057 - The Great Hunt
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Magnus contemplated the empty road from within his green stone formation. Three days had passed since he'd descended the north slopes of the Horn to the area where the second of the three beasts was said to prowl.
The Shadow Bull, right? That's what the scholar looking fellow up in the hunters camp had called it. A mysterious vanishing bull. The hunters had said little about it, few claimed to have seen the beast itself.
Magnus had wandered up and down the paths, even going so far as to stalk through a number of farms and pastures, looking for any sign of a strange bull. With no real idea of what he ought to be looking for exactly, or where he might be able to find the creature, Magnus decided to look for the hunters, follow them around and see if he couldn't snatch a second creature in the middle of of a hunt.
But . .
Magnus soon found much to his dismay that the hunters didn't seem to have much more of a clue than himself. He'd followed them for a while, thinking maybe to slip back amongst them on the sly, only abandoning the idea when he realized that they might be a little weary of an unknown face who'd only just carried off a Griffon.
And there was something else eating away at Magnus, an inescapable feeling that someone was watching him . . Magnus shivered, looking about the path, peering into the shadows of the trees and undergrowth. Every now and again he'd get the feeling that there was someone or something out there, hidden eyes watching his every move.
He'd tried everything he could think of; doubling back on his own path, hiding within a ditch for hours, even setting up a formation in the middle of a barren hill. Nothing. Every time, nothing, just the feeling that someone was looking right through him.
Finally, after not being able to discover the slightest trace of anything or anyone actually following him, Magnus dismissed it, put the feeling out of his mind. Whatever it is, he thought, I can not do anything about it right now.
After eating the Griffon Magnus had felt stronger, swifter, able to run and jump with more power and speed than ever before. Whatever it was, he was sure he could deal with it.
So, after thinking it through Magnus came to a simple conclusion. He couldn't find the Shadow Bull by himself, but he also couldn't mix in with the hunters; if he just followed them from a distance he would always be a step behind. No problem!
All he had to do was go ahead of them, find a spot about a days travel ahead where they'd be likely to stop and make camp and set a formation. Then, he could just sit and wait. The hunters would come, make camp around him and he would be in the middle of them all, able to hear their plans without being discovered.
Brilliant! He'd found a likely spot on the road and all he had to do now was wait. Overhead the sun slowly churned through the sky, birds wheeled and sung carefree, and Magnus sat, head resting on his arm, watching the empty road.
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Kujata finally stopped pacing through the bones and general debris in the shrine, sitting unhappily in her chair by the shrine window.
"Not possible . . . not possible . . but it happened! Worst case scenario . . worst case . . no . . not Magnus? No. No, no, no. Definitely not."
The bell sat silent on the sill. She peered through the brass telescope. Nothing.
"Arrgh!" Kujata leapt up and paced up and down, pulling her hair and muttering "you know what it felt like . . you know what it felt like . . but its not possible . ."
After half a day of hesitation Kujata finally seemed to come to a course of action. "I was going to do this anyway . . no harm in checking up on him now, right? It's a bit early, but Magnus can probably handle the Ether . ."
From beneath the chair she produced a stubby white candle. She placed it carefully on the window sill and sent out a single thread of Vigour from her fingertip.
The world seemed to hang in limbo for an instant, a greasy texture filled the air, as if a lightning bolt was about to burst through the skies. Carefully, she raised her other hand, sending a second thread of vigour out. She had a hand on either side now, the red threads sparking from her fingertips into precisely the opposite sides of the thick candle.
A bead of sweat formed and rolled down her brow, Kujata did not dare look away or so much as flinch. The feeling she gave off was that of a surgeon in the midst of a delicate operation. With infinite care, Kujata begun to draw her fingers apart, widening the gap between them.
As she drew her hands further apart the candle shuddered. At first it seemed like it was only vibrating fiercely. Then, under her inexorable gaze, the candle begun to separate. Slowly, not daring to move too fast or too slow, Kujata kept seperating her hand, pulling apart the threads and the candle until on the window sill there was not one, but two identical stubby white candles.
Identical in every conceivable way, down to the light scratches on the wax, down to the angle at which the wick hung from the candle top.
Kujata breathed a sigh of relief, scratching one of the candles with her fingernail. The moment she did so an identical mark appeared in the same place on the twin candle.
"Right. Sif!" Kujata called out. The great white wolf came bounding up to the window from out in the shrine courtyard. Kujata took one of the candles and wrapped it in a filthy cloth, tossing it to Sif. "Take this to Magnus! That's a good mutt!"
In an instant the great wolf gathered up the candle within it maw and sped off into the forest.
Kujata leaned back on the chair, her eyes focused firmly on the silent bell.
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