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84. An Arrow Flies True
🕑 Added 2020-10-24 16:36:57 +0000 UTCA light rain fell, causing the long grass to bow in supplication. Hidden among the trees along the ridge above, I listened as the drops blipped and blopped on the forest canopy.
The ground, torn up where we’d fought the musk ox bulls, softened and its wounds closed, the earth returning to the shape it’d held before the hunt. The dried blood had washed away before my arrival. The scavengers didn’t leave much behind either.
I wasn’t here to hunt, not yet anyway. No, my goal was to observe. It was a lot harder to capture than to kill, and I needed to figure out how to catch a blynx and bring it back alive. My hope was to track it to where it holed up to sleep or eat its prey, so that I could lay an ambush for the ambusher.
So far I didn’t have much luck. Oh, I spotted a squadron of javelinas, six of them moving between the trees. There was also a skunk nosing among the musk ox bones, but he ran off after not finding anything on them. No sign of a blynx though. There were two more days before I was due in Voorhei for my next visit, so I had time to be patient.
Aunt Tulu--that’s what the builder insisted I call her--left yesterday afternoon when Kesa’s team came by to pick her up. She’d examined the trees--approved some that I’d found, others not--and spent the rest of her time in the glen pondering the future site of the shrine.
She had a pocket full of maple candies she liked to share. I kept a couple for Ikfael. The otter hid the whole time Aunt Tulu was there, but didn’t seem to mind. She was a spirit after all and always present in the glen, even if her manifestation wasn’t. Besides, she liked the candies. They were worth a little extra ruckus.
The candies were from Albei, which is where Aunt Tulu’s Family resided. It was good to know that not everyone from there was a conniving schmuck.
Focus, Ollie/Eight.
Right. Focus. Thank you, Yuki.
De nada.
The showers let up by mid-afternoon, and the sun came out to steam the land dry. A flock of geese honked as they flew overhead. The skunk came back and left. Then a beautiful doe stepped out from between the trees, her steps graceful and delicate. A moment later two fawns followed. They found an area to browse while the doe kept watch.
The only warning was a flicker out of the corner of my right eye. Dog’s Agility spun up, pumping energy into my meridians, while adrenaline dumped into my bloodstream. I twisted, bringing my spear up, but realized nothing was there. Down below, though, there was a cry.
I twisted back around in time to see a blynx latch onto a fawn and the two disappear, leaving only a line of blood in the air. Startled, the doe and remaining fawn bounded into the trees.
Was it a second--two at the most--for the area to empty and turn quiet? The only evidence that the missing fawn had lived was the blood that fell out of the air, bowing the grassy heads once more.
###
The blynx had come from the west, so I started the search there and got lucky. I found paw prints along with a bloody trail where the fawn’s body was dragged through the mud before the blynx teleported again.
I dipped into the land to open my spirit eyes. My thought was to taste the scent of the blynx’s spirit to help with tracking, but I spotted a disturbance to the west where the trail pointed. The spirits of the trees darkened, while birds scattered from their resting places in their branches.
I ran.
An oak shook in anger, the wind blustering through its branches. In a bowl formed from its roots, I found blood pooling, as well as a set of bloody prints.
The blynx my team had killed was cannier than this. It’d intermixed its travel with jumps in random directions to throw us off its trail. This one, though, appeared to be doggedly moving west. It was tired, as well. There was enough blood left behind that the blynx must’ve rested a while before teleporting.
I kept moving, dipping into and out of the land to look for disturbances. It happened again, but this time, it was a false one taking the shape of a young boy. I stumbled across him--it--crouched under a cedar. It turned when I exclaimed in surprise and began to run at me. A quick look confirmed that it wasn’t a real child, and my temper got the better of me. These things--they were responsible for so much misery.
Dog’s Agility flowed through me, and Spiral Pierce wrapped around my spear. When the false one was a lunge’s distance away, I thrusted and blew a hole through its abdomen. It didn’t even have time to open its beak. The feeling was like pushing a knife through cardboard: tough at first but easy once one was through.
The false one flailed at the end of my spear, but it didn’t take long for the limbs to go still. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced myself to watch and get used to their camouflage. I couldn’t let these things affect me. Even a split second’s hesitation could mean the difference between life and death.
Once the creature was dead, I remembered myself and looked around to ensure it was alone. The forest was quiet, and I didn’t see anything. I Camouflaged, just in case.
When the birdsong resumed and nothing else happened, I let the spell go and reached for the false one’s silverlight.
14 silverlight gathered. 13 absorbed.
Looking with my spirit eyes, I didn’t see any other disturbances nearby. Had I lost the blynx’s trail? Maybe I should get some elevation?
There was a warm-friend tree nearby with a branch close enough for me to jump to and more above within reach. When I put my hand on its trunk, the bark smelled like cinnamon. I apologized for the disturbance and jumped. Its spirit didn’t react, so I started to climb.
The bark was rough and easy to grip, and the scent grew stronger the higher I climbed, especially with the wind blowing through the branches, sweeping through my hair and clothes. I was only able to get three-quarters of the way toward the canopy, but the view was good enough. The land dipped to the west before rising again towards the hills leading to the escarpment.
I looked out over a green world full of life, the warm-friend under me swaying along with the other trees nearby. Squirrels ran along the branches above, chirping in alarm at my presence. A beetle crawled past to get to the tree’s trunk. A butterfly briefly landed on my hand, and then fluttered away.
There was no sign of the blynx yet, but I kept my eyes open. There were shifts in the forest’s mood, but not in the direction of the blynx’s trail. A small disturbance to the north, a much larger one to the south. The susurration of the wind through the warm-friend’s branches was broken by the sound of loud crack. A pine tree shook and started to fall, only to catch against its neighbors. There was smash, and the tree fell.
The forest darkened. Spirits fled, but there were those who were drawn to the disturbance. Me? I hid in the land and cast both Camouflage and Scentless Hunter.
Within minutes, a kettle of vultures glided into the area south of me to circle overhead. They fled, however, when a giant eagle also came to investigate. The telltale shaft of a broken spear jutted from his back.
This bad boy again, I thought and kept still.
Let us see, Yuki said.
So I merged our consciousnesses, and we watched the giant eagle soar, riding the air currents above where the tree fell. Then he swept away with a tilt of his wings. Whatever he saw down there must not have interested him.
The vultures came back once the giant eagle was gone. Except, one must’ve flown too low. An arc of lightning shot twenty yards into the air. For the moment, the world stopped and turned black and white, the image imprinted upon our vision. The vultures scattered and fled, while one luckless bird dropped from the sky.
We blinked to clear our eyes and stayed where we were, making ourselves as small as possible, which seemed to be the plan for every animal nearby. Nothing moved or chirped or growled. We all hid from the King of the Forest.
###
Half an hour passed before the forest breathed again. Yuki separated from our union, so that they could resume their experiments with my qi. Meanwhile, I sat back and considered.
One would think I’d have second thoughts about participating in the King’s hunt, but the lightning broke the impasse with which I’d been struggling ever since I learned of Borba and Ghitha’s punishments. Sure, the King was powerful--the way the trees held their breath was evidence enough of that--but his demonstration of power only hardened my resolve. His lightning illuminated my situation with its stark light.
What damage would it do if it struck at Billisha and Aluali during the Darkest Days? At Inleio, Mumu, and my team? How much more harm would the lightning bear do if given another six months to grow?
I was deeply uneasy about the recent events at the Hunter’s Lodge. Borba deserved punishment for his crimes, yes, but the cruelty… I sighed, not wanting my thoughts to circle and circle yet again.
Nor did I want to confront my own hypocrisy. Two bandits died in the process of saving Billisha and Aluali, and that was even before I learned to love them. It was just… there were lines one didn’t cross.
And Borba had crossed one of Inleio’s.
It wasn’t like I didn’t understand. The taste of justice was sometimes bitter. Death, though, was not final. I learned that as a child from mi abuela, and it was confirmed again later as the elders in my family aged and began to pass. I knew it from this world too, having met ghosts of all shapes and sizes, including those of my family while spirit journeying.
Suffering was something else entirely, and that was the difference. Suffering tortured the soul as well as the body, the effects stretching across lifetimes. Not that death didn’t cause suffering too--gods, I knew that well--but it seemed to me that there was a line crossed when Inleio forced Borba to eat darklight.
Maybe it was the way I was raised. We took matters of the spirit seriously. There were certain obligations, and the events at the Hunter’s Lodge came up against the boundaries of those obligations.
No one was perfect. Certainly not me, and I shouldn’t throw stones, but I’d lived long enough to know that actions can plant thorn bushes in their wake. I worried about the consequences of the lodge’s actions for Borba and the lodge. I’d spent a lot of time thinking about slippery slopes after all.
So, the lodge was mistaken, and I felt a determination to step forward and take my share of the responsibility. The problem was that I was in no position to do so, trapped as I was in an eight year old body. The hunters knew I was clever and Talented, but that didn’t mean much compared to the hard reality I saw in Inleio’s eyes when talking about Borba and Ghitha.
I liked Inleio. He reminded me of mi abuelo. I liked my team, and the bonds between us deepened with every meeting. If I wanted to maintain those relationships, then I’d have to work within the village’s rules; to not pit myself against the lodge like Ghitha had.
If I wanted to change things, I’d have to grow in power and influence. That would happen naturally as I aged, but it wouldn’t be enough. No, the leadership role I envisioned required social connections, economic clout, and political power. The first two were already in progress, but the third… I didn’t want to be Village Head or Lodge Master or anything like that, but maybe I could become an informal advisor to them?
Being the village’s liaison to Ikfael helped in that regard. Also, Mumu was in line to become the next Lodge Master, and we were now partners in addition to teammates. The money we’d gain from Bindesei’s treasure (once found) and the eilesheile business (once started) would also help.
That’s one thing Ghitha had right. Taak talks.
So, I’d keep doing what I’ve been doing. Turn into a clever pot full of answers, as well as questions. Help people and build social capital. Establish a business and build economic capital. Use the two to steer the village away from bad decisions, especially those around darklight.
This would take time, time that Borba didn’t have, but anything faster was reckless and less likely to work long term. I shook my head--there was no way for the current me to save him. His treatment would become a stain on the village’s history.
I didn’t like it, and the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe I could help ease his passage to his next life? I felt obliged to make the attempt when the time came.
At least Billisha and Aluali would benefit from this plan. Not that they’d have a bad life otherwise--I would’ve made sure of that--but this way they’d have more resources at their disposal, as well as being safer.
Would they though? Would they be safer?
Just as I’d accrued wisdom over a long life, so had Inleio. And he knew more about this world and what it took to survive in it. Who was I to say what was right and wrong?
Except, there was a feeling in my bones… this use of darklight was wrong. Maybe there were right ways--the dolbec seemed to think so--but forcing it upon people, that raised my hackles.
So, another conclusion: I had wisdom to share from my world but so did the hunters from theirs. I’d need to look for ways to pool our wisdom, so that we’d be more right together than if we were alone.
Underlying all these thoughts about wisdom, influence, and power was the very real truth that I cared about Inleio and Mumu and all the others. I wanted them to be safe, both from a dangerous world and themselves.
I couldn’t help chuckling at the irony. The man hosting the pink tide was intent on saving… not the world, a village was enough.
Which is what Ikiira had done. Except, I didn’t plan on sacrificing myself. If I really was going to hunt a lightning bear, then I’d stack the odds in my favor and wring every advantage out of the situation as possible.
Enough hiding. It was time to catch me a blynx.
###
I searched in a series of arcs radiating west. My hope was that the blynx went into hiding along with the rest of us, and that I didn’t fall too far behind. It took time, but I eventually smelled the scent of iron and musk. It led me to a goose hollow formed from the remains of a burned oak.
There was blood and tufts of the fawn’s hide. It looked like the blynx might’ve had a snack while out of sight.
The blood smeared to the west, which was strange. I figured the blynx would’ve holed longer to finish eating the fawn. Why did it continue onward? Unless… unless it wasn’t the only one meant to eat the fawn.
I moved faster; a risk, but a calculated one. The next print wasn’t far from the goose hollow, and the one after that even closer still. The range of the blynx’s teleports steadily diminished. And I was getting a better and better sense for where it aimed to go.
Hollows, depressions, fallen logs, and rocky outcroppings were all favored. Almost always, the teleport’s destination was a place screened from at least two directions.
My intuition tingled, and I picked up the pace; trusting the King of the Forest to stay to the south, occupied by whatever he’d done there. The arcs fell away as I moved directly from spot to spot.
I wasn’t always right, but three out of five was good enough to catch up and catch sight of the blynx in the midst of teleporting. The last teleport as it turned out. Not far away was a hollow log, the majority of its bulk hidden by the low branches of another tree. The blynx dragged the dead fawn’s body toward the entrance.
Almost at the goal, the blynx didn’t see the giant eagle swooping in with claws outstretched.
The--
--eagle!
I dived into the land, and brought Yuki along with me, the two of us merging in its shadows. The blynx somehow evaded the eagle’s attack although a line of red bloomed along its fur.
With a snap of his beak, the eagle tore open the fawn’s belly. He pulled out the innards and gulped them down. The blynx should’ve ran while he was occupied but it...but she didn’t. She growled and stared the eagle down.
We saw her distended teats then. There were cubs in that hollow tree.
The eagle crunched on the fawn’s bones as he eyed the blynx. Was it our imagination, or was there a malicious glint in his eyes? He knew. He knew from her reactions that there was something precious hidden in the tree.
Talons like knives raked the tree’s entrance and splintered the wood. The blynx leapt but teleported away when the eagle snapped at her. Then he did it again, toying with her.
Giant Eagle, animal, dusk
Talents: Big Boy, Talons Like Knives, Death from Above, Air Superiority
Nascent: Slightly Smarter than the Average Bird, ???
When he’d attacked our team of hunters, only Mumu’s spear had pierced through his feathers. Our arrows were either avoided or deflected away. He was in the air then though. On the ground, he was still strong, but not as strong. Still, the spear was too risky. However, an arrow in the right place might do.
Slipping through the brush, we searched for a hidden vantage, one that revealed the eagle’s eyes. It was slow going, and the blynx was constantly at risk. We felt the press of time, but if this plan was to work, we needed the advantage of surprise. We found a spot behind a blackberry bramble and paused to identify a fallback option. Then we reached for our bow.
Our strange hybrid of Olympic and hunting archery was not fast or flexible, but it was good at one thing: precision.
We steadied our breath and made our eyes mild. Today was another day at the range. There was no need for anxiety, and we eased the alarms ringing through our body. Qi funneled through our meridians, the patterns for Camouflage and Scentless Hunter familiar to us now. We apportioned flows for our muscles to strengthen them and for our arrow to begin the Spiral Pierce.
We drew.
The bow trembled with the strain, but held. We originally named her Princess Lily. It was done as half a joke at the time, but she’d been a companion through all our training. And she didn’t let us down.
The eagle paused to smirk, and we released the arrow.
The air cracked, but we were already moving towards our fallback. The eagle shrieked, and we turned to see his talons shredding the bramble. An arrow protruded from his eye.
No time to smile. No time to take pride in our skill. The eagle should’ve taken to the air immediately, but he didn’t, a grave mistake.
We were out in the open, still shy of our fallback, but couldn’t let this chance go. Our posture and our breath steadied once more. Silently, we prayed. The words and qi and mana flowed into the arrow. Spiral Pierce and mana enchantment and something older--something more primal: the desire to live and beseeching the gods to make it so.
The eagle’s head bobbed and shook as he tore the bramble apart. The bow trembled with the strain, but we waited for the right moment. For the eagle to pause. For our heart to still. For the gods to look down from their high places and give their blessings.
When that moment came, the arrow flew true.
The eagle reeled. He attempted to escape, but collided with a tree, knocking him to the ground and grinding the spear in his back. He buffeted the air and raked with his talons, but there was no one nearby.
Not until the blynx appeared above his throat. She tore at his feathers, blood spraying.
The eagle snapped at her, but too slowly. The blynx teleported straight up and fell like death upon the hapless bird. He raked and snapped, but each time, she teleported up and fell, attacking his throat until she clawed her bloody way through.
When the eagle died, the blynx slipped from his body and fell once more, this time clumsily to the ground. She lay there panting and stunned. From the fallen long, two pairs of eyes peeked out.
We sighed in relief then. And appreciation. For this is what we were made for. The blynx, Ollie/Eight, and Yuki--we were all hunters.
Stepping closer, we reached for the water pouch at our side, and the Grace in our heart.
