FanFiction:The Art of the Hunt/Season 2/Chapter 1 - Dark Paths

T he academy lay silent as the hunters approached it. Not a leaf moved now. It was somewhat frightening, in fact; no one seemed to be alive in the place anymore. It was almost enough to remind them of the unsettling feeling they'd had before the Phenor shrieked. This time, however, the fright was not related to any otherworldly presence or any giant wyvern... It was just the odd feeling you get when in the presence of an abandoned place.

"Let's see if anyone remains," Said Calli, climbing the small ladder to gain access to the narrow staircase that led up the side of the mountain, and then to the back of the school's basement. The rest of the hunters followed her as they scaled the stairs. "You know, I can't imagine why this exists, but it sure is useful," Calli said, almost as an afterthought.

"I never even knew this existed..." Said Ali in amazement.

"I've used it once or twice myself, but I can't say that I know why it was put here..." Taka said, replying primarily to Calli.

"It is kind-of creepy, in my honest opinion." Said Gamor, with slight disinterest in his voice.

The rest of the hunters grumbled to themselves or traded dark looks. For several minutes, no one else spoke. At last, when they were taking a break--the stairs were excessively long, and curved very much--Noami spoke up. "Hey, look," She said, slowly drawing her bow, "a bird. I think it's some kind of Creichan. Should I shoot?" She asked, taking aim.

Reia raised up and looked at the bird. It sat about thirty feet from them on a tree limb, pruning its feathers. It didn't suspect anything, sitting atop its high throne. Noami drew an arrow and aimed carefully towards it. "Go ahead," Said Reia, squinting to see the minor details in the creature. Noami loosed an arrow and the bird fluttered to the ground. The young girl giggled and ran up to it.

"Lunch!" She cried out happily, continuing on up the stairs. The other hunters followed. Ever on they wove, until at last they reached the back platform. Here, they rested and made a fire to cook their catch on. Taka, however, was not so happy about their bird. "This doesn't bode well," He said at length, "This bird is from the Wyvernless Lands. Something stirs in the north..." He finished, musing on it.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Said Reia, looking towards where she suspected the north to be. "That monster probably lives around there--and if it's just now stirring again, it might have made them follow it or it might have scared them off. Fat chance it'd find its way here," She said, looking towards the ground again at the destruction. She was slightly afraid of heights and winced when she noticed how far up they had come. Noami came up behind her and gave her a hug.

"Nothing to be afraid of, but... Man. Looks bad down there," She said, thinking aloud. Suddenly, they were all aware of someone approaching, albeit slowly. After the day's events, Reia and Noami were quite scared to turn around to see what it was. Calli noticed their sudden jerk to alertness and quickly looked behind. Her hands released their grip on her weapon, and she sighed with relief. It was The Elder, Scothaosta.

"Er... Who are you?" Katrina asked, drawing her Hunter's Knife slowly and noiselessly out of its sheath and holding it steady behind her back. She would not be blindsided again--not after this day's events.

"I am Scothaosta, the true Headmaster and Tanj Elder. Put that weapon up, it will serve you no good when faced with the likes of me." He said, bowing his hooded head towards Katrina. She dropped it silently to the ground, in utter awe. "Can this day get any weirder?" She thought to herself.

"I have more skill than most of you; in fact, you would't have known about me at all if I hadn't chosen to make myself known. I could have killed you all, noiselessly, without ever being seen. But I did not. Fear not, little ones." He said. He removed the hood and smiled, revealing an ancient face and use-worn teeth of many years. I don't look the part, do I...?" He said, upon noticing their looks of utter bewilderment. "But I trained under the best."

With that, they were slightly less unnerved, but all the more curious. "What do you want with us?" Ali asked. Her blunt curiosity was unquenchable.

"What I would like is the Silver One to pass from this world, but I cannot ask such weak souls to do so," He said, looking slightly disappointed, "if you should take on a task, it would break you. Each of you--even the only one here who still has any strength, the only one who could, at some point, have destroyed it. But that incarnation of him is long gone." He continued on, looking briefly towards Taka. "Even those of you descended from the Mighty of old have not inherited your ancestor's strength. The blood thins... Your bloodlines grow scarce. But that cannot be helped, not in your current state, untrained and unlearned," Socthaosta said without hesitation.

"'Unlearned'? Aren't you the Headmaster of our Academy? You should be the first to say we're the best-trained in all of Moga. You should be most proud of us," Said Jeren, thoroughly bewildered.

"Be aware of your own skill, and you will live longer, Jeren of Tanzia." The Elder said, laughing grimly. "You have, despite the fours years you have now attended hunting academies, only seen the intermediate courses. Elder Dragons are something else entirely, nevermind undiscovered, unregistered Guild nightmares. I'm not sending you to kill this beast." He said, dismissing their fears that he was going to banish or kill them.

"And if we choose to go ourselves?" Gamor asked.

"You shall have the support, blessing, and protection of all the Mogan Guild. But we cannot force you; and as this beast is not known to us, we cannot provide anything specific from our far-reaching libraries of encyclopedic knowledge. Be aware, however, that giving up on this quest after you depart upon it would mean death. We cannot guarantee that the families of the victims and the survivors of this conflict will not ostracize you, should you abandon this quest upon beginning it. You must go.... Or stay. Luckily, that won't be a hard decision," He said, smiling his conniving smile again. "I can see it in your hearts: you are storming with emotion, and it will not be long ere you make your decision. Tomorrow, at noon, report here and tell me of what you dream tonight. Do this, and with that shall your fate be decided." And with that, Scothaosta replaced his hood, turned, and walked away.

"What was THAT about, you think?" Asked Brutus. The others shook their head and ate their food, musing on the words of the elder.

They eventually made it home and reported back to their parents or guardians--those who weren't there. Luckily, all of them had managed to escape early on, sensing from the young hunters' behavior that not all was right and promptly leaving as soon as they realized it.

Only one of them actually talked much about the conflict: Katrina. She seemed disturbed, changed, by the event. The old fire in her eyes was gone. Her voice had lost its typical potency. She didn't feel quite right at all. "Oh... I hope they identify the dead by tomorrow... This is getting me sick, worrying about it." Katrina told her father. He, however, knew that more than the fear of death was on her mind; he could feel it heavy in her presence. "Death has fallen upon you... You have been surrounded by it, drowned in it. You need rest," He said at length during dinner. She simply looked towards the ceiling.

That night, they slept uneasily. They were all plagued by a dream, a very frightening and permanently unnerving dream. Their sleep was so deep that their guardians believed they were just sick from the recent sickness that had been spreading... How wrong they were... A much more powerful, and much more ancient, thing was responsible for this sleep. Something deep and fear-inducing was causing these nightmarish visions to occur.

In these dreams, the land was completely dark. Above them, the skies were black, deep and stormy. Rain seemed to pour down as if it were the tears of children, let down from the heavens. Grass, trees, and shrubs alike were disgusting, riddled with mold and eyeless insects of no discernible species. The way ahead was unclear and foggy, and in the distance, a mountain could be seen lit up against the night sky. It was incredibly jagged, and seemed to glow for some fleeting moments after being lit.

The hunter stumbled forward, guided by desire and curiosity, and yet held strong with their conscious will. The hunter's head threw itself back, releasing a howl of death-like pain. Their knees buckled, their conscious will defeated. The mountain drew them closer. Ever the lightning struck, harder and harder, and in the distance, fell screams of the damned could be heard echoing.

Without another moment's hesitation, the mountain changed its shape. Now, it looked towards the hunter, placing what could be called its head directly in front of it; there was barely three yards' space between them. "My heart burns," they discerned from afar. Then, the unthinkable happened.

A massive explosion. Bursts of light. The lightning increased in velocity and became more and more prominent; the particles swarmed around the bewildered figure. All the while, shattered souls and fierce winds seemed to bore through the very spirit of each hunter. They fell to the ground, and stopped breathing... And with their last breath released a scream so misery-filled that it would have awoken the Earth from its great slumber.

The next morning, the hunters awoke, much to their surprise. They each checked their foreheads; no trace of a fever. "Gamor... That was a close thing. We thought we'd lost you," Said Gamor's mother, both crying and instructing the doctor.

"I feel fine. What's up? What's the count? Where is everyone?" Gamor instantly asked, disregarding his mother.

"Stay in bed. I'm tempted to disallow you to continue training," His mother said, with her usual attitude. Gamor, however, did not enjoy that particular comment. He felt stronger, less connected to the world. And right now, disrespect from his mother was not what he wanted to hear. Testing the single arm bond and leg bond that held him so he wouldn't convulse too fiercely in the bed, he pulled at them, both with his free hand and the locked limbs themselves. "you're not getting out of there anytime soon. I made certain that the doctor used his best strap." She said. He laughed.

"You don't know me very well. I'm done, but mostly with you. For the past four years, you have done naught but make fun of my friends, my training, and my livelihood; you have berated and insulted me. For that much I hate you, and I won't suffer another day in your care." With those words, he exerted his full strength on the light leather straps and broke them. The boy momentarily rubbed his arm and leg where they had been tied, but then he got up and walked straight to the door. "If I should return, think better of me." He said. It was the last full sentence he ever said to her for a long time.

The rest of the students, whose parents weren't nearly as degrading and demanding, got up and ready with little event. They met at the Clifftop at the planned time, and there Scothaosta was, in his hood and smoking a long pipe.

"You had the dream... You've all felt the power... You've all been affected by that force of nature that came here yesterday." He began. Each of the hunters affirmed in their own way.

"This means that you have all been chosen. I do not know what has chosen you, or if this simply means that you display remarkable reactions to the beast's power, but it is so. If you should go... Be warned that if you are not prepared threefold for what this beast may do, you will fall. Even now, your success stands upon a needle... Stray even a degree to the wrong direction and you will fail, to the ruin of your families and probably this entire Guild Jurisdiction. Finally... Don't look back. Doing so will be your downfall. Arm yourselves to the teeth before you go, but do not overburden yourselves with treasures; you go to a hunt, not to a move. I bid you luck. I must go, but you should all know the location of my quarters. Forth, and fear no darkness!" And with that, Scothaosta departed.

Jeren was the first to organize them and regain their attention. He and Taka arranged the basic guiding principles for their group, concreting the rules into the ten hunters' minds while standing openly on the Clifftop. They were still all in agreement: this beast must be killed. But how... and when... still stood as questions.

That afternoon, Jeren and Taka made guild cards for themselves and each of their comrades; each of these cards told the name, weapon choice, age, hunter's rank, signature, and top achievements of the hunters who carried them. A special marking indicated similar or paired hunters, who would help one another in unison, combining their unique talents and honed power to take down whatever foes may approach.

The next day, they all registered and set up portfolios with the guild office; they were now officially Hunters, and their clan name was registered as the Tanj Ten. Finally, their legal identities were completed, and the Guild could happily provide them with whatever information and resources they could use. Dark paths lay ahead, perhaps, but with the backing of the biggest corporation in Moga, no goal is impossible.

To be continued in FanFiction:The Art of the Hunt/Season 2/Chapter 2 - Legends of the Sand