Crosse lead the way down the stairs surrounding the tree. He noticed Mike looking out towards where Lady Ina was still working in the clearing whenever they were on the right side of the tree for it to be in view. At the third level down he couldn’t help but ask.

“So what do you see her doing out there,” he asked as Ina was once again obscured by the trunk of the tree.

Mike’s voice came back thoughtful. “I honestly have no idea, she is working with a lot of Magic, not as much as I think she used in the fight, but more actually coming from her. She seems to be finally coming close to actually running out, it has been dimming a bit. She was practically a beacon when we came out earlier,” Mike explained.

The boy's ability to see mana was incredible. Crosse was certain that it was how he had seen the attacks of the gold-sap ooze coming, allowing him to dodge it as he had. Then to predict its final attack.

Crosse didn’t ask again as they made their way down to the lodge. He noticed that Mike wasn’t the only young man who was looking out at Ina from the trees. He smirked to himself, Lady Ina had been known to take a hunter in for a night on occasion. He had not done so himself, though she had offered before.

Many men saw her as beautiful and powerful. A good combination to be sure, but he had seen something in speaking to her that few of the young hunters appreciated fully. Lady Ina was old. Old in a way that most Humans didn’t get the chance to appreciate. In contradiction to what he had told Mike, he actually had asked her how old she was when she had made that offer.

She had told him only on the condition that he did not tell anyone else, and that he discourages anyone who asked him from asking her as she didn't like thinking about it. Eight-hundred and sixty-one she had said. That had been ten years ago.

So Crosse smirked at the boys who watched her in the field because boys is all they would ever be to her. As he reached the next level he knew that the level below was the hunters’ lodge, and he knew what was waiting for him there.

The wry feeling of humour that had bubbled to the surface again was dragged under the understanding of reality once more. “We are almost there, do not interfere with anything that goes on unless you are directly addressed. I have seen you fight, and while you have your talents, you are not a match for anyone in the lodge, especially the elders. Never assume an old warrior to be weak,” Crosse said giving the boy a piece of wisdom that his father had taught him as a child.

Mike nodded looking contemplative as if what Crosse had said made perfect sense. Crosse just turned and made his way down the last flight of stairs to the hunters' lodge. He had come up past the lodge on his way to retrieve Mike, and it was much the same now as it had been then.

The walkway that surrounded the lodge was larger wider and had a taller railing, though the railing was more decorative than the solid wood chest-high walls of the other levels, broken into posts that each resembled an individual tree trunk with only two branches stretching out to connect to the branches of the trunks to its sides to make an ornate railing that circled the whole platform.

The inside wall of the level was also different from those above, as it was not peppered with openings to alcoves for living quarters as they were. Instead, it was carved with intricate an intricate mural. Crosse glanced over his shoulder to see Mike, whose gave had been drawn to the mural carved wall his eyebrows raised in impressed evaluation.

Crosse continued his walk around the wider walkway, which on this level had seats and tables grown directly out of it in places.

“What happens when it rains?” Mike asked, coming up beside Crosse.

Crosse looked at him, with an eyebrow raised, an interesting first question. “Lady Ina tends to know when rain is coming before the rest of us do, and if it is she usually makes a roof for this level by extending out the walkway of the level above, which she does to a smaller extent on all of the trees right at the top whenever she feels it is going to rain with any actual force. If it is just a drizzle, then we get wet and suck it up,” Crosse explained, causing Mike to chuckle.

They rounded the trunk and Mike who was standing on the inside kept his eyes on the wall, inspecting the mural, Crosse didn’t look as he had seen it enough to have most of it memorized. A history of the hunters of Inasholme, added to by each new hunter as they became a full hunter, again when they became a senior hunter, and lastly when they became an elder hunter. Each advance in rank giving the hunter a larger area to work with, the first only letting them carve a piece just larger than their palm.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The murals didn’t circle the entire wall, only making it about three-quarters of the way around the wall, Crosse had wondered what they would do if they ran out of room when he was an apprentice, but his father who had been his master had assured him that they wouldn’t. Now he knew that it had happened before, about fifty years ago.

The hunters had gone to Ina to ask for some assistance and she had offhandedly condensed the whole mural into the front half of the wall without damaging any of its artwork in the slightest. Which served to both make the mural look even more impressive to the later generations and give them more room to work with.

They eventually came around to the entrance of the lodge proper. An archway of carved wood that didn’t contain the same gild-leaf curtain that the entryways to the quarters did. It looked in on a wide-open space filled with tables at the far side of which was a long semi-circular bar that took a bite out of the floor space.

Crosse walked through the familiar setting to the longest table in the room, set into the middle and surrounded by twelve more impressive chairs than the rest. For the moment, this was the only table that was occupied. Crosse wanted to look back to see Mike’s reaction to the room, but his attention was too focused on the occupants of the long table.

There were eight people seated at the table, all focused towards the far end from the door. The nearest to him was Gonal, who still had the red eyes of someone who hadn’t slept well, though was otherwise well put together. The six occupied seats to the sides of the table were filled with elders. It was theorized by hunters new and senior that there was a hierarchy among the elders, but if there was it was not known to him.

The only obvious hierarchy was which one of them was in charge. At the head of the table, facing the entrance sat Cecilia. Crosse knew her well, she had been one of his mother's best friends. She was old, but as Crosse had told Mike, that was no indicator for her physical or mental ability. She had iron-grey hair, and though she had wrinkles surrounding her golden-brown eyes, they didn’t detract at all from her stern expression. She was whipcord thin, as she had always been.

Crosse had been trained by her more recently than any other hunters had, and he knew first hand that she was stronger than he was. That wasn’t the reason she sat at the head of the table though. She was also the oldest, wisest, and smartest of their number.

“Sit, both of you,” she said, her eyes flicking to include Mike in the statement. Her voice wasn’t hard, it was sad.

Crosse obeyed, taking the seat at the opposite end of the table to Cecilia, and Mike sat in the chair to his right, seemingly having understood the simple phrase.

“You know why you have been called here Crosse?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.

Crosse nodded, “to report on the events surrounding the death of hunter Connor, and to be judged if I was responsible for his death,” Crosse said stiffly.

Cecilia’s eyes closed and she inhaled a deep breath through her nose, resting her elbows on the table and making and lacing her long fingers together. “Yes and no, in that order. We do wish to hear what happened to Connor in more detail, but we do not blame you for his death, Crosse,” she said.

Crosse was taken aback, he had been sure they would agree that his reckless choice had resulted in Connor's death. He sat there with a shocked expression for a moment until one of the other elders spoke up.

"You didn't kill the boy, dolt, from what Gonal has told us you made a call and he agreed with it, you both made a choice, sadly you didn't have all of the information," Game, a large man who had not shrunk with age said from his bearded face in a characteristic scowl, though it seems more bitter at the world than with Crosse specifically.

"Indeed," Cecilia said from the head of the table, "You are in no way to blame for the presence of a beast far more powerful than you were anticipating, now, please tell us what happened on that hunt in greater detail. All of the information we have has come from hunter Gonal, and he got it second hand from you. It would also be polite of you to introduce us to your new friend, his presence as your shadow has not gone unnoticed today," she continued raising her eyebrow towards Mike.

Crosse nodded, still processing the words Game had said. "This is Mike, I encountered him after I split from Connor, he had been attacked by the peryton that I told Gonal of, he had managed to survive but had little means to bring the creature down. I assured him with an arrow that brought the Beast to the ground and he killed it with a knife," Crosse explained calmly, using a story that he had decided to conceal Mike's abilities, which he agreed with Mike should be kept under wraps, for now.

Cecilia’s evaluating look at Mike changed to one that was slightly impressed, “Not an easy feat, boy, do you intend to join the hunters of Inasholme then?” She asked Mike directly.

Crosse looked to Mike, who seemed to have understood the question at least partially, but was hesitant to reply. “Mike is in a bit of an odd circumstance. His memories have been altered by a rather high ranking High Elf, according to Lady Ina. The most inconvenient side effect of which is that he doesn’t speak Manish very well,” he said to Cecilia and then switched to Gildaic to talk to Mike.

“This is Cecilia, she is the eldest hunter,” he said nodding in her direction respectfully, “You can speak to her in GIldaic, she will understand, she speaks it about as well as you speak Manish,” he said.

Mike smiled rather nervously before he looked to Cecilia, “Thank you? I couldn’t have done it alone, though. unfortunately due to my history with the High Elves Lady Ina has asked that I not remain in the village for longer than a month. So I am afraid that I may not be able to join your hunters,” Mike replied in Gildaic, sounding rather sincerely disappointed about his inability to stay.

Cecilia raised an eyebrow and looked to Crosse, “Is that so? Then why does he carry Connor’s bow? I had assumed that you intended to apprentice him, Crosse? Well more on that later then, Crosse, could you tell us what happened from the beginning?” Cecilia asked, leaning back into her chair and taking her elbows from the table.

Crosse nodded and began.