The following day was Sixthday and the Hunt was set to begin on Seventhday. The Fighters and Masons of the village were given the day off to prepare and rest. The Workers and Purifiers, on the other hand, were busier than ever scurrying around to make sure that supplies were in order, and everyone was prepared. A war council had also come together to discuss new stratagems and prepare countermeasures for unforeseen dangers. My father was busy with that, of course, so Victor and I spent much of our time pouring over the plan at his house.
“Vick, time for dinner! You and Steve should put those maps down and come eat. Your parents have come to visit.” Lynn called out from the kitchen.
Victor and I hurriedly dusted ourselves off and tried to make ourselves presentable before leaving the library and walking to the kitchen. I was soon disappointed to see that the Clement family had come to visit without their only daughter. Sylvia turned to greet us and, noticing my disappointment, immediately smiled at me in a teasing fashion.
“Sorry Steve. Julia needed to take care of something at home.” She chortled, “But we did bring Eithan along to say hello for her. Say ‘Hi’ Eithan.”
Sylvia Clement was Julia’s mother and the spitting image of her daughter, with a knockout beautiful face and striking red hair. The 18-month-old baby she held in her hands, looking curiously at me, was Eithan Clement, the youngest of the three Clement siblings. His big blue eyes gazed out from a face that was as mischievous as it was cute, and he eventually decided to stick his tongue out at me in lieu of a greeting.
Little punk.
“Eithan! That wasn’t very nice.” Sylvia chastised him with a frown that was undercut with poorly hidden amusement.
I glared in mock anger at the kid before turning and greeting Robert Clement, the father of the family, receiving a warm nod in return. He had always been a man of few words, a trait he didn’t pass down to his kids.
“Alright!” Lynn said, clapping her hands and gesturing at the table. “Let’s eat. You all will need your strength over the next week.”
Dinner was a lot of fun. Lynn and Sylvia spent time chattering about the latest gossip while Victor occasionally interjected with factoids about animals or people that were only somewhat relevant to the scuttlebutt.
I mostly spent my time making funny faces at Eithan and trying to win him over, something I only really started to do when Robert quietly mentioned that Eithan loved potatoes. This prompted me to quietly smuggle him my own portion. The little rascal was fond of that and finally grinned happily at me before digging into the spuds.
The conversation on the other end of the table morphed into a debate between Victor and his mother over whether a Faddle, a little mammal with a stubby tail, brown fur, and black eyes, could be considered cute. Lynn just watched with amusement while the rest of us boys settled into a companionable silence.
The warmth I felt in that moment was punctured by a sudden bout of dread. Depending on how the next week went, I may never have a moment like this again. I looked down at my plate and quietly made a solemn oath to myself.
“I will protect this family. Both of our families.”
…
At the dawn of Seventhday, the entire village was being mobilized. The fastest way to get the whole of the town into position were the southern elevator shafts. These were 8 square holes in the ground accompanied by wrought iron cages attached to chains. These chains were looped around pulleys on Pearlwood arms, mounted on poles, that hung over each shaft.
The cages were normally sitting on the ground but when the time came, people would pack into them. They would then be carefully positioned over the shafts and slowly lowered into a cavern at the bottom by sweaty workmen holding the chain. The people would exit their cage and congregate in the large stone hall below, carved by Mason’s in years past, waiting to be joined by their comrades still above.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
After strapping on our weapons and packs, Ann and I set out as quickly as possible for the elevators while keeping an eye out for the rest of our team. We were quickly joined by Alfred, who muttered greetings at the two of us while looking like he was about to throw up.
“Hey.” I said, under my breath as we searched for the others, “Why the long face? Since when have you been spooked by the prospect of a good Hunt?”
Alfred looked at me like I was an idiot.
“What? Grandma Anna says that a lot will be riding on this Hunt. I would have thought that your dad would have…”
“Don’t worry.” I interrupt, “I have a plan. We’re going to have to operate away from the others and take some risks, but there is a plan.”
His scrunched up little face morphed from anxious to calm as he studied me.
“If you say so.” He nods and points down a narrow alleyway, “Julia and Isaiah are this way.”
We follow him, weaving in between people on the main thoroughfare and slipping into an alleyway. After navigating some backstreets, we eventually emerge and find the last two members of our team on one of the other major streets heading south.
Julia is her same bubbly self, and she smiles and waves energetically as we approach them, her spear stored securely behind her back. The man beside her is much more reserved but he offers a warm “hello” to all of us in a warm and calm voice. His coal dark skin and shaved head are unusual for the village but the children who tried to bully Isaiah Cromwell for being different always received a thorough lesson. His massive frame and war axe made sure of that.
The man was the orphaned son of two warrior comrades my father had and, with no other family remaining, father took him in. He had been a childhood sparring partner and friend of mine, though he stopped living with us when he was able to live on his own a couple of years ago. At 18, he already had a decent house and plenty of training materials, though mom would sometimes nag at him to “hurry up and find a nice girl and get married!”
Isaiah finished greeting everyone and looked at me quizzically. I nodded solemnly at him and began striding briskly southward, with the rest of the group following behind. We quickly file in line behind some of the others and wait for our turn to go down. When it is our turn, we pile into the cage as Workers lift the cage over the yawning abyss, their supernatural strength not enough to make them Fighters but good enough for this difficult job.
When we reached the bottom, we joined the mob of people stirring and jostling in the dark space. I gazed at the exit, the gray fog churning and stubbornly still blocking the view. I imagined all the threats that lurked behind that barrier and the nerves started to eat away at me again. I felt a warm presence in my hand, and I turn to meet Julia’s gaze. Her green eyes are serious but reassuring, radiating warm confidence despite her usual silence. I smile to show her I’m okay, which she reciprocates, and we head to grab some of the last-minute refreshments that some of the Purifiers are passing out.
“All right, what’s the game plan people?” Alfred says when find a moment to huddle together in a corner and strategize. The cavern was, luckily, quite large, and only roughly half our Fighters had come down so far, along with the regular support crew of Explorers and Manipulators (chiefly Purifiers and Masons).
I immediately step forward and whisper:
“We need to go north. I was strategizing with Victor and my father on Fifthday and we think there are untapped valuable items in the northern badlands.”
Things aren’t exactly private in this corner, but I can see that Aurelius’ distinct golden hair is nowhere in sight. His lackies could be listening in, but they could have been listening while we were topside as well. The people closest to us were clearly more interested in their own plans than ours. The real problem was convincing my friends of this plan.
Ann was unsurprised, as she had already been brought on board while Julia and Al looked totally flabbergasted. Isaiah had a slight frown, but that frown was as close to strong disapproval as he got, most of the time. I look keenly at him first:
“My father is on board with this. Both he and Victor agree that this is the best way forward under these circumstances.” I turn my gaze towards Julia when I see Isaiah nod slightly. She still looks concerned but it’s Al who hisses at me first.
“Then both of them are nuts!” Alfred gripes between his teeth, “Gambling like this under these circumstances! My grandmother-“
“Can’t help me unless we do something really remarkable this time.” I interject.
We glare a bit at each other, and he turns to the rest of the group for support, but Isaiah and Ann are silent while Julia looks conflicted. Surprisingly, though, she is the first to speak.
“If Steve and Victor think that this is the best plan, then I am willing to go along with the risk.”
Her voice firmed with conviction near the end of that sentence while the other two nod their agreement. Al looked away and mutters:
“If I get eaten by some new type of demon from the north, make sure the inscription on my tomb reads ‘I told you so, you idiots!’”
I clap him on the shoulder:
“How about we compromise and have it be ‘Here lies a know-it-all loudmouth who was only ever right when he died.’”
That earns a few wry chuckles before a quiet silence as we wait for everyone to be ready. In what seemed like no time, everyone was in position, and I saw my father climb up on a raised platform near the exit of the cave:
“All right people, listen up!” he belts out, “Our strategists predict stiffer resistance from the Manicheas this time so the group we are going to dispatch to scare them off will be larger than usual. Those of you who have been re-assigned to this group already know who you are, so remember to follow us. I will be leading the anti-Manichea group this time. Independent teams, you already know your assignments. Most of you are going south except for the really young ones and a few others.”
I could have sworn that he looked at us and winked, before going back to his speech, “The people who just came down say it’s nearly noon so finish up whatever you are doing and get ready to move. Good luck and good Hunting!”
This prompted a roar from the whole assembly which only served to tighten the knot in my stomach. It was almost time.
We looked at the Mist and, after a few more minutes of bated breath, it undulated violently before steadily receding.