"Didn't you say this was a shortcut? We've been in the woods for weeks on end." I voice out, standing stiffly as I looked at my teacher in the eye.

Because my body was killing me. Training your muscles to the point where I immediately collapse after sprinting through the thick foliage, soaring below the canopy the entire day, and have to practically crawl around the entire night.

"You said we would save time." I continued, my pearly eyes boring into his.

"I did not lie." He responded, without as much as a blink, as he then stared into the distance.

"Of course, because lying would be wrong." I chided, a deadpan look on my deathly pale face.

"Sprinting through the main road would force us to go through more towns."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Before learning to live with other humans, an aspiring exorcist like you must learn to live here. As I've said many times before."

"Do exorcists really spend so much time in the wild? I'd have assumed demons would like to be where the delicious humans are."

"That is correct. Demons thrive where evil festers fastest."

"..."

Lord, give me the strength.

I understand where he's coming from, I really do. But I'm human too! I long for the embrace of a calm respite.

"However, it is not only demons that we must look out for. If you want to learn to banish demons, you must slay beasts. Clearing out dangerous monster populations are part of the Church's work as public service."

He gets up from the stump he is sitting on, grabbing some flint from the ground as the sun slowly descended into the horizon.

"You will need to start from the bottom, and that includes public services as such."

"I see." I was a bit disappointed, I wanted to bash some horned foreheads together as soon as possible.

From how he's talking about demons, I must have really lucked out that night, and probably would have died immediately.

"No, you don't. Let me put it in perspective then, what do you think is more dangerous? A man, or a beast?"

I can see where this is going.

"Man?"

"And why do you think so?"

"Intellect, sentience, and ingenuity."

"In other words?"

"Sentience, the ability to realize feelings, the intellect to act upon them, and the ingenuity to do so in many different ways?"

I remember.

Faintly so, but I remember dying pretty later on in life. Even still, I'd had my own opinions and stances, I was a bit of a scatterbrain, and my mind would wander just like this.

Comparing man to beast, the innate hubris of human nature, built upon centuries upon centuries of conquest, of taking and taking from others as much as we want.

"A beast hunts and kills, to fill their stomach and live another day. Yet, no beast could ever comprehend pillaging, taking riches in excess, killing, impaling, murdering, torturing, for the sole reason than wanting more than what is already had." Georges droned, staring at the newly lit flame, the hungering flame reflected within his golden eyes, piercing deep within them.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

In reality, man was no more than a smarter beast. So intelligent, so aware... yet so blind.

Creating weapons, tools whose only purpose was to kill as efficiently as possible, to take as much as possible.

"Capacity for sin." I reply, as we watched the brilliant ember of flame that provided us warm and comfort for the night.

"So you understand."

"I see the path now."

"You are quick to catch on, you are wiser than your age suggests."

"I am not so talented." Because I wasn't young, not anymore.

"Time will tell. I will see, if you are a diamond in the rough or..."

"A slightly shinier rock?"

"Correct. Do not let that discourage you, hold faith and believe. If you don't, who will?"

He looks at me, I see the sincerity in his eyes. It makes me feel a bit better about my situation. It's hard being far from home, and not knowing where home even is, at the same time.

"You will?"

"My belief won't matter if you don't. Remember, it starts and ends, with you."

"Thank you, teacher."

He looks at me and nods, ever aloof.

"Merely my duty, child. Now take this, you know what to do."

Tossing some plant fibers onto my lap that he had me dry the last night , he heads off into the dark cover of the night without a word. He's done it plenty of times, so I've gotten used to it.

Thankfully, it was still dusk. I had time.

Nimbly weaving the fibers into one coherent rope with substantially less hiccups than before, time passed just like that.

After that, I got up from my makeshift seat and started feeding the fire.

It wasn't long until teacher returned, with a giant bundle of large sticks and branches tied together by the rope I had made days before. He wordlessly tossed them onto me as I got to work.

Even as my legs ached, my feet feeling as if eviscerated, I toiled. Finding a clear space under a large tree, I found a space with less roots and stuck the largest sticks into the ground at a slanted angle with my bare hands.

I used the rope I had just made to secure more sticks together, creating a pyramid-shaped structure. Covering some gaps with smaller sticks and dried leaves, I admired my handiwork as I silently wallowed in exhaustion.

"You are getting better."

"Just as I was taught."

"Now, dinner." The Bishop said, entering the recently constructed shelter and making himself comfortable.

"..."

I stared at him, I could swear my gaze could burn at this point.

"..."

He stared back, unflinching.

"Sigh..."

No use. This was a losing battle. Work was waiting, it must be done.

"It's your duty now." His voice echoed as I trudged into the woodland shadows, wondering what I could possibly hunt in the dead of night.

I had to hunt, for food, to survive, with legs that can barely hold my weight, bruised hands, and a weary mental state.

I had to move as efficiently as possible, not wasting a single twitch of a finger as my bleak eyes scanned frantically, struggling to see past the veil of night.

I only had the moon's gentle light to guide my way.

Unlike a certain someone.

Complaining doesn't help, but it certainly makes me feel better.

Most prey animals had to be deep in their burrows by this time, so I can either find a burrow and just grab them from there, get lucky, or hunt some random nocturnal animal.

Thankfully, I had learned how to create weapons. Simple knives and spears, crude and useful in most situations.

But what I really took a liking to, was the Shepherd's Sling.

It seemed like fate for the modern man to prefer the ancient equivalent of a firearm.

A simple pouch attached to cords woven out of leather, a gift from my teacher.

Teacher had said the Church preferred them over bows in large skirmishes, as stones were much easier to carve all types of enchantments and inscriptions on with their wider surface area compared to arrows, as well as being easy to carry around.

He hadn't explained what they "inscribe" those stones with, but I imagine it was similar to the golden nails he seems to find amusement in throwing at me at random times of the day as some sort of sick test.

He had said it was one of the staples of the Inquisitors, as the ability to sling stones are best honed when young, very in line with how the Inquisition raises new exorcists, from young.

Creating a weapon from the ground up, he says.

I practice it almost as much as I sprint during the day, but I was no means anything near an expert. Now, a novice like me, using a sling in the dead of night.

What a good idea.

But at this point, I don't think I'll be able to run around and swing a knife around like a maniac. I needed something precise, light, energy-efficient, yet deadly.

By this point, I had wandered quite a ways away from camp.

I took a hefty stone from the small satchel I was given along with the sling, and put it neatly into the sling's pouch as I looked about for prey.

"!"

My eyes widened, nonexistent pupils dilated, my body froze and my muscles tensed.

How unfortunate.

Seems I was the prey tonight.

I was staring straight at a giant silhouette, sharp red eyes visible past the evening mist. Not a move, we stared as my mind ran a hundred miles an hour.

Clutching at the slingshot I had bound tightly around my middle finger and grasping its knot, my eyes tunneled and bore onto the beast.

It was eye-level with me, yet it possessed a quadruped silhouette, a domineering pressure rang like the stinging of an alarm bell in my ears.

I was mere steps away from it, I was in the moonlight, it was not. My muscles were tensed, yet it was already poised to strike.

A shiver ran through my spine.

It really was cold tonight.