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The Hunter

Sayhas brushed a thorny plant aside with a stick, hoping that it wouldn’t scratch his new duster. Technically it wasn’t new, but it was hidden at the bottom of his trunk and he had found it a few days ago, making it basically brand new, albeit with permanent creases in the fabric.

 He snapped his arm away from the reach of one thorn only to find his other sleeve snagged onto another. He muttered to himself, sending curses over to Mizukana for sending him on this fool's errand. 

“You’re muttering and that probably means your saying bad things about me,” Mizu said from behind Sayhas. 

He was too busy counting the tears in his duster to respond to her. Five. There were five so far. Three on his legs, one on his sleeve and the last by his shoulder. 

He scaled a fallen tree and pulled Mizu up. It was weird to grab Mizu’s arm; she normally wore gauntlets but she didn’t today. 

Sayhas chewed his lips as he stared out into the forest. Everything looked the same. And worst of all, he had no idea what a fox crown sounded like either. 

“It’s polite to involve yourself in mildly stimulating conversation when alone with someone else, especial⁠—”

“Can’t you do the thing you did when we were searching for iron gloves?” 

“No, I’d need to have the alchemical signature of it and devise an appropriate pulse generator to send the signal and in order to do that, I’d⁠—”

“Please shut up.” Oh no Sayhas thought she’s not going to stop!

Even while turned away from Mizu, Sayhas could feel her smirk. “Well, hurry up and find it, then I’ll shut up. Anyways, I’d need a batch of⁠—”

“Are they fireproof?” Sayhas reached into one of his dusters many pockets.

“What? I don’t… No. Don’t go burning down the forest please.”

Sayhas groaned. Just a dash of pink, that’s all he needed to find. Something caught his eyes and he smiled, “Found it.” the black leather of his duster groaned as he crouched to caress the delicate pink petals. 

“And then I’d… Seriously?” Mizu crouched next to him, idly picking a few leaves off of her fiery coloured hair. “This… this is a… pink-petaled thistle!” She faced him, hazel eyes wide, “It’s a pink-petaled thistle!” She muttered to herself, Sayhas could only pick out a few words, “If it…wait... doesn’t…sense… think... whatever…”

Sayhas admired the flower: It had such delicate features, and yet it still survived in such a hostile environment. Only the toughest of animals dared to venture here, but this tiny pink-pedalled thistle didn’t seem to care. A shame it was going to be plucked and accidentally transmogrified into a pile of green goo.

He reached down to touch the thistle when Mizu slapped his hand. Hard. “Get your grubby hands off my plant.” 

“My hands aren’t grubby.”

She turned on him and raised her hand threateningly, “Go bother the others, I’m busy.” She made shooing motions before turning back to the rare flower.

“I’ll go back—”

“Yes yes,” she replied without looking, “go play.” She sniffed disdainfully. “You stink, you should take a shower.”

“I—”

“Why are you still here? Stop bothering me,” she snapped, glaring at him.

Sayhas threw his hands in the air and stood up. Finding the rest would be easy, they hadn’t gone far enough that Sayhas wasn’t able to hear them anymore. He made a b-line for the others, travelling slowly to avoid unwanted thorns. 

He failed miserably. By the time he got within viewing distance of the opening, he had three more tears in the duster. Fed up, Sayhas placed his hand to the side, palm facing upwards. His forearm hummed and the air above coiled into itself. The air and his forearm murmured and groaned, like floodgates bursting open. A flash of light. An old, fabled scythe fell into his hands. A purely aesthetic white aura hugged the entirety of the weapon. It was his best scythe. The Phantom Touch. The Edge of Ethereal Light. Maaier Speal of the ten god aspects—the strongest aspects ever manifested. Although plain in appearance, especially when compared to the other ten god aspects such as Claimoh Solais and Aegis Atilla, Maaier Speal made no attempt to hide its raw power. Every time Sayhas wielded it, he felt invincible. To Sayhas’ trained ears, Maaier Speal rang harmoniously in his ears. He couldn’t describe how lucky he was if his life depended on it.

Seven ethereal scythes shot out of Maaier Speal, severing the branches in front of him. Once the deed was done, he dismissed Maaier Speal and walked comfortably down the makeshift path. Silently, he hoped a bear would attack Mizu for sending him on this ordeal. 

“Who’s idea was this?” Someone shouted surily. Sayhas was close enough to easily make out the voices without straining too hard. That was Taed, a lightly built spear wielder. He had long black hair that always drifted over his eyes no matter how hard he tried to keep it away. 

“Dismas’,” Kirin responded with equal volume  Kirin was a young man, barely through adolescence. He shouldn’t be here. 

“Dismas, I’ll kill you,” Taed said bluntly, “once I get my hands—Gah.”

Sayhas brushed away the last fern and stepped into the clearing to be greeted with Taed, flying towards him. Taed crashed into him, knocking the wind out of him. Sayhas smiled, somebody was going to die. He threw Taed off of him like a rag doll. His forearm began to hum as he summoned a scythe. He took his time, relishing Taed’s widening eyes.

“Sorry Sayhas, the beast threw me,” Taed said, glancing at the white light coagulating above Sayhas’ hand. “I’ll buy you a beer,” he promised, shaking his sweaty black hair from his eyes as he backed off.

“Chains be blessed,” Sayhas swore, ignoring Taed. “it’s only one mammoth.” 

The scythe fell into his hands. It was the colour of the ocean. Sayhas raised it high, like an executioner. The scythe began to thrum. He brought it down. A gentle flicker rippled outwards, rolling like a saw blade.  

“Wait!” Taed screamed, “don’t kill it!”

A wave of air knocked Sayhas down. He scrambled to his feet, to see Oldum, the only shield wielder capable of fighting him. Biceps the size of Sayhas’ legs, Oldum had raised an ovular shield, covering all but his face. Sayhas gave Oldum a death glare. Oldum yawned, scratching his short, hair with a huge hand. “I thought Kana was distracting you.” 

“She got distracted by flowers.”

Sayhas studied Oldums defence, trying to find an easy way through. He flicked his eyes towards the mammoth. Taed was already back in the fray, poking the mammoth’s sides. Kirin was locked in combat with its tusks. It was a sorry sight. Sayhas wanted to go back to his tent and sleep. 

His scythe began to vibrate, humming viciously along with his arm.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Oldum’s watching.”

He threw a sidelong glance at the owner of the voice. “Hey, boss.”

Sayhas was about Clive’s height but every time he stood next to Clive, he felt like a child looking up at a king. Clive seemed content to stay silent, twirling a chain around his finger while watching the fight.

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“Can we speed this up?” Sayhas tugged on his silver bracelet.

“I’m sure we can,” Clive said bluntly.

Sayhas turned to face Clive, “Can I speed this up?”

“We all know that you can provoke and harvest an animal soul.” Clive stopped twirling the chain, catching it with his gloved hands. “If we’d needed efficiency, I’d have called for you.” His boss’s rugged grey eyes bore into him. “But the reason why we are here is to see whether they can do it. Believe in—”

“Cinders!”

Sayhas shifted his eyes. The mammoth had knocked one of Kirin’s blades out of his hands, and the sword was now flying towards Clive. Scythe in hand, Sayhas slashed downwards, pinching the blade into the ground. “You were saying?”

Clive smiled. “Believe in them. Just like I believed that you’d protect me. “ 

“That’s… that’s…”

“Look at Kirin. Can you honestly say you weren’t like him? Can you honestly say that you were born the scythe-wielding maniac you are today? That there was no in-between and growth? He needs time. So be patient. Play nice, Sayhas.”

“Fine.”

“That being said, Kirin’s swordplay is horrendous, isn't it?” 

Sayhas nodded.

“Good.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.”

Sayhas narrowed his eyes at Clive, who smirked in return. “Hmm. Actually, if I needed efficiency, I’d have called for Hysiedies. Oh. Speak of the devil.”

He heard a light tapping of a staff. Sayhas turned around searching for the false, denounced priest. Hysiedies was an oddity, favouring a bladeless, self-made weapon—a staff—rather than his Blade Aspect. To this day, Sayhas still didn’t know what Hysiedies’ Aspect was. 

“Can we put the poor beast out of its misery?” Hysiedies said, joining into the conversation. “Look at it. Can't you feel the anguish, the agony? Put the poor beast down.”  He put his hands behind his back and paced, brushing the lush grass with his staff. 

“You of all people should know why they're harassing it,” Clive said.

Hysiedies flushed, shrinking deeper into his red robes, “You don’t even know if it has a soul,” he protested.

“We’re in a splinter of Yggdrasil. By the chains old man, it’s practically a guarantee that it’s developed a soul of some sort,” Sayhas said.

“All the more reason to not kill it. This is one in a thousa—”

“Did you make your staff with that attitude?” Clive interjected.

A cool breeze stirred, buffeting Sayhas’ duster. “Well, burn me to cinders, they finally did it.”

The mammoth reared up, tossing Kirin aside. Red blood squirted out of its wounds dyeing the grass red. It pounded on the floor repeatedly, letting out an anguished groan. With each pound, the ground froze and cracked. It raised it’s paws up to its eyes and smashed down a final time, releasing a wave of icy blue.

Sayhas tensed his muscles, preparing to jump when a chain grabbed his legs and pulled him down. The wave passed through him, sending chills down his back. A clean layer of ice formed up to his ankles, holding him in place. 

He shot Clive a look. 

“Believe,” Clive said, retracting the chain.

The mammoth had frozen the area in front of him, only Clive, Hysiedies and himself were caught in the blast. No, Hysiedies had dodged. 

“Under its right ear,” Sayhas grumbled loudly, “go get it and let’s go home.”

“Make it quick,” Hysiedies called from beside Sayhas. 

“Why don’t you do it?” Sayhas asked, glaring at him.

“Me?” he said, trying not to slip on the sheet of ice, “I could never bring myself to hurt such an elegant beast. Especially not one that’s developed a soul.” He slipped on the ice, barely catching himself by punching through the ice with his staff. “Fractos, why must you scorn me so.” Hysiedies slammed his staff again, a ring of flame erupted outwards and melted the ice.

“Oi,” Sayhas slashed the dry ground in front of Hysiedies, “do me.”

“Do it yourself.” 

“No, Clive’ll be mad.” 

“Not my problem,” he said turning away.

“Burn you.”

“Not nice to swear in front of a priest.”  Hysiedies wagged his finger at him. 

“You literally just—”

“Don’t talk back to your elders.”

Suddenly, the air got colder. Like a breeze you’d find at the top of a snowy mountain. Snowflakes formed, causing the air to shimmer. 

The area around the mammoth was a battlefield of ice. Erratic icicles jutted out of the ground like stakes. Dismas and Taed weaved between them with surprising agility, wielding short swords to accommodate for the narrow battlefield. Together, the two distracted the mammoth. Kirin dug at its flesh while sitting atop of it. “Got it!” Kirin called, holding up a blue, crystalline sphere the size of his fist.

“Alright.” Dismas threw away his sword, it vanished into light before hitting the ground. He summoned a large glaive. The glaive was beautiful. It had a golden sheen that accented it’s artful grooves and embroidery. The sound it gave off was absolutely melodious. Dismas smiled, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

He winded the glaive, pointing the blade behind him. Then, he leaned forward and flung his wiry body around, whipping the glaive in a wide arc. The air seemed to crack under his swing as a slashing shockwave cut into the air. 

The mammoth roared; a large wall of ice blocked Dismas’ attack, dispersing the shockwave. Then it roared again, cracking the wall and the icicles, sending sharp flinders of ice in all directions. Before Sayhas could react, a white light bathed everything, blinding Sayhas for a moment. Oldum was facing the mammoth and had a white shield. A thin translucent barrier flickered lightly around the mammoth's killzone. The projectiles fell harmlessly to the floor.

Another Soul? Sayhas thought, raising his eyebrows. 

“Sayhas.” Dismas called holding his glaive in a battle-ready stance. “Where’s the top of the soul?”

Sayhas listened close, “Two hand-spans below its left eye, maybe three.”

“Alright. Taed, stun it,” Dismas said, closing the eye with a scar below it.

The mammoth was not inclined to wait. Ice crawled around the surface of its skin creating a layer of armour. It spat a large chunk of ice at Oldum. Oldum didn’t need to deflect it. Kirin sliced it into negligible pieces. The boy rushed the mammoth, batting aside shards of ice. But Kirin was quickly overwhelmed, a blue beam froze his sword forcing him to drop it. 

The slight distraction Kirin caused was enough. Taed had already called on a spear. He thrust it forward, letting out a concussive blast. If Oldum weren’t bracing Taed, he would have flown backwards. The mammoth, distracted by Kirin was unable to defend. It stumbled, nearly toppling over.

Dismas held his glaive high. A heavy thrumming filled Sayhas’ ears. He felt his eyes widen. Resonance? Dismas slashed horizontally. A wave of black? A split in the world? A dimension breaking slash; that’s the only way to do Dismas justice. The mammoths top half slide right off. Along with the top half of all the trees in a line.

The glaive disappeared, vanishing as it fell out of Dismas’ hands. His legs gave way and he fell backwards. Sayhas slashed at the ice at his feet with a red scythe. It melted instantly. With his free hand he used the ethereal extension of another scythe to lurch himself forward like an arrow. As he travelled he dropped both scythes and caught Dismas. He let Dismas’ head rest on his chest.

“Good job kid.” He said looking down. Dismas was completely unconscious. 

Sayhas smiled. Dismas probably didn’t remember it but they were part of the same mercenary corp. He remembered a little Dismas, trying to fight with an oversized glaive, wailing whenever he got hit hard. Dismas had grown into a splendid man. Sayhas felt like a proud father. 

Clive was right, he had to be patient and let people grow up by themselves.

“Good catch, Sayhas,” Hyseidies called, motioning for Sayhas to give him the body. Hysiedies thanked Sayhas and took Dismas and rest him on the floor. The false priest put his hand on his forehead. “You’ll be alright.” Hysiedies put the tip off his staff on Dismas’ chest. He looked up, “Go away. You’re a bad omen.”

Sayhas sighed but complied. “No experiments please.” 

“No promises,” Hysiedies replied without looking up. 

Sayhas shook his head. He wanted to go bug Mizu but didn’t want to disturb her, especially when she was busy. The last time he distracted her when she was working, she held a grudge for the rest of the moon. He shuddered, thinking about it. She’ll find him eventually. 

Instead, he tilted his head towards the mammoth carcass. Kirin was almost done digging out the soul with his sword. It was at least three times bigger than the other one they found. 

“Hurry up Kirin,” Taed bellowed, “You’re going to get yelled at.”

Kirin slashed at the floor in front of Taed, “Cinders! Do you ever shut—”

“No swearing kid,” Taed interrupted.

Taed tried to continue put Kirin spoke over him, “You’re the only one who’s yelled at me. Just let me work.”

Taed stayed quiet for all of five seconds, “Is it that hard?”

Kirin threw his sword at Taed who yelped and jumped away. “I got it,” he hissed, raising it up. The soul was the size of a watermelon, a substantial increase. “Happy now?” The soul caught the light of the sunset in a perfect angle, such that rays of blinding light tumbled out. Sayhas shielded his eyes.

 Sayhas heard someone groan, “Kids.”

“Put it down, Kirin,” another pleaded. 

Suddenly, Sayhas heard something between a 12 year-old-boys squeal and a banshee’s shriek. “Dragon!”

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