallen short beside me. Even in the blast of that blinding white light and in the midst of my fall, I had held onto my weapon. It was a lesson that had become a part of me. Hold onto your weapon even when faltering.


    I moved toward my Brothers, each step harder than the previous one. I realize that I was bleeding in places I had not even noticed. There was also an ache in my chest each time I took a step. A fractured rib probably. Just my luck.


    I placed a hand upon Brother Leaping Fox¡¯s shoulder. ¡°No need to do this. I will be the only one fighting.¡± Somehow, in the depths of my body, at an unknown crevice, under layers of unfamiliarity, I found the strength to say those words.


    And in that moment, as if on cue, it began raining¡ªit was as if the skies were laughing at my weakness, at my feigned strength. The skies laughed so hard that tears fell. On that day, the rain seemed different. No longer a happy thing, but a sad thing.


    My Brothers did not even turn at my words. It was as if they had not heard them. They only continued warily glancing at the Ritual Master. But I knew that wasn¡¯t true. They had heard my words. The two arms supporting my back, an arm from each of my Brother, told the silent, wordless story. They would stay with me regardless of my words.


    ¡°Brother Wolf, whatever you can do, I can do better,¡± Leaping Fox said. ¡°You are heavily injured yet you want to fight by yourself? In your dreams! I will be the one to finish this.¡± He grinned. ¡°My manhood, after all, is bigger. You know it to be true. I will top whatever you do.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lie,¡± I said, the small laughter that surfaced in my chest giving me an aching pain. ¡°Mine¡¯s bigger. That pissing contest we did was proof. And is this the time to be comparing our manhood?¡±


    Brother Leaping Fox snorted. ¡°Seems as good as any other time.¡±


    Brother Ronat became even more and silent as if he was bewildered at our conversation in this situation. He merely shook his head at us.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°Brother Wolf,¡± Leaping Fox said. ¡°You just sit down and let us do all the work. We will take as good care of you as a mother Ronat does her child.¡±


    All this time, the Ritual Master stared at the three of us with cold amusement, never taking a step forward more. It looked as if he was giving us time to say our last words. His amusement did nothing to warm his coldness. ¡°Are you about done?¡±


    Some say that to laugh in the face of certain death is a good luck charm. A show of fearlessness to all-consuming death, so that it could not catch you, grasp you in its time-worn bony hands. Us Brothers? We laughed not because we were fearless, we laughed because we were happy to share in each other¡¯s company.


    Like all battles, most begins with but a step. This was no exception.


    The Ritual Master took a step forward, and my two Brothers mirrored it. Like the predators of the wild, my two Brothers circled around the Ritual Master who stood in that circle like a great mountain, unmoving and patiently waiting for their moves.


    Among the many arts we learned, the atlatl spears, the blade-spear, throwing knives, touches of poison, traps and a few others, we also learned unarmed combat. Unarmed combat wasn¡¯t as important, for we lived our lives on the edges of our blade-spears. Still, there are always eventualities. A blade-spear could break in the midst of battle, or you didn¡¯t have the weapon with you in some situations. Then, one could only resort to unarmed combat in addition to a few other arts, of course.


    In the unarmed combat we learned, we used it mostly against beasts. Naturally, that meant that we only went for the fatal strikes. Attacking the eyes were one of the first thing we learned.


    But beast and Demona are different, and we had never killed anyone before.


    Brother Leaping Fox broke the deadlock first. He moved abruptly. One step forward and in the next moment, a pivot that proceeded into a whirling kick. Brother Ronat moved from behind, executing into a sweeping kick that would knock his feet off.


    The Ritual Master moved fast. An unnatural speed that seemed impossible. Faster than anything I have ever fought or seen. Faster than anything Hunter showed us. His fists became blurs, and my two Brothers were blown backward with a fist aimed straight at their stomachs. One by one, but there was not even a second of delay between the two strikes.


    I witnessed the scene of my two Brothers flying into the air, and landing against the ground hard more than a dozen feet away. They landed hard enough to tear out the grey grass of the land, throwing up even some dirt. Both of them landed on their backs. Then the dreadful coughing fits. They both threw up blood, some of it splattering their chests red.


    An unfathomable strength. An unsurpassed speed.


    I laughed bitterly to myself. An impossible fight from the start. Even if I had my full strength, I would have also lost in one move to the Ritual Master, who seemed like a dragon descended into the form of a Demona.


    The rain poured harder, washing away some of the blood on the chests of my two Brothers who were trying to still stand up. The blood on my body also seeped into the grey grass of the land. They were dyed crimson as my blood gave colors to their dreariness.


    Move. Obey me.  Why do you not give me strength when I need it most!


    I attempted a Surging in my blood, but I didn¡¯t feel it responding.


    ¡°The young are easily given into irrationality,¡± the Ritual Master said as he moved toward me after grabbing at his buried blade-spear. It seemed to glow with a bloody redness underneath the rain. ¡°They are foolhardy, easily letting their logic ruled by their hearts. But it is an easily forgivable mistake.¡±


    I attempted a half lunge with my blade-spear, willing the weapon to strike at the old Hunter. It didn¡¯t hit. He easily struck it away as one would do to a small nuisance. The strength of that strike, however, forced me to my knees as I still held onto my weapon.


    One hand on the wet ground to support me, and the other hand on the handle of my blade-spear, I looked up into the cold eyes of my would-be killer. And he looked down at me.


    He hung the blade of his weapon high above me, like a red-tipped executioner¡¯s axe about to swing down at any moment of notice. ¡°I will give you two choices, Wolf Under Stars. Kill your two Brothers and I will let you go free. I will even let you retake the Ritual. Your other choice is to die along with the two of them as they protect you.¡± His voice was like a dry, seductive whisper into my ears. ¡°Show me that it is logic that rules your heart. Show me that you are a true Hunter, different from the other two.¡±


    I looked at my two Brothers still struggling to get up, blood tracing the corners of their mouths.


    Two lives for mine? Or all of us dying?


    A voice whispered inside my mind. A gentle seductive voice, almost like the soft folds of a red satin cloth.


    Survive. Give  the first choice.


    I closed my eyes, and blackness filled my vision. Two lives or three lives? It was a simple straightforward answer.


    Naturally, the first choice was better. Was it not better to survive? Was it not logical?


    The decision came to me upon those thoughts.


    I opened my eyes, looking into his frigid stare, at the cold blade-spear that hung above my head like death¡¯s executioner.


    Then I closed my eyes once more, letting the blackness take over my vision.


    ¡°I choose death. Just let my two Brothers go,¡± I whispered in the loud, maddening dance of the rainstorm. The pitter patter and the patter pitter of the drops. Of the cold drops that fell upon my neck.


    ¡°How disappointing,¡± he softly whispered back, just loud enough to overcome the pitter patter, the patter pitter. The steps of death traced my footsteps. I was the hunted prey. Not the hunter. Not a true Hunter.


    A few seconds passed by, and all I could hear were the pitter patter of the rain drops and the shouting of my Brothers, yelling at the Ritual Master to stop.


    Then I felt the wind descend as the blade-spear fell upon me.


    A wet thud.


    Was I dead?


    Strange, I had not even felt anything. There was no pain. Was this what death felt like?


    I imagined the eyes of all the beasts and animals I had killed over the past years. Was this how they felt too when they died? A blissful nothingness? Or Hatred? Enmity?


    I tried opening my eyes.


    And they opened. But there was still the same scene before me.


    I could see the rain still falling around me and the Ritual Master standing tall before me. Then I heard his voice, clear and loud.


    ¡°Congratulations, young Wolf Under Stars, for passing the Trial of Conviction.¡± The Ritual Master pulled out the edge of the blade-spear that was stuck in the ground beside me. ¡°You gave the correct answer.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. ¡°Wasn¡¯t that the wrong choice?¡±


    ¡°The strength of mind to hold a firm belief in yourself, in that of your Brothers. That, young Hunter, is far better than anything what true death has to offer. What survival upon the cost of the lives of others has to offer.¡±


    His voice turned into a sad softness. ¡°Over my many years as the Ritual Master, some Hunters never pass the various Trials of Conviction, no matter how we teach them, no matter how we instill the true spirit of Brotherhood in them. They choose to sacrifice others for their own lives. They are not true Hunters. They do not deserve the true power the Ritual of Age grants upon them.¡±


    It didn¡¯t make any sense. ¡°What about the red heart, then? Why did it reject me?¡±


    The Ritual Master gave a small chuckle. ¡°The red heart is the most powerful of the four hearts. Very few Hunters in all of the Demona tribes become lucky enough to be chosen by it, to have an affinity with it. It is so powerful that the first touch will result in that blinding white flash, a backlash which will leave you injured and weak for a few hours. The one you call Hunter, the one who taught you, he too was chosen by the red heart.¡±


    A small frown, his brows furrowing. ¡°It reacted quite unusually strong when you held it though. Strange, but perhaps that is because you are of half-blood. We have never had a half-blood Demona Hunter take the Ritual of Age before.¡±


    ¡°One more question,¡± I said.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°What would have happened if I had chosen the wrong answer?¡±


    His eyes turned hard. ¡°The worst of the ones, the ones that could never become Hunters in their lifetime, I kill them. The rest, I exile.¡± A sharpness, like tempered steel. ¡°There are no second chances in this trial. You pass or you don¡¯t. Not to worry, both of your Brothers have passed this trial in choosing to defend you. I have seen enough of their hearts.¡±


    I let out a sigh of relief, the droplets of rain bathing me with its cleansing touch, no longer like heavy hammers of burden.


    ¡°Now rest, young Hunter. It must be taking everything for you to even kneel, let alone stand upright.¡±


    At his words, I felt myself going weaker, as if letting finally go off my grip upon the precipice of a cliff. ¡°What does the red heart stand for,¡± I heard myself asking.


    A faint chuckle as my vision faded slowly to darkness.


    ¡°The red heart. Of strength. Of willpower. Of passion. Of radiance.¡±


    An even fainter voice, as if from miles away.


    ¡°And of rage, powerful enough to burn the whole world if ignited. Rest well now, One of Conviction. It will be a new morning by the time you wake, and a new transformation.¡±

 Chapter 13: I am Wolf Under Stars

    Chapter 13: I am Wolf Under Stars


    A hundred thousand teardrops shed under a beautiful moon cannot compare to the one teardrop you shed.


    A smile that could pierce the heart.


    The circles of your hands which I could trace forever.


    A face of sadness that could break the hearts of every mortal who looks upon you.


    Your company which seemed like the first dance of many to come.


    Yet, in the end¡­


    -The Sin-Bearer


    I woke up with a convulsion. Not the convulsion that accompanied my blood, but the convulsion of waking up not knowing where you are. That is a convulsion that can get you killed faster than you could count to three, especially in the forests here.


    And the first thing that greeted my waking moment was not a beautiful lady, but the face of Brother Leaping Fox. His hands were also upon my chest, as if that was the most natural thing to do in the world.


    He smiled then, seeing me awake. ¡°Ah, welcome back to the world of living, Brother.¡±


    ¡°You amaze me sometimes, Brother Leaping Fox. You are almost worse than Brother Little Bird,¡± I said, looking at the two stones he had placed on my teats. Then I looked at the various twigs and flowers he had placed on my chest.


    ¡°Only almost? Looks like I will have to do better.¡± He grinned, then shrugged at me. ¡°I figured you needed some laughter after what you went through. That, and I thought you would be cold.¡±


    ¡°Anyway, just stop grabbing at my tits,¡± I said. His two hands were still resting upon my chest.


    His expression was deadpan. ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t notice.¡± Removing his hands, he stepped away from me. ¡°Have to say, but a Brother can bond quite well through the teats. I should do this to Little Bird when we get back.¡±


    My hands went to the side where my blade-spear was lying. ¡°Well, at least you had the decency to put my blade-spear near me.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Of course, Brother. I know how well you love your blade-spear. If I didn¡¯t know any better, I would think you would rather have a blade-spear than your good arm.¡±


    I deadpanned also. ¡°Your weapon is your heart. It is your hands and feet.¡±


    ¡°Gah, you are quoting Hunter to me now?¡±


    Off to a small distance, Brother Ronat looked as if he had nothing to do with the two of us. He was in his own little world, one where the two of us were not in it. Well, mostly one of us, I thought, looking upward at Leaping Fox.


    I sighed, shaking the stones, twigs, and flowers free on my body. Then I stood up. ¡°How long was I asleep?¡± I asked, squeezing the rain from my hair. It was no longer raining, and looked to be late afternoon.


    ¡°Perhaps about two hours or so,¡± he replied.


    I looked around, but could only see Brother Ronat practicing with his blade-spear. It also looked like we had traveled quite a bit. We were now just before the boundaries of the Desolate Forests Range. ¡°Where are the Ritual Master and the other Hunters?¡±


    ¡°They are all out hunting a few beasts for the three of us.¡±


    ¡°For what reason?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°Something about a transformation and our affinity with the hearts.¡± His eyes clouded a bit, as if remembering a scene. ¡°What did it felt like when you held the red heart?¡±


    I could still remember the strangeness of the red heart. ¡°As if everything was right.¡± My voice became a whisper, surprising even myself. ¡°Powerful, and as if the heart belonged to me. A sense of connection.¡±


    Leaping Fox nodded, as if expecting that to be said. ¡°It was the same for me.¡± He inspected me, looking over me once. ¡°Still, Brother Wolf. I can never get over how you heal so fast. It only took little more than an hour. There are only scabs left for some of your more serious wounds.¡±


    What could I have said then? I only nodded. Since that day of the dream fever, my rate of healing had slowed down, not quite as fast as before, but still faster than my Brothers¡¯. Perhaps it was just due to my blood settling down.


    If I had to estimate myself, I was probably as strong as two of Brother Big Bear put together, and twice as fast. Despite his looks and his huge height of more than eight feet tall, Brother Big Bear was quite fast. The slowest out of us all, but still fast. He moved faster than you would expect for one his size.


    I had also discovered a few strange things about my new-found power.


    I could somehow sense a wounded prey. Not through the sense of smell or through the sense of sight, but through something akin to that of instinct. A nudging feeling at the back of mind of where the location was. For the moment, I only simply deemed this as a Blood Sense. It was a simple naming and described it aptly. There was no need to think in difficult terms.


    Among my discoveries, the most important of them was how I grew slightly more powerful by drinking the blood of each new type of beast I killed in battle; the extent of my improvement scaled with the potential of the slaughtered enemy.  It was only slight changes, barely noticeable, but they all added up. I had only noticed it after I had hunted almost every type of beast in the northern forests.


    In my excitement as a child, finding out that I could gain strength through such a method, I had aptly named it ¡°usurping new blood.¡± It was only after I came to Knew my blood that I found out that it was the Blood Essences of the beasts that gave me strength. Somehow, my body and blood felt as if it was Surging after taking in these Blood Essences.


    ¡°Were you the one that carried me here?¡± I asked.


    Leaping Fox nodded. ¡°Yes. Brother Ronat and I took turns carrying you. Your sleeping posture was also terrible.¡± He formed a slight grin. ¡°You were moving around, making grabbing hands at someone while calling out Dance of First¡¯s name.¡±


    ¡°I am not as easy to trick like Brother Little Bird,¡± I said.


    He shrugged. It was a motion so natural that you would not think Brother Leaping Fox was lying or being honest. ¡°It is up to you to believe me or not.¡±


    I didn¡¯t believe him.


    ========


    When night fell, the Ritual Master and the other Hunters came back out of the Desolate Forests Range. With him, he carried three different pieces of hearts. Not the hearts in the intricate chest, but the hearts of the creatures he had hunted.


    He took out a piece of a reddish heart still wet with blood from a small pack. We gathered around him. We had set up camp just inside of the boundary of the Desolate Forests Range. ¡°This is the heart of a Six-tailed White Fox,¡± the Ritual Master said. He glanced at Leaping Fox, handing it over to him. ¡°Keep it, you will need it soon.¡±


    Leaping Fox took the heart in his palm. It was just about the right size for holding it in a fist. ¡°Hmmm. I don¡¯t really like hearts, especially fox hearts. I find them too chewy, and sometimes too bitter. It¡¯s like chewing myself.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that, Brother. I think you are pretty soft. Not chewy at all.¡±


    ¡°What? Don¡¯t tell me you still hold a grudge over me prettying up your teats, Brother Wolf.¡±


    While we were arguing, the Ritual Master gave Brother Ronat another heart. Underneath the light of the campfire, it glowed an orange-red and like the previous heart, it was still wet with blood. ¡°The heart of a Sky Vreyer. Troublesome creatures they are to catch,¡± said the Ritual Master. ¡°I had to climb a tree to get this heart.¡±


    ¡°As for the last heart¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait, wait. Don¡¯t tell me,¡± Leaping Fox interrupted. ¡°Let me guess. It is the heart of a wolf?¡±


    ¡°You are correct. How did you guess it?¡±


    ¡°It was easy.¡±


    The Ritual Master shook his head while facing me. ¡°I guess your Brother can¡¯t tell what sarcasm is.¡±


    I simply shrugged as if saying don¡¯t look at me.


    ¡°This is the heart of a White Wolf. It is a proud and aloof creature. Unlike normal wolves, it doesn¡¯t hunt in a pack.¡±


    Leaping Fox laughed at that. ¡°It suits you, Brother Wolf. I think the Ritual Master is giving you a hint that you shouldn¡¯t go off on your own so much.¡± He patted my back. ¡°You should spend some more time with Dance of First, else I can imagine you marrying your weapon in the future.¡±


    I scowled at him. I will give Brother Leaping Fox at least this much. He liked to run his mouth off a lot and play tricks. But he was perceptive. Then again, that was only when he wanted to be.


    I let his joke fly over me. Fly far away and true. Let him have his night. I owed Brother Leaping Fox today.


    Holding the heart in my hand, I waited patiently as the Ritual Master took out the intricate blue chest again. As soon as it was opened, I felt the strange pulling of the hearts of the star beast, the connection as if the hearts were a part of me.


    ¡°As you know, each of the Demona is born with certain traits and inborn abilities which require the womb-blood ceremony to unlock them. These abilities and traits, however, are almost negligible for the normal Demona. They are only seen strongly in Hunters. For Hunter Leaping Fox, as the lead Hunter has told me, he is born with an ability for his aim to fly far and true. As for Hunter Ronat here, he is born with an ability for stealth, a lack of presence, and composure in battle.¡± He looked at me curiously. ¡°And you, Hunter Wolf, are born with an ability to heal quickly.¡±


    I stayed silent, not contesting his statement. In truth, I hadn¡¯t been born with any abilities, but rather a Surge which I had soon lost in the Surge Awakening. I suppose regenerating quickly could have been an ability, but I had never heard of any Hunters having such an ability before.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I had pondered over the few years how I had gained such an ability related to my blood, but the only likely conclusion was that some of my exploded Surge had integrated into my blood, slowly transforming it.


    It was probably why I could enter into a Surging state with my blood. I could not, however, sense any other Essences than Blood Essences. I had already made multiple attempts at sensing the other Essences, but all of said attempts had failed.


    ¡°Now let us begin the ceremony of your true transformation. Without the hearts of the star beast here, none of you would have been able to unlock the true power that is granted to a Hunter. You would only obtain a fragment of the true power if you had not undergone this ritual at your height of growth. Your inborn abilities would not become stronger, and you would not have been conveyed some of the powers of the creatures you hold in the form of their hearts.¡±


    The Ritual of Age was a strange thing.


    We held in both of our hands two hearts, one belonging to the heart of the star beast and the other belonging to our respective creature. The heart of the star beast felt warm¡ªliving warm. The heart of the White Wolf felt cold¡ªdead cold.


    And as if sensing the heart of the White Wolf in my left hand, the red heart of the Star Behemoth King began thumping, pulsing with a vital energy that could have belonged to a still living beating heart. The outer edges of the red heart began bleeding. No, it wasn¡¯t exactly bleeding. The red heart began oozing blood from its edges, not from any visible wounds, but as if it was making the blood.


    I glanced at the purple heart in Brother Leaping Fox¡¯s hand. Unlike mine, it was oozing a purple colored blood. In the darkness of the night, the color gave off an eerie glow, a faint sheen that wrapped around the organ itself. It made the thumping heart all the more alien. Likewise, the same thing happened for the yellow heart held in Brother Ronat¡¯s hand.


    I looked down at the alien heart beating in my hand, resonating with my blood as if dancing to the tunes of my own heart inside my chest. Had the Ritual Master not warned us of such an event, we would have all dropped the hearts instantly from our hands, no doubt.


    Slowly crossing my arms, I moved my right hand above the outstretched palm of my left. The blood started flowing even more. The warmth in my right hand felt like a hot fire, as if I was picking up a burning wood. Time slowed for a moment, a second that felt as long as a century¡¯s worth of time. In that moment, I watched the star blood flow down onto the heart of the White Wolf. It was like a blacksmith forging a weapon with tempering fire. Like a mother bathing her child with water. Red water.


    A thump. A tremble. A pulse.


    A living warmth.


    The pulse and the heat came not from the alien heart, but it came from the heart of the White Wolf. And like a hungry desert that had not seen rain in centuries, the heart of the White Wolf soaked up the alien blood, sucking every little drop into itself. The heart convulsed, and the frequency of its beating increased as it became bathed in that alien blood.


    I watched, transfixed by that scene, seduced by its movements.


    A pulse every few seconds. A pulse every three second. A pulse every second.


    The beating wasn¡¯t like a normal heartbeat. Not a ba dum, ba dum. It was more like a low moaning, a wailing that chilled your very heart and traveled through each and every vein.


    I held the heart of the White Wolf up to my mouth. Still pulsing, still wailing. No, it had turned into a howling. Like the sound made from a wolf.


    I took a bite, opening my mouth as much as I could. I felt the piece still pulsing in my mouth as I grinded my teeth against its chewiness. It was a taste like nothing I had ever tasted. Unknown. Indescribable.


    First came the bitter gall of it, scouring my mouth and throat as the blood spurted out. Then came the sensation of a burning fire in my stomach that threatened to burst out. I swallowed another mouthful. This time, a sweetness that was unbearable, a potent sweetness that made your heart itself ache. And it did ache.


    My heart thudded faster, like the rhythm of war drums as the battle neared closer and closer. My senses became sharper, and I heard the maddening whispers which seemed to come from every corner, every direction, from even the skies itself.


    I kept on swallowing pieces and mouthfuls of the heart, and each taste was a new taste, of flavors unknown. In my haste, I almost did not realize that I had fully devoured the heart.


    The maddening whispers became louder, but never loud enough to hear them clearly. They were not whisper of words, of language, of the known. They were whispers of power. Of untold dreams. Of transformation. Of the stars.


    Wolf Under Stars.


    Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could almost make out the words of my name.


    The heat from my stomach started spreading faster, traveling to every inch of my body. Then the screams came. They came from the throats of my Brothers, and out their mouths. Then I realized I was also screaming.


    The ground became closer toward me all of a sudden. I realized that I was kneeling down, but my hand still clutched tightly at the red heart which pulsed faster and faster. The blood in my body swirled around violently, crashing inside my skin, wanting to escape.


    My mind grew dim, like a dull light throughout the long night slowly fading away.


    Wolf Under Stars.


    I tried to remember my name. I tried to remember myself.


    I felt a tearing sound almost like the sound of a piece of cloth ripping, except it was more muffled. It took a long time to realize what was happening. And when I did, I saw my skin rippling, tearing as the blade-like ridges grew out of my body, from my forearms, from my spine, from my shoulder blades. They were a reddish color that glowed unearthly under the light of the campfire. From these ridges, my blood, even redder, flowed down onto the ground as if feeding the earth.


    A name seemed to dimly ring out from the deepest crevices of my mind.


    Wolf Under Stars.


    I am?


    Another name.


    One of Conviction.


    I am?


    Then my heart also felt as if it had been torn apart, as if two giant hands had ripped it apart. My vision turned dark almost instantly, the pain making the edges blurry.


    I became frightened. I could no longer feel my heart beating. A second. Two. Five. Then it began beating again, this time steadier and no longer as violently. I let out a sigh of relief.


    Patiently I waited. I waited for more pain to come, more agonies, and more burning fire. I waited for more of my own screams. None came.


    I stood up feeling better than I have ever felt before, the power flowing in my body now at my beck and call, my blood like a coiled viper patiently biding its time. I knew that I could uncoil it any moment. I didn¡¯t.


    I looked around and saw my two Brothers also no longer screaming. They were standing upright now, no longer kneeling. The Ritual Master moved toward them, softly asking them a question I could not hear.


    Soon afterwards, the Ritual Master blocked my sight with his body, his blade-spear in one hand and resting easily against the side of his body. But I knew that he could have instantly chose to attack even with that relaxed stance.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked softly, his frigid eyes looking into mine. His voice was a soft whisper, but a whisper done right can be far more frightening than a shout made in anger, made in fury. The right whisper can even make a grown man whimper, make a beast retreat.


    ¡°I am¡­¡± There was a silence as I thought hard. A flash of remembrance. I began my sentence again.


    ¡°I am Wolf Under Stars, One of Conviction,¡± I said. My voice was steady and clear-cut like a sharp blade. There was a strength in it that had not been there previously before. A fire that could be ignited to burn everything into ashes.


    The Ritual Master nodded. ¡°Looks like you remembered yourself. Good. There are always a few Hunters that do not survive the transformation process.¡±


    I formed a slight smile. ¡°And you didn¡¯t tell us this?¡±


    He smiled back. ¡°I figured you would all pass.¡± He made a small wink. I was almost startled at that unexpected action from the seemingly icy Ritual Master. ¡°That, and I didn¡¯t want to discourage you.¡±


    I laughed out loud then, my voice echoing the night like a wolf¡¯s howl. I laughed loud and hard.


    My laughter was infectious. Even my two Brothers joined in. Brother Ronat, his laughter a rare and true thing. And Brother Leaping Fox, his laughter a friendly one and also a sort of infection all on its own.


    At that moment, I didn¡¯t know what was so funny that I had to laugh like that. I didn¡¯t know, but still I laughed. Dyed red by my own blood and still holding that red heart in my hands, I laughed in that night. I laughed loud and hard, my howls reaching even the stars themselves. Well, almost¡ªthey reached just under the stars.


    ¡°I am Wolf Under Stars,¡± I repeated. ¡°One of Conviction.¡±


    <><><><><><>

 Chapter 14: One Who Walks In Grey Night

    Chapter 14: One Who Walks In Grey Night


    I learned many little lessons from Brother Leaping Fox, most of which involve words.


    Words to annoy. Words to laugh. Words to love. Words to live by.


    And finally, words to swear.


    -Wolf Under Stars


    There are three different kind of mornings one can wake up to. The kind where you want to bash your head into a great big wall. The kind where you wish you could sleep in forever. And the kind where you do not realize yourself.


    Then, there is the special kind of morning, a morning where you wake up feeling like a new man, like a new dragon, or like a new Demona if you want to quibble about racial matters. It¡¯s a dawning time that makes you feel as if you could do anything, a motivation that stems from somewhere deep, almost akin to that of a nudging instinct. Like a virgin bride on the moonlit night of her wedding. Granted, of course, that bride is motivated and willing.


    It¡¯s like an expanse of snow as far as the eyes can see. And to those eyes, only the surface of the snowfield is visible. You cannot see through what¡¯s hidden underneath, what the wide expanse of snow has swallowed into its great white belly. All the beautiful and all the ugly things covered. Then, when the snowfield thaws, all the hidden things resurface, changed and perhaps even remade anew for the better.


    Sadly, that wasn¡¯t the special kind of morning I woke up to. I woke up to a morning of wanting to bash my head into a wall. Or rather, into the branches of a great big tree.


    ¡°Ronat¡¯s piss,¡± Leaping Fox cursed, moving his head away from a branch that was protruding too far for his liking. He stabbed his blade-spear into the trunk a little above him to get a better grip. ¡°Tell me again why we are climbing this tree again?¡± he mumbled from down below me. Further down below was Brother Ronat. He wasn¡¯t much of a climber.


    I mimicked the cold matter-of-fact voice which belonged to the Ritual Master. ¡°Trees. They signify many things; love, hate, the past, the future. Thus, for the next part of your Ritual of Age, you are going to climb a tree. The tree you are going to climb is what is known as the Age Tree. It signifies growth and maturity.¡±


    ¡°You forgot to add something,¡± Leaping Fox said.


    ¡°Right. I almost forgot.¡± Avoiding another tree branch and cutting away some of the leaves with the blade-spear, I added, still mimicking the voice of the Ritual Master, ¡°And because it gives me some pleasure in torturing young Hunters.¡±


    ¡°You know something, Brother Wolf?¡±


    ¡°What,¡± I said.


    Leaping Fox grunted down below as another swing of his blade-spear went through some various twigs and leaves in his way. ¡°Foxes aren¡¯t made to climb.¡±


    ¡°Neither are Ronats. Yet I do not see Brother Ronat complaining,¡± I said. ¡°In fact, neither are wolves.¡±


    He made a point of ignoring me, continuing on. ¡°Foxes are made to live free, surrounded by its brethren, and most importantly, made to live on the ground.¡±


    With some strength, I stuck the tip of my blade-spear into a particularly thick layer of bark, then sat on a branch. The Age Tree was a gigantic sight to behold, possibly reaching up to eight hundred feet, and each of its branches as wide as a Demona lying down. The base of the Age Tree was also so thick that it would probably take a whole minute to walk around it.


    ¡°Actually, there is a species of foxes called the Climber Fox in the Southern Flatlands,¡± I said. ¡°They are black-furred creatures with claws made for climbing and bodies that can glide from one tree to another.¡±


    ¡°Now you are just pulling my spears, Brother Wolf.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± added Brother Ronat in his quiet voice which reminded me of ripples in a lake. A strange relation, I know.


    ¡°Not you too, Brother Ronat,¡± Leaping Fox complained. ¡°Now it is just two against one. Play fair.¡±


    We continued climbing upward, not even reaching halfway yet. ¡°That¡¯s only because you are complaining, Brother Leaping Fox,¡± I said.


    ¡°Complaints are the groundwork of life,¡± Leaping Fox said in a lecturing tone. ¡°They are also the reasons for motivation.¡±


    Just like that, we climbed our way to the top of the tree, spending the whole of the morning in the process. Along the way, we listened to the complaints and curses of Brother Leaping Fox which came at a set frequency. Every ten layers of branches and leaves we went through, there would come a complaint or a curse. There were more curses than complaints, I counted¡ªI had nothing else to do aside from climbing. It was a good way to waste time.


    The leaves of an Age Tree are marvelous pieces of work. They are crafted for beauty. Red, yellow, and green. They range from these three colors, some leaves even having a splash of each color. But it was not their colors that were the most beauteous. It was the shape of the leaves, some of them like lances with various lobes, others shaped like fine sword¡ªall of them pointy enough to poke an eye out if one wasn¡¯t careful.


    I found them hateful by the time the top of the tree was finally in sight, Brother Leaping Fox even more so. And even Brother Ronat had a somewhat murderous look on his face by the time we reached the top of the tree.


    There¡¯s something special in reaching the top. The top of anything, in fact. A mountain. A cliff. A hill. A competition. Your perspective changes after reaching that top. You look over and down, and far and wide.


    The sight at the top of the Age Tree as I stood on a thin branch, but not thin enough to break under my weight, was stunning, a mysterious allure that could not be described. Everything looked smaller from that height. It felt as if one could do anything, achieve everything.


    The skies and clouds themselves seemed closer, as if one could grab at them. I felt like shouting, howling from atop the Age Tree, underneath the invisible stars. An emotion that put fire in the blood. It was a feeling of exultation, of pride


    And Brother Leaping Fox ruined that feeling.


    ¡°That¡¯s it? I don¡¯t feel changed. Rather, I feel like I am about to piss myself. I don¡¯t really like heights.¡± He smiled from the closest branch to me. ¡°That reminds me, Brothers. Let¡¯s have a pissing contest from atop here. We might even hit the Ritual Master if we are lucky. He will probably think it rain or something.¡±


    ¡°¡­¡±


    Then, there was the long climb down.


    When we finally reached the ground, all of us had murderous looks on our faces, and we were all sick of the sight of trees, not matter how beautiful the sight was at the top.


    The Ritual Master gave a loud purposeful laughter that bounced off the nightmarish Age Trees. The one we had climbed was the tallest Age Tree, close to the center of the forest right at the furthest end of the Desolate Forests Range.


    The three older Hunters behind him also formed small grins. They had most likely experienced the climb when they had been young too. No doubt, they were happy that we were in their fur-tipped boots.


    ¡°Are you ready for your next task?¡± the Ritual Master asked.


    We nodded hesitantly. If it was going the way this morning had went, we were in for a tiring time.


    ¡°Good. Young ones should be enthusiastic.¡± A small smile that showed the tips of his teeth, his eight fangs. ¡°Good. Good. Now climb it again two more times,¡± he said dryly, pointing a thick finger at the Age Tree.


    Leaping Fox groaned loudly, then muttered to himself. ¡°I am not Little Bird or Eagle Above Skies. They are the climbers in our group. That said, I wonder how Big Bear managed to climb the tree three times.¡±


    With that, we climbed.


    The first climb to the top is special¡ªyour perspective changes. The second climb? It also changes. But the third climb? You only have the desire to jump down, making it a quick end. Feel the rush of the wind, then a splatter to the end.


    In addition, the climbs were only made worse when Brother Leaping Fox pissed down from atop the tree the first and second climb. The third climb, he gave up on the idea, saying he was too tired for it.


    It was late afternoon by the time we finished the three climbs, our breathing erratic and our arms sore. We were each sitting down, leaning against the base of the Age Tree. It is tough work climbing an Age Tree barehanded with only a blade-spear for company and for help in the climbing.


    ¡°Now then, your next task will be to climb a mountain three times,¡± the Ritual Master said.


    Leaping Fox was sniffing uncontrollably by now from hearing those words. I was also close to such a state, Brother Ronat also no exception.


    ¡°That was, of course, a mere joke,¡± the Ritual Master said dryly. ¡°I figured you needed some windfall after that.¡±


    None of us found it funny. Only the Ritual Master and the three other older Hunters did. I think they took a much-more-than-was-comfortable amount of pleasure in our pains.


    The next morning, we found out that it wasn¡¯t much a joke. He still made us climb, not a mountain, but the same Age Tree. The climbing lasted for a whole week, with each day increasing the number of climbs. After the third day, I was no longer the first to finish. Instead, it was Brother Ronat who finished first. It made me realize that the abilities of the heart of the Sky Vreyner he had ate was already showing itself. By the end of the week, we had progressed into twenty climbs, which had lasted the whole day.


    Trees, Brothers, are scary things.


    I still shiver whenever I see something that looks like an Age Tree.


    ¡°I think I am going to change my name into Elegant Tree Climbing Fox,¡± Leaping Fox sadly said.


    Brother Ronat nodded shortly in agreement.


    =========


    The next task we were set upon was swimming the whole length of the river which cut across the Desolate Forests Range.


    ¡°The River of Aging,¡± the Ritual Master called it. I didn¡¯t know it back then, but there were many of these so called ¡°Rivers of Aging.¡±


    ¡°Now this is more like it,¡± Leaping Fox said, a smirk on his face. ¡°Foxes are made to swim.¡± Brother Leaping Fox may not have liked the rain, but somehow he liked to swim. A strange contradiction, but I suppose it was possible.


    Brother Ronat let out a small sigh. ¡°Ronats aren¡¯t though.¡± It was obvious that Brother Ronat did not like swimming very much.


    We were standing at the start of the river, which began in a small lake. Our blade-spears had also been given to the older Hunters. The weapons would only hinder us in our swimming.


    ¡°We will be following you for your own protection. Some creatures could be drinking from the river and will attack you. Make no doubt of that. And none of you are strong enough to beat most of the creatures in the Desolate Forests Range,¡± the Ritual Master said.


    A smile that showed the edges of his teeth. It was a smile that I was coming to dread. ¡°Be vigilant. The fishes bite,¡± he added.


    And they did bite. They bit hard.


    Throughout the morning and afternoon, we continued swimming without rest, fleeing from the hand-sized fishes with sharp little rows of teeth that left imprints on our bodies. Enough bites on the same wounds from these fishes and we would be bleeding.


    Luckily, the sharp blade-like ridges on our bodies offered some protection, however minimal. We also used these ridges to kill the annoyances; the ridges were sharper than our blade-spears and much stronger. Only the true blade-spears would make better weapons.


    We rested when the sun fell or when the Ritual Master told us to stop. Then we continued onward the next day. For the whole of a week, we swam the length of the river back and forth.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    ¡°So, Hunters, have you feel that you have aged enough from climbing the Age Tree and swimming the River of Aging?¡± the Ritual Master asked, a trace of humor in his voice.


    Before Leaping Fox could open his mouth, I moved to cover it with hand. He protested, but I didn¡¯t let go. ¡°Yes, we have aged enough.¡±


    ¡°Good, then for the rest of the month, I will train you in controlling your body, and I will teach you the basics of Intentions. Look forward to it.¡± He gave that smile of his which showed of his teeth again, his eight fangs. It seemed to have grown each time he smiled.


    Seeing that smile of his, I think he rather liked seeing us exhausted and pained. And if I didn¡¯t know any better, I would have said he survived on pain.


    =========


    Over the course of the last three weeks of the month, each week lasting seven days, we learned how to control our transformed bodies, extending and contracting our blade-ridges. It was honed to such a point that they became almost as easy as breathing. We also learned how to elongate our fangs. The fangs vary on the Demona Hunters. Most usually retain the original number of fangs or grow a few more after the Ritual of Age. Mine didn¡¯t change. It was still at eight fangs.


    We also learned how to enter into a hyper state, which boosted every senses, muscular strength, mental capacity, and reaction speed. There is a specific word in our Demona language for this hyper state.


    ¡°Blodvraz,¡± we call it¡ªStarblood.


    This was the hardest part of the training, the Ritual Master had said. But it came the easiest to me. It was, no doubt, due to Knowing my own blood. I was also the one who could last the longest in this hyper state.


    It was about a maximum of ten seconds before the backlash wreaks havoc all over. Any more than ten seconds and the backlash would become greater and in the worst case scenario, I would die. It would be a messy death also. My blood would rupture from inside my body, and my organs and muscles would deteriorate from the stress. You would also become quite hungry after entering Blodvraz.


    For this part of the training, Brother Ronat and Leaping Fox could only last up to six seconds and that was on good days and when they were well fed.


    Entering into Blodvraz, I could feel the blood flowing inside my body, and could almost count the slow flying movements of the insects. What was most frightening other than my improved vision and senses was the muscular strength gained from the Starblood form. Had I fought a purple male Arachne in this form, I could have cut through its legs with one easy swing.


    But what was even more frightening was the fact that the Ritual Master could last up to a minute in his Starblood form. He had said that only with age and training in Blodvraz would we improve. For now, we were still young and six seconds were already good enough. He had, however, never seen any Hunters last for ten seconds when they were this young. Even when Hunter himself had taken the Ritual of Age, his limit was eight seconds. There had also been a remark that my eyes would turn a glowing scarlet. A strange feature the Ritual Master had never seen happen before.


    Multiple attempts were only met with failure when I tried reverting my eyes back into their normal grey colors. In the end, after a few more days of attempts, I gave up.


    Finally, there were the Intentions, the most basic of which was known as the Bloodlust Intention. In the First Blood Baptism, when I had killed the Bigger Ronat, Hunter had shown the effects of it. The Bigger Ronat had become alarmed and vigilant as if a predator beyond its measures had bestowed attention upon it. An unwanted attention that would result in blood and death.


    Then there was the Intention of Domination, the pure force of our transformed will alone which could break the minds of weaker opponents. This, however, was rarely used for the consequences were deadly. It could result in a Hunter losing a piece of his will, memories, or mind. And when used from far away, the consequences would only become deadlier.


    The final two were the various Empathic Intentions and the Pain Intention, both of which we were firmly advised to not use very often. The risks of utilizing such Intentions were a double-edged blade.


    When the end of the month drew near, we were given his recognition of naming us true Hunters. But with this recognition, there also came revelations, the dark secrets and history of the Hunters.


    It was told in a night that seemed to almost swallow the glow of the campfire we had set up. In this, the cold of the night seemed colder than usual, as if even our surroundings were eavesdropping upon us.


    The usual cold, hard eyes of the Ritual Master also seemed to weep with pain. It was like a small water droplet glistening on a dull blade. He made for a piteous figure, brittled and numbed by age.


    ¡°When we are born,¡± the Ritual Master began, ¡°we are born in blood. Not the usual kind of blood that accompanies a laboring. But the blood of death, of the womb-blood of our mothers. You see, on the day of our birth, there is also a death, the death of our mothers.¡±


    He let words sank in as the cold of the night grew even colder.


    ¡°While still in the womb, we drain the life energy of our mothers to accompany our birth. From this, it is where we get the strength that is endowed into a Hunter¡¯s body. We are born as killers.¡±


    A silence fell upon the three of us that almost seemed great enough to devour the crackles of the campfire, the sounds of the few insects still awake.


    ¡°But make no mistake, Hunters, the fault lies not in us, nor in anyone else. You see, the blood in our Demona tribes are spread thin and wide, and rarely is a Hunter ever born. In fact, it is rare for eight Hunters to even be born in such a short period of time. An occurrence that I have only once experienced in my long years. Twins, as you can guess, are even rarer. Little Bird and Big Bird were lucky enough to survive their own birth.¡±


    My hand felt the cool touch of the wood of my blade-spear. But even that familiarity did not feel like a comfort that night.


    ¡°When the fathers are Hunters and their wives are Demona, there is a much higher chance of a Hunter being born.¡± His eyes inspected us coolly but with a glistening pain. ¡°You can see where I am going with it. If ever you marry, you will receive the risk of your loved one dying.¡±


    ¡°As for your fathers, consider them nonexistent, and as dead as the dead can be. Most cannot bear the pain of losing their loved ones. You see, when we find a loved one, we give a part of our mind. The ones without strong will do not survive and even the ones that do survive does not want anything to do with their Hunter child. That is the main reason why we raise children through caretakers in the Demona tribes. There have been multiple cases in years and years ago where we gave a Hunter child to be raised by his father only to become broken by the suppressed hatred¡­¡±


    Even hearing those words, somehow, I found the courage to ask the question that had always been in the back of my mind, bothering me like an insectile annoyance one cannot be rid of. ¡°What about me?¡± I whispered.


    ¡°You, Hunter Wolf Under Stars, are a rarity among rarities. There has never been a Hunter born from a Wraithborn mother, but that is probably due to the two races only joining together not long ago.¡± His eyes met mine and they knew the real question that was in my mind. ¡°Your father is dead.¡± Simple. Blunt. They were simple and blunt words.


    Strangely enough, the impact of finding that both my parents were dead by the time I was born was not earth-shaking. Perhaps it was the fortitude of my mind, or perhaps a delayed reaction, I didn¡¯t know. It could have also been due to the fact that I had never seen them or known them. In truth, I didn¡¯t know.


    I felt a hand on each of my shoulders. It reassured me knowing that I had my Brothers for support. Toward the two, I made a gesture of gratitude. And as for my two Brothers, they didn¡¯t ask of their parents. And I also didn''t venture to ask them. Their thoughts were their own, and my thoughts mine.


    Sometimes, you can only lend a silent hand. Not nearly enough, but all the more still a comfort.


    ¡°It is why there are not many Hunters in the Demona tribes. And this is the reason why there are many Hunters who never marry nor have children.¡± He waved a hand toward the three older Hunters sitting down behind him. ¡°They are prime examples.¡±


    The three Hunters made a laugh at that. A laughter which was tinged with a hint of bitterness.


    ¡°There is, of course, another good reason. We live twice as long as the other members of our tribe. I need not tell you the reason why. You can figure that out yourself.¡± His face looked older in the sad glow of the fire. ¡°With my own two hands, I have killed more Hunters, and taken more lives than any individual should. It is blood that can never be washed away. A stain, and a burden that weighs heavily upon me every night. I pray that you never end up like me. The job of a Ritual Master is one that is cold and harsh.¡±


    The revelations ended on that note, but the mood of that night never once turned cheerful again. It was of a long silence that knew no bounds.


    Soon, the end of the month and our Ritual of Age ended. After those secrets, the Ritual Master had taught us most of what we needed to know and had polished the basics into us.


    We said him a farewell, bid him a gesture of deep respect, and finally, a gesture of farewell. The Ritual Master did not live amongst our tribe, nor any other tribes. He lived alone in the Dreary Grasslands.


    I was full of gratitude toward this old former Hunter. So I moved toward him to give a final gesture of farewell, much deeper than the last one.


    The Ritual Master smiled at that. ¡°I can see you, Hunter Wolf Under Stars. You are a perceptive one and quite observant. Take care not to end up like me. The weight of lives is a heavy weight to carry indeed. Especially the blood of your loved ones.¡±


    ¡°What is your name?¡± I asked, a trace of hesitation in my voice. It was not respectful to ask such a question.


    ¡°I am One Who Walks In Grey Night.¡± A small smile that showed the edges of his teeth. ¡°I have long given up my Hunter name.¡± He made a gesture of farewell.


    I returned it with a deeper one. Respect. Gratitude. Farewell.


    ¡°A word of warning, Hunter Wolf Under Stars. Some secrets, you can bury deep and hidden under misunderstandings¡­but in the end, a few of them still come unburied.¡± He pointed upward. ¡°The stars move in unpredictable ways. Make sure you do not leave regrets. And of course, there is always the old and true advice¡ªavoid the troubles you cannot take care of. I have a feeling you will be meeting many.¡± He shook his head. ¡°And all too soon.¡±


    So we left him then, and the Ritual Master made for a sad figure among that grey dreariness. A fitting name indeed. The Dreary Grasslands and of the Ritual Master who lived there alone, waiting for future young Hunters, and waiting patiently for his death.


    One Who Walks In Grey Night.


    A fitting name, indeed.


    <><><><><>

 Chapter 15: Eraiteis

    Chapter 15: Eraiteis


    Each meeting, each sight, old or new, changes us inexorably. Slight or impactful, they leave words in our hearts.


    A Knowing imparted.


    -Wolf Under Stars


    After the Ritual of Age, returning to our tribe took little more than four days. We were stronger now and could endure many hours of running. It was a noticeable improvement that left us satisfied.


    When we arrived at the village, our markings were immediately worked upon us under the supervision of older Hunters and two Magus Runemasters. The process for the markings was a time-consuming process that would last for more than two weeks. A black needle made of Xeonite, the strongest metal we knew of aside from the fallen star metal, was cauterized by refined Fire Essence. It was then dipped into the mixed sap of a Nature Tree and a Bright Tree along with shavings of Conduit Metal.


    The lessons I received while I was still a Magus disciple and my time in the Magus library gave me some knowledge of the purposes of these materials.


    The sap of Nature Trees which were rarer than even Ever Trees had a high affinity for Nature Essences. Bright Trees on the other hand, grew on Light Essences which fell from the Sun and the stars.


    These two Essences were part of the non-volatile Essences and could easily be channeled through Conduit Metal. The more volatile Essences include Fire and many of its Synergetic counterpart Essences.


    The markings on a Hunter¡¯s body were not simply there for the indication that we were true Hunters. They were there for enhancing our bodies.


    ¡°Eraiteis,¡± we call it. The word has multiple meanings in our language, but I suppose the closest meaning to it would be Runic Enhancements.


    That said, I fainted on the first day of the Eraiteis process not even two hours into it.


    Demona and among its various body types suited for battles, especially Hunters, have a strong capacity for pain. A lesser man in that regard would have fainted in the first three minutes. Brother Leaping Fox and Brother Ronat were no exceptions. They fainted right before I did.


    Make no mistake though, the process of Eraiteis for a Hunter was far different from the normal Runic Enhancements. The ¡°ink¡± of the Runic Enhancement was far from the norms, being that it included shavings of the Conduit Metal and both the sap of the Nature Tree and the Bright Tree.


    In the initial stages of Eraiteis, this ink was seeped into our blade-ridges and the lines of runes from the language of Knowing were erected by the cauterized black Xeonite needle¡ªboth inside and outside of our blade-ridges, which were by now like bones to us.


    At the end of each stages of Eraiteis, we were bleeding and panting for breaths as the powerful sap of the Nature Tree and the Bright Tree were worked through our skin and bones. The blade-ridges we had grown were needed for the special Eraiteis. They helped us survive the potent sap of the ¡°Essence Trees.¡±


    In the Demona race, we also had body types like the Wraithborn except we didn¡¯t have random appendages like the Wraithborn, of which I was also a part of. It was the charm of being a half-blood.


    There were the Demona who were born with a Builder body, in which they had seven fingers and a thumb that could be used for dexterous labor. These builder bodies lacked combat potential, resulting in a thin and somewhat short body figure, but they were generally more intelligent, had better capacities for learning, and were far more skilled in professions. There¡¯s many specific words in our language to refer to the body types, but I won¡¯t bore you with them.


    There was also the Balanced body, of which Dance of First belonged to. They were similar to humans except for the two horns on the heads of the females. Of course, that was discounting the usual smattering of skin colors from the darker hues of the color spectrum. Some of said hues include shades of purple and dark blue.


    Another type were the various Enforcement bodies. They were usually born with scales that protected the vital areas and a few rare ones were born with scaled tails that they could control like their own hands. It served both as a dangerous weapon and as the pride of the Enforcement Demona. In this type, both males and females could be born with horns.


    Then, there were the Hunters, the rarest of all body types among Demonas. Compared to the growth of the other Demona, we were far ahead. Our capacity to learn was only slightly inferior, and if not, equal to the Builders.


    Just like that, an excruciating painful week quickly passed by.


    With a week¡¯s worth of initial stages finished, we had the basic lines of runes inside and outside of our blade-ridges and the nearby skin. These would serve as the focus for the Runic Enhancements.


    ¡°Well, Brother Wolf. Here is to another week of pain,¡± said Leaping Fox as we left the workplace of the Magus Runemasters. He rubbed at his sore blade-ridges, which in turn had caused his whole body to be in pain.


    I let out a small empathizing laugh. I was in the same situation as him. Beside me, Brother Ronat was gritting his teeth, an obvious sign of his discomfort. ¡°At least the most painful part is over,¡± I said.


    ¡°I think I am going to go to bed now despite my aching pains and despite it still being early. I wish to flee to my blissful dreams where pain is outlawed,¡± Leaping Fox said. He made an exaggerated yawn.


    Brother Ronat gave a gesture of farewell to both Leaping Fox and me. ¡°I will see you later too, Brothers,¡± he said. ¡°I have something to do.¡±


    We said our farewells to each other after that. Well, it wasn¡¯t exactly much of a farewell since all of us eight Brothers lived in the same home.


    I thought over my experiences today. It wasn¡¯t much. Most of the morning and afternoon, I had spent my time in the darkness called unconsciousness while being worked on by the Runemaster. Barely five minutes in, I was already gritting my teeth in pain, and after three hours, I had fainted from the shock. The only consolation was that I had endured the pain for an hour more than the previous six days of the Eraiteis.


    Then again, that wasn¡¯t really a consolation. That was more like a penchant for pain. One more hour of pain rather than two hours.


    For lack of better words, the injection of the ¡°ink¡± into my blade-ridges was a rather alarming process in the first day. My blood had Surged at the intrusion of the ink and had fought against it for quite a while. And though I call it Surging, that wasn¡¯t necessarily the correct word. It was more of a pseudo-Surging, for I did not have a Surge and no Magus could sense it.


    Still, it was a very bloody initial process. I had bled three times more than what both of my Brothers did. In the first two hours of my lingering consciousness, which I was dearly trying to hold onto, I had to forcibly control my blood, directing a strong force of will. It was like quelling multiple sparks of rebellions in my body with only a small metaphorical stick to threaten the rebellions.


    Putting these thoughts out of my mind, I hurried onward. I had to go drop by to see Dance of First. I had not paid her even one visit yet even after a week had already passed after my return from the Ritual of Age. She would forgive me though. I had an excellent excuse. I had been confined to my bed and was moaning in agony for the first four days of the Eraiteis process.


    With the excuse¡ªreason, I mean¡ªset in mind, I went to look in the first place Dance of First would be prowling on a fine early night such as this.


    I looked first in the small clearing where she liked to haunt. It was a little way off west on the path to the northern forests and had a few fields of flowers to sport. My luck didn¡¯t hold as she was nowhere to be seen there.


    Then I went to look for her in the eastern clearings. She liked to wander in her free time a lot. Setting a brisk walk, I arrived at the opposite clearings within a few minutes. I was lucky this time. I suppose the second time was the charm after all.


    In the eastern clearings, Dance of First stood still, her eyes closed. In the month which I had not seen her, she seemed to have grown perhaps a few inches. A growth spurt most likely. She was nearing her eleventh year of age, after all.


    Her stillness was soon broken by a small movement of her left arm which traveled slowly behind her head and sable colored horns which were crowned by rings of petals made into a circlet. A rhythm under the moonlit night began. And as if following her rhythm, the shadows cast by the moonlight moved in response, though I knew that wasn¡¯t true.


    A slow half-twirl started as her left arm followed the right arm. And as if come alive, her raven- colored hair, beckoned by the half-twirl, the rhythm dance she had begun, transformed into a darker shade of viridian, though I knew that was impossible.


    I felt it then. Even from this far away, possibly more than a hundred feet away, I felt the tingle in the back of my mind. She was Surging.


    My blood, as if transfixed by the scene, urged me closer. I obeyed, following the slight nudging of my blood, though I knew that was merely an excuse. It was a poor excuse of an excuse. I Knew my blood after all. I knew it well.


    I moved softly, my steps lighter than a leaf in the wind as my boots traveled across the grass. There were barely any sounds made as I moved closer toward Dance of First. There was only the light silence of the night and the light silence of her dance.


    I sat down on a rock behind her. Not too far, not too close. Just the right distance.


    I watched her in that silence as she entered into her Surging. Her twirls came with more frequencies by now, both her arms moving to a tuneless rhythm I could not understand. She twirled, but she never moved away from that fixed spot.


    A gentle wind blew past, brushing her hair slightly. It revealed her closed eyelids, underneath which no doubt laid her verdant colored deep-set eyes which always seemed to be slightly downturned. Like the eyes of a cat or that of a sheena.


    Still dancing to that tuneless rhythm, perhaps of her own making, perhaps of the moon or perhaps of her surroundings, she moved. As if the light of the moon had solidified into drops, scattering ripples across a pond.


    At the back of my mind, the nudging grew stronger.


    And the flowers, the reminiscent pink Caranathus, the Amaranthus with its shy red, and multiple others began to sway, following each of her movement. It was as if she had bewitched them, though I knew it to be untrue.


    It was merely a part of her Surging and the Nature Essences gathering around her as she absorbed them, transforming them into her Anima through her Surge.


    Still, to me who had long ago lost his Surge and could only see the redness of the Blood Essences, it was as if the bewitched flowers themselves were dancing to her tunes. To the dance she displayed before them.


    A dance of first, the thought entered my mind.


    Silently, unwilling to break the mood, I continued watching her. For how long I sat there considering her moonlit figure, I do not know. Perhaps an hour. Perhaps minutes. Time was relative.


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    In her Surging, she never once opened her eyes.


    I mirrored her. Not the dance, but her closed eyes. My senses became sharper. I followed the tuneless rhythm with a silent humming. I could hear the softness of the night, its gentle sways. And for a strange moment, I had the urge to howl to the moon, to howl under the stars. I shook the urge away. It was the heart of the White Wolf influencing me.


    There¡¯s something to be found in the silence of the night, under the moon and the stars. A something that is different for everyone, a something that could change each step you take. It could come alone, in pairs, or even more.


    What I found in the silence of the night was, as always, a silent affinity. It was something that was only found when I was with Dance of First. I realized; she had grown on me. It was not a startling revelation though. It didn¡¯t descend upon me like a bolt of thunder from nowhere. It slowly crept up on you.


    My heart quickened for a beat. Something in me told me to flee.


    I stood up and made to leave, a retreat which I half-heartedly attempted. It failed. And I was left standing upon the rock with my back turned to her.


    ¡°Leaving so soon, Brother Wolf?¡± her voice called out. On her face, there was always that hint of smile when she met me, and I her. Her eyes sparkled with a hidden amusement. ¡°You should at least escort your younger Sister home in this darkest of nights¡­or visit her sooner than a week late.¡±


    I made a slow turn, standing calmly on that rock. Calmly, but somewhat still comical. Stupid comical. A slow exaggerated turn of my head upward. ¡°It¡¯s hardly nighttime, and I had been busy lying in bed from the agonies of the Eraiteis.¡±


    Only a ¡°hmm¡± was let out. She made a slow twirl, her arms still tracing that unknown rhythm. She was Surging to something only she could sense¡ªI could still feel the slight nudging against my mind.


    I hopped lightly off the rock. ¡°You have grown¡­taller, Sister Dance of First.¡±


    ¡°Alas, time does that to a youth, or would you have preferred I grow shorter?¡±


    ¡°Hardly, at least I will not be three heads taller than you then.¡± I paused. ¡°Horns included, of course.¡± Then I smiled, a curl of the lips which she always pouted at.


    She danced a full revolution, and the flowers around her swayed in tune. A small trill of a laughter. ¡°At least you can spar words with me, Brother. All the Magus disciples I am with have their heads loose and their hands shoved into their brains.¡± Her lips curled, returning my own. ¡°Well, I suppose I should go easy, considering the fact that more of them are¡­males.¡±


    There was a long pause before she said the last word. I knew the true reason behind that pause. It was not just a jab of words aimed at me.


    My time in the Magus library, as a Magus disciple after my Surge had been broken, and upon growing up to be a little more perceptive, I knew that there was a tension between the Magus disciples and in the deeper currents of our tribe.


    You see, there were more Wraithborn Magus than Demona Magus. Far more. Our Demona tribe was not highly receptive to being born with Surges. And as always, the minority and majority. A troublesome situation when you were part of the minority like Dance of First in the group of Magus disciples; there were only a few friends you could rely on then.


    I feigned an exaggerated thinking posture, resting my hand against my chin. ¡°I think reading too many books may have had more of an impact on your mind than I thought. Surely you counted wrong?¡±


    ¡°You say that, but I had already started reading books when you began your first loving touch with your blade-spear.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I would not say a loving touch. Perhaps more of a friendly touch?¡± I asked. ¡°I was just starting out, after all.¡±


    She tilted her head slightly. The dull tugging at the back of my mind stopped. She had stopped Surging. ¡°You say that as if your blade-spear was merely a friend in the beginning, then a wife in the end.¡±


    I shook my head dolefully. ¡°My Brothers have been spreading too many tales to you of my relations with my blade-spear.¡±


    She smiled her slight smile. ¡°I am the only friend you have outside of your Brothers. The rest of your friends are your weapons.¡±


    I opened my mouth to retort, but there was no chance given.


    ¡°Grandmother Moon Bird does not count.¡±


    My mouth closed off its own accord then. I could tell that she was a little angry at me. She was poking more words at me than was usual.


    ¡°Well,¡± I started, ¡°that is because you are the only friend I need.¡±


    ¡°Brother Wolf,¡± she said in mock sorrow. ¡°How far you have fallen.¡± She shook her head. ¡°After having undergone your Ritual of Age, you now use flattery to escape?¡±


    ¡°No, no¡­just facts.¡±


    ¡°More and more flattery. I am disappointed,¡± she said, moving closer toward me as if about to deliver an execution. She moved closer until we stood only about two hands apart. The distance was close enough that I had to look down to meet her eyes. ¡°You look¡­changed, Brother.¡±


    I waited as her voice trailed off.


    She moved a hand toward the blade-ridges on my forearm. It hovered for a few seconds, hesitating, unsure whether to touch the blade-ridges.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I whispered. ¡°You will cut yourself.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie. The blade-ridges which angled out like multiple curved blades were sharp enough to cut through her skin even with a light touch.


    She still moved, not even paying attention, as if transfixed by the glistening red blade-ridges which grew from my forearm. I had extended them to about half a hand¡¯s length, though its full length were up to a little more than the length of a hand.


    I retracted them instantly. There were no sounds made from the retraction. It was as easy as bending a finger. Smooth and silent. There was only a faint trace of a white scar line left on the forearm. But even that would be easily looked over even at a closer glance.


    Her hand rested on my forearm, a soft touch, cool to the sensation. Her hands weren¡¯t rough as mine, calloused from years of wielding weapons. ¡°I feel as if you are going further and further away from me.¡±


    I arched my brows at her, mock-like. ¡°Where would I run away? You would leave every stone upturned and shattered in your wake.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t one of my best retorts.


    For some reason, this night, I was not up to sparring words with her. I felt muddle-headed, as if I had lost too much blood. Like a Bristle that had eaten too much Skyweed.


    ¡°I suppose¡­¡± she said half-heartedly, a trace of sadness also in her voice.


    It compelled me to say something. Anything for the one who had grown up along beside me, who had offered her companionship, who had befriended me, befriended me long before I had bonded with my Brothers.


    ¡°No need to worry. I plan to stay here for a long, long time. And perhaps even become the lead Hunter,¡± I mused. ¡°I would not leave my Brothers and you for anything.¡±


    A silent, implied promise.


    It was a lie.


    But back then, I had been so sure of it.


    She removed her hand from my forearm and gone was that cool touch. ¡°I will be with you too then.¡±


    For a long time then, I sat in silence watching her practice her Surging, at the swaying flowers, at the tuneless rhythm she danced to, a rhythm I could not hear. I thought of how she had befriended me in my time alone, where my ignorance had made me into an outcast.


    A Dance of First, indeed. I admired at the name. It truly had some meaning to me. Just like how Teacher Embracing Flower had to me.


    They were stories I would not share though.


    We all have secrets we aren¡¯t willing to share; a little piece of darkness that has long been buried.


    ========


    A week passed by quickly and after my Eraiteis, my upper body was no longer plain to the eyes. They were full of Runic Enhancements. My legs, of course, were also no exceptions.


    The runes on my blade-ridges acted as the base which converted the Light Essences and Nature Essences, empowering the upper body and the lower body. Each time I was under the sunlight, and where nature was, the base runes on my blade-ridges would gather the Light Essences and the Nature Essences, storing them in my body.


    I could not, of course, see these Essences. The same goes for my Brothers who did not have any Surges of their own. We could, however, feel these Essences as a powerful strength rested inside the Runic Enhancements marked skin-deep onto our bodies and legs.


    And like everything else, there were limits to the storage capacity of these Runic Enhancements and our bodies. Still, it was another facet of the power granted to the true Hunters.


    With these newfound abilities, my Brothers and I put them into good use.


    We were split into two groups of four Hunters. One group consisted of Eagle Above Skies, Little Bird, Big Bird, and Big Bear. And the second group consisted of Leaping Fox, Hidden Shade, Brother Ronat, and lastly, me.


    Upon the voting that occurred amongst ourselves, I was elected the leader of our little group whereas Eagle Above Skies was elected leader of his little group.


    Truthfully, I wasn¡¯t really surprised by the election.


    Leaping Fox only shrugged, saying it was a pain, while Brother Hidden Shade and Brother Ronat did that silent shrug of theirs¡­without saying anything. Thus, I was elected in such a fashion.


    Finally settled in, we would be slowly given tasks which progressed in difficulty. From hunting the strongest king of the northern forests, the Multis Gargantuan, to gradually hunting even more difficult beasts, and to hunt for rare materials requested by the tribe.


    We had settled in as the Eleventh and Twelfth Groups in the Hunters section. With Hunter included, there were now a total of 49 Hunters in the Piercing Moon Tribe, a paltry number compared to the more than three thousand Demona and Wraithborn that were in our village.


    Thus, we set out for our first task. Not even a task, but more something akin to that of a small initiation.


    To display our strength against the Multis Gargantuan, worth 150 points, the strongest creature in the northern forests.


    We were full of confidence


    =====


    ¡°Speed Runic Enhancement, Brothers,¡± I said. ¡°No need for any reinforced strength, eh? Our natural strength should easily suffice.¡±


    ¡°Heh, Brother Wolf,¡± Leaping Fox said from beside me. ¡°I don¡¯t even need the Speed Runic Enhancement to beat you. I can kill the creature alone myself.¡±


    Behind us, Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade merely stayed silent.


    We looked at our first target that would become the sacrifice to our newly initiated four Hunters group.


    The Multis Gargantuan, worth 150 points.


    A huge creature that was more than sixty feet tall. It wielded two half-broken tree as its weapon in two of its four hands.


    ¡°I call the first of its arm,¡± I declared, holding my true blade-spear to in one easy grip. It was a massive weapon that was eight feet long made of the finest materials, only inferior to that of the Cruel Moon Piercer wielded by Hunter.


    ¡°Not if I get there first,¡± Leaping Fox smugly replied.


    ==================


    AN:  As usual, hoped you enjoyed the chapter!


    If you see any mistakes or inconsistencies, do tell. I will move to rectify them.

 Chapter 16: A New Year

    Chapter 16: A New Year


    My Brothers are all peculiar individuals with their bronze tanned skins. Each and every one of them have their quirks.


    Brother Ronat, silent and loyal with his big grey eyes that looked both haunted and meek. He is like the shadow behind you, always steadily following, always with you even when there are no shadows.


    Leaping Fox, playful and articulate¡­when he wanted to be. Brows that could rise like the sun at its peak, wide-set dark eyes that tilted upward, and that quick turn of his grin. We always figured his mouth would be the doom of him.


    Little Bird, carefree and like the shit stuck to your boots. Annoying at first, but you get used to it. So much that you learn to love the excretion. He had a face made for mocking. Just the right set of lips made for smirking, hooded eyes that looked sleepy, and the most angular ears.


    Big Bird, talented with the blade-spear and the opposite of his younger twin though they both had the same features. The only differences were the slight difference in height and the eyes. It was how you could tell them apart; Big Bird had eyes that could win any staring contest. He always liked to break the awkward silence to humor us.


    Hidden Shade, pragmatic and knowledgeable. He had wise eyes and downturned lips. It brought to mind of a frowning teacher. He was our go-to guy for forest lore and for herbs like skyweed. He always kept a few with him in his many pouches. For emergency purposes, he said.


    Big Bear, helpful and well, big everything. He had kind, red eyes. It didn¡¯t make sense, but somehow those blood colored eyes of his were kind looking. In battle, they were not, however. They were the stuff of nightmares, though his broad shoulders and chest that could make a bear look tiny were already scary enough. Not to even mention his blade-ridges.


    Eagle Above Skies, vigilant and determined. He had these slightly downturned eyes that were always flitting left to right, right to left, and sharp lips that curled upward when he sensed something amiss. Our wise older Brother.


    And me, perceptive and observant. But not perceptive enough to describe oneself. How does one go about doing that anyway? I suppose I was a splatter of all of my Brothers. I had a little of each traits. But then again, don¡¯t we all?


    -Wolf Under Stars


    ¡°All set, Brothers?¡± I didn¡¯t look back at them as I asked my question. It was not even needed. I knew they were all ready.


    My vision was entirely focused upon the Multis Gargantuan. It was an intimidating creature that stood upright on its two legs. Its upper body was almost twice as long and twice as large as its lower body. A total disproportion that looked horrific to the eyes. Its back was slightly bent over, a curvature of the spine. These features were due to the fact that the Gargantuan could run on all six of its limb.


    And its skin was of an ashy hue that looked like the bark of an old tree. There were ridges and creases everywhere, especially on its back. On its chest were growths of leafy vines that rippled with movement every few seconds or so. Its face was squarish with two great circular holes for its nostrils and the edges of its white eyes seemed as if laced with threads of green¡ªthey were the veins of his eyes. Its mouth, always half-opened, was a jagged line that cut across the entirety of the lower half of its face, barely giving space for the protrusion of a chin.


    The Gargantuan didn¡¯t have any hair, only more of those bark-like creases and ridges that crisscrossed into each other. I suppose if one was optimistic enough, that could have counted as hair. I doubted it though.


    All in all, it was a formidable creature that stood over sixty feet tall, taller than seventy if it could actually stand fully upright. But that was an impossibility made by the nature of its spine.


    We observed the creature for a few seconds more, closely following from behind at a set distance, perhaps about twenty trees spaced widely away. We were probably around two hundred feet away from the creature. But even if we were closer, there was no need to put much effort into hiding our presences, for the creature was almost fully deaf.


    The Gargantuan stopped, dropping both of the half-broken tree weapons in his two hands. They fell down with a deafening crash that could even be heard from where we were at.


    Then it grinned and started doing a strange dancing of some sorts around a tree. It was a tree that was more than three hundred feet tall and had great big vines and moss growing at the upper half of its trunk. Its size stood out from the rest of the trees.


    ¡°That is disgusting.¡± Leaping Fox spat as if trying to get the disgust out. ¡°I think have lost my appetite for the afternoon.¡±


    Hidden Shade walked up a few feet as if trying to get a closer look at the creature, though that few feet did nothing to close the distance between the creature and our group. ¡°Ah, that is intriguing.¡±


    ¡°What is it doing?¡± I asked, still looking at that strange dancing of the creature. It had all four of its arms wrapped around the tree now.


    ¡°It is practicing the art of survival and the art of life,¡± Hidden Shade replied.


    The realization finally dawned on me with the implication of his answer.


    Brother Leaping Fox still had not recognized it. ¡°What do you mean,¡± he asked. ¡°Is it trying to uproot the tree?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a mating dance,¡± Hidden Shade said dryly. ¡°Call it practice for future practices.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Leaping Fox¡¯s voice trailed off as the creature started randomly waving its four arms around, before finally taking out something protruding from its lower body. ¡°Now that is just disgusting. You are a freak, Brother Shade. I am almost inclined to believe you know about the mating habits of every creature in existence.¡±


    ¡°Does that include you too, Brother Leaping Fox?¡± I asked, putting a hint of innocence into the question. He didn¡¯t answer.


    We watched the creature undergo its mating dance. Well, the three of us did. Brother Leaping Fox was resting his hands on a nearby tree and ¡°cough-puking¡± exaggeratedly. It was more of a cough than puking, really. He used actions and gestures when cursing wasn¡¯t enough.


    By the time the creature was done, I had almost lost all motivation of attacking the Multis Gargantuan.


    ¡°It¡¯s an interesting creature really. Quite unique in the fact that the creature practices its mating dances on trees, and uses trees as its weapons. It also eats the trees for nourishment along with some larger beasts. The most interesting aspect, however, lies in the fact that it can absorb some Nature Essences.¡± Hidden Shade paused, pondering for a short while. ¡°Its appendage also falls off during mating.¡±


    I almost didn¡¯t hear the stress on the second word his sentence, so dumbstruck I was at the Multis Gargantuan. Unlike Brother Hidden Shade, I only knew of the fighting habits of the creatures and how to defend and attack them. I didn¡¯t really bothered with learning the other unnecessary facets.


    ¡°Do you mean that green rod-shaped object,¡± I asked trying to narrow my eyes for a closer look. The appendage Brother Hidden Shade spoke off had fallen beside the base of the tree.


    Hidden Shade nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a rare material full of Nature Essences used for many processes by the Magus. The fallen appendage during mating, if inserted into a female Multis Gargantuan, gives birth to a child using the nourishment from the Nature Essences inside the appendage.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright. Enough already,¡± Leaping Fox interrupted. ¡°That is too much information.¡± He made a sickly smile. ¡°No wonder Hunter said to pick up any fallen green rods.¡±


    The start of the silence before a battle began then. Although it would have begun earlier if the Multis Gargantuan had not danced around the tree. I shook my head, grinning to myself. It was just not right to attack someone, even a beast, in a mating heat.


    I took a deep breath, feeling for the intangible, feeling the lines of the runic markings on my legs.


    Activating the Runic Enhancements was similar to moving a ghostly muscle. In the beginning, it would take some time for the activation to occur, but with increasing uses, one could activate the enhancements or parts of them with a mere thought. This was what we had been told by the older Hunters.


    When I activated the Speed Runic Enhancements on my legs and feet, I had to concentrate hard, trying to nudge that specific ghostly muscle. There was a three second delay before the muscle responded. Three seconds may not have been much, but in a battle, even a second was enough to take a life. A second that could spell the distance between a victory or a defeat, a life and a death.


    Upon activation, the lines of power ran through the runic markings on my legs. They used the Light Essences and Sun Essences stored in the blade-ridges and my body. And if my legs had been bare, the runes of lines would have shown a soft golden flaring, not strong enough to be seen through the clothing but strong enough to give off a dim light in the night.


    I could feel a tingling sensation. One that would not have been noticeable had I not been paying attention. The sensation was akin to that of a gentle wind caressing your skin, like blood rushing through your body except with a weaker feeling.


    We ran then. In our predetermined formation, Leaping Fox and I were in the vanguard. We were sprinting equally alongside each other, matching each other paces. Well, sort of matching each other paces, if trying to outrun one another could be called that.


    Barely a few seconds in, and we had already crossed the distance, passing by multiple trees. A distance of two hundred feet traveled in less than five seconds, and that was only due to the obstacles that were inherent in a forest.


    The gap lessened. Ten feet left. The Gargantuan loomed up ahead like a small mountain. More than nine times my size and half as wide as that number of times.


    My muscles became taut and the world seemingly slowed down. My blood, as if responding to the slow ticking of time, became restless, my heart pounding against my chest like hammer blows. Then I howled.


    There was no stopping the howl. It came from the depths of my stomach, like a wolf asserting its dominance. My heart tightened as if a fist held it in a strong grip. My right foot swung forward powerfully, and I could feel my boot sink into the ground, no doubt leaving a sizeable imprint. My muscles tensed even more, especially my right leg. Like a massive spring in its coiling, waiting for a release, an accidental snap, anything.


    The release came fast, yet slow as if time itself were savoring every slow movement I made. I let out a second howl. It was met with a shout from Leaping Fox. He had split up, choosing to flank the other side of the beast.


    In my jump, I could sense the scattering of dirt and a few leaves behind me. Five feet. Ten feet. Fifteen feet. Twenty feet. I shot forward, the wind slapping against my face. I landed hard against the creature¡¯s lower body. My feet thudded against its bark-armored right thigh and my spear stabbed deeply into it. A jolt went up my arm, but I remained steady, not flinching once.


    The weapon went in more than halfway, its wooden shaft made from the Ever Tree swallowed more than halfway inside. Against the skin of the beast, it made a cracking noise like an axe cutting through wood. I grunted, pulling my spear off. Blood, of a light green hue, pooled around the puncture I had made. Though it was more of a needlelike wound compared to the massive body of the Gargantuan.


    That had been a bad mistake. I should have immediately landed and proceeded for a second jump. If my spear had become stuck inside the creature¡¯s thigh, I would have been left weaponless. I didn¡¯t fancy fighting the beast with my hands.


    Using its bent right thigh as a foothold, I kicked away from it, flying more than five feet. Then my blade-spear stabbed forth once more. I held onto the spear, using it to swing toward the creature. I landed at its bent waist and moved closer upward to gain a more stable foothold. I was finally on top of its lower back.


    Before even a trickle of exhilaration could enter my mind, a roar resounded like a hundred trees crashing down at the same time. Below me, I could feel the creature turning around, the movement causing a rippling of its massive muscles near the waist.


    I sprinted across the curvature of its bent upper body before arriving at its lower right arm, all whilst the creature was trying to shake us off. But it had noticed too slowly and too late.


    Not having enough stable footing while running across its back, I could only enter into Small Whirlwind. My shoulders flexed and my waist turned halfway as I gained momentum into the swing of my blade-spear. Then I let it fall, and three feet of Xeonite blade dug deeply into the joint of its lower right arm. The blade met heavy resistance as it cut through the bark-like skin of the creature. I hacked at it once more and pieces of bark-like skin scattered outward. Green on black as its blood dyed my blade. Then another, this time my blade meeting heavier resistance. I was into its bones now.


    Another roar and I was thrown off by a quick elbow of its arm as the Gargantuan shook wildly around. I felt myself flying and the wind whistling at me as my vision spun around, two trees passing by and a clear patch of sky was seen. I shook free of the confusion, stabilizing myself, and I turned around and saw that I was careening toward the trunk of a tree.


    My blade-spear stabbed out quickly once more and using that as a stopper, my feet landed against the trunk. Gratitude welled up in me toward the Ritual Master like the thanks an empty desert would give to a flood. The tree climbing with the blade-spear was already showing its usefulness.


    I chuckled softly to myself. No wonder the Ritual Master had pounded the basics of footwork and climbing to us. We would be fighting huge creatures in our time as Hunters and would be spending most of our time getting flung around into the air.


    My head turned toward the roaring Gargantuan. Two of its lower arms hung limp, and green blood flowed out from the joints. Down below, Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade had started dancing around the legs of the creature, trying to slice into its tendons. A meaty fist slammed down onto the forest floor, ripping out grasses by the dozens and scattering dirt and fallen leaves as it left a sizable depression.


    One wrong move and you would be flattened under those raining fists from the Gargantuan. Luckily, its two lower arms were barely working. The threat had been lessened by almost half. We only had to be wary of its two arms.


    I looked for where Leaping Fox had been thrown off to, spotting him in the opposite direction more than twenty feet away. He had landed into a patch of blue-silver grass and looked to be muttering to himself, clearing some strands of the grass from his head with one free hand.


    Pulling my blade-spear free from the trunk, I climbed down the tree. When around only thirty feet remained between me and the ground, I jumped down. I landed hard on my two bent legs, and the impact still went straight up to my knees.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I winced from the shock and numbing pain. I wouldn¡¯t be doing that anytime soon again. I had been lucky to have not dislocated my knees or twisted my ankles. The only way I would be doing that again would be if I activated the Fortification Runic Enhancement along with Strengthening Runic Enhancement on my legs.


    I realized that I would needed to test the limits of my body, and this battle would be the first step toward it.


    In a few seconds, I rejoined the fight with my three Brothers¡ªLeaping Fox had rejoined the battle first, him being thrown off closer toward the creature.


    I charged in, quickly falling into a Lower Assailing Stance. Then I moved into Cutting the Mountains before switching to Clearing the Clouds. Fitting moves since I was fighting against a small mountain of a creature whose head could have reached the clouds themselves.


    The two moves utilized an uppercut motion, gathering momentum as the blade-spear circled from down below into an upward motion. I aimed Cutting the Mountains at the base of one of its ankle.


    The blade bit deeply and my arms met a small impact, but I didn¡¯t pause even half a second before moving on. Clearing the Clouds made a wide upward arc that bit even deeper. The two moves left deep bloody green marks of lines onto the ankle of the creature.


    I moved backward again, avoiding the fist that came from above like a lightning strike. Leaping Fox moved in to fill the space I had left, jumping around the impact the fist had left. The Gargantuan roared again and I could hear the undercurrents of frustration in its grating voice that seemed to echo around.


    We switched on and off then as we worked on the ankle. To the other side, Brother Hidden Shade and Brother Ronat were doing the same, each taking a turn to swing at the leg while avoiding any raining fists.


    A minute passed by and we had cleared off most of its outer bark-like skin, leaving only the softer inner skin. This, we cut through with ease.


    ¡°Body slam!¡± I yelled as soon as I saw the beast tensing its two legs. Before even the words were out my mouth, I was already sprinting away and had started to activate the Speed Runic Enhancements on my legs. Around me, I saw my three Brothers sprinting away into different directions.


    By the time I had cleared more than sixty feet, my Runic Speed Enhancements activated on my legs and I dove for a tree. I felt the ground come spiraling upward and my body moved into a roll as the impact of the ground struck. As I rolled, I kept my blade-spear always pointed away from my face and the length of the weapon flat. It rolled along with me smoothly.


    A word of advice. When you fall down with a weapon, always keep the end of it away from your face¡ªthe sharp end of course. And the length of it parallel to your legs and closely perpendicular to the hips, though that is just one variation. There is a whole art to rolling with a weapon.  It lessens the risk of dying from a self-inflicted stab wound. A stab-wound to the face is always a no-no. It¡¯s a feeling akin to that of a wedding invitation sent to you from your long-time crush. Trust me, I speak from experience.


    As the creature body-slammed onto my direction, I could feel the forest floor trembling from the impact. In the midst of that, my body was still rolling from the dive. As soon as I stopped rolling, I quickly flowed into an upright position using the momentum and quickly observed my situation.


    It had been a narrow dodge. I could see the entire length of the Gargantuan¡¯s two massive arms lying just short of five feet away. Its pair of white eyes bordered by green veins stared out at me in purposeful anger. Its stubby neck, too inflexible to turn upward, showed only its two eyes as the Gargantuan peered at me. In its failed body-slam, it was eating the dirt and leaves of the forest.


    I tasted my own dirt and spat it out. A little dirt in my mouth was worth it to survive the creature¡¯s attack.


    In its fallen position, the creature was vulnerable now, and I could see my four Brothers on the other ends of the Gargantuan. With the Runic Speed Enhancement still flaring on my legs, I sprinted toward its ugly face. A big knuckled, ashen colored fist came swiping at me, but I easily dodged it. It was slow from pain and from attempting to stand upright once more.


    A rough estimation entered my thoughts and I jumped upward toward its face. From more than a fifteen feet height, I fell spiraling down toward the top of its head. With my blade-spear in the forefront and two hands gripped tightly on the middle of the shaft, I stabbed deeply into the back of the creature¡¯s raised head as it attempted to stand upright.


    A painful roar entered my ears and shook my whole body from the force of the ensuing sound. I tried pulling at my blade-spear. I grunted and pulled. I pulled hard, but it didn¡¯t budge. Almost the entire eight feet of my blade-spear¡¯s length was inside the creature¡¯s skull. Only the tip of the black handle of my spear peered out.


    I marveled at the vitality of the beast. Its brain had eaten almost a whole eight feet long blade-spear and it was still alive, yet looking no worse for the wear. I had lost my blade-spear in that exchange also. Not a fair trade at all.


    And just in time, I jumped off the creature¡¯s head as a giant hand came careening downward, trying to make a grab at me. I retreated, leaving my blade-spear still stuck inside the skull of the creature.


    Up ahead, I saw Brother Hidden Shade, Leaping Fox, and Brother Ronat racing each other across the fallen back of the Gargantuan. They came sprinting fast, as if trying to outrun each other, and reached the head of the Gargantuan in a matter of seconds.


    Leaping Fox arrived first and from the stubby top of the creature¡¯s neck, he leapt toward the closest tree, before kicking off the trunk of it into a half somersault. His blade-spear then stabbed into the eye of the Gargantuan in a spurt of white and green goo. He left his blade-spear then, retreating backward toward me.


    A grin was aimed toward me as he landed nearby.


    Before the beast could even roar out from the pain of its stabbed eye, Brother Ronat had already stabbed at its other remaining eye, half-somersaulting off the tree like Leaping Fox. He left his blade-spear there also as the beast moved a hand to grab at his face.


    At the same time, Hidden Shade stomped the black handle of my blade-spear which was stuck inside the skull of the beast. The handle disappeared down, and the entire length of my blade-spear entered inside its skull. Without any hesitation, Hidden Shade jumped off before the creature could swipe at him.


    The creature bellowed out in pain then, blinded as it attempted to remove the blade-spears stuck in each of its eyes. By that time, the Multis Gargantuan had stood back up again, it ran around in circles, swiping at the foes it could not see. The bodies of trees became half-broken in its rampage, almost as easy as breaking the stalk of a flower.


    ¡°Did you really have to do that, Brother Hidden Shade?¡± I asked. ¡°That was my blade-spear you stuck inside its brain. Now it¡¯s probably swimming in its brain goo.¡±


    He shrugged at me. ¡°Fastest method to kill the creature. It will die eventually from the fatal wounds.¡±


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you have used your own blade-spear?¡±


    ¡°It would not have went as deep,¡± he simply replied.


    Leaping Fox let out a small laughter. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t have done that, Brother Hidden Shade. Doing that to his weapon would be like stealing his future mistress.¡± He winked at me, nudging an arm toward me.


    ¡°Mistress? What do you even mean by that?¡±


    Leaping Fox sighed at me. ¡°Your weapon is already your first wife, obviously. So any extra girlie you marry will be your mistress.¡± He shook his head, as if disappointed in me.


    So we followed the rampaging Gargantuan then, but only after I had rolled my eyes at Brother Leaping Fox in annoyance. It took a minute or two for the rampaging beast to settle down. Its bellows of anger were futile. Just like its attempts to free the blade-spear out from both of its eyes. His hands and thick stubby armored fingers were too unwieldy to grab at them. It only drove the spears deeper inside its eyes.


    The creature gave up soon after, and could only destroy its surroundings in anger. And as the seconds passed by, its movements became duller and duller, before finally it leaned down against a tree, moaning weakly out in his agony.


    In our wait for its death, there was only silence between the four of us. We watched as its last set of heavy breaths came harder and harder. There was something in watching the king of the northern forests slowly waste away, the bony hands of death reaching closer and closer every passing second. Each breath the creature took, the rise and fall of its vine-covered chest, seemed as if it was made for eternity.


    There was a fascination in that rhythmic movement. The death that comes calling for the living. And when the movement finally stops, you know that death has finally laid its claims.


    ¡°In death, everything is equal,¡± Brother Ronat whispered softly, his voice trailing off.


    The words surprised me. In all the time I had known him, he had never hinted toward such feelings toward killing the creatures. There was only that usual haunted look in his eyes, and that grim silence of his.


    But that wasn¡¯t all there was to it. The words were a phrase from the death aspect of the All Father, a figure we worshiped in our Demona and Wraithborn tribe. And the figure¡¯s counterpart, the All Mother.


    At the beginning of each year, we would begin the All Festival in our tribe. And all the adults of the tribe would pour a small cup of blood onto the ground. A return to death, a return to the earth, to the embrace of the All Father and All Mother.


    ¡°But in life, everything is unequal,¡± I said, continuing the phrase. ¡°The All Festival¡­It is almost upon us, isn¡¯t it. Only two days till the new year begins.¡± It would be our first time attending it since we had just been initiated as full-grown Hunters, as full-grown Demona.


    With those thoughts in our minds, we moved toward the still body of the Multis Gargantuan, the first and last king of the northern forests. The last king in the fact that we had overcome any obstacles the northern forests could ever throw at us. And the first king in regards to the creature being the strongest in these familiar, yet unfamiliar forests. The northern forests were too large to ever be called familiar, even though we had grown up in this place.


    Truly an informal rite of initiation into adulthood. A death that signified our growth. The Multis Gargantuan.


    My musing was soon interrupted by Brother Leaping Fox.


    ¡°Well,¡± he began. ¡°I am not going anywhere near that green rod. Leader Wolf, you should pick that up. The loot, after all, should be handled by the group leader.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Leave it to Brother Leaping Fox to break me out of my ponderous moods. He excelled in that.


    ==========


    When we came out of the northern forests, the sun had set and night had fallen, taking over the sun¡¯s domain. We greeted the watch-guards at the northern gates and I met the familiar pale blue face of Miam with his short and stocky body. Tonight was his turn at the northern gates.


    The watch-guards at the northern gates weren¡¯t there for only decorations, or for the village walls to have company. They were there for the stray beasts that sometime came wondering out of the northern forests. Long before I was born, around twelve years ago, a Drakon had come wondering into the village on a full night. And two Demona and Wraithborns had died that night before the beast had been subjugated.


    It was a mistake that would never be repeated again. After that incident, guards would always be posted even at night.


    We headed toward the Hunters section of the village, a place in the village that was the least furnished. Each and every one of the Hunters lived a simple life with the minimum furnishings. Our homes were also simple, just wooden longhouses with thatched roofs made from Hibis plant. And in the middle of the section were four wells used to catch rain.


    The rain wasn¡¯t really that welcomed though. We had a fresh lake just outside of the eastern gates, a little past to the south. The clearings around the lake was a popular place used for the Magus who had an affinity with Water Essences.


    After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the four wells of the Hunters section, and saw Hunter¡¯s home off a short distance. As the lead Hunter, he lived closer to the center, though he now had two homes, one with Magus Embracing Flower whose child had been born. A daughter who was already over a year old.


    I visited them sometimes. But in the deepest crevices of my mind, I still held a bitterness that I could not explain to myself. A memory that I kept locked, not willing to even speak of it to myself even in the darkest of nights, even in the loneliest of nights.


    Elder Magus Zelas, her father, was also no exception. To him, I held an even darker memory that was hidden in a deeper than the deepest crevices of my mind. I visited him every few months or so, as if thinking that with each visit, my bitterness would lessen.


    Each visit, he made an even more and more piteous figure. Broken like a bird which had lost her wings. The decaying flame had sunk in deeper and deeper. The darkness, the smell of decay, had now covered almost half of its body.


    On my second visit, a few months after the night of the imparted secrets, I had found the courage to ask him. It was a senseless question. Edgeless, yet sharp.


    ¡°Why live on with such pain?¡± I had asked him. ¡°Why not die?¡±


    ¡°Death may have its grips on me, but so does life,¡± he said bitterly. ¡°Simply put, I am a coward who clings onto life¡¯s fleeting hands.¡±


    I paused for a moment, thinking about it, of the death I had imparted so oftentimes on the beasts of the northern forests, of their eyes. ¡°To survive is courage.¡±


    I don¡¯t know if my words were a comfort or why I said them, for he fell into a silence then, and I quietly left his house. How far he had fallen. He no longer held the position of Elder Magus. He no longer even left his home, just brooding in the dark embrace of the dark corners of his home, leaving traces of his former self in every corner.


    After arriving at Hunter¡¯s home, we reported of our success, handing over the ¡°green rod,¡± and he nodded. Success. Simple as that. His face that night, however, seemed darker than usual, as if worried by something. It was easy to tell, for he didn¡¯t engage us in a small conversation or ask about our kill.


    Our group split up then, with each of my three Brothers wandering off to do their own little tasks. I went back to our home, practicing with my blade-spear before finally going to bed.


    Two days passed by quickly and the All Festival arrived with hints of foreboding. The skies were grey with troubled clouds, as if it would rain any unexpected moment.


    A messenger from the Sun Cherishers tribe had arrived, requesting to meet with Hunter.

 Chapter 17: Sun Cherishers

    Chapter 17: Sun Cherishers


    Hunger. For death. For life. For love. For forgiveness. Always that hunger.


    Fleeing anywhere, somewhere, nowhere.


    Futile.


    -The Sin-Bearer


    The messenger came clad in an elegant sleeveless tunic, black entirely with green around the cut edges. On the sides of his waist hung two brown sheaths, about as long as an arm¡¯s length, around his belt. There were also multiple small pouches filled with necessities, no doubt, around the belt. His figure made him out to be a Demona Hunter. Tall with long black violet-tinged hair. His skin was of light copper.


    We crowded around the messenger as a watch-guard escorted him to where Hunter was. Many of the younger children and adults followed, watching the spectacle about to unfold. Not many travelers or other tribe members came to visit our village. So a rare sight was a rare sight. Curiosity naturally followed.


    In the center of the village, the messenger and Hunter stood facing each other. The former spoke first.


    His hands moved quickly. A gesture of apology and a greeting. ¡°I apologize for interrupting the All Festival.¡± His voice was curt, but tinged with just the right amount of civility. Coldly neutral, I would say.


    ¡°No matter, I was wondering when you would arrive,¡± Hunter said, his voice similar in tone. ¡°As expected, the passage of time is quick as always.¡±


    The messenger nodded shortly. ¡°Indeed, and you still look as young as ever, Hunter.¡±


    I was surprised. Not by the fact that he had implied that Hunter was old, but by the fact that the two knew each other. Yet why the coldly neutral tone with each other?


    ¡°Still, it has come later than I expected,¡± Hunter said, ignoring the statement as if it had been never spoken. There was no change in his expression.


    The messenger continued, unfazed by it. ¡°The Watchers have reported movements, and we have sent a messenger to the Night Sky tribe also. We expect them all to arrive by three weeks¡¯ time.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for bringing the message. Expect us to arrive in a week¡¯s time,¡± said Hunter.


    ¡°Very well,¡± the messenger replied, his voice cheerful now. An unexpected change. ¡°It has been nice meeting you again, Hunter. I look forward to your arrival.¡± He left then, escorted by a watch-guard, but not before turning around. ¡°Make sure to bring no more than four!¡±


    Hunter sighed to himself, watching the messenger walk away slowly, humming a tune. ¡°He has always been an annoying one. Likes them cold staring contests. I always oblige him too, though I do not know why.¡± Hunter walked away, not even waiting for a reply. It was as if the explanation had been for his own benefit, and not ours.


    I gave a questioning look toward Leaping Fox, who had come along to satisfy his curiosity also. He returned it with a slight shrug of his shoulders. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I haven¡¯t got a clue either.¡±


    Just like that, the All Festival continued, as if the interruption had never occurred.


    The festival was a wasteful event, in my opinion. Each of the adult was given a small tiny cup that could be held between two fingers easily. Half of the blood inside would be drunk and the other half poured onto the ground.


    For the whole of the afternoon and night, there was the pervading smell of fresh blood throughout the village. Not a bad smell, to be honest. Appetizing. It only made me all the more starved.


    When the year ended, and the first light of the new year began, we were called upon to stand in the middle of the Hunters section. There were only four of us though. Brother Ronat, Leaping Fox, Hidden Shade, and me.


    Hunter stood in front of us. ¡°Every fourth of a century, around twenty-five years time,¡± he began. ¡°We send the four youngest Hunters to the Sun Cherishers tribe, one of our brethren Demona tribe. The Night Sky, another brethren tribe, also sends their four youngest Hunters.¡± He paused, letting the words sink in. And another pause to give us time to ask questions.


    ¡°What is it for?¡± Leaping Fox asked.


    ¡°A competition and a hunt,¡± he answered.


    ¡°Why only send four then?¡± I asked.


    Hunter pondered for a moment, then spoke. ¡°Looks like the Ritual Master didn¡¯t tell you this. That old Demona, always giving me more trouble.¡± He glanced at each of us. ¡°You see, the youngest four Hunters born within every fourth of a century are always the strongest. It is a strange occurrence, I know, but it is related to the potency of the blood our Demona tribes.¡±


    Hunter sniffed at the air, a strange reaction. But I blamed it on the pervading smell of the blood from the previous afternoon. It was still lingering around like the smell of a damp forest after a day of raining.


    ¡°I will give a comparison. Your older four Brothers, for example, they can only endure the Blodvraz state for around five seconds before the backlash gains in strength.¡±


    The implication of that statement dawned on me. Did it mean that the potency of the blood was directly related to how long one could last in the Blodvraz state? That would make me a strange exception then. I was half Wraithborne.


    As if seeing through my thoughts, Hunter confirmed it. ¡°The youngest Hunters born in the span of every twenty five years usually last up to five to eight seconds in starblood state,¡± he said.


    My mind whirled at that. I thought back upon the Ritual Master¡¯s remark on the eight of us Brothers being born so closely to one another in such a short period of time. No more than two years. A rare occurrence, he had said.


    Another implication.


    That would also make Hunter at the very least twenty-five years old. But that wouldn¡¯t have made sense. He couldn¡¯t have become the lead Hunter of our tribe that young. He would have to be at least fifty years old then? Perhaps forty.


    Hunter smiled. ¡°Thinking about how old I am, Hunter Wolf Under Stars?¡± he asked with a hint of amusement.


    ¡°Yes?¡± I said hesitantly. It was rude to ask an elder¡¯s age.


    ¡°I am at least fifty years old,¡± he hinted at me.


    Leaping Fox nudged at me with an arm. ¡°Good going,¡± he whispered. ¡°I have always wondered how old Hunter was too.¡±


    He raised his voice to ask, ¡°Are you around the seventy mark?¡±


    Hunter waved a hand in dismissal. ¡°Enough. The four of you will set out for the Sun Cherishers tribe, and I will personally be guiding you. Make sure to gather all your belongings and meet me at the northern gates.¡±


    ========


    After about an hour, we gathered once more outside of the northern gates. With me, I brought my blade-spear, throwing knives, Essence bombs, rejuvenation vials, and many other small necessities.


    We moved out then, Hunter leading us all the way. For the whole of the week, we spent all the daylight traveling, taking only brief rests. With plenty of Light Essences and Nature Essences all around us, we frequently used our Runic Speed Enhancements in short bursts.


    By the second day, it had become a contest as we tried to overtake Hunter. But all of our attempts failed even with the Runic Speed Enhancements. Hunter always kept ahead of us, always in the lead, never faltering. He wasn¡¯t even out of breath after running for the whole of the morning and afternoon.


    After the fourth day, we gave up trying to overtake Hunter. And as usual, he had those glows of dull amusement in his dark eyes. A slight curve of his lips, as if telling us that we still had more growing to do.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The next morning, we exited the northern forests, and when the sun had set high on the fifth day, we were traveling at a breakneck speed across the Bleary Grasslands, heading west. The Sun Cherishers tribe was located at the western tip of the Bleary Grasslands but still in range of the Desolate Forests.


    The scenery as we traveled across the grassland was unceasingly dull, almost never changing. Grey on grey. Grey on the trees. Grey on the plants. The skies themselves seemed to have almost turned grey. There were even grey-skinned creatures known as the Greynats, four-limbed creatures that fed on the grey grass.


    The seventh day was a blessing. We were finally out of the grey, grey place and at the western edges of the Bleary Grasslands.


    ¡°Finally,¡± Leaping Fox muttered. ¡°I thought I was going to become ill with a new sickness. I would even call it Grey Fever.¡±


    An agreeable statement, I silently thought to myself.


    ¡°The Valley of Suns,¡± Hunter said, ¡°home to the Sun Cherishers tribe. And further beyond the Valley of Suns is the Azera Mountains, encircling the valleys.¡±


    It was an easy distinction. If you cross the Bleary Grasslands and into the Valley of Suns, the grey grass changes into colorful flowers and plants with a golden yellow being the most distinct hue. It was almost painful to the eyes, having the scenery change so quickly from dull to bright. It felt like coming out from ten years in the darkness of an underground place, finally seeing sunlight for the first time.


    After another day of traveling, and we finally arrived at the Sun Cherishers tribe which was a village larger than ours. We climbed up a slightly elevated hill, crossing the borders between the Bleary Grasslands, and climbed down the hill to arrive at the Valley of Suns.


    A foreign place. A different feeling, a different mood. Everything felt different.


    The village was a sprawling mass of confusion, interconnected by multiple different sections arranged randomly. Like the overgrown roots of a tree that had spread everywhere without any distinction. There were also tall buildings that stood out from the rest, incomparable to the short buildings in our village.


    Up above and around these buildings, like tall towers, there were golden creatures of the air gliding through, circling their tops. They resembled a larger version of eagles, excepting for the three tails that followed blurrily behind.


    And surrounding this sprawling mass of confusion were watchtowers with dividing walls in between. Then to the sides of these dividing walls, just a small distance away, two great rivers snaked through. They ran parallel to each other and to the sides of the village. Further beyond that were an encirclement of valleys colored yellow by its various plants.


    To top all of that, the sun loomed largely up above as if it had moved closer, and the two snaking rivers glistened from the light, creating their own smaller lights, like small suns. All in all, the Valley of Suns was certainly a suitable name. It was blinding to the eyes.


    We moved closer toward the nearby watchtowers and their dividing walls which snaked around like the rivers.


    ¡°Impressive,¡± Hidden Shade said, looking at the skies full of the creatures of the air. ¡°There are so many Vulcans here.¡±


    As if his words were a cue, four of those Vulcans landed in front of us, diving down from the sky. The closer look at the creatures revealed them to be mostly yellow but with crowns of black feathers surrounding their heads. As their four wings unfolded, an impressive sight met our eyes. The creatures looked magnificent, especially their wingspans which could have enfolded our entire group. The largest of the wingspan looked to be close to thirty feet.


    What was most interesting, however, were the figures riding the four Vulcans. They were all female Demona Hunters, each of them carrying a large bow behind their backs. But only one of them carried a blade-spear.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± she called out from above, the bangs of her short violet-tinged black hair shifting slightly from the wind. ¡°You are the Hunters from the Piercing Moon tribe?¡± Her violet eyes narrowed. ¡°You look weak.¡±


    ¡°Ohoho, Brother Wolf, I think she is directing that toward you,¡± Leaping Fox said with no small amount of amusement.


    ¡°My apologies, Sister Elera sometimes becomes¡­say, ahead of herself,¡± another spoke up, the one to her right.


    ¡°You mean hotheaded right. She can¡¯t calm her tits most days,¡± a female Demona with long red hair spoke up.


    ¡°Oh boy,¡± Leaping Fox whispered. ¡°I am already liking that fiery one. She seems foxy¡­heh, get it?¡± He frowned, then put an arm around Brother Ronat¡¯s shoulders. ¡°That little one, however, looks good for my Brother Ronat here.¡±


    My hands almost itched to stab at Leaping Fox. No doubt, Brother Ronat was also thinking the same. I almost thought I saw his haunted dark eyes twitch at the words.


    Their eyes narrowed upon seeing Brother Leaping Fox whispering. I will give my Brother this at least. He kept his whispers lowered enough so that only we could hear it. And perhaps it was just my imagination, a wink of an invisible second, but I saw Hunter twitch a small smile, gone before even half a second had passed.


    The four female Demona Hunters of the Sun Cherishers tribe jumped down from their Vulcans, landing lithely like cats. I inspected their figures quickly. Fearsome cats. I would not be messing with them anytime soon.


    They wore black leather wraps with white undercloth over their chests. As for their lower bodies, they covered them with similarly colored leather underpants that were hard pressed to even cover an inch of their upper thighs. Around each of their upper thighs, they wore belt wraps and in each wrap there were three small sheaths. Throwing knives most likely. They wouldn¡¯t need six daggers.


    On their forearms, there wore black vambraces made out of Xeonite metal, judging from the sheen of it. And like every Hunter, each of them had full Runic markings over their whole bodies. Their Eraiteis, however, differed from ours. Their Runic Enhancements included some even which I did not recognize. The most basic of them were there, however. Speed. Fortitude. And Strengthening.


    ¡°Welcome to the Sun Cherishers tribe, Brother Hunters,¡± said the one called Elera. She flashed her four small fangs at us in a provoking manner.


    Brother Leaping Fox put an arm around my shoulders, leaving Brother Ronat to his relief, and to my not-relief. ¡°You can take that angry one. The one who spoke first.¡± He winked at me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t tell Dance of First.¡±


    I rolled my eyes at him as I ignored the glares of the four female Hunters.


    Leave it to Brother Leaping Fox to destroy peaceful moods.


    And to think there were four more Hunters from the Night Sky tribe on their way here. It was going to be a mess. I prayed to the All Mother.


    I looked toward Hunter. He made no move to introduce us, only watching from the sides. Most likely he didn''t want to get involve with young Hunters like us.


    I stepped forward. A gesture of greeting. A gesture of respect. "I am Hunter Wolf Under Stars from the Piercing Moon Tribe. Pleased to meet you."


    "I am Hunter Leaping Fox." He made a wide grin.


    "Hunter Ronat." Silent as ever.


    "Hunter Hidden Shade." Also silent, but his eyes more focused upon the Vulcans. They ignored the females.

 Chapter 18: A Friendly Spar

    Chapter 18: A Friendly Sparring


    Fascinating. Fearsome. Formidable. Fiery. And foxy.


    That¡¯s what you look for in a female Demona.


    But I don¡¯t think I am inclined to believe Brother Leaping Fox in that.


    He gives good advice, but certainly not in matters regarding the ¡°fairer¡± opposite sex.


    A weapon makes a far better wife, I would say.


    -Wolf Under Stars


    As was only proper, we introduced ourselves first to the Sun Cherishers, and they in return introduced themselves.


    ¡°Likewise, a pleasure to meet you, Hunters from the Piercing Moon tribe,¡± she said, stepping forward a step. ¡°I am Hunter Solana.¡± Beige colored eyes with a darker shade of brown hair. The second tallest in their group. Perhaps just short of seven feet. She had a calm look to her and her eyes looked calculative, as if already making speculations and judgments.


    ¡°Hunter Elera,¡± she said curtly. The tallest in their group and with the most formidable figure--formidable in every aspect if you perceive what I mean. Short violet-tinged black hair with long bangs that cut just above her eyebrows. Similarly colored eyes. She was the hotheaded one who had called us weak before.


    ¡°Hunter Flara,¡± another female introduced herself, a grin on her face. Long red hair with darkish grey eyes. She was the one whom Leaping Fox had called fiery and foxy, and the one who had made an offhand comment about Hunter Elera.


    ¡°Hunter Mina.¡± Her voice was low, almost a whisper. The last to introduce herself and the shortest out of their group. Greyish looking eyes and somber black hair. She looked to be a silent one. Her eyes were the most striking. They made me feel uneasy, as if they could stare right through me.


    ¡°Sister Mina,¡± said Solana, the one who had introduced herself first. ¡°If you could direct their lead Hunter to ours.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she said, nodding her head a little. She started walking then and Hunter followed along, leaving the four of us alone. They slowly made their way toward the entrance between the two watchtowers.


    ¡°Make sure to behave yourselves,¡± Hunter called out. A short twitch of a smile and a look to Leaping Fox. ¡°Especially you.¡±


    ¡°Now that is just mean. I am always on my best behavior,¡± Leaping Fox said with a hurt look. It was almost believable.


    Almost.


    The three females from the Sun Cherishers tribe carried on as if they had not heard Leaping Fox. ¡°If the four of you would follow us, we will lead you to your living arrangements,¡± Solana said. I was beginning to think she was the leader of their group. ¡°I believe it will take the Hunters from the Night Sky Tribe about two weeks more until they arrive. The Southern Flatlands are quite far from here, after all.¡±


    ¡°We are grateful for your hospitality, Hunters of the Sun Cherishers,¡± I said politely.


    So we followed the three, their backs turned toward us. And as we entered through the walled entrance situated between the two watchtowers, the first sights of the village loomed ahead.


    As they led us through these sights, we were given a small tour by Solana and Flara, while Elera turned around to glare at us each given opportunity. Her eyes measured us, probing for any weaknesses. Certainly a battle-maniac, I thought to myself. Brother Big Bear would have certainly found a kin within her.


    The small tour gave me a measure of familiarity with the village. If familiarity meant knowing one tree out of a whole forest. The tower-like buildings, I learned, were called Roost Towers. They were home to the Vulcans and were used for breeding and training. There were many of these tall buildings spread throughout the corners of the village.


    And around these Roost Towers were intricate channels that lapped around like small snakes. Water for the animals, no doubt. Or perhaps that was just their idea of aesthetics. The homes the Sun Cherishers resided in seemed to be made of clay and stone with a wooden structure. They were flat buildings, most of them only about two floors tall. And each of the buildings were close situated to one another.


    Had there been no guides, we would have certainly been engulfed by the sprawling mass of confusion that was the village with just a single misstep. The interconnected buildings and sections, along with the water channels made for a veritable maze. Their village also did not seem to have any truly divided sections, which was not that particularly strange given that they were all Demona.


    All the while this was happening, Brother Leaping Fox was in a silence. He was quietly watching the sights. Too quiet. I should have known.


    ¡°These certainly are some sights, are they not Brothers,¡± he whispered as we followed along. His eyes strayed toward the backs of the three female Demona Hunters. ¡°Certainly some admirable sights.¡±


    ¡°Admirably dangerous, you mean,¡± I whispered back calmly. I moved onward as if I had not seen or heard anything. ¡°There seems to be a fair majority of females that make up the Hunters,¡± I commented.


    I had seen a few Hunters pass by here and there while we were following our three guides. Most of the passing Hunters seemed to be females. Strange that there would be such a disparity. Males were the norm for the Hunters. Their bodies were usually stronger and would survive the backlash of the potency of the starblood.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± Elera said, an air of declaration around her. ¡°Females are much stronger than the males, especially in our tribe.¡±


    ¡°Interesting,¡± I simply said.


    ¡°Indeed, an interesting notion I would love to disapprove,¡± Leaping Fox said, adding fire to my word. Unneeded fire.


    Elera narrowed her eyes at that. She seemed to do that a lot, I observed to myself.


    Flara, the redhead Demona, let out a small laugh. ¡°I like him. He has balls. Your name is Leaping Fox, was it not?¡±


    My Brother nodded at that.


    ¡°Good, good. I will enjoy ripping them off in the competition to come,¡± she said cheerfully.


    Solana sent a quick glance toward the two females, so quick most wouldn¡¯t have notice it. Elera only let out a small snuffle in return, turning around to the front again. And Flara only let out another small laughter. Suddenly, I had a suspicion that this competition and hunt would go quite well. Very well indeed.


    So we continued onward, following the three of them.


    ¡°Well, Brothers, I guess first impressions aren¡¯t reliable,¡± Leaping Fox said. There was a modest hint of nervousness in his voice. I wouldn¡¯t have liked being in his boots either.


    After a few more minutes of walking through the maze, making seemingly random turns of left to right and right to left, we arrived at a sparse section near a corner of the village. Compared to the other sights in the village, this was by far the most desolate. There were only four buildings and an enormous earthen courtyard in the middle.


    ¡°You will be living over there, Brother Hunters,¡± Solana said. She pointed at a stone and clay building that looked to be two floors tall, each floor possibly able to hold four floors. It was a reasonable guess since there were four windows on each floor. ¡°We Sisters will be living in the opposite building, and the Night Sky tribe will stay at the middle building.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the tour, Sisters,¡± I said.


    ¡°No need for thanks, and do not feel the need to be reserved. You are welcome to ask any questions.¡±


    Hidden Shade glanced up at the sky, then back down. ¡°How will we get our food?¡±


    Sister Flara smiled. It did not reach her eyes. ¡°Naturally, you will come along with us on our hunts. A friendly pre-competition get-to-know.¡±


    ========


    The rooms we were given were sparse. A table, a chair, and a bed. Unadorned and barely furnished. Just the way we liked and lived. Brother Ronat, Leaping Fox, and Hidden Shade came into my room as I put down the pouches that hung around my waist onto the table.


    ¡°Say,¡± Leaping Fox began, ¡°what say you to a spar in the courtyard?¡± He was smiling, a smile which I found distrustful. He had most likely thought of something. An idea that would not bode well. ¡°I could use some exercise.¡±


    I looked toward my Hidden Shade and Brother Ronat. They nodded silently. Three against one? I wondered what Brother Leaping Fox had bribed them with to make them agree to his idea. I grabbed at my blade-spear in the corner. ¡°Very well.¡±


    Down at the courtyard, Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade watched us from the sides. Brother Leaping Fox and I stood at a standstill, a blade-spear in each of our hands. We circled around each other. Six steps away. Easily within range. Our blade-spears themselves could reach up to eight feet easily, and that was discounting the length of our arms.


    A step shifted and a small movement made with my hands. They came as easily as breathing. Higher Assailing Stance. My blade-spear positioned just above neutrality, the edge pointed toward my opponent¡¯s face. I would start off aggressive.


    Brother Leaping Fox, my opponent, went into Lower Guarded Stance. His left foot stepped backward, and the edge of his weapon pointed toward the ground. In the Lower Guarded Stance, the handle end of the blade-spear was just below his neck, and the body of the blade-spear covered his upper body.


    From the corner of my eyes, I spotted four incoming figures. They were the female Hunters form the Sun Cherishers tribe and they stood a small distance away from us, still within hearing distance. I smiled as I realized what Brother Leaping Fox wanted to do. The purpose of the spar was to catch their eyes, and perhaps even goad them into sparring with us.


    Pondering for a second or two, I spoke out an underlying message while forming a small smile.  ¡°Initiation.¡± A small pause before I continued. ¡°I suppose falls to me?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied. ¡°Do your best to beat me. I will follow guard.¡±


    I shook my head, switching into Lower Guarded Stance. ¡°You initiate, since you wanted the spar.¡±


    Leaping Fox frowned. ¡°Don¡¯t be a spoiled fox.¡± He waited for me to switch back into Assailing Stance. I didn¡¯t. His frown deepened and he sighed, switching into Higher Assailing Stance. ¡°Very well, initiation will fall to me.¡±


    The message that had passed between us, put simply, would be that I would lose purposefully to him in the spar. He would then try to goad the female Hunters into sparring with him. I shook my head at Brother Leaping Fox. His idea was to take advantage of the competitive streak they had shown.


    A deep breath. Very well, whatever happens has nothing to do with me, I thought to myself. Still, if the goading was successful, we would also be able to take some measure of their capabilities.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Leaping Fox smoothed his parted hair once with a hand. His breaths became still, quieted by years of training. His wide-set eyes narrowed in concentration, the dark colors flashing a light. An action that always told me that he was ready.


    They say the eyes are a window of opportunities. Others say that the body is the window of opportunities. But that is simply wrong. The eyes, just like the body, can easily lie. A feint. A trick. A ruse. A bait.


    No, the eyes and the body are not windows of opportunities. As Hunter had taught us, they are traps made to deceive. Instead of looking for windows of opportunities, you have to grab at them and make your own in the process.


    Of course, that is only for opponents with experience and intelligence. For the simpler beasts, it is simply not needed. For them, you pay attention to their bodies and to look for any intentions in their eyes. But I was not fighting simple beasts. I was fighting Brother Leaping Fox.


    He started without a warning.


    A blinding flash, a blurring of his hands and arms. The blade-spear fell into a Falling Sweep. Instantly, from the high initial position his blade-spear was previously in, he lowered it into a sweep toward my feet.


    I shifted backward once, a quick two step of my feet, narrowly dodging the blade-spear. My eyes were trained forward, looking at his every movements and his surroundings. But that was just half of it. I also looked for any openings and where I wanted to go.


    His next attack flowed violently, without even a pause. From the Falling Sweep, he switched into consecutive moves of Dancing Leaves. They were a series of skewed, slanted, and cross slashes that varied like a leaf dancing in the wind.


    I parried madly with Half Circles, trying to keep up with the Dancing Leaves. I let my blade-spear guide me, my reflexes born from years of training doing most of the work. Jarring cries of Xeonite blade on Xeonite blade rang out in the courtyard. The blood ran in me, coursing through my veins. My blade-spears and body became blurs, matching to the rhythm of my opponent.


    Faster. The tempo of our blade-spears increased. Instead of running now, the blood thundered in my veins, pounding to the beats of my heart. My vision narrowed, focused onto my opponent and the immediate surroundings. A thrust came flying toward my abdomen, the dull of black Xeonite metal intruding in my vision, just shy of my center.


    It was a feigned opening. I didn¡¯t take the badly timed thrust. I dodged to my left, entering into Phases of the Moon. I pirouetted around, starting into Full Moon, making a wide circular slash that two-folded onto itself. Giving no respite, I shifted into Waning Crescent. Into First Quarter, Waxing Crescent, and all the way into New Moon.


    Faster. The tempo of our blade-spears increased once more. Like a heavy rainstorm in a thunderous night. Flashes of lightning. Advances and retreats, none of us willing to give each other any respite.


    Faster. My heart pounded. My breaths came faster. My hands blistered, as if I was holding onto fire itself. I could feel the droplets of sweat forming on my body.


    Even faster. We were formless now, each only carrying out cuts, parries, and slashes. Like beasts clawing wildly at each other. For a while this continued. A minute which seemed to extend into an eternity. We fought in this eternal moment, each of us formlessly dancing.


    Desperation. A weakness. I stepped right in, taking advantage of the opportunity. Blocked, just barely. I moved on, searching for another weakness, looking for another opportunity. The tempo called to me, and I to it. My blood sang to his own.


    Another desperate block, barely in time. I took advantage of it. In the heat of the battle, my original purpose was extinguished. There was only the cries of blade on blade. I existed only in the rhythm. Only in the flow of each movements.


    I drew forward, taking more and more advances as my opponent retreated. Desperate blocks one after another. I didn¡¯t relent, pressing on. Every little inch gained was a victory. Every breath that came shorter and shorter for my opponent.


    Then a final moment of desperation. He had blocked too late in that swing. I proceeded to whip around, grabbing at the opportunity.


    A speck of reasoning returned, reminding me of my original purpose. I slowed the fall of my blade-spear a little, purposely making it fall off the mark. A timely block. The desperation was overturned. I retreated.


    It was my opponent¡¯s turn to press onward. Our tempo remained steady, still lingering in that pace, in that eternal thundering rainstorm. More advances. More retreats. I made a slight falter in my retreat. A purposeful disadvantage.


    It was taken advantaged of immediately. A slash came curving downward. I blocked. Just barely in time. Another slash, and another parry. Still barely in time. A few more strokes. The last one was late. Another strike. And my return even more late. Then the last strike.


    ¡°Enough,¡± I shouted, my blade-spear flying off from my hands in that last strike. I gave Brother Leaping Fox a slight look, a quick turn of my eyes. He let out a small grin to show that he had noticed it.


    Brother Leaping Fox went toward my blade-spear, picking it up in one fell swoop. He handed it to me before putting an arm around my shoulder. ¡°Good spar, Brother Wolf Under Stars,¡± he said, his voice just loud enough to carry over to the four female Hunters. ¡°That was good Brother,¡± he whispered under his breath. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would try that hard. The last end was especially well feigned.¡±


    ¡°You tried too hard,¡± I returned his words. ¡°Why does it seem to me that you tried harder in this spar than in all the previous spars combined?¡±


    ¡°Have to do your best when girlies are watching,¡± he whispered amiably.


    ¡°What happened to the original plan,¡± I whispered back.


    ¡°Plans change.¡± He removed the arm around my shoulders. ¡°Anyway, they wouldn¡¯t have believed a feigned spar.¡± He twirled his blade-spear gaudily around, then slightly toward the four female Hunters.


    They didn¡¯t miss that slight provocative movement.


    I went back to the sidelines, standing to the right of Hidden Shade. ¡°Well, this will certainly be interesting.¡± I paused, watching the four Sun Cherishers Hunters narrow their eyes at that showy display from Leaping Fox. ¡°Anyway, what did Leaping Fox bribe you with for this farce?¡±


    ¡°To help me ride on the Vulcan,¡± Hidden Shade replied.


    ¡°I should have known,¡± I murmured to myself. ¡°You bloody beast fanatic.¡±


    ¡°Compliments now, Brother Wolf?¡± Hidden Shade asked innocently. ¡°That¡¯s rare as rain in the middle of the year.¡±


    I sighed at that. ¡°At least the spar turned out to be a good farce. Brother Leaping Fox is the weakest with the blade-spear in our group anyway. His forte lies in ranged weapons. They will underestimate me now. That is, if they did not see through that spar.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± said Hidden Shade. ¡°Even I could barely tell whether that spar was a sham. I doubt they could tell it.¡±


    I smiled at that. ¡°You seem more¡­articulate today, dear Brother Hidden Shade.¡±


    He pointed a finger upward. ¡°Vulcans,¡± he said simply.


    The conversation ended on that note and we turned to focus on the middle of the courtyard. The gaudy display from Leaping Fox had worked and one of the female Hunters had stepped forward.


    ¡°Ah,¡± Leaping Fox said, his voice just loud enough for us to hear. ¡°So it is Sister Flara. Will you show me some pointers, though do go easy on me. I am frightened of you.¡± His voice and face were genuine as he stated that, though that small grin detracted from the honesty.


    I shook my head at that. Leaping Fox was full of contradictions. I wouldn¡¯t have grinned were I in his situation. Sister Flara, after all, was the one who had made a comment about ripping his balls off.


    ¡°Likewise, Brother Leaping Fox,¡± Sister Flara said sweetly, her smile like honeyed blood. ¡°Make sure to give me lots of pointers too. And I will return them three-fold.¡± Her fingers folded into a grip, making a few cracking noises. ¡°I have a particular weakness for blade-spears.¡± Her hands moved toward her shoulders and she drew out her weapons from the two protruding sheaths. ¡°And a slight dislike. I favor these two little babies of mine instead.¡±


    I could imagine and hear the nervous gulp from Brother Leaping Fox. Those were definitely not babies. The weapons were daggers curved wickedly. And if straightened out, they would each have been about an arm¡¯s length long. Not surprisingly, just like all true weapons, the blades were made of black Xeonite metal, the hardest metal known to the tribes if disregarding the fallen star metal.


    ¡°They are called Half-Moon Daggers,¡± Sister Flara explained, each of her hands easily holding the white hilt of the twin daggers. She entered into a stance, her feet spread apart firmly. Then her hands, side-by-side, moved below her waist. The two curved daggers made a half-circle, their ends almost reaching toward her shoulders. The image formed gave credence to the name of the wickedly curved daggers¡ªHalf-Moon.


    I saw a small bead of sweat hover precariously on top of his forehead. It was sweat from our sparring. But at that moment, I imagine it to be sweat from being horrified at Sister Flara¡¯s red honeyed smile.


    Indubitably, I would not have liked to be in Leaping Fox¡¯s boots. It was a good thing that I had switched roles with Brother Leaping Fox in that farce of a spar¡ªI had avoided in being the sacrificial Ronat.


    Brother Leaping Fox turned back to look at me, his eyes pleading. He mouthed out a statement. The easiest statement to recognize¡ª¡°Help me.¡±


    I responded by twirling my blade-spear gaudily. ¡°Good luck,¡± I mouthed back.


    Finding no help with me, Brother Leaping Fox looked toward Hidden Shade and Brother Ronat. They only remained silent.  It was an expected reaction. What would he have expected anyway?


    I smiled as I watched Brother Leaping Fox and  Hunter Flara  start the dance before the battle. They circled around each other at a set distance, their eyes warily looking over each other, measuring, judging, calculating.


    My smile grew even wider as Hunter Flara made a show of licking the blade of one of her Half-Moon Daggers.


    Yes, this would certainly be fun. Luckily for me, I was no longer in on the fun.


    <><><><><><><


    AN NOTE: Well guys, hoped you enjoy the chapter. And I will be gone the next 2-3 days on a short trip, so most likely expect the next chapter by then. Been a busy week.


    Next Chapter title:-- An Even Friendlier Spar

 Chapter 19: An Even Friendlier Spar

    Chapter 19: An Even Friendlier Spar


    Smile. Continue smiling.


    Cry. Continue Crying.


    So many ups and downs in a life.


    If only I could go back and make the most of them, I would.


    -The Sin-Bearer


    The engagement began in less than a blink of an eye. One moment, Hunter Flara stood circling around Leaping Fox, and in the next moment, she had already closed the distance. A flashing arc that cut across the stomach.


    A step backward to regain his distance and range, Leaping Fox entered into a parry. The two weapons clashed for a brief moment before another dagger came flying toward his open side. Immediately noticing the danger of close combat, Leaping Fox retreated backward, breaking off from the clash.


    But there was not even one moment of respite given. He only had time to enter into a Higher Guarded Stance before Flara closed the distance once more, her two Half-Moon daggers making quick sweeping motions that left a blurry trail of black metal.


    Each time Leaping Fox parried a dagger, another came toward his opened side, forcing him to retreat. He was disadvantaged, given not even one second to regain his bearings.


    Parries. Blocking with the shaft of the blade-spear. Evades. More parries.


    The two Hunters danced across the courtyard, and as the sun reached went further past its apex, their shadows shortened, following along like shadows do. Scarlet hair flashing, a cheerful grin on her face. Jet-black hair flashing, a concentrated frown on his face. It showed just how hard-pressed Brother Leaping Fox was, fighting against a style which he had never fought before.


    I could see the furrowing of his brows, the concentration flashing in his eyes as he deftly blocked, parried, and evaded. Another retreat. A follow-up from his opponent. There would be no escape.


    Then a quick switch to a one-handed grip on the blade-spear. Knowing that he could not break the pace of the battle by just defending, Leaping Fox made a huge jump backward, swiftly proceeding into a crouch. Still crouched, his blade-spear arched across into a huge sweeping motion. Sweeping Full Moon.


    The surprise on her face was visible as the blade-spear made to cut across her legs. Faced with no choice, Flara retreated backward. Her Half-Moon daggers couldn¡¯t have countered the powerful Sweeping Full Moon and had she jumped upward, she would have been left vulnerable in the air.


    The second that was gained from her retreat was fully used by Leaping Fox. He switched into an Assailing Stance and began his counterattacks, making use of his full range. Full arcs. Full Moon. Wide arcs. Whirlwind. Sweeping motions. All of it from the longest range possible and backed with the entirety of his strength.


    It was costly in terms of energy and stamina, tiring to utilize your full strength in such long range attacks. The full strength was needed so that Flara could not counter by blocking or parrying the blade-spear. She could only be forced to retreat and evade.


    Like a leaf being led by the wind, Flara was forced to dance around, the blade-spear leading her movements. She was like a cat on hot sand, jumping around here and there, furiously evading.


    It was a precarious situation. One wrong evasion, one late timing and there would be fatal wounds. If she fell prey to the sweeping motions, she would lose her legs instantly. And if she fell prey to the dancing wide arcs that cut across her upper body, she would lose an arm or even entertain a deep laceration.


    Brother Leaping Fox gave no respite. He put everything he had into his attacks. From a spar, it had turned into a full fledged battle.


    The grin on her face was erased, turning into a gritting of her teeth as she dodged left and right, side-stepping narrowly and retreating. They continued these exchanges for a few minutes. And as time passed, I could see the breaths on both of them coming harder and faster, the sweat falling down their foreheads.


    Another sweep from Leaping Fox, but this time Flara went still, not retreating. She switched her grips on the hilts of her Half-Moon daggers, turning them around so that she held them like a short sword with the curved edge pointing downward. Stepping in, she slammed both of her weapons down onto shaft of the blade-spear, the points of the curved edges digging deep into the earthen ground, locking the body of the blade-spear in place.


    Leaping Fox grunted, trying to break free of the block, while Flara exerted her strength into pressing down the blade-spear. They were both at a standstill as one attempted to imprison and the other attempted to break free. The spar soon devolved into a contest of strength.


    A red curl of a smile blossomed on her face and Flara instantly released her grip on her weapons. She charged forward, surprising Leaping Fox. The surprise lasted only for a brief half second, before Leaping Fox also released the handle of his blade-spear.


    Leaping Fox quickly blocked the incoming kick with an arm. But it was an immediate regret for him as he withheld the pain with a small grimace. A kick was definitely not suitable to block with an arm, especially a kick that had gained momentum from a whirl. There had been no time to block it with a kick of his own, however, so it was his next best choice.


    The contest once more devolved. Now it was an all-out brawl. Proceeding immediately from that block, Leaping Fox entered into a kick of his own to block another incoming kick. They flowed from punches to kicks to sweeps and to even head-butting one another.


    After that exchange of headbutts, they rubbed at their soon to be bruises, glaring at each other, a slight curving on both of their lips. In a few minutes, they would have the colors to show for them.


    Then they began once more. They traded fists and kicks, blow for blow.


    I even winced at some of their exchanges. Even my two Brothers did.


    A kick in the stomach traded for a palm strike against the face. Brother Leaping Fox ate the latter strike and Flara ate the former.


    A jumping knee-kick that was initiated by Flara which was caught by Leaping Fox who proceeded to catch it, whirling her around half a circle before throwing her. She hit the ground with a hard thud, but recovered quickly.


    Vengeance for that throw came with double payback. A sweeping kick connected and Leaping Fox fell sideways, but before he even had a chance to fall down, a kick with the other leg came flying toward his chest.


    He flew far and wide from the force of the kick. And dirt was thrown up from the earthen floor of the courtyard.


    The exchanges became more and more furious as the fight grew longer. It was not even a brawl now. The spar had devolved into a punch for a punch, a kick for a kick. It was a matter of determination and endurance.


    Were it me, I would have long given up. It was just not worth it, speaking from a practical and pain-free position.


    ¡°You aren¡¯t half bad, Brother Leaping Fox,¡± Sister Flara said grudgingly between a few breaths. They had been fighting continuously for more than ten minutes. And though that ten minutes may not have seemed like much, but the concentration in a fight takes a toll far heavier than running for a few hours.


    ¡°Neither are you, Sister Flara,¡± Leaping Fox replied. ¡°Shall we call it a tie? I think I have enough bruises already.¡±


    Her hands formed into fists, opening and closing for a few seconds. There was an amused smile on her face. ¡°Did you know, Brother Fox, that I have the abilities Determination and Versatile?¡± Her body tensed and her face became hard, concentrated upon her opponent. Even from here, I could feel the determination sweating off from her.


    Leaping Fox shot a helpless look toward us. Again, I twirled my blade-spear in response. Then I extended my blade-ridges as if to say why not fight with them. Leaping Fox shot me a look that asked if I was insane.


    I chuckled softly. In a spar, we usually avoided fighting with blade-ridges as that would be multiple times more dangerous. And blade-ridges would take longer to heal. ¡°Looks like Brother Leaping Fox is having some troubles.¡± I shot a curious look toward Brother Ronat. ¡°Say, what did he bribe you with to make you agree to this anyway?¡±


    ¡°Just for relief,¡± Brother Ronat simply replied. ¡°I knew his mouth would be the doom of him.¡±


    I turned my attention once more on the courtyard. The two opponents were now exchanging flurry of fists, weaving left and right. A few more minutes passed by before Brother Leaping Fox finally raised his hands in defeat. He had simply grown tired of the sparring that seemed to go nowhere.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Flara frowned at his surrender. ¡°That¡¯s no fun, Brother Leaping Fox.¡±


    ¡°Consider it your win,¡± he said. ¡°Your determination is too much for me.¡± He plastered his usual grin onto his face. ¡°In addition, your body is pretty good.¡±


    A double meaning? I wasn¡¯t too sure. The thoughts of Brother Leaping Fox were too complicated to contemplate.


    ¡°I will take that as a compliment,¡± Flara said, returning to her group in an easy walk. There was a look of dissatisfaction on her face. Dissatisfaction at winning too easily.


    The afternoon ended on that note when Hunter returned. There was a hint of dark worries on his face and in his eyes. You could tell from how the usual amusement in his eyes had fled from the slight angling of his brows. They were not noticeable signs, but once you have been with an individual for many years, you start to notice the small things.


    There were no more spars after that and we had gotten some measures of each other¡¯s capabilities. We all called it a day, and Brother Hidden Shade was satisfied after learning that we would accompany their hunts by riding on the Vulcans.


    If Brother Hidden Shade hadn¡¯t received his end of the deal, it was likely that he have went out and challenged the female Demona Hunters into a bet. A bet to lend their Vulcans to him.


    To each their own motivations, I suppose.


    ========


    In the two weeks that passed by before the Night Sky tribe arrived, we quickly settled into a routine. In the morning, we would accompany the Sun Cherishers on a hunt and in the afternoon, we would tour their village. But even after the two weeks, the place still remained a veritable maze.


    As was expected, we didn¡¯t do well in the hunts. There were various reasons for that. We weren¡¯t too familiar with the Valley of Suns. Our expertise was also different from theirs. We had never had any practice shooting with a bow from atop a Vulcan.


    Sure, our training included various ranged weapons, but the focus was mainly on the blade-spears, throwing daggers, and setting up traps. However, Brother Leaping Fox with his ability to aim far and true did quite well.


    The beasts in the Valley of Suns were interesting creatures. We hunted a various assortment of prey, including birds and animals which traveled in herds. Let me tell you. If you have never hunted prey in the air while riding a Vulcan that could travel the whole of the northern forests in just a day, then that is great for you. I have found the experience to be less than satisfactory. I had accidentally plucked a feather from the Vulcan on my first ride and almost obtained a free lesson in crashing into a tree.


    Nothing is ever truly free though¡ªthat free lesson would have certainly come with pain bordering on the possibility of death.


    The herd animals were also dangerous. Kill one of them, and they would all retaliate. Having more than one hundred Yalors chase you across the swathe of a valley, through its ups and downs, was not my idea of fun. But that kind of game was just one among the many favorite pastimes of the Sun Cherishers Hunters.


    In the end, I never called them out on their flawed idea of what constitutes as fun. Fifty Sun Cherisher Hunters with their flawed ideas of fun against my sole idea of fun was not a situation I dare even contemplate happening.


    In my exploration of the village, I also discovered a few fields of colorful plants and flowers behind the building which we lived in. A field of Caranathus and a few flowers which I did not recognize. Pink, yellow, red, blue, violet. There was a whole spectrum of colors spotted in those fields.


    The Roost Towers were also interesting buildings. The structures were made extensively with opened windows every few floors. There was also a spiraling staircase that sprouted from the middle of the tower, leading all the way to the top of the roof. In these floors, there would be the nests of Vulcans and their eggs.


    Hidden Shade, undoubtedly, was the most excited one in these visits to the Roost Towers. I even had to follow him around to make sure he didn¡¯t accidentally take any eggs out of excitement.


    I must admit though, Brother Hidden Shade had a way with animals and beasts. The Vulcans immediately warmed up to him, like a bird taking to air, like a duck taking to water. The little ones even followed him around like little ducklings following a mother duck. The scenes even impressed the Sun Cherishers who had worked with the Vulcans all their lives.


    And like always, there came the side comment from Brother Leaping Fox.


    ¡°Well, Brother Hidden Shade,¡± he said, pointing at a female Vulcan. It was easy to tell the male and females apart. On the female Vulcans, there was a crown of colorful feathers surrounding their necks. ¡°My years of experience seem to tell me that this female Vulcan over there has a predatory look in her eyes for you.¡± Leaping Fox arched a brow toward Hidden Shade. ¡°If you know what I mean.¡±


    I joined in. Even I could not resist the temptation, the lull of ¡°mockhood.¡± Nodding my head, I said, ¡°There does seem to be an excited light in her eyes. Be very careful, Brother Hidden Shade. I would not want to lose you to a Vulcan.¡±


    Like always¡ªwell, mostly always, Brother Hidden Shade took it in good strides. He ignored us, and continued rubbing at the feathers of the Vulcans.


    When the Night Sky tribe arrived, the sun had just woken up alongside us. Their Hunters came dressed in shades of black, wearing black slacks and a lighter colored hooded mantle that covered only their shoulders and faces, leaving their chests bare.


    From my observations, the only weapons they appeared to use were these gauntlets with one large blade protruding from the knuckles, a bow hung on their backs or carried in one easy hand, and an assortment of pouches. I held no doubts that the pouches held many objects which I did not know of.


    When their hoods came off, it took much effort to hold in my surprise, especially with Brother Leaping Fox beside me.


    ¡°Well, I certainly would not want to join their tribe,¡± Leaping Fox said. A hand moved upward to smooth his long hair. ¡°Baldness is not a great fit for me. It cuts away half of my handsomeness. The ladies of our tribe would go sulk in the corners of their rooms if I did that.¡±


    ¡°I certainly agree with you on that point,¡± I replied. ¡°Not the latter points of course, but the former.¡±


    ¡°Search deep in your heart, Brother, and you will know the latter points to be true also.¡±


    Baldness may have been the reason for my Brother¡¯s surprise. But strictly speaking, mine was more practical. There were runic markings on both their faces and their heads. I winced in pain for them. It must have been an agony. I would not recommend anyone to undergo Eraiteis on their faces.


    We whispered our observations back and forth to each other, while Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade added in a few thoughts of their own.


    ¡°Fashion aside, the practicality of having runic markings on their faces is not half bad. It will toughen your face,¡± Hidden Shade added.


    ¡°What if one would like to reserve the face for the softer matters of life?¡± Leaping Fox asked.


    I frowned at that. ¡°Is that even a phrase?¡±


    ¡°It is now,¡± he replied.


    ¡°What does it even mean?¡± Hidden Shade asked with a somewhat curious look. ¡°I have a feeling of what it means, but it never hurts to make sure.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Leaping Fox stared. ¡°I suppose it could be construed as the harder matters of life also.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Hidden Shade dully said.


    Luckily, we were all too far away to be heard by the Night Sky Hunters else we would have received glares.


    What I didn¡¯t know that morning was that with the arrival of the Night Sky Hunters and their lead Hunger, they also brought with them a special kind of foreboding and an incident that would change me for the rest of my life, thus forever closing off some paths in the many roads which an individual could travel in his or her life.


    I had observed the beginnings of the incident. Tidbits here and there, but I had never truly connected these observations, these passing curiosities.


    Funny how others call me perceptive, yet all the perceptiveness in me could not have warned me of the incident that had crept up so slowly upon me.

 Chapter 20: Vengeance-Sworn

    Chapter 20: Vengeance-Sworn


    I didn¡¯t know it back when I was a child, but dreams are powerful revelations.


    Especially the old and familiar dream that would haunt me for the entirety of my long life.


    All dreams are based upon certain truths, certain observations sprouted from seeds which one does not pay heed to most of the time.


    Most dreams are useless, but some are revelations.


    Like the dream that haunts me so.


    Some dreams¡ª


    Subconscious truths hidden deep within your minds, impaired by the conscious world, only being able to awaken inside the subconscious world.


    Some dreams¡ª


    You wish you never had them.


    -Wolf Under Stars


    A few days passed by routinely as the members of the Night Sky tribe settled in and they joined in on our mass-scale hunts. During these few days, and even the prior two weeks, I had not seen Hunter show his face around us for most of the days. He was always gone in the next second, the next moment.


    We would be lucky if we even saw him for an hour or two each day. But for the rest of the day then, he was simply gone. Vanished, and nowhere to be found in the village.


    I didn¡¯t pay Hunter¡¯s absence much attention though. And for that matter, neither did my three Brothers. There was just a passing curiosity at his absence. We weren¡¯t worried. Hunter was¡­Hunter, after all. What would we even worry about? We were sure he had matters to attend to.


    So the days passed and the day for the New Year Hunt began. The twelve of us, four Hunters from each of the tribe, traveled deeper into the Valley of Suns. There wasn¡¯t really much to the hunt. We simply had a small rivalry ignited between the twelve of us in which each and every one chose to find and hunt down the rarest beast. In reality, The New Year Hunt was a simple informal gathering of the young Hunters from the three Demona tribes¡ªa get-to-know.


    Instead, the main focus was the competition after the New Year Hunt. It would begin a day after the hunt.


    Night fell like it always does. Even in the Valley of Suns, there were no particular changes in the way the sun sets, the way the moon shines.


    But that night was different.


    In my sleep, I dreamt an old familiar dream. A dream I had not experienced in almost four years.


    A world of white-washed nothingness. An endless expanse of white nothingness with nothing but time and myself for company.


    Endless. Nothing. Endless. Nothing. Endless. Nothing.


    A repetition of patterns that could drive one insane. And I stood in the middle of it all.


    It was the same dream I had back when I had been afflicted with the dream fever in the First Hunt. It was the same dream that had marked the beginning of the increasingly great changes which had been wrought in my blood.


    But this time, the dream was different. It was not a difference in the sceneries of white nothingness¡ªit was the ambiance of the world. My perception of the world felt sharper. Almost as if the world had become closer to reality.


    As expected, next came the jagged black lines that appeared out of nowhere. They were like crevices with limitless depth. It was as if the white world was shattering into millions of pieces.


    Then came the sea of redness which gushed out from the dark crevices, drowning the world of white-washed nothingness into a blood-washed world.


    As the seconds passed by. As the minutes passed by. As the hours passed by.


    Days. Years.


    Like an eternity.


    My world soon became filled to the brim with the redness, and I drowned inside that scarlet sea. And though I say drowned, there were no accompanying sensations. There was only¡­existing.


    The dream did not end there. It continued until the sea eventually drained away. And from beneath my bare feet, a long red shadow extended outward. Thus, in the middle of that shattered white-washed world, I stood face to face with my blood-red shadow.


    Everything fell apart then. Vanished like dreams eventually do.


    And I woke up sweating in the middle of the night despite the cool of the room, despite the cool of the night. A strange feeling entered my mind. A sort of uneasiness, a sort of foreboding.


    For a few minutes, I entertained the thoughts of going back to sleep. And I attempted to carry out that task, but none came. Sleep had become impossible. I removed myself from the bed, silently exiting my room, then the building.


    For almost an hour, I walked around aimlessly. The cool moonlit night felt as if I were in a never-ending dream. A borderless dream that would continue on without any regards.


    When I returned from my brief nightly walk, I went around the building, intending to look at the fields of flowers. For some strange reason, a subtle feeling was urging me to visit there. A subtle, yet undeniable feeling.


    There, I saw amidst the fields of flowers with its Caranathus, Aramanthus, and Bellarans, what I would never have expected to see.


    A tall shadowy figure with a glinting reddish blade-spear stood amidst a field of Caranathus flowers and surrounding that figure were multiple other shadows. And further around them were many Vulcans. The form of the surrounded shadowy figure was at once familiar to my eyes. I would recognize it anywhere¡ª


    The figure belonged to Hunter. In that field of Caranathus, he stood there staring at the building, his dark eyes even darker and glinting with a dark something, a reminiscent sadness. No longer was there that glow of amusement in those eyes.


    Then the eyes fell upon me. And the eyes of the surrounding shadowy figures with their hoods also fell upon me. I didn¡¯t recognize any of them, especially with their hoods on. I did a quick count. There were about nine of these hooded figures, including Hunter.


    The nine shadowy figures moved toward me and my surprise chose to clobber me at the same inconvenient moment. They surrounded me in an instant, Hunter in the lead. Beside him, I recognized a somewhat familiar face under the hood. It belonged to the messenger who had visited our tribe three weeks ago.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± I asked, my surprise already leaving me. But with my surprise leaving, idiocy entered. It was a stupid question I had asked.


    Hunter let out a small dark chuckle, removing his hood. And though it was a grim chuckle, there was a bitterness in it. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to be still awake, Wolf Under Stars. It¡¯s far past midnight already.¡±


    It became, at once, strange. Hunter never simply called me Wolf Under Stars. He would usually add something before my name.


    I responded truthfully, ¡°A familiar dream woke me up and I went for a long walk.¡±


    The hood came off from the figure beside Hunter. It only confirmed my suspicions. The face belonged to the messenger from the Sun Cherishers tribe, the one who had visited us during the All Festival.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he said, his voice a soft hiss. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. We must go soon before it is too late.¡±


    ¡°Relax,¡± Hunter said softly but firmly. He let out a long lasting sigh. ¡°I wonder myself why I wished to see you children before I leave.¡±


    What do you mean?


    For some reason, the words became stuck in my throat. No, not even my throat. It was still stuck in my mind. I dared not even ask the question, so strong was the dark silent, oppressive mood around me.


    ¡°Enough,¡± the messenger said. He directed a black gloved hand toward me.


    As soon as I saw that threatening movement, I became guarded, watching for any threats. But none came. Hunter had raised his hand toward him, gesturing at him to stop whatever he was about to do.


    Then Hunter looked at me for a long while, our eyes meeting each other. He shook his head softly. A small bitter smile was given. He brought his palm down.


    ¡°Sleep!¡± the messenger commanded furiously, as much as fury could be heard in a whispered voice.


    My mind suddenly became drowsy, and my vision blurry. My legs felt as if they would give in any moment, wobbly as an old creaking desk burdened by age.


    Sleepy. I am sleepy. A bed would be good now.


    I felt my legs give way, my knees now the only thing that kept me upright.


    Lethargy. Sleep. Drowsy.


    My blurred vision only witnessed the scene of the eight shadowy figures leaving. And soon even Hunter started to walk away, abandoning me to my sleep.


    A fire ignited in me at that. A voice rebelled inside me.


    I WILL NOT GIVE IN TO YOUR INTENTION!


    My blood went into its pseudo-surging, and like a light that had been ignited in the middle of an all-encompassing darkness, I started burning away the drowsiness. It was akin to that of light burning away the darkness.


    Still on my knees but my vision now clear, I shouted, ¡°Stop!¡±


    The nine figures turned around. And the messenger had a surprised look to his face.


    Hunter gave a small laughter, one which did not hold the previous tinge of bitterness. ¡°Looks like his will is strong enough to overcome your Intention, Brother Lunaris.¡±


    So Lunaris was the messenger¡¯s name, I thought to myself.


    Hearing Hunter¡¯s words, Lunaris shot an irritated look at him. ¡°He was simply lucky,¡± he said coldly, walking toward my knelt form.


    I looked up at him and he looked down at me. I formed a small smile. ¡°Next time, put a stronger will behind your Intention.¡± Stupidity, I knew. I shouldn¡¯t have been putting on a mask of bravado in front of this Hunter. But sometimes, bravado is all you have left. It wasn¡¯t as if I could do anything else against him anyway.


    Still, the bravado wasn¡¯t just stupidity itself. I was also using it to buy myself some time. I could already feel some of my strength returning, clearing away more of the drowsiness. Then I took a deep breath, instantly entering into Blodvraz, into my starblood form.


    My blade-ridges unfurled outward from inside my body, and I started to activate all of my runic enhancements. Three seconds. I would need to hold on for that long before the enhancements would activate.


    By that thought, I quickly stood up and my fist was already traveling forward in midair, itching to smash into something. Preferably a face. Preferably one that belonged to Lunaris.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    But even in his surprise and even with my unexpected attack, Lunaris still managed to block my punch with one easy palm. He said coldly, ¡°You will at least need decades and decades of experience before you can even begin to imagine me as your opponent.¡±


    A pain shot through my stomach like an ignited Essence bomb. It was extremely quick, so quick that my trained reflexes didn¡¯t even kick in. Only after his punch had connected with my stomach did I realize I had been punched by Lunaris.


    I slumped over, my hands holding onto my abdomen. I looked upward at Lunaris, my four fangs biting down my lips. He had used a Pain Intention on me. It was why a simple punch had multiplied, exploding into a dozen punches.


    Hunter walked over, a small frown on his face. ¡°You didn¡¯t need to use a Pain Intention, Lunaris.¡±


    The messenger shrugged his shoulders. ¡°He is tougher than I imagined.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°As expected of one trained by Brother Arkiees, I suppose. He didn¡¯t easily keel over with that one punch.¡±


    Surprise filled me at that unexpected revelation of Hunter¡¯s name.


    Arkiees¡ªno, Hunter¡ªdirected an annoyed look toward Lunaris. ¡°I have long abandoned that name.¡±


    ¡°Then you shouldn¡¯t have called me Lunaris,¡± he retorted. ¡°I too have long abandoned that name.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Hunter simply said, his shadowy figure now standing before me. He directed an outstretched palm at me.


    I didn¡¯t give him a chance to use any Intention on me. ¡°Wait! At least explain to me why you are doing this. Where are you going?¡± I quickly asked.


    Hunter sighed, looking back at a few of the cloaked figures. They nodded at him. ¡°Well, looks like we still have some time left, Hunter Wolf Under Stars.¡± He looked up at the starry sky, his face ponderous. ¡°Where should I even begin?¡±


    Lunaris sniffed at that from beside him.


    Hunter ignored it. ¡°It began almost twenty four years ago¡± he started, then paused at that, letting the silence fill the night.


    Twenty four years ago. My mind spun around at that, trying to connect the thoughts. For a few seconds, there was only a frantic chaos in my mind, if that even made any sense. Then it hit me. The story of the black dragon Elder Magus Zelas had spoken off.


    Hunter continued on with his story, unaware of my thoughts¡­of my suspicions.


    ¡°During that time, our tribe was still an all Demona tribe with the Wraithborn tribe as our closest neighbor. I wasn¡¯t the lead Hunter back then. Instead, I was a Hunter under the direct command of the lead Hunter. And of course, I was infatuated with the lead Hunter. She was fascinating, everything beautiful. From the moment of my childhood to my long years as an adult, I had given her my heart.¡±


    Another bitter smile, and the bitterness traced his voice. ¡°Everything was going well for me back then. Having reached my fifty years of age, I earned the name Arkiees, graduating from my traditional animal name. Arkiees. It was a beloved name given to me by the lead Hunter, by Astera.¡±


    A glint of a tear, still unformed. It gave a sad luster to his dark eyes, made darker by the cool silent night. ¡°She was everything you could imagine and more. A sad and too used phrase, I know. But nothing else could describe her. She was the youngest to be lead Hunter at the age of only twenty. She excelled at everything and gave more effort than anyone else. No matter how I try catching up to her, I was always left behind. Always in second place, always chasing her back.¡±


    Hunter smiled, a still bitter smile. It made the night only colder and even more silent. ¡°It happened on the morning, a morning that was supposed to be joyous. You see, I was planning on asking her to marry me. I could feel it. I knew that she loved me back. Too many years spent with her told me that easily. I knew that she would say yes to me.¡±


    His eyes became darker, glinting with fury. There was an unrestrained violence in those dark orbs I had never seen before. As if his fury could drown everything, as if wanting to lash out at the whole world. ¡°Then the black dragon attacked our tribe,¡± Hunter spat out the words like dirt in his mouth.


    ¡°We gathered many of the Hunters to retaliate and start a defense. The Wraithborn, also witnessing the black dragon, quickly gathered their Magus to help us. In the end, none of it mattered to that ancient dragon, to that dragon of decay and death. His dark flames razed everything to ashes, destroying the village and killing many of our brethren.¡±


    A small tear traced the edge of his left eye, lingering there like a bitter regret, like a festering wound that would never be able to heal. ¡°I was stupid in my rage. In my rage at seeing a few of my close Brothers being killed. They were treated like small infants against that ancient monster.¡± Hunter laughed, a dark sad laugh that seemed to echo the night softly. ¡°Of course, fury knows no bounds for the chosen of the red hearts. But that is merely an excuse. Let me advise you as one chosen of the red heart to another. You can control your fury, temper it into a weapon.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Anyway, in my unbridled fury, I took it upon myself to assault the black dragon from behind. As it was diving down to breathe down its black flames, I vaulted onto its back from a building and began my way upward. I knew that it was useless trying to aim for its body. It was impervious to every attacks, even wide-scaled magic from the Magus. After all, there were plenty of proof as everyone scrambled to battle the dragon.¡±


    Hunter raised his head, looking at the stars as if they could vanish away the past. ¡°As I scaled its back, and as the wind howled furiously around me, I moved toward its head with rage in my heart. It was a futile attempt to get at its eyes. You see, the dragon was merely toying with me. It already knew that I was on its back, struggling like a measly worm.¡±


    ¡°The dragon landed onto the ground and its tail whipped at me from behind, knocking me aside and breaking most of my ribs in the process. I smashed into the walls of a building when I finally crawled out from the rubbles, the dragon loomed above me. And its mouth was wide opened as if laughing at my futile attempt. Then its tail once more smashed onto my prone form, breaking all of my ribs and my arms.¡±


    Hunter sighed once more, bitterly laughing. ¡°It was undoubtedly toying with me, for it had whipped at me with its tail lightly. What was a mere caress of a tail to the black dragon was a broken ribcage and arms for me. Of course, trapped by the dragon and on the verge of death¡¯s door, Astera showed up.¡±


    Hunter closed his eyes for a brief moment. ¡°The rest is history and a festering pain in my heart that I will never share. She saved me and took one of its eyes in the process.¡± Fury burned in his eyes, and he traced a hand over the ancestral blade-spear. ¡°With this Cruel Moon Piercer, Astera took one of its eyes. Tonight, I will take its last remaining eye. All nine of us here are the Vengeance-Sworn. Four from the Night Sky tribe who had been terrorized by the black dragon fifty years ago, Four from the Sun Cherishers tribe who had been terrorized by the black dragon seventy years ago, and finally, me.¡±


    With his furious dark eyes, he met my own pair of eyes. ¡°Sleep,¡± Hunter Arkiees commanded.


    His voice was still a soft whisper, but the Intention he directed toward me was a falling mountain that attempted to bury me with its stony arms and rubbles.


    I rebelled at that Intention with all of my strength. But it was all for naught. I could do nothing against his willpower. It was willpower born from an endless hatred that had been slowly building up, an endless determination that would stop at nothing.


    But none of that really mattered in the end. The reason I could not overcome that willpower was that¡­in the end, he was Hunter, the only parental figure I had known. He was the elder Brother, the non-blood-related father of us eight Brothers, of me.


    The drowsiness slowly devoured me and I fell to the ground. And somehow, I found a small speck of strength to ask. ¡°What about your wife? Your daughter?¡± I whispered, thinking of Teacher Embracing Flower.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Hunter said bitterly. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he repeated. He looked around at fields of flowers sadly, and among them, the pink flowers with their six petals. ¡°You know, the Caranathus flowers are her favorites. They symbolize a great defiance, of formidable strength, and of decisive mental changes.¡±


    "Some past you cannot simply leave behind. They haunt your dreams every single night, and they are unforgiving at their best. The vengeance I have nursed in my heart for my Brothers and Astera can never be extinguished again. Far too many years have passed for that. I am nothing without my vengeance." Hunter turned his back toward me. ¡°Take care of them for me, Wolf Under Stars.¡± He proceeded a step, stopping there. ¡°I will be back.¡±


    Even in my drowsiness, my blurring senses, I could hear the badly-hidden lies in those words, in that statement. Hunter would not be surviving this.


    Powerless, paralyzed by the Intention, and with a blurred vision, I watched the nine shadowy figures leave, jumping atop their nine Vulcan mounts.


    The messenger Lunaris slightly turned his head to look down at me. It reminded me of his curious message.


    The Watchers have reported movements, and we have sent a messenger to the Night Sky tribe also.


    So Lunaris had been reporting the movements of the black dragon to Hunter?


    The Vengeance-Sworn, huh? Just how long had they been planning for the vengeance, soothing and nursing their dark dreams, their dark nightmares? Just how long?


    I laughed bitterly to myself. Not out loud, but in my mind, for I was paralyzed by the lethargy.


    They were more like Death-sworn. What could nine of them do to a dragon that had almost destroyed a whole tribe by itself?


    My vision turned even more blurry, and the nine Vulcans began to beat their wings, already hovering a few feet off the ground.


    More and more dimmer. Creeping blackness.


    Then.


    All was darkness, and I finally and fully fell down against the earthen floor. I fell down in the middle of the fields of flowers, amidst the soft pink of the Caranathus, the red of the Aramanthus, and the yellow of the Bellarans.


    =========


    AN: Well guys, get ready for a timeskip and a perspective change. It will be told from a [sub-main character]. ^_^


    As always, thanks for the comments. I read them all!

 Chapter 21: Competition and Determination

    Chapter 21: Competition and Determination


    Dragons are frightening creatures.


    Strength. Intelligence. Endurance. Agility. They had all of these in excess and more.


    But most do not lower themselves to attack a group of prey huddling together in villages. They are too lazy for that. The Dragons simply keep to their territories, wherever they may be at.


    Well, most of them do at least. After all, there are always exceptions.


    And the best advice when facing such an ¡°exceptional¡± dragon?


    Run.


    Then again, whoever listens to such advice even if it is as sure as the sun rising the next day?


    -Wolf Under Stars


    I woke to the sound of Brother Leaping Fox¡¯s voice. ¡°Wake up, Brother Wolf.¡±


    A groan escaped from my throat, and I struggled to a sitting position. The inside of my mouth felt dirty, but that was only to be expected from chewing dirt all night. Half of my face was also dirt-covered.


    A cursory glance at my surroundings reminded me of what happened last night¡ªmorning had already stolen the night away.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you would fall asleep after what seems to be some sort of nightly prance around in the flower fields,¡± Leaping Fox said with some amusement. His voice turned serious. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Where are Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade?¡± I asked, still trying to regain composure in my sitting position.


    ¡°Sleeping still,¡± he replied. ¡°I woke up early today.¡±


    Letting out a deep breath, I stood up and started patting the dirt away from my body and face. ¡°Have you seen Hunter?¡±


    Leaping Fox shook his head and he inspected me for a few seconds, eyes traveling up and down. ¡°No, why do you ask?¡± His eyes narrowed with a suspicion, even a little confusion. Then his face lit up as if realization had crawled all over. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you had a nightly rendezvous here¡­A chit-a-chat?¡±


    ¡°What in the world does that even mean?¡± A small trace of irritation painted my words. ¡°And no, that¡¯s not the reason why I am asking for Hunter.¡±


    He let out a small sigh of relief. ¡°Good, good. You don¡¯t know it, but Dance of First can be¡­how should I put it? Quite hard to handle, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°Never mind that. Let¡¯s wake the two up.¡±


    Letting Leaping Fox follow along me curiously, I made to leave the fields, heading toward the building where we lived in. It was a short walk, but for some reason it felt twice as long as usual.


    All of us Brothers are light sleepers. A slight noise out of the ordinary can wake us up. A slight change in the presence of the room or in the mood of the room. An unexpected intrusion. All of these would alert us awake. It is both a natural born and trained trait of the Hunters.


    Waking the two up with but a few words, I proceeded to explain to my three Brothers of what happened last night. It took a few moments to recount the whole story, like trudging through a mire, but eventually, I made it across.


    With a half-hearted mood, we passed the time in our own silent thoughts, breaking the silence every other moment or so to discuss what to do. In the end, there was really nothing more to do other than play the waiting game or to ask the lead Hunter of the Sun Cherishers tribe.


    Finally, we headed for the competition which would begin when the sun was at its apex.


    =======


    The competition was straightforward. It was a free for all with many of the Sun Cherishers Hunters spectating, including their lead Hunter. Their lead Hunter was a female Demona with short darkish violet hair that twirled around into curls near her shoulders.


    I narrowed my eyes at her, suspicion entering my heart. Had she known of the Vengeance-Sworn? It was likely for there were four of her tribe members that night. They could not have moved without the lead Hunter knowing.


    Then there were the Hunters of the Night Sky tribe. Only five of them had arrived, so where had the extra four come from? No doubt, it had something to do with the lead Hunter of the Sun Cherishers. Perhaps she had allowed them to enter the populace under some sort of guise, or perhaps even through use of Vulcans. There was no way to keep track of the skies after all.


    Since the contest was a free for all, we would begin by drawing lots, two of them having the same colors. For my lot, I drew a blue colored papyrus.


    And when the judge called out the blue lots to begin the first round, I frowned at my luck.


    Then I frowned even more as I saw who my opponent was. It was Sister Elera. I felt disappointed with my luck. Right from the start, I had drawn the crazy one as my opponent, the one who was even more battle-lustful than Sister Flara. Plenty of days spent with her during the daily hunts had revealed much of her nature.


    It wasn¡¯t a peaceful one. Especially when considering the fact that she had been born with the ability Strength from Anger. Sister Elera was definitely a Hunter I would not like to anger.


    The blade-spear I had brought with me turned out to be unnecessary. In the competition, we were all handed our preferred weapons, only except they were a duller version. Made safe, they had called it. Their definition of safe was liable to bruises and broken bones though.


    With that dull but competently balanced blade-spear in my hands, I stood facing against Sister Elera in the earthen courtyard. Surrounding the perimeters of the courtyard were the spectating Hunters along with a few other curious bystanders. In the forefront of the spectators were the contestants, along with my three Brothers.


    Using just my index finger, I traced the blade of the weapon longingly. Truth be told, I wasn¡¯t in any mood for a friendly competition. There were far greater worries on my mind. Worries and troubles I could not solve.


    I shook my head free of those burdensome thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I made a gesture of respect and of greeting to my opponent. Sister Elera returned it with a suppressed anger. Or was it withheld excitement I had mistaken for anger?


    Sister Elera was the tallest female Hunter in their group with her short violet-tinged black hair and dark violet eyes. As usual, the female Hunters were dressed in their outfits that left nothing to the imagination.


    I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be one to talk. I wasn¡¯t leaving much to the imagination either with only my black leggings weave, different from the usual clothing I wore. It was thin and I almost felt as if it would tear apart with a single strenuous exercise.


    The competition issued blade-spear also felt unfamiliar in my hands. As for the weapon my opponent wielded, it looked to be a long double bladed sword that was almost as tall as her. The handle of the double bladed sword looked to be four fists¡¯ length and each of the opposing blades about three feet in length.


    Another weapon that I had never seen before. She had not used anything similar in all of the hunts either, only resorting to a simple bow and daggers. I mused at that observation. The Hunters of the Sun Cherishers tribe seemed to have a love for exotic weapons. I inspected her weapon again. The handle looked especially intricate, as if it could come apart.


    Feeling the warm rays on my bared body, I looked up at the sun in its apex. My blade-ridges were retracted inside, not showing their deadly edges. My Eraiteis was also filled to the brim with the Nature and Light Essences.


    I activated it, knowing that some time would be needed.


    Three seconds.


    I was ready. Calmly, controlled, but most of all, unworried, I turned to face my opponent about ten steps away. This time, the spar did not begin with the silent consent from two opponents, but began when the judge nodded at us.


    Two seconds.


    No challenge. No battle-cries. I made none of them. There was only the calm, controlled silence inside me. Not even a hint of anger, of worry, of anything that could disturb the still pond that was my mind.


    One second.


    I moved without hesitation, closing the distance before lining up for a swing, attempting to carve halfway through her head. I proceeded onward, knowing that the swing would miss. And it did miss.


    Activation¡ªa soft golden flaring ran through the lines of power that was carved onto almost my whole body. The black runic markings of my Eraiteis glowed with a dim golden color. At the same time, I could see that her Eraieis had also been activated, just after mine did.


    I moved on, faster than ever before, the strength flowing through my whole body. The air felt crisp, sharp enough to burn a hole in my lungs. My feet shifted, kicking up dust and dirt. I proceeded into Charging Boar, a balanced thrust that bordered on the edges of both defense and attack.


    Another miss. She had dodged well again. But I gave her no respite, not even a single half second to regain her bearings. I moved faster than I ever did in my entire life, faster than I would have thought possible.


    Dancing Leaves.


    I moved into a series of skewed, slanted, and cross slashes. My blade traced arcs after arcs that seemed to come from nowhere, at oblique angles back and forth.


    But my opponent blocked them all, dodging and parrying. She held a somber countenance as she defended against my attacks. I didn¡¯t stop even though I could see was evading everything. I knew that she was hard-pressed now.


    I fought hard. Harder than I ever did. It seemed as if a lifetime of determination had taken control of my body. I wanted to finish to win. I wanted to finish this battle quickly.


    My blood entered its pseudo-surging, and I moved even faster. I fought even harder.


    Her somber countenance was now filled with worry and her teeth gnashed against each other. Her double bladed sword moved quickly blocking a few strikes. Then she jumped backward, taking some distance. Hands moving quickly, she twisted her double bladed sword apart, and in her two hands, she now held twin swords.


    As soon as her double bladed sword had separated, I was already within range once more. Her retreat had given me plenty of time to restart my Higher Assailing Stance and stand within a perfect range. I entered into the Phases of the Moon, one of the most complex series in the arts of the blade-spear.


    I began with Full Moon and it was met with both of her blades. It was the only way. I had not given her any time to dodge the strike, nor could she have blocked with just a one-handed weapon against the full force of my two-handed blade-spear.


    The force of my swing pushed her back half a step. New Moon, a shorter ranging arc in the Phases of the Moon. It pushed her back even more. I continued on, utilizing various Phases of the Moon, forcing her into a hard-pressed defensive retreat, sapping away at her strength.


    Her countenance was no longer somber and instead filled with anger. She became more forceful in her blocking. But it wasn¡¯t enough. No matter how much strength her fury lent her, she would not be able to overcome my strength, my determination.


    Suddenly, she stopped the full force of my swing easily, not even moving back a step. A realization hit me. My opponent had entered into her Blodvraz state¡ªher starblood form.


    So be it. I could also play the same game.


    My own Blodvraz activated and her eyes widened noticeably at that. I realized that she was most likely startled at the change that had come over my usual grey eyes. My eyes were now blood colored.


    I started pushing her back again. Now the fight had turned into a waiting game. The one who was exhausted first would lose. The moment you exited out of Blodvraz, you would instantly be defeated.


    I started counting the seconds as we fought at a standstill, with me still on the attacking side and her on the defending side.


    A second. Two. Four. Six.


    We continued our furious display of blocks, parries, and swings.


    Seven seconds. Eight seconds.


    Sister Elera coughed up a mouthful of blood and she went down on her knees, the two blades in her hands in an attempt to support her weight. At the same time, I stopped my blade-spear in the middle of a lunge, the blade hovering precariously close to her head. Moving back the weapon, I let it hung easily at my side.


    A gesture of respect. ¡°Thank you for the spar, Hunter Elera,¡± I said calmly, not allowing even the ecstasy that accompanied a victory to enter my voice.


    Her violet eyes looked up at me. They looked furious with a hint of something softer. Surprise perhaps. Or even a grudging respect. ¡°How long can you endure Blodvraz?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Ten seconds,¡± I replied without hesitation. There was no need to hide it. I thought for a second, then added, ¡°Without a backlash.¡±


    ¡°And how old are you?¡±


    ¡°Ten and a half year old almost,¡± I answered.


    The look of surprise on her face could not be hidden. The back of her hand that was still held onto the sword wiped at blood dripping from her mouth. ¡°I see. A year younger than me and you can last longer in Blodvraz than me.¡± Sister Elera stood up and connected the two blades in her hands, forming one single weapon. She spat out a small mouthful of blood. ¡°Damn monstrous,¡± she whispered to herself.


    I could only give a small smile at that. I didn¡¯t know if it was flattery or a curse.


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    ¡°Well, it looks like you will easily win this competition, Hunter Wolf Under Stars,¡± she said. ¡°I am almost evenly matched with Sister Solana, the strongest in our group. So I doubt she could even beat you even with her eight seconds of Blodvraz.¡± Her eyes held a perceptive glint. ¡°Still, that spar you had with your Brother was a fake, I see. I couldn¡¯t tell the difference at all.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I suppose you aren¡¯t weak, after all.¡±


    ¡°You aren¡¯t bad at all yourself. If I were honest, I doubt any of my Brothers could beat you, except perhaps Brother Ronat,¡± I said.


    She arched a brow. ¡°The small one? You think he could beat me? If that was a consolation, I don¡¯t feel happy at all. ¡±


    I shrugged at her.


    She laughed then. ¡°I guess my wounded pride today can recover. A word of advice though. Watch your back with the Night Sky Hunters. One of them is a tricky bastard.¡± She frowned. ¡°Actually, all of them are tricky bastards if I think about it.¡± A blood-covered grin. ¡°And now you are on the top of my list of tricky bastards.¡±


    ¡°I accept your compliment,¡± I said with an air of feigned disdain.


    My victory was soon announced after Sister Elera surrendered and we left the center of the courtyard then, allowing the next match to start.


    ¡°Well, you certainly frightened everyone with that show of strength,¡± Leaping Fox said with an amused chuckle. ¡°I can almost taste the surprise on their faces all the way from here. It¡¯s a good thing you decided to keep your strength under wraps even in the hunts. It is worth it to see these reactions.¡±


    The next five rounds of the competition proceeded somewhat unexpectedly. Both Brother Hidden Shade and Brother Leaping Fox lost to the members of the Night Sky tribe. Their bladed gauntlets were tricky weapons to counter and their legs were also used as weapons. They were far more skilled than us in unarmed combat.


    In the end, only Brother Ronat and I were the ones to advance along with two members from the Sun Cherishers tribe and the Night Sky tribe.


    ¡°Be careful of that big one I faced,¡± Leaping Fox warned us. ¡°His strength is overbearing. I almost thought I would sink to the ground with each of his strikes.¡±


    It was true. Even watching form the sidelines, I could feel the force of his strength. He had easily blocked the blade-spear with just one gauntlet fist. I suppose that was only to be expected from an eight feet and a half tall Hunter. A square jaw, a square head, a square fist¡ªsquared everything, including the muscles that lined his abdomen and his biceps.


    The two that had advanced from the Sun Cherishers tribe were Sister Flara and Sister Solana, the leader of their group. They had easily beaten their opponents from the Night Sky tribe.


    Leaping Fox smirked at Brother Ronat. ¡°So, how does it feel to beat Sister Mina?¡±


    ¡°Satisfactory,¡± Brother Ronat replied easily, not the least bothered by his question.


    Not giving up his fun, Leaping Fox said, ¡°Shame you beat her so quickly. She was just the right size for you to dance with. The two of you were like cute baby Ronats.¡±


    Brother Ronat fiddled with his fingers, a dark shadowy smile on his face. ¡°Indeed a shame. I wanted to play with her longer.¡±


    Startled, a silence came over Leaping Fox and the competition began after a brief rest, enough for our Blodvraz to recover.


    For my round, my opponent was Sister Flara whom I defeated easily. It took a while however, for she was a determined opponent. She went down hard yet at the same time easily. A contradiction, I suppose.


    As for Brother Ronat, he gained victory over the opponent that had defeated Leaping Fox. It was the longest fight of the competition where Brother Ronat kept running circles around his opponent. Never once stopping to rest, Brother Ronat chopped at the opponent like cutting down a big tree until he was black and blue with bruises.


    Sister Solana, however, lost narrowly to her opponent from the Night Sky tribe. She was mercilessly flung out of the courtyard by a barrage of kicks and palm chops when her defenses had slipped for a second.


    In the end, only three remained. Brother Ronat, the Hunter from the Night Sky, and me.


    We were unlucky with the lots, however. Brother Ronat and I were matched up against each other first. I was surprised though since Brother Ronat conceded victory to me quickly before the battle even began.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°You are a pain to deal with,¡± he simply replied.


    So we left it at that. Simple, but most of the times, it was like that between us.


    The final fight was a narrow victory for me. My opponent was a Night Sky Hunter two years older than me and his Blodvraz state could last up to ten seconds easily. Like the other members of his team, his head was shaved, but there was no denying the masculinity inherent in his face. He had a strong nose and dark brown eyes that could probably charm a snake. There were also lines of smiles set around his mouth, showing that he was a Hunter who probably laughed a lot.


    Even disregarding his Blodvraz, the strange thing that had almost overturned my victory were the runic enhancements on his hands and feet.


    The Night Sky Hunter let out a delighted laughter at his defeat. ¡°It is amazing that you could dodge all of my kicks and fists with such timing. Even my surprise attacks were of no use.¡±


    I rubbed at the stinging wounds and grazes all over my body and on my cheeks. ¡°You mean almost of no use. What is your Eraiteis anyway?¡±


    Taking off the blade gauntlet, he showed me his right hand, then activated the runic enhancements on it. ¡°These markings are what is known as Aura Extensions.¡± His face concentrated and the markings on his hands flared with a stronger golden light.


    A golden aura protruded from his hand, almost a finger¡¯s length long. His aura-covered hand then clashed with the blade of his gauntlet, making a dull thudding noise. ¡°You see, the aura extends the range of my fists.¡± He grinned at me. ¡°It is akin to attaching multiple small blades to your fingers or your whole fist if you prefer.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at his bared feet. ¡°No wonder you took of your boots before our fight began.¡± I grinned at him. ¡°Cunning. Was that why none of your other teammates showed off that skill?¡±


    He nodded, still that grin on his face. ¡°Good connection. Yes, I am the strongest in our team so I wanted to reserve this surprise attack for a really strong opponent.¡± He winked at me. ¡°If we had not reserved these enhancements, all four of us would have proceeded into the final rounds.¡±


    ¡°Sly,¡± I complimented again honestly.


    ¡°So what is your name, friend Hunter?¡± he asked.


    ¡°I am Wolf Under Stars,¡± I said. ¡°What is your name?¡±


    ¡°I am Umbrus,¡± he said. Then he smiled cheerfully before laughing out loud. ¡°Your tribe certainly should stop giving animal names to their Hunters. It is a tradition that should not be paid heed anymore. We are not beasts and why wait until fifty years old to earn a name?¡±


    We both laughed at that and I agreed with him.


    The Night Sky tribe. They weren¡¯t a bad lot at all, though their appearances gave off a wild savagery.


    The competition ended with our tribe as the victor. And though I was the champion, my mood was soon soured by thoughts of the Vengeance-Sworn.


    We asked the lead Hunter of the Sun Cherishers of the Vengeance-Sworn. She wasn¡¯t surprised by our questions nor by our knowledge of the Vengeance-Sworn.


    ¡°They are all fools,¡± she had simply said. ¡°And I am a bigger fool for having noticed it too late. I can only hope it is not too late as I have some of my most trusted Hunters looking for them at the moment.¡±


    A week passed by soon as we stayed in the Sun Cherishers tribe. By then, the Hunters of the Night Sky tribe had already left.


    Soon the report came. It came on a cheerful morning with the sun high up, its warm glows bathing the village and setting the rivers alight with their own suns. The report came directly from the mouth of the lead Hunter of the Sun Cherishers.


    And it was not good news.


    ¡°Dead. All dead. Only the dragon¡¯s black flames remain burning at the edges of the Wildlands. A whole forest and parts of the nearby land have been burnt and are still burning with the black flames of the dragon. The scouts cannot even get close to these areas for fear of being devoured by the black flames, so I doubt we will find any trace of their bodies.¡± she said coldly. ¡°I imagine the black dragon will now go back into a slumber from its injuries. We found traces of its black blood in many of the areas that were still unburnt.¡±


    The lead Hunter of the Sun Cherishers left us then without a single sympathizing gaze. Most likely she was coldly mourning the four dead Hunters of her tribe in her own way. Then again, she wasn¡¯t the lead Hunter for nothing. She had to show a strong front.


    But there was no need for me.


    I closed my eyes as did all my Brothers. Leaping Fox no longer with his usual grin. Brother Hidden Shade and Brother Ronat in an even deeper silence. But in a silence that was tinged with a palpable sadness.


    Devastation? I didn¡¯t know what to call that feeling that tore at my stomach, at my heart.


    Thus, we left the Sun Cherishers tribe, our feet heavy, our blade-spears heavy, but our hearts even heavier.


    We traveled slowly. And even traveling across the brightness of the Valley of Suns felt as if we were trudging through a swamp, slowly sinking. It took us twice as long to arrive at the borders and cross into the Bleary Grasslands, its scenery a reflection of our hearts themselves.


    We traveled in silence.


    In thoughts that were our own. Thoughts we did not share with each other.


    We passed by the grey greyness of the grasslands. It took us more than a week, much longer than our initial trip. I had always thought the return home is always the quickest. Turns out, that was a lie. The return home is always the hardest, and the slowest.


    When we finally arrived back at the Piercing Moon tribe, our familiar home, more than two weeks later, it was in an uproar.


    We raced to learn of what happened. Turns out, Hunter had left a letter to be discovered after a certain time.


    ¡°Well, at least we don¡¯t have to break the news anymore,¡± Leaping Fox said with a laughter. A laughter that felt as fake as the brightness of the morning sun. Why was the sun so bright these days anyway?


    In the end, Hunter had told the village of what had happened through a letter. A letter that was written in such surety of his death. He knew that he would die for his vengeance. The knowledge was as plain as the morning sun in that letter.


    In the end, his parting statement of returning had truly been a lie.


    Arkiees would no longer return.


    ========


    At night, I stood at that familiar eastern clearing where I had often trained as a child under the watchful eyes of Hunter.


    Blood traced my arm, slowly dripping down onto the ground. I looked around for quite some time, my arm still dripping blood, as if I was leaving a trail for someone to follow. Finally, I found what I was looking for.


    A pink flower with six petals. A common flower known as the Caranathus. The symbol for defiance, of strength, and of great mental changes.


    With my dripping blood, I painted the pink flower red as I knelt down onto the ground. Above me, the moon looked as if it was eavesdropping, peeking down at me, as if curious of what foolish acts I was about to do.


    I could remember the words the Ritual Master had said to me that night.


    The red heart. Of strength. Of willpower. Of passion. Of radiance.


    And of rage, powerful enough to burn the whole world if ignited.


    Something inside me was lit up then as I stood there bleeding on that Caranathus, as I stood there with a slowly forming determination.


    My vision became tinged with red. My blood simmered with rage. Fury at my own weak self, fury at not stopping Hunter, fury at the black dragon. At everything. I knew that had I tried harder, I could have stopped him. I could have convinced him.


    The anger bubbled in my blood now and the coolness of my breath in the night almost seemed warmed by it.


    My determination finally formed itself fully, manifesting itself inside my heart, my mind. I now had a goal, a motivation that could not be stopped by anything.


    I whispered softly to the night, ¡°I will destroy you, oh dragon of decay and death. I will destroy you, not at this moment, but at a later moment, for I am but a weakling still. A powerless child that knows nothing.¡±


    My whisper lowered a notch, becoming even softer. Like a small breath, unseen, unheard. ¡°I will meet you with a tempered fury that could make your flames look like a child¡¯s plaything. Then I will take that remaining eye of yours. And your life.¡±


    I do not know why I whispered these words out loud. Perhaps I was blinded with a suppressed fury. Perhaps I was devastated, an illogical fire burning in me. Or perhaps I wanted my whispers to reach the dragon. To reach the moon. To reach the stars.


    Or perhaps it was simply to reach my own foolishness.


    I did not know.


    And I didn''t cared at that moment.

 Chapter 22: Kai Bloodseeker

    Chapter 22: Kai Bloodseeker


    There is an art to killing.


    Whoever tells you that is full of shit. There is no art to killing.


    Only death and more death.


    -Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of killing


    ~Kai


    Battles! Always a bunch of skirmishes!


    I leaned down against my broadsword, chin resting on top of the pommel of the black hilt. I ignored the stifled gurgles that came from down below me. A sword stuck in the throat does wonders for your capability of speech. Your words turn into gurgles. Meaningless garbage that the living always scream out inside death¡¯s grip.


    I looked down at the result of my blade-work. It had been a quick and clean thrust to the throat, the throat of the last of the Dread warriors in that skirmish. I met his dark eyes, a veil of confusion threaded by death¡¯s own hands covering the beadlike pair.


    Like usual, the same results always happened with the dying. Near death¡¯s door, their eyes become blank, the light slowly going out in them. Like a flame in the night slowly winking out of existence, soon swallowed up by the darkness.


    And I was that darkness.


    I removed my foot from his armored chest, stepping lightly off of his corpse. Then my broadsword out from his throat. Quick and smooth. But the removal still made a wet noise, and a last gurgle from the Dread warrior.


    I held the broadsword in front of me, inspecting it here and there, then moving it back and forth, trying to make a few glints in the daylight. Despite my attempts, the broadsword still remained as dull as ever. Red on black. There was only the sheen of the fresh blood covering the tip, and the dullness of the red of the previous bloodshed.


    Xeonite metal did not shine well, even with a coating of fresh scarlet blood.


    I looked over the fields. Over half a hundred corpses of the Dread warriors looked back, some of them coiled around their mortal wounds, as if they had regressed back into their infanthood. Fecking babies, most become in a true battle.


    Skirmishes. One after another. There were no end to them.


    Each passing day, the borders between the Eastern Grasslands and the Dread Mountains became more and more of a shithole. Sure enough, the corpses would pile up and soon enough form a mountain of their own. Corpse Mountain, I would call it too. And I would plant a flag on top of that mountain, claiming it as my own.


    ¡°Kai Bloodseeker,¡± a voice called out from behind me. A gentle voice on the ears. Soft and pretty, like light shining into the darkest of places. But it didn¡¯t reach me. I was too dark for that light.


    Bloodseeker Kai, or Kai Bloodseeker. It didn¡¯t really mattered either way to me. The title was worthless to me. I turned around to meet the owner of that gentle voice. ¡°Magus Sabria.¡± I held her soft blue eyes with my own pair of eyes. Black on blue. Except my color could swallow her color whole. They were innocent eyes, not suitable in the borders here where death ran amok.


    They reminded me of my lost innocence¡ªif I ever had any in the first place.


    ¡°How was your first skirmish?¡± I asked, the lines of my mouth curving slightly. It was a smile born for many tasks. I used that smile in battles. I used it to greet others. And I used it to bid farewells, the last sort of farewell if you get what I mean. Suitable for many things, that smile was.


    She shook her head sadly, her long flowing light blue hair catching the sunlight from the movements. ¡°Painful, depressing. Saddening. I never knew it was like this.¡±


    I spread my hands out in a wide gesture, as if attempting to catch at the carrion eaters already coming for a feast. ¡°Welcome to the borders between the Eastern Grasslands and the Dread Mountains. It ain¡¯t much, but it is my home.¡±


    ¡°No one should have a home like this,¡± she said softly, her eyes looking pitifully at me.


    I didn¡¯t mind it. She could look at me in my bloodstained armor all she want. Pitifully. Happily. Sadly. However she wanted.


    Suddenly I felt a chill come over me, and I saw the pretty blue eyes of Magus Sabria widening in surprise. Quicker than even a half-taken breath, I turned around, dodging at the flash of the weapon that came slashing down at my head. Then with my one free hand, I grabbed at my opponent¡¯s slim neck, before happily smashing a knee into the stomach.


    The fallen form of my opponent clutched at her stomach, her raven colored hair in a disarray, stained with blood, and her white longsword lying beside all slanted. ¡°Heehee, I love it when you kick me like that, Commander Kai,¡± said Nuala, giggling at her own words.


    ¡°You are fecking insane, Nuala,¡± I said coldly, yet calmly. ¡°Must you attack me every damn skirmish, every damn battle? How many times have I told you to stop that shit. A thousand times already?¡±


    ¡°Heehee, but it has only been two hundred and six times, counting this time too,¡± she replied. ¡°You don¡¯t like it?¡± She gave a small pout, her blood red lips curling sadly, her golden eyes glinting with an encompassing sadness.


    ¡°Trying to gut someone in the back is not a show of love,¡± I reminded her for the umpteenth time. ¡°Anyway, stop trying to gut at me. Today¡¯s skirmish is already over.¡±


    I turned my back once more toward Nuala, knowing that she would no longer try to attack me. Once was enough for her after every battle. Still, I wonder at what had caused her to become like this? Probably my raising her.


    I laughed out loud at that thought and Magus Sabria turned her head slightly to the side, looking at me in confusion. I ignored it.


    Nuala had been a war orphan I had picked up many years ago. I forget where exactly but it was in between the borders of the Eastern Grasslands and the Dread Mountains, or the Dark Shadow Mountains if you preferred the proper term. If one wanted to die, or seek excitement, the land between those two borders was the way to do it. The land there was a vast stretch of plains, hills, and forests we collectively called the Cruorus Lands.


    Nuala had been young then, possibly only a ten year old child or so. It didn¡¯t matter to me. I never really bothered to ask about her age. I had only liked that look in her golden eyes, a darkness that would do anything for her survival. She reminded me of when I was but a child. It was probably the reason why I did not give her a quick blissful trip into death¡¯s arms, and instead wanted to raise her.


    Call it a whim, or an urge. On that whim, I raised her for ten years on the battlefields, bringing her along with me. So if I had to estimate her age, Nuala was probably over twenty years old. She also had these slightly curious patches of fur around her body. It was probably due to her belonging to one of the beast tribes.


    ¡°Commander Bloodseeker Kai,¡± a voice said from behind me. The voice belonged to a male face I did not recognize. I had too many of these faceless subordinates. Where they go and where they came from, I did not give one speck of shit. It was already hard enough to sometime remember my own lightly tanned face with its pale white hair in a reflection. White hair that was like the color of healthy bones. I didn¡¯t need any more faces to add to mine.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Reports have come in. The other squads have defeated their enemies, and most of the remaining Dread warriors are routed. Shall we give chase?¡±


    I gave a cursory glance at the surroundings. A vast plain with a few hills and a forest nearby. ¡°Don¡¯t bother chasing. We will head home now.¡±


    I sniffed at the sweat, blood, shit, and fear that always accompanied the slaughters of a battlefield. Then at myself. I needed a bath. ¡°Order the squads to file in,¡± I commanded.


    ¡°At once, Commander Bloodseeker Kai,¡± the faceless subordinate said. I really had to remember his name.


    I shrugged. Oh well, there was plenty of time to remember it later.


    Beside me, Nuala had playfully linked her arm around mine. My arm which was accoutered with a black vambrace, but no gauntlets for the hands. I liked the feel of the hilt of my broadsword and of the rectangular shield behind my back. I would not give it up for a small extra protection, which was not all that useful anyway.


    =========


    Not even a week later, I personally took care of a small skirmish, only taking with me a few warriors, ones which I bothered to remember their faces at the very least. As always, Nuala was beside me. And that Magus Sabria, who had been sent to watch over me, was also here. The reason that Magus was here was due to my rebellious and ¡°famous¡± personality. Or hospitality, I should say. The two terms both go hand in hand.


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    The enemies numbered less than a hundred, small for a skirmish. It was usually around two hundred that came from the borders of the Dread Mountains, and out the Cruorus Lands.


    But with our eight warriors, excluding that Magus Sabria, we were vastly outnumbered. Just my kind of odds. And had there been a bet, I would have spent my entire fortune and blood betting on my side.


    ¡°Commander Bloodseeker Kai, will you be taking care of them by yourself?¡± Jenna asked. She wore only a black leather armor and used a bow quite well, far better than I myself could ever accomplish. Impressive, really.


    It was why I bothered to remember her name. She was a Hunter that had come from the Demona tribe. I don¡¯t know which exactly¡ªthere were too many of these Demona tribes in the Eastern Grasslands. Eight of them, if memory serves correctly.


    ¡°No, all seven of you may join the battle while Magus Sabria watch over me like a mother hawk.¡±


    The seven warriors in my personally selected group chuckled darkly at that. All of us had experienced some troubles with hawks before. Crafty birds, they were. Vengeful too, especially if you were trying to steal some of their eggs.


    The scouts used these hawks as vision in the skies. They were invaluable tools of the trade.


    ¡°So I am a mother hawk now, eh, Commander Kai?¡± Magus Sabria said, her hands planted on her hips. She had a way of accentuating just the right words. Scary, really, if it weren¡¯t so irritating.


    I didn¡¯t answer her, only proceeding toward the enemies. Part of my charm, I suppose. That reticent silence and that coldness. A whore had complimented me on that once, though that was probably just her trying to gain some more favors from me. Favors that came in the form of coins.


    I have heard that over in the far west near the Western Highlands and the Bleary Grasslands, there are some tribes part of our Tribal Alliance that do not trade in coins. That they share everything and help one another out. Interesting, really, though I doubt any of them had probably experienced a war, had seen the dregs of morality and the epitome of vices such as greed.


    It took only a few minutes. The skirmish was over quickly. A slaughter. These Dread warriors were weaklings, the bottom of the bottom in their caste system. I could have taken all of them by myself.


    The leader of this band was also the bottom of the bottom, almost barely a rung above. The Dread leader was a female warrior. Black-skinned with two yellow eyes. Similar in form to us except for one small black horn, half a thumb¡¯s length protruding from her forehead.


    I planted a booted foot onto her stomach, then quickly disabled her, amputating one of her arms and one of her legs with one easy slice. She was only wearing a cloth armor so the amputations came clean and easy.


    The warriors of my group crowded around me, watching for any signs of threatening movements from the Dread leader. They would kill her instantly if she went for my throat. Even missing an arm and a leg, a Dread warrior was not to be underestimated. It didn¡¯t matter if the warrior was male or female. Everything was equal before the sword. Before my sword.


    ¡°Tell me, why have more and more of you been coming out of your borders?¡± I asked, no trace of inflections in my voice. It was neutral. Not coldly neutral. Not even warmly. Just simply neutral, bereft of all emotions. I had perfected that voice to an art. It made the blood in most run cold, hearing such a voice.


    ¡°Nala urh mala!¡± the Dread leader screamed out loud, pain still ringing true in her voice. I guess she was still mad at the two bleeding separated limbs beside her. They belonged to hers truly, so I suppose it was in her right to be mad at me, to curse at me.


    Fuck your mother! That was what those words had meant in her Dread language.


    ¡°Fuck your mother! KAI BLOODSEEKER!¡± she repeated again, this time in my language. She spat those words out as if they were dirty things.


    I laughed at that. ¡°Many have tried. None except my father succeeded. In the end, they are both dead and already rotting in my graves. My parents, that is.¡±


    I feigned a pleased look on my face. ¡°Still, I am honored that you Dreads bothered to learn my language, and even my name. I guess those prisoners you took were useful after all. I am, however, surprised that my name has spread that far. You do me a great honor, Dread.¡±


    I moved my broadsword, letting the blade hover precariously over her throat. ¡°Ish nala urh hamala.¡± I said, my voice still neutral. In the Dread language, a raspy brutish language with strange rhymes, I had replied back, ¡°I fuck your grandmother.¡±


    In the borders between the Dread Mountains and the Eastern Grasslands, you pick up many lessons, a few of which include knowledge of your foes¡¯ language. Specifically in the area of cursing. After many years, I now had a smattering of languages and various other curses that could make a grown warrior¡¯s balls shrivel.


    I inspected her yellow eyes. They looked determined to fuck my mother. I guess she wouldn¡¯t be answering my question anytime soon. With that knowledge gained, I simply walked away, taking my bloodstained boot off of her cloth armored chest.


    I waved a hand behind me, then ignored the resulting screams and curses in the Dread language. One of my seven handpicked warriors had killed her. Not too cleanly too from the way she had died screaming. I needed to teach them better.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you think that was too cruel?¡± Magus Sabria firmly asked. I could see her face going slightly pale. Some are just not suited for pain, blood, and torture, I suppose.


    ¡°Battles are cruel.¡±


    ¡°Stop using such misdirection. You know that I meant the amputation of her limbs. You needn¡¯t have gone so far. That was just petty cruelty.¡±


    I stopped at that. Those last words rang inside my mind, resonating with a part of me that had been buried. My eyes raked over the form of Magus Sabria once more, reevaluating her. Not bad. She had some determination of her own.


    ¡°You know nothing of my world,¡± I said softly. ¡°Of the blood I have waddled through. Of the corpses of the Dreads, innocent lives, and many other lives I have stacked into a heap. A heap big enough to form a small mountain of its own. You know nothing, Magus Sabria.¡±


    ¡°And petty cruelty is the least of it.¡± I walked away slowly, not waiting for her answer.


    Instead of her answer, I needed some answers of my own soon. There was an unorderly chaos going on in the Cruorus Lands, and in the Dread Mountains beyond. I could feel it in my bones. A feeling that was usually always correct.


    Damn. I really needed some answers. There were simply too many skirmishes from the Dreads nowadays. Barely a week had passed in between the last one and the previous ones. Simply too frequently for my taste.


    It added an unorderly chaos to the already chaotic Cruorus Lands. I liked the usual chaos of the Cruorus Lands better. At least then, there was a semblance of order.


    Perhaps the Dreads were having some rebellions in their caste system. Or perhaps something more was going on. Perhaps they were fleeing from something?


    I needed some clues, and as the commander of the Third Frontal Fortress that guarded the borders of the Eastern Grasslands, I would have to get them soon, or else I would be the one in trouble first.


    And as always, beside me, Nuala had caught up, her slim bloodstained arm linked around mine.


    ¡°That was fun,¡± she said cheerfully.


    I didn¡¯t know what fun she was talking about. The skirmish itself, the death of the Dread leader, or the conversation I just had.


    ¡°Yes, it was,¡± I said.


    Sometimes, a yes works quite well to ambiguity. And a no, though I have found a yes to work better most of the times in my experience.


    <><><><><><


    AN NOTE: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, though somewhat dark and bloody, I suppose. But blood and darkness will always accompany this  sub-main character.

 Chapter 23: A Clue to the Answers (Kai)

    Chapter 23: A Clue to the Answers (Kai)


    ~Kai


    Lives are valuable commodities.


    And more often than not, I trade in it, even more than coins or the black of Xeonite metal.


    There are different prices attached to these commodities¡ª


    Mine worth the most of all.


    -Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of commodities and self-worth


    ¡°Rise and shine, oh Dreaded warriors!¡± I said cheerfully toward the eleven Dreads tied onto the posts. They stood as still as scarecrows in the courtyards of the Third Frontal Fortress. But I wouldn¡¯t have expected any movements from them. A few days of torturing does wonders for your will to live. Well, mostly because I had also starved them and bound them with Grasteon chains.


    Dying from hunger is one of the worst ways to go. Give me a sword in one hand and another sword straight through the heart. That is the easiest way to go. Some might object to my idea of what is the easiest death, but they know not what they say.


    I gestured a hand at Nuala, waving at her to go ahead. Smiling like a child given permission to go outside to play, she took the bucket of water in her hands, throwing it onto a Dread in the middle.


    Bucket and all, she threw it. After smashing onto his face, the bucket clanged onto the stone courtyards noisily.


    I frowned at that. ¡°Just the water, Nuala. Not the bloody bucket also. Have some sense just because I don¡¯t specify myself.¡±


    She stuck her tongue out at me like a small child would do to her parent. I sighed at that. There was no fixing her.


    I nodded at my seven handpicked warriors, excluding Nuala¡ªshe was like my right hand, always with me wherever I went. With my permission given, the seven warriors each threw their own bucket of water onto each of the bound Dreads.


    Bucket and all, the seven warriors had all thrown, following Nuala¡¯s example. I narrowed my eyes at that. Just slightly, for I didn¡¯t want them to think that I would kill them all for that small act. It was one of the benefits of becoming one of my seven handpicked warriors, the seven Bloodguards they called themselves.


    You could be quite rowdy and I wouldn¡¯t give a care. The greatest benefit, however, was that I remembered your name. Well, I suppose another benefit would be that you were less liable to get killed out here, though I think the former benefit is much better. Recognition from me was as rare as falling in love¡ª


    It would never truly happen, but you could get a small taste of it at least.


    When I saw that some of the Dreads had been roused from their forced sleep, I moved toward the middle one, the Dread tied in the middle position of the eleven posts. Each step that brought me closer to the bound Dread warriors, the smell of shit, blood, and rot assaulted my nose ever the more strongly.


    The Dread tied in the middle post was the leader of this group. His appearance denoted him to be at the lower end of the caste system that was inherent in the Dreads. With his three horns lined up singly on his forehead, the Dread was just two ranks above the Hornless.


    Up close now, I could smell the acrid wounds on his fully naked body. I sniffed, turning my back toward the bound Dread. I wasn¡¯t worried I would be attacked from behind. They were bound with blue Grasteon chains enhanced by runic markings. It would take an impossible feat to break out of all those chains bound around his joints and chest.


    To intimidate, to horrify, you have to move slowly. You have to make every movement count. A slow moving blade that inches across your throat is far more sickening than a hasty blade. Actions, also, speak far more than words.


    I waved a hand at Jenna, who had her bow strung behind her back as usual. She nodded, bringing me a wooden chair. I thanked her and she returned back to her position. Ah, reliable Jenna. She knew exactly what I was thinking.


    The chair was finely carved and made out of Strong-Heart wood. On the seat, there was a soft blue cushion, the insides of it made of feathers from a short-tailed redbird. A rare kind of bird with feathers that were widely exclaimed for their softness and beauty. I didn¡¯t know why it was made into a cushion; you couldn¡¯t exactly admire the feathers with a cushion cover blocking the view.


    The action of bringing that chair spoke loudly to the blurry eyed three-horned Dread¡ªI can sit here comfortably for many, many days, even years if you prefer. And I will keep you alive, torturing you every second, every minute, and every hour for the rest of your unnatural life. At least, until you give me what I want.


    It was that kind of action. See? Actions do speak louder than words, oftentimes. Though don¡¯t take my word for it.


    Leaning easily onto the back of the chair, my butt planted firmly onto the cushion of the seat, I slowly crossed a leg over the other. Then I made sure the strap of my broadsword strung behind my back was in a comfortable position. ¡°A fine morning, is it not, my friend?¡± I decided to start out my interrogation easy.


    I had captured these eleven Dreads two months later after my scouts had obtained no leads with their investigations and in their questioning of the wild beast tribes living in the Cruorus Lands. The scouts probably had not gone deeper enough into the Cruorus Lands. After all, the beast tribes living near the Eastern Grasslands were not exactly known for their overflowing font of knowledge.


    In addition, my communications with the other four Commanders of the Frontal Fortresses had led to nowhere. They were undergoing their own investigations and had obtained no clues as to the sudden increase in the skirmishes with the Dreads.


    Instead of returning my greeting kindly, the three-horned Dread spat at me. It was a useless attempt. A few days of starvation can do that to one. A dry throat, a dry mouth, and no spittle will come out. Only blood.


    But I had made sure not to injure the mouth and the throat. Wouldn¡¯t want them mute after all and spitting blood at me all the time.


    I twitched a small smile. I had to admit, even the lowest Dread warriors in their caste system were hardy bastards. They didn¡¯t break easily.


    A shame how quickly an easy interrogation turns difficult in the blink of an eye. Or in this case, in the blink of a spit.


    Then again, I suppose that made it all the more pleasurable to good ol¡¯ Kass. Short for Kassina, she was one of the seven Bloodguards. I called out to her.


    ¡°Could you stand by me, Kass?¡± I said, my eyes meeting her short form. Other than me, she didn¡¯t allow anyone else to shorten her name like that. The shortened name somehow just rubs her the wrong way. A rubbing that was liable to earn a dagger through your eye.


    One of my subordinates had called her Kass once, mimicking after me. And the next day, he had woken up with a dagger in his eye, screaming for his mother. Dangerous and a mean little thing Kass was. To quell that incident, I had to pay a hefty compensation and dismiss that subordinate after rushing him to a healer.


    In my experience, the worst kind of subordinates or warriors were the ones that did not have any discipline. And Kass was the worst kind. But I didn¡¯t keep her around because she was a good warrior. I kept her around due to her talent in inflicting pain. Torture, if you know what I mean. Not to mention she was also cunning, and with a tongue slick enough to raise a dead person to life.


    Hearing my call, Kass sauntered over to my side, humming a small tune. I forgave her for that small delay. Kass held a soft spot in my heart. But that was probably because it would be a pain to find another one that was as cunning or as excellent in torturing as she was. A personal torturer was hard to come by.


    Standing beside me, Kass barely came up to my sitting height. Indeed, a small little thing, possibly shy of five and a half feet tall. I smiled at her with my special smile.


    She froze, and underneath her messy, dirty blonde hair with bangs that almost covered her eyes, she looked a tad nervous. I didn¡¯t blame her.


    My smile could have spoken of anything. Displeasure. Happiness. Satisfaction. Approval. Disapproval. And my displeasure or disapproval was liable to get one killed faster than an overextend trip into the heart of the Cruorus Lands.


    Like Nuala, I had picked up Kass somewhere near the heart of the Cruorus Lands. She had been both a slave warrior and a ¡°slave lady of the evening¡± in the Rokka tribe, one of the wild beast tribes. The beast tribes were not part of the Tribal Alliance. They were seen as little more than animals despite the fact that most of them looked similar in form to us.


    Part of the Wolf tribe, or whatever they called themselves in their language, Kass had these wolven ears and tail. Her eyes were of deep midnight, a pointed button nose, and a set of lips that could easily make a bloodcurdling smile.


    ¡°What is it, commander,¡± she said, husky and all seductive like. Evidentially, her time as a lady of the evening had not been wasted.


    ¡°It seems our guest is quite tightlipped but still able to spit. Could you be a dear and persuade him for a few sips? I wouldn¡¯t like to be known as inhospitable, after all.¡±


    I watched as Kass worked her magic. She simply walked up to the three-horned Dread and a whimper escaped from him. There was also a fear in his beady dark eyes, as they flittered left and right.


    I chuckled darkly to myself. Kass had worked some exquisite magic the last few days upon these Dreads. I could smell the fear from the eleven Dreads. Well, the ones that were conscious anyway. The fear also could have just been the rot and shit settling on them. It was sometimes hard to differentiate between the smell of fear, shit, and rot. One just get so¡­so used to them combining into one atrocious smell.


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    Her right hand straightened into a flat palm, it soon became a blur of motion as she jumped up and chopped down at his face. Landing back down onto the ground with immaculate grace reserved only for a skilled fighter, her right hand was balled into a fist. Slowly unclenching her right hand, three small black horns fell down beside the post.


    ¡°I have been saving this torture for tonight, but it seems you desire it now, my lovely guest,¡± Kassina whispered softly to his legs.


    Had Kass been taller and the Dread not tied up so high onto the post, she would have certainly whispered into his ears, and not to his legs. But sadly, some things were just impossible. And a taller height for Kass was impossible.


    None of the Bloodguards or the warriors milling around the courtyards dared pointed this fact out though. That would have been asking for a free dagger through their eyes.


    ¡°Would you like some high heeled boots, dear Kass?¡± I asked, an amused smile on my face. Not at Kass, but at the Dread.


    The previous three horned Dread was now hornless. His face was priceless, a mix of outrage and fear. Among the horned Dreads, the number of horns proved for a stronger position in the caste system. Thus, their horns were their pride, especially for those higher in the caste system.


    Cutting the horns off was cutting both their pride and position. Like me, Kass had found a precious insight into the nature of people. To truly break a person, you do not break his body but his spirit, the stuff that makes him a person. That said, break a body enough and the spirit will naturally follow along.


    ¡°Did you know, my dear guest, there are many ways to break a Dread,¡± Kass said, all slow-like. She had ignored my question, but I let it go. Words are the easiest to forgive. At least it was for me.


    Kass let out a pure laughter. At least, it seemed pure to the others. She couldn¡¯t deceive my ears though. I knew that her laughter was a fake one. There was no real joy in it. ¡°Oh right, I had almost forgotten that you have already enjoyed some of my ways the last few days.¡±


    She grew the nail of her forefinger longer. Slowly and slowly, longer and longer, the nail grew until it was about as long as her forefinger. Kass was about to give a show, a show which she had been practicing since she could walk.


    Her nail softly tracing the left leg of the Dread, she continued moving it upward and upward until it hovered precariously at his crotch.


    ¡°Fuck you, bitch,¡± the Dread whispered, his voice hoarse. He would have shouted if he could but a dry and injured throat can only make so much noise.


    As if she had not heard his curses, Kass stabbed her nail into his crotch slowly. Half an inch, the nail sunk down slowly. Stopped. It continued digging further. Another half an inch. Stopped. Then another, and another.


    His screams lit up the courtyards, energizing the lethargic morning. It looks like I had been wrong, after all. A dry and injured throat can still make much noise.


    At the loud screeching of the Dread, the heads of the nearby warriors at the other courtyards turned toward the screaming. I met their curious gazes with my own stare. The warriors quickly lowered their heads and returned back to their drilling.


    Discipline, my friends, goes a long way. And practice makes perfect.


    The warriors would thank me later on. Practicing your discipline, especially under the screams of the Dreads and the smell of shit, piss, rot, and sweat wafting over, was undoubtedly good practice. It was how I had learned my discipline.


    The screaming continued for close to an hour and I had a front seat view of it all. I was quite surprised halfway through the spectacle. It seemed to me that Kass had improved her techniques. Pretty soon, she would be a match for me.


    My eyes moved toward the other Dreads tied onto the posts, meeting each and every pair of eyes. They were now all awake. The screams of their leader, no doubt, helped quite a bit in their wake up calls.


    I made an exaggerated yawn. Well, perhaps not so exaggerated in truth, for I had been up all night waiting for reports from the scouts.


    Ignoring the screaming¡ªone can take amusement from pain only a short while before boredom starts to set in¡ªI thought upon the movements of the Dreads.


    For as long as I could remember, there had been a stalemate between the Dreads and the Tribal Alliance, extending into the second century already. With a few exceptions, there had only been the occasional skirmishes in the Cruorus Lands. Nothing too extreme. Many deaths on their side and a few deaths on our side.


    Guarding the borders of the Eastern Grasslands were five Frontal Fortresses with one Commander in each. There were also many other smaller forts with their own Imperators. Then there was the Central Fortress with its High Commander.


    Multiple reports had been coming from the smaller forts that there were more and more skirmishes. Likewise, I had been seeing many other small bands of Dreads crossing the Cruorus Lands. Stupid of these Dreads. Suicidal, in fact. Their small attacks did nothing but dye my hands red with more of their blood. We had barely lost anyone to these small attacks.


    There was a relief to my ears now. The screaming had become half-crying, half-sobs. His throat must have also been parched and raw from the constant shouting. I could barely hear his cries now.


    ¡°Stop!¡± the hornless Dread said, choking on that word. Previously, he had already been mangling the common language of the Tribal Alliance, and now he was mutilating the language. So much so that I wouldn¡¯t have been able to recognize that word, had I not heard it so many times when I set my hands to torturing.


    I held out a hand to stop Kass from torturing the Dread any longer. Already a sorry figure, he looked even more pitiful now. Flakes of dry blood covered his naked body, and fresh blood, still wet from their wounds, dripped down onto the courtyards, a small trace of it even running toward the legs of the chair I sat upon.


    ¡°Kill me, please,¡± the Dread begged, half-sobs and such. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything.¡±


    I motioned for Kass to continue, and she nodded, making a move toward the Dread again.


    ¡°No, no. I will tell you,¡± he whimpered, his eyes always fixed upon those sharp, sharp nails of Kassina. ¡°We were there to escape from our Lord! There¡¯s a war going on in the border territories!¡±


    The Dread wasn¡¯t particularly well-versed in the common language of the Tribal Alliance, and with the added benefit of his injured throat, most of the words were almost senseless garbage. Luckily, I knew the Dreads language quite well.


    I smiled at that. You can learn many things from a torture chamber, though a language learned from someone under such duress is¡­difficult, to say the least. In their agonies, they can even mangle some of the pronunciation of the words in their natural language.


    ¡°You see, that wasn¡¯t too bad now, was it?¡± I didn¡¯t expect an answer to my question, but the Dread still answered. Some people¡ªthey simply have not one jot of clue. It¡¯s why they die so quickly.


    Standing up, I walked over to the Dread. Then I pressed my right palm onto his chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, my fingers dug deeply into his flesh. Just the right amount of force for it to be painful, but not enough to make him bleed.


    A few seconds passed by as the Dread sobbed some more, his eyes looking down at me in confusion.


    I gave him some mercy then. The fingers of my hand furled and dug deeply into his chest, then past his sternum. In a single instant, I ripped out his heart. The pinkish organ covered by arterial blood thumped a few more times, as if it was still alive, as if it knew its purpose still. With death, there was no more purpose.


    A final scream, a final thump. A shame the two didn¡¯t coincide at the end.


    My hand bloodied, I threw the heart away. It landed close to the post of the nearby bound Dread, who would have flinched away if he could. From the corners of my eyes, I could see Nuala almost salivating at my actions. Crazy child.


    ¡°Kill them all,¡± I said to my seven Bloodguards. Then I slowly walked away, never once looking back, but not before leaving a parting remark. "Oh right, don''t forget to wash those nails of yours, Kass."


    Normally, I wouldn¡¯t have personally ended the Dread¡¯s life. But almost an hour of time had been wasted on him. Time that could have been spent elsewhere. Like sleep, for example. Ah, sleep, a most precious thing. It came to me even easier than killing.


    My mind swirling with thoughts, I headed back inside the Fortress, a gigantic structure built by many of the tribal Magus and Builders working together. All the while, I hummed a nameless tune from my Incretio tribe, a thing I had left far behind in the dusty childhood memories of my past.


    My pondering ended.


    All my thoughts led to one conclusion¡ª


    It was time to pay a visit to the Dread borders, and along the way, perhaps a few of the beast tribes living near there.


    Yes, it was time to pay a personal visit from yours truly, Kai Bloodseeker, the only remaining survivor of the Incretio tribe.


    <><><><><>


    AN NOTE:  Yahello, it''s me, author guy again.


    Every chapter that has been marked with  "(Kai)" will be from the perspective of Kai Bloodseeker.  For now, there are a few more chapters to go before the perspective changes.

 Map

    WARNING: There can be spoilers of some possible places.  And this map is just crudely drawn, and not even finished.


    It is not UP TO SCALE!


    FOR A LARGER LOOK, CLICK ON THE LINK.


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 Chapter 24: Darling Nox (Kai)

    Chapter 24: Darling Nox (Kai)


    Females.


    They are¡­


    Females.


    And dies just as well as males.


    What? I don¡¯t have many insights about them. Weapons, however, I do.


    -Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of females


    ~Kai


    After the interrogation, it took the whole of the afternoon and night to finish the preparations for my leave of absence. An army without its head is, well, simply like a headless beast slowly dying. Luckily, I had multiple spare heads.


    In my absence, I would leave command to the second oldest of my Bloodguards and the one who had known me the longest. If I had to call someone my best friend, it would be him. Mature, responsible, and with a role as my acting conscious, it would be Bane. Contrary to his eight feet tall green-skinned appearance, he was quite intelligent and was a second opinion for me.


    Leaving him in temporary command of the Third Frontal Fortress would leave me feeling assured. But just in case of unforeseen troubles, I made another three of the Bloodguards stay behind with him.


    The next cockcrow, under the light of the morn, I stood inside the wyvern roost, patting the scaly body of my mount.


    Wyverns are captivating creatures. They are similar to dragons, only much smaller in both size and strength. In the air, it is an unparalleled beast losing only to a few exceptions which can be counted with two hands.


    What differentiates them from dragons are their diversity. Multiple heads, multiple wings, assortments of scales and skins, and various other body parts¡ªthey come in all sizes, numbers, and shapes. In my opinion, they made for far greater mounts than Vulcans.


    And my wyvern?


    She was a black scaled leathery beauty, a darling to the eyes. A cute upturned nose with two big nostrils, two pale waxen horns, a spiked tail, and a row of inner and outer fangs all made for an exquisite appearance. Her body was beautifully proportioned with two upper limbs and two lower limbs. But the most alluring feature of all were her glittering ruby eyes.


    Stroking her lower nape, I whispered softly to her sensitive pointed ears, ¡°Did you miss me, Nox?¡±


    Her long neck wrapped around my shoulders once before she positioned her face directly in front of mine. Her warm breath fell upon me, tickling my face. She crooned softly, a deep purring that traveled across her neck, making a soft trembling sensation around me. Her tongue lashed out at my cheeks softly.


    Even softly, a wyvern tongue can strip the flesh easily in a mere second. It was a good thing my skin was resistant with a natural born Hardening ability, else my cheeks would have long been devoid of any flesh.


    Releasing her long neck around me, Nox stretched her wings, conveying her eagerness even more. And a pout went across her face, a gesture which I always found delightful. Although rather than a pout, it was more of a bloodcurdling show of her fangs.


    ¡°Not to worry, Nox. We have plenty of time to stretch your wings. A few weeks, in fact.¡± The estimation sounded about right. A month was plenty of time to cut across the Cruorus Lands and into the Dread borders for a small visit. Especially on a flying mount.


    A few minutes passed by as I affixed a saddle onto Nox, making sure the straps were comfortably snug around her belly. To the sides of the saddle, I hung a few packs filled with necessities.


    Two decades had already passed by since I required the use of reins while riding Nox. We were both already familiar with each other intentions. Soaring through the skies, we were both simply one individual with two heads.


    To the sides of the saddle, there were spots where I could hung my sheathed broadsword and shield. Both of the equipment were made out of Xeonite metal, the strongest metal known to the Tribal Alliance. It was resistant to both physical and magical attacks. The only drawback to the metal was that it was almost impossible to carve runic markings onto it. The only way to overcome such a problem was to mix the Xeonite with an alloy metal that could allow for conduction through the runic markings.


    But with such a solution, there also came a set of problems. The mix of metals would make it less resistant and less durable. The advantages of runic markings, however, could sometime overcome the problems of the alloy metal through very rare materials and proficient Runic Enhancements.


    As such, the black rectangular shield I wore was of an alloy making. Flexit metal to block the non-Volatile Essences such as light, nature, and earth, then the polar Reflexit metal to block the Volatile Essences such as fire, lightning, and wind. The two metals were polar opposite and was rarely found in nature. It had taken many favors and compensation to gain them.


    And a few more favors for the top Magus Runemasters to engrave the markings I desired onto the shield. Having spent such wealth and time on the shield, vanity had struck me unexpectedly in my time of weakness. What was a little more wealth? Thus, I had carved an insignia of a red wyvern onto the front of the shield.


    Having finished the preparations, I headed outside onto the courtyards with Nox following me along, waddling on her two lower limbs.


    Though I called the building I had left behind the wyvern roost, there was only one wyvern in the entire Third Frontal Fortress. The rest of the flying mounts were all Vulcans and various other lesser creatures.


    Wyverns could not be tamed except for under special conditions. Even if one stole the eggs from under the watchful eyes of the mother wyvern, there was still a major risk of the imprinting not occurring.


    In the Third Frontal Fortress, there are a total of thirty courtyards, most of them reserved for drilling and practicing. I met Nuala and the three Bloodguards that would follow me along on the trip. They greeted me with a wave of their free hands, the other hand holding onto the reins fixed around their Vulcans.


    There were various reasons I would bring these four with me on my investigation.


    Nuala, simply because she was like my right hand. And I didn¡¯t trust her to stay on her best behavior when I was gone. If I left her behind, I would come back to find myself a stack of bodies to clean up.


    Kassina, for she knew the various languages of the wild beast tribes and had quick wits that could slip us through most situations. And who knew, perhaps we might even have to use some of her gentle persuasion.


    Jenna, for her scouting abilities and expert bow-hand. Her Demona Hunter abilities, Hawk Eyes and Precision, would come in handy in the Cruorus Lands and within the Dread borders.


    Zan, because he was an Earth and Darkness Magus convenient to have around in unexpected situations. Full of rare knowledge and magic, I would have loved to pick his brains thoroughly. He was a grey skinned hommid, a term the Tribal Alliance uses to group the two-legged together. Two limbs to walk upright, two limbs for arms, and of course, having enough intelligence; those were the conditions to be a hommid, though there were always discrimination against the wild beast tribes, and of course, against the Dreads.


    With his bone white beard that covered half of his face and eyebrows that drooped down to almost his cheeks, he was the oldest of the Bloodguards. And though he was getting on in his age, his body was still stocky with muscles. His appearance wasn¡¯t anything striking. I could have found plenty of lookalikes in the Greynat tribes.


    Thinking of his age had made me curious.


    ¡°How old are you again, Zan?¡± I asked.


    ¡°A hundred and twenty two years old, Commander,¡± he said, all gruffly and deep-like. ¡°Last month was my name day.¡±


    I capped an arm around his broad shoulders dressed by a thick plain black robe. ¡°You should¡¯ve told me, old friend. I would have given you a few congratulatory gifts.¡±


    He shook his stubby neck, his white beard swaying along with the motion. Fascinating stuff, his beard was. One could have hidden multiple daggers inside the hairs. ¡°It is not right for an elder to gift his younger,¡± he said quietly but deeply.


    I smiled at that, though in truth, my smile was a frown. I didn¡¯t like to be reminded of my age. Not even by myself.  My age remained a secret alone to only me. Everyone who knew of my exact age was long dead already, by my own hands or by my own indirect hands. It was the same to me. Directly, indirectly; all me in the end.


    Half a breath. Discipline, I reminded myself. Discipline.


    Jenna, perhaps suspecting of my displeasure, interrupted us. ¡°Shall we head out now, Commander Kai?¡±


    I turned toward her, meeting her look. She didn¡¯t flinch, so I smiled. ¡°Sure, let us head out.¡±


    As each of us climbed up onto our mounts, a familiar figure came running toward us, her bosom bouncing softly from the sprinting. I drolly watched her run across with haste, her breaths coming faster and faster each step. A good set of tits bouncing is always a high form of entertainment in my list.


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    ¡°Stop! I am coming with you,¡± Magus Sabria shouted across from the courtyards.


    Nuala scowled at me, her mouth twisting into displeasure. It was obvious that she disliked Magus Sabria. As for the three Bloodguards, they awaited patiently for my instructions.


    To run across a courtyard would take more than a few seconds, especially for one with her kind of fitness¡ªMagus are usually physically unfit compared to the warriors. So I had some time to collect my thoughts.


    Supposedly, if I did not bring the Magus with me, she would tattle to the Tribal Alliance Councils, of which there were forty-two recognized seats with the recent additions. However, it was more like thirty-three seats with nine of the recognized tribes in the far west choosing isolation. Of these forty-two seats, I held one of them being the only sole member of the Incretio tribe.


    For a few years now, the Tribal Alliance Councils had been an annoying flesh wound, always dogging my trails, watching over me lest I become too rowdy. They were all so wary of my famous hospitality.


    I weighed the annoyances of the nagging I would receive from Magus Sabria against the future annoyances of the Councils if she tattled on me. It came close, but in the end, the Councils won out.


    ¡°We will bring her along with us.¡± I decided.


    ¡°Just great. Real fecking great,¡± Nuala muttered. ¡°I should just stab her little mouth. Bleed her red with blood, dance and then piss on her corpse.¡±


    Ignoring the muttered death threats from Nuala, I watched as Magus Sabria stopped short just before my wyvern.


    Now that she had a closer look at the mount, a stupefaction came over as if she had been slapped hard by a palmed hand. Or perhaps it was because she was out of breath. ¡°Why,¡± she said, stopping to catch another breath, ¡°do you,¡± another breath, ¡°have to make this trip yourself? And why didn¡¯t you wait for me?¡±


    ¡°Your accusations are like arrows to the heart, Magus Sabria,¡± I said nonchalantly. ¡°I was merely waiting for you here.¡±


    ¡°How was your sleep?¡± Nuala butted in.


    A blush dyed her already red cheeks into a deeper red. Being of the Elva race, and quite fair-skinned if a bit tanned, blushing was easily noticeable on her. It suited her too. Gave a little color to her cheeks in my humble opinion. ¡°Fine, thank you,¡± she said, voice sharp as blade. ¡°How was yours, child?¡±


    A growl escaped from the depths of her throat at that. What Nuala hated most was being called a child. And though she was full grown, she still gave off a childish appearance, especially with her too slim figure and an uncomfortable fascination with the size of her breasts. Too small, she thought of them.


    Stroking the dagger that had appeared out of nowhere in her right hand, Nuala shot a glare at her. ¡°Much better than yours, thank you.¡±


    For a minute or two, the two of them tried to drown each other in their voices, arguing back and forth.


    I tried not to laugh at that. Over the past month, the two of them had bonded with each other quite well.


    A quick hand reaching underneath her sleeves.


    ¡°Nuala,¡± I said calmly. ¡°What did I tell you about using those needles?¡±


    A sorry look crossed her face, and she removed her hand from underneath her sleeves. Lowering her head, she muttered, ¡°Don¡¯t use them against friends, only against enemies.¡±


    I arched a brow. ¡°And?¡±


    She let out a sigh. ¡°And don¡¯t use them to kill Magus Sabria even though she is an enemy, for she is a pain in the ass. But if you really want to kill her, make sure not to leave any traces, especially traces that would lead back to the Commander.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Good, make not to forget about that.¡±


    ¡°What? Did you really taught her that?¡± Magus Sabria looked outraged by the blatant confession.


    ¡°Of course not? Do you really think that I, as the prestigious Commander of the Third Frontal Fortress, would stoop so low as to killing you?¡± I said, my face all shocked-like. ¡°Furthermore, an accusation without any evidence can have disastrous results.¡±


    For a moment she stuttered and looked as blank as a lazy cloud. ¡°But they heard it,¡± she said, waving a hand at the three Bloodguards.


    ¡°All I heard was the wind,¡± Kass said coolly.


    Jenna shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡±


    Zan merely stroked his flowing beard. ¡°My hearing is just not as it used to be. And lately, it has been trying at best.¡±


    Magus Sabria glowered darkly at me, her face all thunderous as if she was imagining her dainty hands around my pretty neck.


    I pretended not to see her anger. ¡°Who would you like to ride with on our trip, Magus Sabria,¡± I said, injecting a comfortable warmth into my voice.


    She inspected me with suspicion on her face before a decision came over her. ¡°I will ride with you, Commander Kai.¡± Most likely, she was afraid to let me out of her sight for even a second as if I would bolt away if not under her watch. Or perhaps she was simply fascinated with the wyvern.


    ¡°Climb aboard then.¡±


    As she made to move, a thunderous noise exploded in front of her as a huge scaly tail slammed onto the ground. Startled by the explosion of wind and dust, Magus Sabria fell backward onto her bottom.


    I scratched at her upper nape, a place she always loved for me to scratch at. ¡°Now, now, my darling Nox. How many times have I told you not to accidentally crush someone with your tail?¡±


    I looked down at the fallen Magus Sabria. ¡°My apologies, Magus Sabria. I forgot to warn you about my darling Nox¡¯s violet tendencies. She becomes entirely far too jealous if a female draws close too close to me while I am riding her.¡±


    Moving a hand, I scratched further above, just below her pointed ears. Nox let out a deep throaty purr of a noise at that. ¡°I am afraid you will have to ride with someone else.¡±


    Picking herself up, Magus Sabria smoothed out the folds of her breeches, then at her sleeved shirt over which she wore a leather armor that covered her stomach. ¡°Must you be this childish, Commander Kai?¡± Her teeth gritted, her jaws were set hard, a look of withheld irritation upon her.


    ¡°You are right. I am being a mean bastard this morning,¡± I apologized, letting sincerity paint my words. ¡°It must be the lack of sleep getting to me.¡±


    She didn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Commander Saria did tell me that you would be too much of a task for me to handle alone, that I couldn¡¯t change your ways or make you attend the Alliance meetings. I didn¡¯t believe her then, but after more than a month of watching you, I am inclined to change my opinion.¡± She paused, waiting for me to say something.


    I didn¡¯t.


    ¡°Well, let me tell you something, Commander Kai Bloodseeker. Once I accept a task, I will see it through to the bitter end. And if determination alone does not get the job done, then I will give even more determination. I will give enough determination until the whole Eastern Grasslands drown in it, until the whole world drowns in it. I will hound you until the ends of the world if must be.¡±


    Nox let out a snarl at her tone. I patted her neck reassuringly.


    ¡°I must say,¡± I started, ¡°this is the first time someone has ever come on so strongly to me. Not even my enemies were this determined.¡±


    She had the decency to blush at that.


    Then I laughed. I laughed loud and hard. It was a true laughter. ¡°I always welcome a challenge, Sabria¡ªmay I call you that?¡±


    She nodded as if to say do as you like.


    ¡°A word of advice though, Sabria." I let the nuances of her name roll around my tongue. "To change my ways, you must first step one foot into my world. But step that one foot into my world and you will drown in an ocean of blood, and not even a lifetime of love, prayers, or determination can save you then.¡±


    Nox made an impatient growl, her tail in a frenzy and her wings itching to fly. ¡°Let¡¯s head for the Cruorus Lands now, my darling Nox.¡±


    Halfway before I finished my sentence, Nox was already more than twenty feet above the ground and ascending toward the skies faster and faster. A moment later, we burst through a low layer of clouds.


    The warriors milling in the courtyards of the Third Frontal Fortress were now like tiny dots. Behind me, there was the vast expanse of the Eastern Grasslands whose fields shot off endlessly. And in front, there was the sudden change into the Cruorus Lands, a maze of forests within forests, home to the wild beast tribes and other mysterious landmarks.


    And of course, also home to the Lady of the Forest, a goddess worshipped by some of the wild beast tribes. But that was just a mere superstition of course.


    Still, if there was truly a goddess living in the Cruorus Lands, how exciting would life be? I would love to challenge such a being to a duel.


    Smiling at my own conceit, I patted her scaly sides. ¡°Where would I be without you, Nox?¡±


    ¡°Certainly not in the air,¡± I answered myself.


    Nox snorted as if she had understood my poor attempt at humor. Ah, darling Nox.


    <><><><><>

 Chapter 25: Golden Ears and White Reaper (Kai)

    Chapter 25: Golden Ears and White Reaper (Kai)


    ~Kai


    The Cruorus Lands are filled with many confusions and mysteries.


    Not to mention the fact that there are so many different wild beast tribes that I would have to take off my boots and continue counting using my toes.


    And when finished, I would have to take off Nuala¡¯s boots, also counting her toes.


    Of course, there are not only the beast tribes. There are also other, say, less delectable tribes.


    -Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of the Cruorus Lands


    It took two weeks of hard traveling before I spotted the landmark I wanted, a jutting black pillar that extended upward into the air for thousands of feet to see. It stretched up high, twice as tall as even the tallest trees in the Cruorus Lands.


    And what would have taken only a week of traveling to reach that landmark had been extended into two weeks. It wasn¡¯t anyone¡¯s fault.


    If I had to lay blame, the Cruorus Lands would have been my target. There were many similar landmarks, confusing you further. The place was a sprawling maze of forests whose sole purpose was to deceive you, devour you inside its heart so that none could ever leave again.


    In the invasion of the Dreads three centuries ago, they had lost many a soldiers to the Cruorus Lands. Not to mention the ambushes from the wild beast tribes. It was a shame that they didn¡¯t factor that into their plans, or else they would have certainly spent more time breeding flying mounts.


    The delay and deaths from traveling across the Cruorus Lands had gone a long way to help form the Tribal Alliance and set up a united defense.


    Ever since their first invasion had resulted in a failure, the Dreads tried harder and harder. A second invasion, a third invasion. By the time the third attempt had failed, it had become a stalemate with the Cruorus Lands stuck between the two borders. Now, there were only the occasional skirmishes from the remnants of the Dread armies.


    Riding on Nox and the others on their Vulcans, we circled around the landmark before landing at a suitable place nearby. Up close, the black pillar loomed largely, casting a shadow over even the tallest of trees. It would have taken a minute to even circle around the base of the black pillar. They were made out of a mysterious metal, but was plain to look at.


    The wild beast tribes called these landmarks ¡°Vrisalus,¡± in their many languages. Simply put, these pillars were havens, safe from the beasts and unknown monsters that lived in the Cruorus Lands.


    ¡°What are we doing here, Commander Kai?¡± Jenna asked, a hand gripping the lower limb of her white bow. I could feel a tension from her. She looked expectant,  as if ready for any sudden situations.


    ¡°Ah right, I had almost forgotten,¡± I said, fixing my sheathed broadsword to the back of my left shoulder. ¡°It has only been a few years since you joined the Bloodguards, hasn¡¯t it Jenna?¡±


    ¡°Yes, only about four years.¡±


    I nodded, fixing my shield around my back with its built in strap. ¡°I have gotten so used to your face in these years that I would have thought you were a lifelong companion.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Commander.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°That wasn¡¯t really a compliment, Hunter Jenna. All of my lifelong companions are dead and rotting in their graves already.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­I see. I will have to decline the invitation then,¡± she said, looking only slightly bothered.


    Frowning a little, I fixed the position of my weapon again. One of the worst positions to place your weapon is behind the back, especially considering the length of the longer weapons such as a broadsword. It is almost impossible to draw out the weapon then unless your arm is twice as long as your back.


    In the midst of a battle, you will waste a few precious seconds trying to draw the weapon out. As for my own weapon, I slung the strap around my shoulder, so as to make it easier to take the sheathed weapon off, then draw it.


    Still, the best position to draw a longer weapon such as a broadsword is to hang it at your waist. Or better yet, leave it naked at all times. It was a matter of convenience and comfort.


    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question, Commander Kai,¡± Jenna said.


    Patting Nox¡¯s neck, I dismounted from the saddle, looking at my surroundings. Gnarled trees whose roots shot off into a myriad of directions surrounded our six person group. As for the trees themselves, they loomed so far above with their black canopies that only specks of light were allowed through. Black as midnight, the wood of the trees seemed to devour the specks of light that managed to get through.


    ¡°We will simply wait here by the pillar for our guest to arrive,¡± I said after taking a deep breath. The dampness and the mustiness of these ancient woods entered my nose. It would become a constant companion for us now.


    ¡°Who is the guest,¡± Magus Sabria asked. The nervousness in her face could not be hidden. For the newcomers to the Cruorus Lands, it was always hard to familiarize themselves with the ancient silence that seems to permeate the woods.


    ¡°Don¡¯t turn into a full red coward on us now, little Magus,¡± Nuala said with a smirk from behind her. ¡°You are the one that wanted to come along.¡±


    A few minutes of silence passed by as we waited by the black pillar, the silence only interrupted by the argument between Nuala and Sabria.


    Silence still, if ignoring Nuala and Sabria. I could see the fidgeting movements from the others now, the ones who had been here before. Then the silence fell between Nuala and Sabria. They had stopped arguing.


    There was a coldness in the air now. I could taste it, feel it on my skin, under my skin. Like an itch under the skin you could not get at.


    Presences, my instincts warned me. And I trusted my instincts¡ªthey had kept me alive thus far so the trust was warranted.


    ¡°I always hate this part,¡± Kass complained.


    ¡°But you have only been here once before with the Commander,¡± Zan said.


    ¡°Shut your bearded mouth. I can say whatever I want,¡± she replied, not too harshly for Kass was in truth fond of Zan. He was a likeable old Greynat.


    I liked him too. An if I ever had to kill Zan, I would give him an easy death.


    Soon, the coldness became more palpable, like the chills from a fever. Fog started to rise from the ground, covering our surroundings. As if alive, the white mist slowly lifted itself up until more than enough to reach past our heads.


    I shook my head with feigned disappointment, ignoring the confused questions from Sabria and Jenna. ¡°The games we play in this forest.¡±


    I waited a few seconds. ¡°Zan, if you please.¡±


    ¡°Right away, Commander Kai,¡± he replied affably. See? There was a reason why I liked the old Greynat. He was friendly, obedient, and respectful. Too friendly sometimes though.


    With ease that could only come from years of experience, Zan opened up his Surge. And though I couldn¡¯t exactly see the actions he was taking in this fog where one could not even see past three steps, I knew what Zan would be doing.


    In a forest, the most powerful Magus are the ones with compatibility to Nature and Earth Essences. For good old Zan, he was an Earth and Darkness Magus of the Seventh Foci, worth a small army by himself.


    A few seconds passed by and I could feel the swirl of Essences around me. And though I couldn¡¯t identify what kind of Essences they were with my own eyes, I could feel that there were Essences gathering around us.


    ¡°Disperse!¡± Zan shouted in the language of Knowing.


    And with just that word, the fog started dispersing into a singular direction. Along with the chill, the fog was sucked into a small crack that had opened up in the ground just twenty steps away to the front of me.


    There is a power in Knowing, a power in words and in names. In actuality, Zan had no real need to shout out Disperse but there was just more power with the spoken word.


    The Earth Essences swirled around us furiously and at the center of it all was the small divide in the ground. Soon, all of the fog along with the chill of the air was swallowed by the crack.


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    ¡°Seal!¡±


    The small crack in the ground abruptly closed, leaving not even one trace to be seen.


    ¡°Let me do the talking,¡± I said. Then an edge of hardness. ¡°Don¡¯t cause any troubles, Kass, Magus Sabria, and Nuala.¡±


    A moment passed by as we waited.


    From between the massive roots of two gnarled trees, a hooded figure came walking out. A familiar figure to my eyes, but small compared to the massive roots of the trees.


    ¡°Must you always play these games, Golden Ears?¡± I said. Not a single trace of emotion entered my voice.


    A crackling laughter, decrepit like the old gnarled trees of these ancient woods. ¡°So the famous Commander Kai Bloodseeker pays another visit to old me. Or rather, the famous White Reaper.¡± He spoke the words of the common language of the Tribal Alliance fluently, barely mangling the pronunciations.


    The hooded figure stopped short just before us, taking off his grey hood that was attached to his too long, too tattered brown robes. The clothes looked as ancient as the trees themselves.


    A grey furred face, beak-like nose, two golden sunken eyes, one of them half closed as if age had laid claim to it. Then the golden furred ears that shot off like branches from the top of his black furred head and drooped down, burdened by age. The features looked familiar to me.


    ¡°How many years has it been, White Reaper?¡± came his elderly voice, like the scraping of two flimsy branches.


    An irritating sound. Something about it just rubbed me the wrong way. I steadied myself, not letting my weapon leave my scabbard. I didn¡¯t want a battle, especially with the hidden presences all around us, behind trees, on the branches. Bows were most likely trained upon us also.


    ¡°Seven years since my last visit, Old Ears,¡± I said.


    Discipline, my friends, discipline. I didn¡¯t let my sword-hand stray.


    Golden Ears came closer until he stood just before me. Age had also sunken his height. He would be lucky if he reached five feet.  From the long sleeves of his tattered brown robe, a hand came unhidden.


    I shook the patchy grey furred hand, thin and light with its four bony digits. ¡°True friends are always hard to come by, White Reaper. You should visit me more often.¡±


    ¡°I will pay you a last visit on your deathbed, Old Ears.¡±


    He laughed, unbothered by my words. ¡°Good, I shall hold onto that promise, though I am afraid I still have a long life ahead of me.¡±


    ¡°Really? You look as if a sudden wind could topple you over any moment.¡±


    He laughed again. ¡°When I collapse, it will be underneath a pretty young thing.¡± His neck twisted a little. ¡°Ah, Nuala. You look well, dear.¡±


    ¡°Feck off, old thing.¡±


    Golden Ears shook his head, a friendliness in his sunken eyes. ¡°You have raised her well, White Reaper.¡± He turned toward Kassina. ¡°Ah, the former slave.¡± A quick pause. ¡°And former lady. Kassina, am I correct?¡±


    Kass twitched a smile at that. ¡°Have you been telling stories of me now, Commander Kai?¡± There was a dangerous edge to her voice.


    I smiled at her implied threat, but was not even given a chance to speak.


    ¡°It was me who told the White Reaper to free you on his last visit seven years ago,¡± Old Ears continued on as if he had not heard her threat.


    Surprise flittered across Kassina¡¯s face, quickly in and quickly out.


    ¡°Enough, Old Ears. Stop playing with them. Do not make me repeat myself,¡± I said, imagining my hands around his ancient throat, throttling him to his death before a quick shove of my broadsword.


    Golden Ears startled a little at that. He smiled. ¡°As frightening as always, White Reaper.¡± He made a little bow toward me.


    ¡°Quit the flattery.¡±


    Instead of Golden Ears, he should have been called golden-tongued. And to add to his golden tongue were his unnatural perceptiveness and a strange ability to touch minds¡ªit made him a font of knowledge.


    He was the spider living in the hearts of the Cruorus Lands, weaving his webs all around. Diverse knowledge at the tips of his fingers, and all he asked in return were favors.


    ¡°Oh forgive me, where are my manners? Would you like to rest in my humble home for a day or two?¡±


    ¡°No need. I came here to ask you a few questions in exchange for the debts you have accrued.¡± I had done a few favors for Golden Ears by eradicating some unruly beast tribes more than two decades ago.


    A faint smile. ¡°Ask away, White Reaper,¡± he said.


    ¡°Why are there increasing movements seen among the Dreads?¡±


    Straight to the point, yet an ambiguous answer was given.


    ¡°Why else?¡± Golden Ears said. ¡°It¡¯s an age old thing. Hatred. Ambition. Grudges. The stuff that makes us all living, breathing beings. Just like you, White Reaper.¡±


    I waited patiently for him to continue, unbothered by his long tirade of which I held no interest in. Golden Ears knew, no, we both knew that I wouldn¡¯t be provoked by such words or his roundabout answer to my question.


    ¡°The Dreads you fought were simply fodder, like grass for the critters. They were simply scouts, testing at your resolve, at your strengths, at your vigilance.¡±


    ¡°I have heard that there is a war going on in the border territories of the Dread.¡±


    He tapped his golden ear once, twice, thrice. ¡°You heard only a part of it, White Reaper. My weaves in and beyond the Dread Mountains tell otherwise. They tell of wars between the Overlords.¡±


    ¡°An Overlord?¡± I asked. I had never heard of such a term used among the Dreads.


    ¡°So little your Tribal Alliance knows. The first invasion was led by a mere rebellious Half-Lord with his thirty thousand underlings. And the successive invasions led by remnants that had stayed behind in the Half-Lord¡¯s territories.¡±


    His voice changed for the softer, a threatening edge in it. ¡°And above a Half-Lord are the Lords, and even above that are the Overlords.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at that as a sincere surprise had come over me. ¡°Do you mean to tell me that more and more of these Dreads will come here?¡±


    A dry wheezing of a laughter, and another, then another. ¡°Such ignorance! We are like ants to them, White Reaper. A small bite, a mere Half-Lord. The Overlords do not care of such things. They have far more compelling problems.¡±


    I made to open my mouth, but Golden Ears continued on unabated.


    ¡°What your Tribal Alliance calls the Dread Mountains is to the Dread Overlords, a small dot of insignificance on their maps. What is fifty thousand against millions?¡± Another wheeze. ¡°There are vast lands you do not know of far to the east beyond the Dread Mountains.¡±


    The numbers were alarming. Millions? Unimaginable. Even if all the tribes in the Tribal Alliance banded together, there would still be less than three hundred thousand.


    His sunken half-closed eye fluttered open, shining with an intense light. ¡°And a new ruler has come to the Dread Mountains. A Dread Lord. That, White Reaper, answers your question.¡±


    ¡°That was indeed quite an answer, Old Ears.¡± I looked at that decrepit old furry bastard over again. I had underestimated him. The extent his weaves of information had spread was even beyond the Dread Mountains? I found that impossible.


    All of my instincts, my mind, my knowledge¡ªeverything¡ªtold me that this old man could not pose a threat to me. Over the years I had known Golden Ears, he had never once given away such telling information. Perhaps he was hiding his powers?


    Then if so, I had to admire Golden Ears. I had known him for more than five decades, yet never once did he reveal the extent of his hands.


    As if knowing my thoughts, Golden Ears asked, ¡°Do you know why I am telling you this, White Reaper?¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked. There was a strange sense of danger crawling under my skin.


    His sunken golden eyes met my own starless eyes, a midnight color devoid of almost all light, or so I have been told.


    ¡°My mistress, The Lady of the Forest wishes to meet with you, White Reaper.¡± He growled out the last two words with distaste.

 Chapter 26: The Lady of the Forest (Kai)

    Chapter 26: The Lady of the Forest (Kai)


    ~Kai


    What is the most dishonest feature in a person, you ask?


    The eyes would be my answer.


    Do not trust them, for with practice, the eyes can easily mislead others.


    Kind eyes, especially.


    My mother had kind eyes.


    I trusted them. And look where that trust has led me.


    -Kai Bloodseeker, on the subject of eyes


    I licked my lips as a feeling I had not felt in years come over me. It made my chest hurt. Excitement? Anxiety? ¡°So the Lady of the Forest truly exists?¡± I asked.


    ¡°She does, though I have no clue as to why she wishes to meet with you,¡± Golden Ears said. ¡°You are not suitable to meet with her.¡±


    ¡°And you are?¡± I asked. It¡¯s curious how some choose to put themselves onto a pedestal above others. Me? I choose to put myself onto the lowest pedestal only so that I can knock the ones above over. And I would laugh from my lowest position, watching them fall down from such heights.


    ¡°Far more worthy than you, White Reaper,¡± he replied with an air of assurance that held not one single doubt. ¡°There is far more blood on your hands than on mine.¡±


    The itching hurt within my chest grew stronger. ¡°So it is,¡± I admitted. Even in the whole of the Tribal Alliance, I would be hard pressed to find someone as bloodstained as me. ¡°Still, I will have to ask this Lady of yours if she has blood on her hands. Or somewhere else.¡± I paused for a moment. ¡°Somewhere lower perhaps.¡±


    His golden sunken eyes bulged at that, and he made to move but stopped after a step. In that brief second, Jenna had trained her white bow upon him, a black tipped arrow nocked. Another step toward me, and she would shoot.


    ¡°My, Golden Ears. I never would have figured you to be a fool in love. You must hold your Lady in high regards.¡± I smiled. ¡°All these years I have known you, I figured you to be a smart fool, only in love with yourself.¡±


    I could sense the hidden presences around me move closer. Nuala, with her white longsword, her yellow eyes stalking the shadows of the woods. Kass, twitching her fingers, the nails on them elongating. Zan, looking there like a hefty rock. And Magus Sabria, looking confused, standing prettily and out of place.


    With a hand, I patted his shoulders. ¡°Why don¡¯t you lead on to this Lady of the Forest, old friend. I would like to meet her.¡±


    I was curious to say the least. It would be a first for me. I had never met a goddess before. And I had heard tall tales of The Lady of the Forest. Tales even which I would find myself hard pressed to replicate.


    ¡°Only you, White Reaper, can meet with her,¡± Golden Ears said.


    ¡°Are you sure she cannot make a few exceptions?¡± I didn¡¯t like the thoughts of going off by myself to meet this mysterious Lady of the Forest.


    ¡°No exceptions,¡± he confirmed, then showed the yellow of his teeth. ¡°Unless you daren¡¯t follow. Perhaps the Lady can make a few exceptions then.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± I knew that was a cheap provocation, but in the end, it didn¡¯t matter. I had a few tricks up my sleeves. ¡°Stay here with Nox and kill anyone that shows his face,¡± I said toward my group. I smiled and raised my voice to another notch, just enough for the surroundings to hear too. ¡°And anyone that shows their presences.¡±


    I could feel the hidden presences flicker further away at my words. You see, it all boils down to a game of intimidation with Golden Ears, a game which I played best among many, many other games.


    ¡°What! That is simple idiocy,¡± Magus Sabria called out. ¡°You would meet with someone unknown in a foreign place all by yourself? Who knows how many of them there are.¡±


    ¡°Have to agree with her on this one, Commander Kai,¡± Jenna said.


    Zan nodded alongside her. Despite having been here with me a few times, Zan still didn¡¯t trust Golden Ears. It was a good decision. I didn¡¯t trust Old Ears either.


    ¡°At least let me come along, Kai?¡± Nuala asked sweetly. Other than Bane, she was the only one that I allowed to break formalities.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± I replied. And that was the end of it. They knew better than to object to my decision twice. Once, I allowed, simply so that I could get a second opinion. Twice, it became a matter of life and death.


    So I followed, trudging behind Golden Ears and leaving the rest of my group behind to guard the mounts.


    For a long while, Old Ears led me merrily around the twisted paths of these ancient woods. And all around me, I could sense the hidden presences following along. But I let the shadowed figures follow.


    I left a wide opening too, hoping that they would take advantage of it. I smiled. It looks like they had better discipline now. On one of my visit some odd years ago, a few of them had attempted to attack me after I had thrown a dagger at Old Ears. I had missed purposefully, but they still attacked me.


    A shame most of them didn¡¯t listen to Old Ears¡¯ shouts of withdrawal. It was the last words they ever heard again. I pitied them, for I wouldn¡¯t have liked to die with only Old Ears¡¯ decrepit voice to accompany me.


    I didn¡¯t accept any thanks afterward too even though I helped them with their population¡ªthey had less mouths to feed.


    ¡°I am impressed,¡± I said, a casualness in me. ¡°Their discipline is better now.¡±


    Old Ears turned back to glare at me before moving on. It looks like the years had not been kind to his memories. The incident was still fresh on his mind.


    After a few more twists and turns, going through the gnarled roots and crossing a small clearing, we arrived at Old Ears¡¯ abode. Well, rather than an abode, I suppose it was more of a small village.


    There were a few more tree domes than I could recognize structured around the bases of the trees and further above. ¡°Looks like your village has prospered some more.¡±


    Old Ears led me further in, ignoring my words. I didn¡¯t blame him for it.


    Small children of various different beast tribes ran across the grounds, chasing each other around trees. On the wooden suspension bridges that connected the tree domes to different trees, there were older beastllings passing through. The bridges were three persons wide and held up by thick green vines, along with an assortment of other plants.


    Most of the ones on the bridges turned to wave at Old Ears before shirking back away after they had glanced at me. The children on the ground halted their games, gawking at me curiously, at the unfamiliar sight that I made. They gawked until their mothers hurried out of the tree domes and pulled them backward into their embraces.


    ¡°White Reaper.¡±


    I could hear the small whispers that ran across their mouths, their tongues rolling around the two words in their various languages. I ignored them all, silently following Old Ears as he made his way through.


    A beastling, wolven by the looks of him, bowed deeply toward me until I almost thought his head would roll off. The beastling was faceless to me. I didn¡¯t recognize him and I didn¡¯t care.


    ¡°He was one whom you freed fifteen years ago, White Reaper,¡± Old Ears quietly said.


    Fifteen years ago? I let my silence answer Old Ears. I didn¡¯t remember much. Just faceless beastlings, the mottled black and grey skin of the Dreads, and as always, the rivers of blood.


    Golden Ears walked on further until the village was out of sight. Finally, he stopped before an enormous tree. I recognized the tree for what it was. An Evermore Tree, rarer than Ever Trees and far more ancient. To an Evermore Tree, the Ever Trees would be like its children.


    The Evermore Tree wasn¡¯t particularly colorful, nor was it particularly tall. In fact, its height was even shorter compared to the other trees. No, what was strange about the Evermore Tree was its base. Without a doubt, it was the widest tree in the whole of the Cruorus Lands. It could have easily accommodate a hundred people living inside its base.


    There were new sights to the Evermore Tree that hadn¡¯t been there on my last visit. Then again, seven years was a long time, plenty of time for changes.


    An elegant flight of stairs, the bottom the widest and the top the narrowest. A scattering of ebony leaves on every other step. Golden Ears climbed first. And I followed, taking my first step onto the first rung. Soft brown wood, wide enough for eight people.


    Ten. Twenty. Thirty. I counted the rungs of the stairs as it led me to newer heights. When I reached the top, standing on the narrowest step barely wide enough for two individuals, Golden Ears had already passed through the hollowed entrance where no doors guarded.


    A hundred steps, I had counted. Not one more. Not one less. A perfect hundred steps.


    How fascinating. The Lady of the Forest must have a preference for such a number, I figured. It spoke of a meticulousness, a trait I quite admired in a person. I looked down at the far away floor of the forest. And a love for heights too, it seems.


    Entering through the entrance whose width was hollowed out just enough for two people to walk hand in hand, but with a height far greater, reaching twenty feet, a stray thought entered my mind. The entrance looked as if it was made for a thin giant.


    The hollowed room inside the Evermore Tree was plain, with only the walls¡¯ lighter soft brown to speak of. The ceiling looked far away, possibly more than forty feet above. The room was unfurnished, just a circular expanse of wood. The floor was patterned with circular lines that seemed to band together in a mass of confusion.


    Up ahead, in the center of the room, behind a dais, Golden Ears stood kneeling on one knee, his face lowered.


    In front of him, standing on that dais, that raised circular platform made of the strange black metal that was found on the black pillar landmarks, the Lady of the Forest stood with her back turned.


    Like the flicker of dawn¡¯s first light, curiosity was lit inside me. I moved further, until I stood just beside the kneeling form of Golden Ears, just two arms¡¯ length away from the Lady of the Forest.


    Despite fighting hard to suppress the urge, my eyes widened at her form. Two alabaster wings were spread wide open, sprouting beside her pale white shoulder blades which were left seen from the tantalizing cut of her full bodice dress. Her thin apparel of a dress was the color of burgeoning green, held up only by the two thin straps that encircled her shoulders. The bottom of her dress rippled down from the black dais, almost touching the floor.


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    As she made to turn around, her two alabaster wings, frosted by the purer white of her feathers, rippled along with the movement.


    An immaculate face, unblemished, unmarred by nothing and framed by a cascade of melancholic nightly curls. Her mouth glistening like dew on leaves after a spring rain, the heaving of her breasts.


    Then everything fell apart as I met her eyes.


    Her eyes, just like her face, were unmarred by nothing. A silvery white pool of nothingness. They were blank, not a trace of pupils anywhere to be seen. Untouched. A barren white that devoured me, that sank me into the depths of their silvery pools, drowning me.


    Images, recollections, remembrances, and memories of the past flashed through my mind, blazing through it like the whites of flames, too hot and too fast for me to dwell upon.


    Then blood dyed the whites of the flames.


    My older sister lying in a pool of her own blood, and my own mother standing before her with distaste in her kind, kind eyes.


    My little brother lying in a pool of his own blood, and my mother standing before her with that same distaste in her kind, kind eyes.


    The whites of the flames turned scarlet, forever marred by the red of blood.


    Then. Another flash of image.


    My mother lying in a pool of her own blood as I slit a dagger across her white throat, her eyes that had been in ecstasy but a moment ago now widening in surprise. The question that was raised in her eyes, and the choked question that never came.


    My father too, whom had ran from me like a small prey. I hunted him down too, watching as he lay bleeding. Broken like a trinket.


    More and more bodies, each looking more comical than the next in their own red sheens.


    The bodies which belonged to my Incretio tribe. All of them dead by my own hands.


    And finally, of her beautiful familiar figure, all shattered like a bird whose wings had been torn apart. Her hair like the color of the blood that pooled down from her forehead. Her eyes like the black of dull Xeonite, the light leaving from them. Then frozen forever in that eternal moment.


    A gasp, almost like the choking of the dying. Then a cold came over me like the chill of the dying.


    My mouth curled into a smile. A smile that belonged to only me. So the Lady of the Forest wanted to play games?


    If so, I would show her I could play games as well as her.


    So I opened the walls of my mind, letting them fall into rubbles. Of my own accord, I broke all of them down. So many walls fell to pieces. The many walls I had built up in the years instantly destroyed. I showed her all of it. And she showed me the same.


    A gasp. Not my own, but hers.


    The blood-dyed white flames winked out. And a silence fell. A smile wrapped her perfect lips. And mirroring it was my own smile.


    The Lady of the Forest extended her snow-fallen hand. It felt slim and cool in my own hand. I knew the custom she wanted me to play. A kiss on the hand as a greeting. I had seen and heard it many times in some of the tribes. But I didn¡¯t play her game.


    I played my own. I simply shook her snow-fallen hand before releasing it. An ache in my heart at releasing her hand. A bloody Enchantress too? Her powers were formidable, much more than I had ever experienced from the many Enchantresses of the Delectare tribes.


    ¡°So fragile you are. So beautiful you are.¡± Her voice was soft and cool, leaving you with a wanting, a thirst that could not be sated. And her fluency in the languages could not be doubted. ¡°I have been wanting to meet with you, Kai.¡± My name was said with a slow grace, as if she was tasting the feel of it around her tongue.


    The Lady of the Forest turned toward Golden Ears. ¡°Leave us,¡± she said.


    Golden Ears made to protest, but her blank white eyes shut him enough quickly. Old Ears left then, his footsteps softly thudding every second or so as he made his way down the flight of stairs.


    I wasn¡¯t one to kneel, not even to a supposed Goddess. So I stood, patiently waiting for the footfalls to recede. ¡°What do you want with me?¡± I asked.


    ¡°I wish to ask of you a favor, child of the Incretio tribe,¡± she said.


    Already, the Lady of the Forest had started off on the wrong side of me. Calling me a child only made it worse. ¡°It has been many years since I was last called a child,¡± I said.


    ¡°And it¡¯s been many years, far more than you could imagine, since I was last a child,¡± the Lady replied.


    ¡°You don¡¯t look half as old as you suggest,¡± I said, feeling an itching on my shoulder, the place where my strapped broadsword laid.


    She smiled. A forgiving smile that felt as if all the sins could be washed away from my hands. ¡°I can save her,¡± she whispered softly. ¡°Sonara.¡±


    My breath, along with my body, froze at that single word.


    A moment. My breath returned. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I acted as if I didn¡¯t know what she was speaking of.


    ¡°The dying body which you froze in the Glacius Mountains more than a century ago. I can breathe life back into her, into Sonara,¡± she whispered. Another forgiving smile, turned seductive at the last second. ¡°And all you have to do is bring me an object from the Guardians. From the Wastelands.¡±


    I drew my sword, faster than I had ever drawn it. And in the instant the sword was freed, I swung into a rising arc that cut across. Her head separated from her body. It came off cleanly. Then I pivoted, bringing the sword back down again, cutting deep into her chest. Blood flowered from her chest and when her body finally knew how to fall down, her stump of a neck knew how to bleed.


    ¡°I have never been inclined to believe in bedtime stories. Not even as a child,¡± I said, sheathing my broadsword again in one quick motion. ¡°And I have never liked anyone telling me what to do. Not even my mother. My future is my own, not for anyone else.¡±


    As I made to leave, her blank white eyes blinked. Once. Twice. And her lips moved. ¡°You will regret this, White Reaper.¡±


    ¡°Then I will just add another thing to my list of regrets,¡± I said, my voice still calm, but my mind shaken by the fact that she still moved.


    Her melancholic midnight hair changed into a deep red, and her eyes became the black of Xeonite metal, but shining instead of dull. Her face rippled, the bones of her face molding into something else. A face so familiar I still dreamt of it¡ªSonara.


    ¡°You will regret this, Kai,¡± she said. Her voice was familiar too. Sonara¡¯s voice.


    I ran at that. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Across the room and out the hollowed entrance of the Evermore Tree. All the while, a coldness burned in me. And a feeling I had not felt in many years. Dread.


    Then I jumped off the flight of stairs. Of the top of its perfect hundred steps.


    ¡°Incretio!¡± I screamed as the air rushed around me and the ground rushed toward me. A pair of wings, its feathers like the dull black of Xeonite, exploded outward from my back. Then I felt the black scales cover the sides of my face, my arms, my legs, and my whole body. All of them heritage from my Incretio tribe.


    I felt my body slowing down, then I was hovering in midair, near the upper half of the flight of stairs. Not even looking back, I shot upward into the air, faster and faster. The branches and black leaves of the Evermore Tree became a blur.


    And not once did I felt the scrape of the branches on my skin as I broke through all of them. Finally, I broke through the canopies of the forest. High up in the air, I rushed toward the black pillar landmark.


    Then I shot back down toward the ground, landing near where Nox was, startling all the Vulcans and the five in my group.


    ¡°What happened? Why are you in that form, Commander?¡± Zan shouted, his voice somewhat panicky. He had only seen me in this form once before and that had been in a dire situation.


    As for the rest, none of them had ever seen me in this form. They grouped around me, their mouths still gaping, wanting to ask questions.


    ¡°No time for discussions, Zan. We are leaving here and heading back to the fortress.¡±


    He nodded, and prepared himself to jump atop the Vulcan.


    ¡°Well, I for once want to know what happened,¡± Magus Sabria said.


    I kept my voice cheerful, not at all like the coldness that was burning inside me. I climbed atop Nox who was the only happy to see me. ¡°Plans change,¡± I said. ¡°We are no longer going to scout out the Dread borders. We are going back to the fortress.¡±


    The moment I was settled on the saddle, I urged Nox to leave the forests. The others scrambled to catch up as Nox shot forward up into the air.


    ¡°Ah right, could you please topple this black pillar, Zan?¡± I asked politely.


    He nodded, not even bother to ask the reason why. See? I told you there were reasons why I liked Zan.


    Opening up his Surge, Zan closed his eyes, channeling for a long moment. A while later as I yawned out a sigh, he opened his eyes. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then a rumbling noise beneath us. The noise grew steadily and steadily until it stopped with one last rumbling.


    The black pillar toppled down, crashing down onto a few trees. But it didn¡¯t crash down into the direction of the small village.


    Zan was just too friendly sometimes.


    ¡°I have a Tribal Alliance meeting to attend to,¡± I said out of nowhere. Well, in the air actually.


    Behind Kassina and atop her Vulcan, Magus Sabria started muttering curses. She had been bothering me to attend the meetings for the whole of the month. And now that I finally agreed, she was uttering death threats below her breath.


    Some people. They just do not know what they want.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go home,¡± I said with an air of finality after giving one final glance in the direction of the village, at the place where the Evermore Tree grew.


    ==========


    AN: Perspective will switch back to MC next chapter.

 Chapter 27: No More a Hunter (End of Arc 1)

    Chapter 27: No More a Hunter (End of Arc 1)


    One knee against the ground and leaning on my blade-spear, I stood panting as my breaths came harder and harder. Around me were the bodies of a pack of Black Wolves. I gritted my teeth as blood dripped down from the lacerations on my back. On my right biceps, there were a few claw marks. And all over, I was sporting some bruises and some smaller wounds.


    A howl resounded throughout the area where I stood. And from between two trees, an enormous  White Wolf came leaping down. As it landed, all four of its paws made dents in the ground, crunching a few stray branches. The beast¡¯s pair of scarlet eyes stared at me and its rows of fangs, as white as its fur, were dyed red with blood.


    Suddenly the White Wolf lunged toward me, closing more than thirty steps in an instant. In the middle of it all, I closed my eyes, settling my breath.


    When I opened my eyes again, the black nose and muzzle of the White Wolf was so near me that I could feel its hot breath and the smell of blood in its mouth. Remnants of its last dinner, pieces of fur and flesh, were stuck between its fangs.


    ¡°Good to see you, Ceres,¡± I said, a grin on my face. The White Wolf was friend, brother, and follower to me. It was also the strongest wolf in the Desolate Forests Range.


    Ceres let out a small whine, his eyes looking worried about my wounds. Ever since I had Blood Bonded with Ceres, I could sense all of its intentions and what it was thinking. Not to mention the fact that I could always sense the direction of his location.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. This will heal after a moment or two.¡± My eyes glanced at its lower left limb. ¡°What you should be worried about, however, is that injury on that leg. Did one of the Black Wolves get you?¡±


    Ceres nodded at me, his muzzle moving slightly downward.


    ¡°I think that was all the Black Wolves, right?¡± I asked, my eyes warily glancing at my surroundings.


    Ceres affirmed my question with a victory howl.


    A relief went through me and I fell down onto the small clearing of the Desolate Forests Range. Wincing a little at the pain from the lacerations on my back, I laughed. Then I released my grip onto my blade-spear, letting it fall down beside me.


    Up above, the stars glittered like mysterious things. Unreachable and always twinkling, as if they were winking at me, watching over me. I reached a hand out at the stars as if making a grab for them, though I knew it was futile.


    Another laughter bubbled forth from deep within me. ¡°It has been six years since I found you as a growing cub left alone to die, Ceres. And eight years since Hunter passed away. Two years ago, Dance of First had her Ritual of Age, her horns fully grown. Many years have passed, yet why is it that I feel as if I had not grown at all?¡±


    My question was not answered. Ceres merely gave an empathic howl toward the stars, toward me. Then he laid himself down beside me, his considerable head, almost the size of my body, supported by two of his paws.


    For a long while, the two of us slept until my wounds had healed. And although there were corpses surrounding us, and the scent of blood wafting through the cool nightly breeze, we slept on, knowing that none of the creatures nearby would dare harm us. This was our territory, and all those who trespass would meet our blades and fangs. The bodies of the Black Wolves were testaments to this.


    When my eyes opened again, the night was well on its way toward dawn. And some of the corpses of the Black Wolves had been dragged away by brave scavengers. But the corpses that had been dragged away were only the ones on the outer edges. None of the scavengers had dared come close to the bodies near us.


    Taking a deep breath and my blade-spear, I stood up. Then I started sprinting through the forest, racing alongside Ceres. We kept pace with each other, bringing out a little competitive spirit.


    Finally, we exited the Desolate Forests Range and arrived at the Bleary Grasslands. There, on a small distance, a wooden cottage stood in its grey background.


    A figure came out of the cottage and toward me.


    Getting down on a knee, I greeted the familiar figure. ¡°I have returned, Master.¡±


    Ever since five years ago, when I had turned thirteen, I had abandoned my duties as a Hunter, running away from the Piercing Moon tribe. Of course, I still had the sense to tell Dance of First and my seven Brothers of my plans. But I didn¡¯t tell Grandmother Moon Bird, for she had passed away six years ago.


    As for Magus Embracing Flower and her daughter, they relied on each other for support. With that, Hunter¡¯s death had been overcome by them. A big bump in their roads of life, but in the end, they had overcome it. They had no need of me to take care of them. I was still a child, a child who knew nothing. Then again, even now, I still know nothing.


    And with Dance of First, we had eventually strayed apart in the years as I locked myself into a reticence. My Brothers too, of course, they had strayed apart.


    Part of my reticence had to do with Hunter¡¯s death, of Arkiees death. But most of all, it had to do with my growing dissatisfaction. A disappointment in being a Hunter, a role that had chosen me, and not a role I had chosen.


    Strangely enough, my seven Brothers were all content with their roles, even Dance of First who had been discontent with her role as a Magus. She had grown to the role now, and was making fine progress, already a Magus of the Second Foci.


    And in those three years since Hunter¡¯s death, my blood had begun Surging more and more. Always active. Always relentless. It was calling me somewhere else. It was leading me elsewhere. Until finally, my discontent had spilled over.


    ¡°Welcome back, Wolf Under Stars,¡± said the Ritual Master, said One Who Walks in Grey Night.


    ¡°Yes. It is good to be back, Master.¡±


    ¡°You know, Wolf Under Stars. I had a feeling we would meet again. I didn¡¯t know when eight years ago, but I knew that the troubles you met would bring you back to me.¡± The Ritual Master smiled. ¡°The ones who are chosen by the Red Heart are always the ones who are dissatisfied. Different from the others. And until they finally know their own passions, they become radiant.¡±


    The Ritual Master locked eyes with me, but I didn¡¯t flinch from those dark eyes. ¡°So you are a rare existence, a Hunter born with a Surge. But even rarer, a Halfling Hunter born with a Surge. But one that has been broken.¡±


    ¡°You have told me this when I told you my secrets, Master,¡± I said. ¡°Of my abilities with my blood.¡±


    The Ritual Master nodded slowly. ¡°I had a feeling you were hiding some secrets. And now that you are eighteen years old and strong enough, I can tell you my own. You see, there have been Hunters born with Surges before in the past centuries. The previous Ritual Master told me this before, as did all the past Ritual Masters to the next. For more than two centuries now, there have been no Hunters born with Surges. Ever since the first Dread invasion and ever since the Guardians of the Wastelands were attacked, there has never been a Hunter born with a Surge.¡±


    ¡°So you are saying that I am the first one to be born once more?¡±


    The Ritual Master nodded. ¡°Arkiees told me that your Surge was broken and that even after some years of testing, it never returned, so I left it as an oddity. Now that I know that your Surge is still working, albeit somewhat strangely, and that you are strong enough to survive, you will make a journey to the Wastelands.¡±


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    ¡°Wait. Why should I do that?¡±


    ¡°Ah right. I did forgot to mention the reason.¡± The Ritual Master grinned. ¡°Old age has its disadvantages.¡±


    ¡°You are just trying to draw out my anticipation,¡± I said, also grinning.


    ¡°The Guardians of the Wastelands are all Hunters who have been born with Surges. They live far longer than I would think it possible. The youngest of them are already over three centuries old.¡± He shivered. ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine living that long. I already think my age is old enough as it is.¡± Another grin. ¡°I feel younger just comparing myself to them.¡±


    The surprise of his revelation hit me hard. I fell into a silence, pondering on what the Ritual Master had told me.


    ¡°Wait. How is the attack on the Guardians of the Wastelands related to no more Hunters with Surges being born?¡±


    ¡°That is a good question. I was wondering if you would ask about that.¡±


    ¡°Really now, Master?¡± I asked, shooting him a look of irritation.


    Not paying heed to that, the Ritual Master explained. ¡°There is a reason the Guardians stay in the Wastelands.¡± A small pause, as if trying to draw out my anxiety. ¡°And that is to guard the main hearts of the Star Behemoth King.¡±


    ¡°So these hearts were attacked and thus resulted in no more Surge Hunters being born,¡± I said, instantly connecting the two. It made somewhat of a sense. ¡°Who attacked the hearts and for what reasons?¡±


    A shrug. ¡°As for the reason, I do not know about it. However, I do know of the attacker. It¡¯s a tale that has been passed down to every Ritual Master. The being who attacked the Guardians was a lady with two alabaster wings, the feathers as white as snow. Her face was simply perfection, an immaculate grace, unmarred by nothing.¡±


    Seeing the doubts on my face, the Ritual Master shrugged. ¡°I know, I know. Such a beauty is impossible, but I only tell it as the previous Ritual Master told me.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± I said.


    ¡°At the end of the battle,¡± Master continued, ¡°she escaped heavily wounded, retreating. The Guardians attempted to catch her but failed in the end. And that¡¯s about it. She never showed her face again in the centuries that have passed. And back then, we were simply busy with the Dread invasion.¡±


    ¡°Does she have a name?¡±


    A few seconds passed by as the Ritual Master pondered. ¡°I believe she called herself Morganna. A fake name, no doubt, for names hold power. And none would ever give their names out like that, especially to the Guardians.¡±


    He slapped a hand at my head. ¡°Now get up before your knee breaks from the kneeling.¡±


    ¡°That was uncalled for. I was merely paying respect to you, old man!¡± I said.


    The Ritual Master went back into his wooden cottage, and I followed him inside. The cottage was simple and small. There were only two rooms, a bedroom and a storage room. We went into the storage room, and the Ritual Master dug deeply inside a chest, taking out ancient books, and a few other assortments of objects.


    Finally, on the small table, the Ritual Master laid down a brown map, worn from age. Spreading it, he revealed a map of the Eastern Grasslands all the way to the edges of the Western Highlands. The main focus of the map, however, was on the Wastelands, a place large enough in size to be comparable to that of the Eastern Grasslands.


    He pointed at the heart of the Wastelands. ¡°This is where you will be heading to, Wolf Under Stars. You will be meeting with the ancient Guardians of the Wastelands. There, you will meet our ancestors, the very first Surge Hunters.¡± With a deft hand, the Ritual Master rolled the map again. ¡°Try not to die.¡±


    ¡°Wait? Is it that dangerous?¡±


    The Ritual Master chuckled. ¡°Why do you think its called the Wastelands?¡±


    ¡°Because it is an empty place with only sand and desert for the horizons?¡±


    He glared at me. ¡°Real funny, Wolf Under Stars. Your humor has certainly improved.¡±


    I simply shrugged at him.


    ¡°Anyway, you probably won¡¯t die. I think you are strong enough. Probably¡±


    A small silence. ¡°Should I leave today?¡±


    The Ritual Master paused for a moment, as if thinking about it. ¡°No,¡± he finally said. ¡°Spend the rest of the day with me.¡±


    He smiled at me and I mirrored his smile.


    ¡°A final hunt, eh? Think your old bones can outrun me?¡±


    ¡°I was running before you were even born, Wolf Under Stars.¡±


    ==========


    The next morning came quickly. At the crack of dawn, I was roused by the Ritual Master outside of the cottage where I slept. I was prodded awake by the hilt of a blade-spear into my stomach.


    Startled awake, and chiding at myself for not even being able to sense his presence, my eyes glared at the Ritual Master, at his grizzled face which had become so familiar to me in the last few years.


    I gasped then, seeing the weapon in his hands. It was the red blade-spear of our Piercing Moon tribe. ¡°Why do you have that!¡±


    ¡°The Watchers entrusted it to me, saying that I should give it to the next lead Hunter of the Piercing Moon tribe. They found it in a place far away where the black fires of the dragon did not reach. And the tip of it was dyed black with the dragon¡¯s blood.¡± The Ritual Master winked at me. ¡°And mixed with blood and goo that could have only come from a dragon¡¯s eye.¡±


    The Ritual Master threw the blade-spear at me. I caught it with a hand, the balance of it smooth, but unfamiliar in my hands. Arkiees¡¯ blade-spear. ¡°Why are you giving this to me? I am not the lead Hunter. I do not think I am even of the Piercing Moon tribe anymore.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say this blade spear, the Cruel Moon Piercer, is lost and can no longer be found. I think you should have it.¡± Another wink. ¡°I was entrusted with the weapon after all.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. I didn¡¯t feel as if I deserved the weapon. It was too much of a burden for me.


    I felt a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t cry now. You are of the Red Heart, after all.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said somewhat weakly. ¡°Yes,¡± I repeated, my voice stronger this time. ¡°Of strength, of willpower, of passion, and of radiance.¡±


    And just like that, after bidding farewell to the Ritual Master with a last gesture of respect, I left the Bleary Grasslands. With me, I carried the Cruel Moon Piercer, the map of the Wastelands in the pack I strung behind my back, and with Ceres beside me.


    I traveled the whole day until the stars were visible.


    And in that night, under the stars, Ceres howled to the moon and stars. And I stood beside him, my eyes following the stars.


    I was leaving everything I had known behind, going off into the Wastelands.


    Wolf Under Stars. It sounded just right.


    <><><><><>


    AN:    Whew, almost 100k words with this and also the end of Arc 1. That said, hoped you enjoyed this chapter. And I may have skipped some things (not that important in the long-run) for I didn''t want the story to drag on.


    PS: Will be taking a break  from this while I work on a new story, especially since I just finished Arc 1.


    PPS: Thanks as usual to the readers and comments! :D