Chapter 12: The Hunter

Long before you were born and I sealed our doom, the Desolate One gave me a mission. A test to prove myself. He offered to bolster my standing forces with his own and enhance my Mystic abilities with his strange form of Dark Elemency which was a mixture of both sorcery and science. In exchange, he asked for my aid in tracking down a lone Elemental Warrior. This Elemental, who somehow operated outside the jurisdiction of any one Ministry, was apparently charged with the protection of the Royal Hamashe line, our ancient rivals. A worthy prize, to be sure. I was not given a name at first, only an alias. Several aliases, actually. Some called him the Golden Knight ... others called him the Conjurer.

“Ow!” screamed Ryan again rather dramatically as he held the wet washcloth to his sore face. “Is this really necessary? Don’t you think we should see a medic?”

“If we did that, we’d have to make a formal report of why we are injured. Do you want to be the one to tell Eramar about this?”

“Hey, look at that!” exclaimed Ryan, pointing at the holovid. “That dude just got nailed with a piledriver! Man, nothing beats Troll Wrestling!”

After the fight and Éclair’s outburst, Leon and Ryan quickly made amends and put the fires out with the fire extinguishing systems. They then decided to spend the rest of the evening in leisurely comfort watching Troll Wrestling on the holovid. So far, it was proving far more entertaining watching Trolls commence violence than inflicting and sustaining violence personally.

Even if I could have put him out a dozen different ways during that fight, Ryan is certainly more impressive than I imagined, thought Leon. And he’s still just a First. It would seem that both he and Éclair possess hidden talents.

As the brutish demonstration continued on the holovid, Ryan cursed in frustration, “What?! You’re going down already! The guy barely even touched you! That’s a dive if I’ve ever seen one! Man, I’m starting to think that you and I could take those posers!”

“If anything, you’ve certainly mastered the art of getting knocked on your ass over and over again and still come out fighting. You’d probably win the fight by tiring them out.”

“Hey, I deserve some credit. I’m not just a brawler, you know. After all, I did pull one over on the ‘all powerful’ Leon.”

Leon smiled, and said, “Alright, alright. I give credit where credit’s due. That was a decent fight. I look forward to our next sparring match. But perhaps when your skills are a little more ... refined. There’s simply nothing so inelegant or ungraceful as a headbutt.” Leon rubbed his throbbing head again with the wet cloth. Even if Ryan had only grazed him, it still felt like an army of Dwarves were building a mining colony in Leon’s brain.

“I may not be as hoity-toity as you, but at least I get the job done.”

Leon hesitantly asserted, “By the way, you should’ve used fire instead of lava.”

It took Ryan a moment to acknowledge the criticism. “What?”

“I hesitate to tell you this as it might give you an unfair advantage in the exams. Plus, instructors usually prefer their students to realize this for themselves more naturally through training. But for now, I’ll just say that you should’ve used fire instead of lava.”

Ryan frowned, biting his lip in puzzlement. Finally, unable to understand the logic of Leon’s assertion, he asked, “Why?”

“Think about it. What fuels fire?”

“Uh, wood?”

Leon groaned, rubbing his forehead. “What else?”

Ryan shrugged. “Oil, I guess.”

“What specifically that pertains to the situation?” Leon asked with an impatient wave of his hand.

Ryan snapped, finally comprehending. “Oh, oxygen, right? Like when you blow on a campfire to keep it going!”

Leon nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. Now, since I was using an air attack, which incorporates a great deal of oxygen, using fire in response was your best option. If the flames were strong enough, the oxygen would have acted as fuel. The winds would’ve been nullified and your own attack could’ve been greatly improved. When engaging in an Elemental duel, you must always be aware of the physics related to your abilities and the abilities of your opponents. How they interact and counteract one another. Fire is naturally superior to wind under most circumstances.”

However, Leon didn’t say that most air users, like himself, would probably know their weaknesses better than their opponents, and would develop strategies accordingly. Victory was never certain. One could take steps to increase one’s advantage in battle by exploiting an enemy’s weakness, but that should never be an excuse for overconfidence. Leon hoped Ryan had commonsense enough to figure that part out for himself.

Ryan sat cross-legged, his mouth crooking to the side. “Wow? That’s really cool. Thanks for the tip.”

Leon doubted Ryan was in a state of mind to remember any of this, but he felt it needed to be said. If anything, it would put Ryan in the attitude for discovering the ins and outs of Elemency on his own.

As Ryan sat back down and resumed watching the holovid, he suddenly got back up excitedly. “Hey! Do the other elements relate to each other like that? Kind of like a rock, paper, scissors kind of thing?

Leon smiled to himself, and said quietly, “Now that would be telling.”

As Leon gave a sideways glance towards Ryan, he noticed a package just behind the boy sitting in the corner. Remarkably, it was one of the few items in the room without scorch marks. Then Leon snapped his fingers and pointed at the package, drawing Ryan’s attention.

“I forgot to mention this, what with our brief ‘trying-to-kill-each-other’ moment, but you did get a package in the mail today. No idea who it was from. Only an unsigned note came with it.”

Ryan looked at the package tiredly, obviously reluctant to move from his comfortable seat to get it. But Ryan, being the type who always enjoyed a present no matter who it came from, finally gave in to his curiosity and soon retrieved the package to examine it more closely.

“Not to seem paranoid,” started Ryan, holding the package out in front of him as if it might bite him. “But the last time I got a present from someone, it kinda tried to kill me. So you’re sure this thing isn’t going to-”

“Don’t worry,” Leon said, his attention slightly fixated on the wrestling match on the holovid. “I have many contacts in Fire Ministry Security. They already checked it out. It’s not anything dangerous, I can assure you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Leon noticed Ryan holding up the note to the light for a better look. “‘This may come in handy during the exams. You’ll know when to use them. From a friend.’ Well, nothing suspicious about that, I suppose.” Leon couldn’t actually tell if Ryan was being sarcastic or not.

Ryan, who was already grinning like a kid at Christmas, tore through the package with obvious glee. Leon, a tad curious himself, turned to see Ryan holding up two small metal disks in each hand.

“Geez. These look ... interesting,” commented Ryan uncertainly.

It took Leon a couple moments, but finally, he recognized the mechanisms. “Well, I’ll be. Haven’t seen one of those in years. Push the little button at the center of each disk, and you’ll understand a bit better.”

Ryan complied, and each disk suddenly expanded in size to become two large round metal shields just wide enough to cover the span of Ryan’s shoulders. “Whoa. That’s kinda cool. They’re ... they’re shields!”

“Yup. Although an older and much more primitive model than the standard Psionic Shields we use at the Ministry nowadays. They don’t do so well against Psionic Weapons, but are at least good for absorbing many different ranged attacks from the elements.”

Ryan sat the shields down on the floor and pressed the center button, returning the shields to their original state. “I don’t get it. Why would someone send me these?”

“It’s probably from a sponsor,” Leon guessed. “Many politicians with ties to the Ministry often like to promote prominent up-and-coming Elementals. Shields like those aren’t really used by the Ministries, but I hear they still get regular use from the militia who guard the nobility. A nobleman probably heard of what you did last year to help stop the war, and wanted to extend his appreciation.”

“Huh,” said Ryan, scratching his head. “Well, I guess they couldn’t hurt. You think they’d really let me take these things with me into the exam?”

Leon shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Low-tech shields like those wouldn’t be much help to you anyway, so I doubt the proctors would think of them as an unfair advantage. Besides, they allow most psionic tools anyway. Though those shields aren’t really based on Psionic Weaponry, they still qualify.”

Ryan tucked the two shields safely in his pocket, and muttered, “Wonder why they sent me two?”

As he made his way back to his seat, Ryan suddenly gasped and rubbed his head in pain. That headbutt probably cost him more than it cost Leon. “You may be right about the headbutt thing. Wonder if this is what a hangover feels like?”

“Not even close,” sniffed Leon, chuckling slightly.

“How would you know? You just turned nineteen, right? You’re still underaged, aren’t you?”

Feeling slightly embarrassed at his admission and unwilling to describe the more unsavory portions of his childhood to Ryan of all people, Leon gave a misleading extrapolation. “Well, I’ve never had the experience personally. But I’ve been in mental contact with several unscrupulous creatures who have.”

“Ah ha!” exclaimed Ryan, lifting a finger in triumph. “So you CAN read minds!”

“I admit, since our bout with Galzar Slithe, my telepathy skills have improved dramatically,” explained Leon. That part at least was not a lie.

Ryan smiled and turned back to the holovid just in time to see a house-sized Troll bash another’s head in with an undersized chair. “You know. It’s been a while since you and I have had a normal conversation like this. Lately, it seems that we’ve just been at each other’s throats.”

“No doubt the aftereffect of our newfound proximity to one another as roommates. People find it easier to quarrel the closer they get to each other.”

“Don’t phrase it like that. You make it sound like we’re dating or something.”

Leon started laughing then. It was the first genuine laugh he had felt in a while. It came from his heart and rose up in his chest like a pleasant aroma from his normally cold soul. “I had forgotten the boundless mirth that comes with your company.”

“Did you just call me a Smurf?” asked Ryan, half-angry and half-confused.

“Just nod your head like an idiot and take the compliment. Trust me, the less you speak, the more intelligent you seem.”

Ryan pouted for a second, but eventually, he complied and nodded his head.

As the minutes dragged on without nary a word, Leon began to wonder why Ryan was being so quiet. It was quite unlike him. However, the youth could not contain himself for long as he sighed wearily and spoke in a dismal voice.

“Éclair’s really mad at us, huh?”

“I believe that is an understatement,” conceded Leon.

“It probably won’t be as bad for you since you didn’t start the fight. But for me ... do you think Éclair will ever speak to me again?”

Leon thought for a moment before replying. For some reason, he wanted to be considerate of Ryan’s feelings at the moment. “I find that a woman’s heart is much more durable than her feelings, especially when it comes to someone as strong as Éclair. Give her some time and I’m sure the two of you will be thick as thieves before you know it.

“Wow,” said Ryan in astonishment. “I actually feel better. Imagine that. Leon Lurranna made me feel better.”

“No doubt the universe will soon end as a result,” Leon joked.

“You know, you’re being awfully nice, dude ... especially considering that I torched your room.”

“Don’t get used to it. You’re still paying for the damages rendered.”

Ryan chuckled then, and that was when Leon wondered if this was what it felt like to have a friend.

“You know, Leon,” said Ryan with his head lowered, as if he was about to say something painful. “I still don’t know what went down between you and Éclair, and I don’t really want to know. But if you ever do anything to hurt her...” A dark form of malice had crept back into Ryan’s voice. “I won’t forgive you.”

Instead of responding in kind, Leon said with a smirk, “At least you’re honest.”

“Sorry,” said Ryan, immediately reverting back to his laidback persona. “It’s just the way I am.”

“It’s fine. I find it a breath of fresh air. A pleasant reprieve from the tediousness of life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only that unlike you, most people go to exuberant lengths to hide their true feelings and motivations. The lies and deceptions in this world are boundless. I often grow weary of all the manipulations and schemes of others. But with you, it’s simple. You are what you are and you don’t apologize for it. I think that’s the real reason I wanted you to be my roommate.”

“Hmm,” said Ryan as he stroked his chin in an attempt to feign intelligence.

“In any case, you are right. Éclair does deserve an apology from me. I was rather discourteous to her earlier. And I recall saying some unwholesome things about her to you as well.”

“Yeah, you can be a real jerk when you want to be,” commented Ryan.

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Leon in a melancholy voice. “Frankly, I don’t get what that girl sees in me. She deserves much better in terms of companionship.”

Ryan looked guilty then for some reason. Maybe it was because of his insult earlier. Then Ryan said, “Well, at least you own up to your faults, unlike a guy like me who just tries to brush everything off like it’s no big deal. You treat things seriously, and girls love that kind of thing in a guy. You may be kinda cold sometimes, but I can tell you’re not that bad. And I think Éclair can tell, too.”

For some unknown reason, it felt good getting praise from Ryan. Leon noted that he had better redouble his efforts to control his emotions. He knew all too well the fate of a Lurranna who was not master of his own feelings.

Both Ryan and Leon forced themselves to look around the room for a moment. Scorch marks and dents littered the walls and ceilings, no doubt the result of Ryan’s unnecessary and flashy maneuvers earlier. However, Leon was far from distraught. In fact, for some reason, he felt better than he did in weeks.

I shall have to go to Éclair and make amends before the exams begin. God willing, perhaps she’ll forgive me.

“Hey, what’s that thing? That creepy black rose. I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before,” said Ryan, pointing at the black rose that lay on a shelf above Leon’s bed.

“Ah. That is a story for another time,” replied Leon with a sad smile.

It was a smelly bar. A Werewolf would know. Many different scents wafted up to his well-attuned nose: alcohol, sweat, pipe smoke, and the occasional whiffs of urine, vomit, and unattended blood stains from barroom brawls. All the differing smells blended together into a hodgepodge of ceaseless distractions. Good thing the hunter was no longer a pup prone to distractions.

Dressed in a brown traveling cloak that hid him from head to foot, the hunter looked like nothing less than a creature out of some Grimm Brothers’ tale. That was fine. After all, what was important for humans hardly mattered to wolves. For a wolf, the only thing that mattered was the hunt. On a hunt, the only thing that mattered was the prey. Out of necessity, the old hunter had been forced to this smelly bar in order to sniff out his prey.

As the cloaked hunter walked through the threshold of the smelly bar, he made no effort to conceal his presence. Why should he? His prey was not at the bar. The only thing at the bar was the means of picking up the trail of his prey. Being a wizened old wolf well-versed in the art of tracking, the hunter knew all too well what needed to be done here in this smelly bar.

His brown cloak swayed back and forth as he made his way through the barroom. Not much of note besides the dim lights, the mismatched tables, and the cheap, floating chandelier just above the bar table. The hovering chandelier, though decidedly inexpensive, seemed out of place for such a rough establishment. A queer smell emanated from the irksome contraption as well, but the hunter was more concerned with the other occupants of the bar to pay much notice.

The local hoodlums at their gambling tables had finally taken note of him. They eyed him with unrestrained aggression. Creatures of all shapes and sizes. There were Harpies and Kappa, Minotaurs and Minoboars. Even a few humans and Elves dotted their ranks. The scum of the universe had no limits as far as diversity of races went. The Werewolf knew this fact well.

The cloaked hunter slowly approached the barkeep of the smelly bar, a Centaur with a dirty, brown scraggly beard and a lazy eye paired with a bulging one. His upper human half wore a brown jerkin, though the vest was unbuttoned to reveal his fat potbelly. His four horse hoofs on the brown-furred lower half beat the floor anxiously as he sensed the presence of a predator drawing close to him.

He is wise to be wary. No doubt his years have taught him as much, thought the hunter idly.

“What’ll you have, stranger?” asked the Centaur.

“This one does not seek a beverage,” said the hunter in a quiet voice.

Most thought it was eerie the way he spoke, but honestly, it was only because he preferred not to raise his voice too loudly if he could help it. Years of living on the prowl had taught him that; plus, his ears were as sensitive as his nose, so he generally preferred a quiet environment to an uproarious one.