Boring. Sand is boring. It scratches and irritates, it reflects the sun mercilessly, and it makes everything hot and dry. The desert stretches on far beyond what the eye can see, with no end in sight in any direction, even with the wisdom that, at least to the south, a large mountain range extends.

Prowling that desert are titanic creatures that prey on everything else, even each other. Some are great flying beasts, while others bury themselves in the sand and lie in wait. Though no one is quite certain how many colossi there are, one man is known to hunt them relentlessly.

Murtoa of Lakia, a human knight of unconventional means, lays on his stomach on a sand dune as he studies the environment ahead.

Lykha, the young fairy rescued by Murtoa from being stranded in the desert in an anti-magic capsule, hides her body under a blanket as the merciless sun beams down on them. She’s sweating profusely, and Murtoa HAS to be even hotter. But, he doesn’t give any indications of discomfort.

What he’s doing, though, is hunting a monster.

Lykha studies the object protruding from the sand a ways ahead. It gives her chills, as a similar sight is very familiar to her. Though, thankfully, this one is already dead.

The protrusion is none other than the carcass of a gryduke, likely killed by Murtoa himself over a year ago. It is the suspected hiding place of their quarry; a mid-size silveryourd.

It dawns on the young fairy, though, that she’s been traveling with Mury for some time now, and she hasn’t made any real efforts to learn his trade. And, by extension, connect with him.

“Teach me, Mury. Please? What are you looking at?”

The human warrior shifts briefly. But, without questioning her, he simply answers, “If there are scavengers, we’re likely to see them emerge at some point. If the silveryourd hasn’t returned, we don’t want to be cornered inside if we can avoid it.”

“Aren’t your clothes acid-resistant, though? You walked through the gryduke’s stomach acids without issues.”

“I resin coat my boots and gauntlets to protect them, but it’s not enough to stop a silveryourd’s acid spit. Fortunately, they can only produce a limited supply. Never assume they’re out, though. Like a rattlesnake, the mature ones learn to conserve. Acid is one of their greatest defenses.”

“How do you plan to kill it?”

“Usually, I have to get it into the air and cause it to fall from high up.”

“Fall? Wait! Wouldn’t that mean you have to ride it up into the sky?”

He nods.

“What if you die?”

“No plan is without risk.”

“THAT’S JUST CRAZINESS THOUGH!”

“Maybe. But it works.”

“Why not just brain it with one of your spike explosives, like the nightenmael?”

“No good. Silveryourds already have thicker hides than most other colossi, even given their relatively small size. Their skulls are almost like diamond.”

“Indeed,” murmurs Gyrryth as he and the others join them. They stowed the cruiser and have brought equipment that Maerin prepared. “A silveryourd’s skull is quite a treasure if kept intact.”

Maerin scoffs, “If anyone can afford to buy one.”

Lykha secretly pouts. She was enjoying the brief -and rare- private time she was getting with Murtoa.

The human warrior counters quietly, “Won’t matter if it isn’t dead. But, I think I have a plan that should work sufficiently enough.”

Lykha scolds, “Riding it is NOT allowed, Mury.”

Coco asks curiously, “Ridin’!? Coun’ me in!”

“No!”

“Love, don’ lissen a single gab the tiny tricksie spit! We can ride it!”

This time, Mury replies, “No. This plan is better. Suitable for our group.”

He lays out his plan; the gryduke carcass, which is on its side, provides a ton of sharp, heavy objects overhead in the form of its massive, tree-like teeth. His plan is to weaken them by cracking or sawing them, and then dislodging them with either explosives or Gyrryth’s shots. This puts everyone but Mury in relative safety on top of the jaw, while Mury lures the silveryourd into position and stuns it with one of Coco’s flashers. While the girls disapprove, this puts him near enough to the silveryourd that if it survives the trap-fall, then he can finish it with the armor-breaker sword.

Lykha listens intently. She’s not just trying to carry out his plan this time. His wisdom; the wisdom of a true monster hunter is on display. He is never concerned. His voice never trembles. He has few doubts, and for those he has, contingencies are in mind. How did a young boy learn to become such a fearsome warrior?

Maerin remarks dryly, “So, I made all the chemical bombs for nothin’, huh?”

Mury sketches in the sand as he explains, “Not true. We’ll stage a perimeter of mortars around the mouth of the cave, buried just under the sand.” He hands a strange, thin stick to Lykha, saying, “Instead of burning through spells, light this.”

She puffs her cheeks, grumbling, “So, I’m still just a fuse lighter?”

He chuckles, “If you would, please. No one else can move as fast as you. When we need fuses lit, the silveryourd will be on the move. Any second lost is a chance it gets away.”

She snatches the strange wand from his hand. “Fine, I’ll do it for you. What is this thing, anyway?”

“It’s a magnesium powder rod. The magnesium will burn like a candle, but much hotter. It’ll also throw sparks. Be mindful.”

Maerin fills in what she suspects Murtoa is headed towards, “So, Lykha lights the fuses, the mortars detonate and explode caustics into a cloud. This will be enough to hurt the silveryourd?”

“Should irreparably damage its eyes if nothing else.”

“Wait! What about you!?” cries out Lykha.

He scoffs, “Let’s hope the first half of the plan does the job.”

Gyrryth offers, “Our third line of controlling the outcome can come in the form of my lightning spells. I’ll use spirit energy to ensure the impact grounds the beast.”

Murtoa nods, “If you’re willing. All advantages are useful.”

This stings Lykha a little. She sincerely wishes she could do more than light fuses. She focuses, though, asking important questions for her own knowledge, “You’re sure the armor breaker can cut through the silveryourd’s hide?”

“Hope so.”

She puffs her cheeks in irritation, “You’re supposed to be the expert.”

“I’ve employed many strategies I was unsure of until I accomplished them. Only way to kill new things.”

Her finger is still pointed sassily at him, but the fire leaves her sass. He -the least willing to do so- led to the defeat of the solaghoul, a monster even he hadn’t seen before.

Lykha idly wonders how many types of monsters are in the world. She doesn’t feel anger towards Mury for his philosophy of hunting what he knows how to hunt if he can. At least, not anymore. If his plan goes to plan, he could kill this silveryourd in a few minutes. If the solaghoul wasn’t as weak to the chemical they found, it could have been unbeatable.

Or, at least, it would have taken Mury more than a few hours.

The party sets to work on tasks. Coco makes flashers and the shock grenades for everyone with every part she has lying around, while Lykha helps Maerin grind and mix chemicals together. The more mature fairy is surprisingly driven when she sets to task, though she also sips at her alcohol regularly, seemingly trying to time the completion of her work with the moment she crosses the threshold to being drunk.

Meanwhile, Murtoa and Gyrryth scout the gryduke carcass more closely. While the plan involves what they laid out, the two seasoned monster hunters are the most likely to survive if the silveryourd appears suddenly. And, if left to his own devices, Mury will simply risk his own life to kill it.

It also often crosses Lykha’s mind that it’s quite miraculous that he’s alive at all, given what little she’s seen of how he engages colossi specifically. He seems to have little regard for his own wellbeing, so long as the colossus he’s fighting ends up dead. And, if he’s still alive afterwards, then so much the better; he can find the next one.

Now, he has a party that has stuck with him, aiding him with his mission. He’s fought alongside them and on their behalf. He may be a loner by nature, but he’s a genuinely kind person.

And I love him. IT! I love it -that about him.

The young fairy shakes her head. She does wish the effects of her blood magic would go away. She’s not supposed to feel such affection towards him. Or, rather, she’d prefer to know it’s her own affection, and not a side-effect of the curse.

Still…

She glances at him when he walks past the sand cruiser’s ramp with Gyrryth. The two are carrying a large egg.

Coco is the one to call out, “Wha’in sunblastin’ wastes is tha’!?”

Murtoa replies in his succinct and utterly useless way, “An egg.”

Coco shrieks, “I SEE THA’! Me gab meanin’ what kind ‘o crier shell?”

She doesn’t, however, miss the opportunity to tease Lykha, saying, “Tha’s where li’l monsty’s plop ou’ of, Tricksie.”

Lykha’s cheeks undoubtedly turn more red than they were a moment ago, and she yells, “I KNOW THAT!” Maerin and Coco both snicker together, and Gyrryth replies to the question, “We believe the silveryourd.”

Everyone’s faces turn more serious as they look again.

“So you brought it here?” asks Maerin. “Hopin’ for a new pet?”

Coco teases, “Oo! Or, a right fami!”

“Fami?” asks Lykha. Maerin, too, seems unsure.

Murtoa replies, “She means a familiar. And, no. Thought it would make a decent breakfast.”

The girls stare at him with mouths agape.

Maerin replies first, blunt and casual as usual, “I’m sold. Hard, Murmur. I hear monster yolks taste strong.”

Lykha cries out, “You can’t eat that!”

“Why not?” asks Maerin.

“I-... I-... What if its momma comes looking for it?”

Gyrryth chuckles, and Mury scoffs. The lizardman spellshot states warmly, “And so, you’ve deduced the real reason, M’lady Lykha.”

She stares at the two in shock, and Maerin retorts with a frown, “And so I ask again; so you brought it here?”

Murtoa nods. “Yes. What better trap than the one thing we know it can’t resist?”

Once more, the girls all stare at Murtoa.

***********************************

Lykha lays in position on top of the tooth of the once-great gryduke now slowly decaying in the desert. It’s nighttime, but she was able to get a nap per Murtoa’s instructions. Gyrryth is on the next tooth down, ready to detonate the bomb that should hopefully dislodge the tooth when the time comes.

Coco is lying next to the young fairy, and the latter grumbles, “I don’t know which is more evil; tricking a momma with her own egg, or that we saved the contents for food…”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Coco giggles. “‘Member, Tricks. Momma or no, ‘s a monsty. A nasty monsty.”

“I know… But still.”

“‘Leas’ there no formin’ crier in’ni. Jus’ like om-noms a la Coco.”

The fairy sighs. “Your omelettes ARE really good…”

“‘Zactly! Our li’l sheller no’ but a waste other-go.”

“I hear you… Barely understand, but I hear you…”

Coco giggles. The two watch together as the egg sits out in the open. While some of the innards are still inside the shell to mask the scent of what’s ALSO inside the shell now, the bulk of it is a waiting explosive charge, courtesy of tireless work from Maerin, Coco, and Lykha to mix the explosives after grinding them carefully, and then Maerin making an adhesive to glue the shell back together with minimal scent.

Lykha keeps an eye on where the little green flags are in the sand. If she’s needed, she has to quickly fly down and light the fuses that are marked by each of those flags, ideally prioritizing whichever one the silveryourd heads towards.

And, Mury is laying calmly a few yards away from the egg under a blanket. Lykha is of course concerned that he’ll get crushed in the off chance the silveryourd lands exactly where he is, but she couldn’t change his mind. He feels an obligation to be ready to strike from the ground.

Maerin, as promised by Murtoa at the beginning, is sleeping in the cruiser; her part of the mission complete far above and beyond what was asked for.

It makes Lykha smile when she thinks about her friends, especially how Mury’s expectations for them are exactly what he says; whatever they want to do and to help as little or as much as possible. She’s not angry that Maerin tries to avoid the monsters themselves -she understands the desire in fact-. Maerin didn’t have to help at all, and instead, spent her own money that she had just received to ensure victory on this mission. She might lord it over Mury for the rest of their lives, but she didn’t hesitate with the very real risk Mury could lose the ability to repay her entirely.

That’s why they’re all here though; Lykha because she needs Mury for protection and she trusts him, Coco because she is infatuated with Mury and has nowhere else to go, Gyrryth from a sense of mutual respect and values, and Maerin, because Mury offered her something she had been missing in her life.

Mury is a loner by nature, but he’s not alone this time.

And this time, Lykha knows what they’re up against. Not a dragon.

Still, the beast that lumbers up over a sand dune behind the group up on top of the jaw gives Lykha a nervousness. Its form is reptilian, but with the gait of an angry bird, though its forelegs have webbing extending to its back legs, like a gliding monster. Its forelegs are tucked up against its chest, but they clearly are powerful enough to walk on and promote flight, rather than simple gliding.

Its jaws are huge, with sharp teeth that seem to almost be retractable -likely so it can keep them out of its own acid-.

The silveryourd is limping, and it has obvious injuries on its legs and body, though it is dragging one of the lernaetodes through the sand. Lykha’s heart races. It’s undoubtedly the same silveryourd they saw. She can only imagine the ferocity of a monster that could fend off and even prey upon the lernaetodes.

The silveryourd notices the egg sitting in the open, and it bellows, releasing the lernaetode’s carcass to bolt around the jaw fully. The silveryourd glances around, squawking and barking deep and loud sounds. It inspects the egg with several sniffs, stalking around it with cautious steps. It looks around, bellowing again. Lykha checks where Murtoa’s hiding spot is. Several precarious steps made her heart skip individual beats.

Then, the silveryourd acts exactly as Mury predicted; it scoops the egg into its jaws ever so gently. The young fairy is astonished at how predictable -how easy- the unorthodox knight makes his job look.

She looks over at Gyrryth when a glow rises from the darkness; a fire spellduster -as he calls his pistols-. She and Coco cover their ears, watching. But, the glow extends to Gyrryth, and his expression tightens. The young fairy realizes what he’s doing.

As soon as the silveryourd has the egg seated safely in its lower jaw, the lizardman spellshot fires. A glowing shockwave sprays from the muzzle of the spellduster, and a bright beam connects the magic gunslinger to the egg. Two separate blasts hit hard; the substantially more powerful spellshot than normal, and the forty or fifty pounds of explosives hidden in the large egg. Fireballs are shortly after replaced with smoke and dust clouds as the titanic creature stumbles. It’s maybe a tenth of the size of the nightenmael, but every step tremors through the sand.

As the clouds clear, though, Lykha is more astonished than before. Even with a spirit-enhanced spell and the substantial explosives in the egg, the silveryourd still has a head. Coco says what Lykha is thinking -in Coconese, of course-, “Big butter sizzle an’ that thing still has a gob an’ think-holda!?”

Lykha murmurs, “Mury did say its head is like diamond…”

“Shiny clear rock? Me own eyes see clear rock break.”

“Sure that wasn’t glass?”

“... No…”

Lykha smiles, watching the silveryourd as it shakes its head wearily, groaning in a daze. Though its head is largely intact, she notices something inspiring; the silveryourd’s jaw is hanging loosely and awkwardly, as if it’s been dislocated on one side. This should vastly reduce its level of danger to Mury.

Speaking of, Lykha looks. The human warrior is standing, surveying the silveryourd from just inside the thinning cloud. He has his hand on one of his swords, and his other hand ready to throw.

Deciding on an opening, the warrior pockets the device -likely one of Coco’s gadgets-, and he sprints for the silveryourd as it lowers its head, panting. Mury is approaching from behind, and it’s a long way to his target of its neck.

Or, so Lykha would assume.

Like the nightenmael, Mury’s attacks aren’t always meant to be lethal strikes whittling away its life force. Some of his attacks are very intentionally focused on one goal; keeping the monster from escaping. From entering the monster’s body to crippling wings, nothing he does is a desperate or meaningless swing.

He slashes at the bend of the silveryourd’s rear leg, and the silveryourd howls. The human warrior, seemingly reading its mind, ducks underneath it as it tries to pivot to see him. From the creature’s other side, Lykha can’t see Mury, but she can guess he slashed again, because the silveryourd, startled, rolls in a violent tumble away from the human warrior. This time, it’s able to lay eyes on him, and it roars at him as ferociously as its broken jaw allows. Mury has his sword in hand, but he’s on guard to dive clear.

Murtoa of Lakia has faced silveryourds before. He knows what kinds of things to expect, what its deadliest defenses are, and how it’s likely to move.

Lykha, however, has not seen any of that before. She tenses, instinctively gripping Coco’s sleeve as the silveryourd spits a jet of liquid.

Murtoa manages to sprint clear of the liquid, which smokes where it hits the sand. Coco urges, “Feet loose, Tricksie. You’ll be ‘sponsible soon.”

The fairy nods, “Right.” She pulls the magnesium rod out of her dress, ready to light the end as Mury instructed. Coco takes one out of her gear bag. If she lights hers off of Lykha’s, Coco can still tend the fuse for the tooth bomb behind them, while Lykha flies to the mortars buried in the sand.

They watch the silveryourd stalk away from Murtoa, shaking its head. It’s growing cautious.

It’s a judgment call that Lykha has to make. Now? Wait? The silveryourd could easily leap over the mortar line from where it is if it can move as agile as, or even remotely similarly to, the nightenmael.

The young fairy hesitates. What should she do? If she goes too early, then it could waste the mortars. If she goes too late, the silveryourd could escape.

She looks at her knight companion. What would he do?

Murtoa of Lakia charges forward fearlessly, keeping low so he can throw his body any direction he needs.

Yes. That IS what he would do. He plans as far as he can, and then he charges forward. After all, the monsters he hunts are living things with a will to live. He must overcome that will with his own adaptability and drive for victory.

Lykha sparks a tiny flame, igniting her magnesium rod. “I’m going! Coco!”

“Right!” Coco holds her magnesium rod to Lykha’s to ignite it as well. The two rods will last a few minutes, so hopefully they can drive the silveryourd under Coco’s or Gyrryth’s traps in time. Regardless, Lykha needs to hurry.

The tiny fairy with minimal combat experience races down the vast distance from the upward edge of the gryduke’s jaw towards the sand far below. An advantage to being a fairy is her ability to fly, making her unafraid of heights. It was a challenge getting Coco up to where she is, and likely, will be just as much of a challenge to get her down. But, that’s a problem in victory.

Meanwhile, the silveryourd tries to slam Mury with its front right claw, but he nimbly dodges over the arm as it swipes. When the monster braces itself for a second back-swing, the warrior holds his ground, sword ready. The next swing meets sword, and the armor breaker takes the silveryourd’s fingers with ease, even as Mury tumbles back from a reduced impact.

The monster howls in anger, pacing in a broad circle quickly, proving Lykha’s caution. She flies as quickly as she can, feeling the sting of the sparks Mury mentioned coming from her igniting wand. Her wings and eyes are the primary risks, so she is careful to keep the lit end away from her.

However, as she’s approaching the nearest mortar to the silveryourd, its gaze snaps toward her. She flinches, and as she moves, even with its tremendous size, it’s easy to tell what it’s looking at.

The bright-glowing spot of light lower than the horizon and too close to be a star.

The silveryourd roars at her, and she winces from the power of the sound. It dazes her briefly as she hovers over the mortar.

WHOOOOF… She looks at the colossal monster -even more so to a fairy like her-. Murtoa shouts, “NO! MOVE!”

The monster just inhaled deeply, and it can only mean one thing. The fairy flies as fast as she can away from the silveryourd -and the mortar-.

She can hear the slurpy, gurgling noise behind her of a jet of thick liquid being sprayed towards her. She keeps her wings working as hard as they can, and she can hear the first splashes.

BOOM!

It didn’t take long. The chemical reaction -which they intended to weaponize using the base chemicals to react with the silveryourd’s acid- just violently exploded, and Lykha is thrown to the ground, tumbling through the sand. She cries out as her wings shoot pain, finding herself resting face down in the sand.

Swish swish swish!

It’s a fairly familiar sound; an almost nostalgic sound for the young fairy dazed in the sand. That’s right… This is the sound I heard when I met him…

A weight throws itself to the sand next to her, and the fairy finds herself scooped up.

Her daze lets her smile. She hasn’t really seen his face at all, all things considered. But, she can’t imagine her adventurous life -brief as it’s been- without this armored warrior. In fact, she wouldn’t have a life at all without him on more than one occasion.

The warrior gently shakes Lykha briefly, but she can’t not smile.

Seemingly giving up in the moment, he stands up, and the young fairy realizes she can’t hear much of anything. When her gaze drifts to the monster itself, reality starts to clear her head.

He sacrificed his advantage…

This thought is sobering, and the warrior skillfully tumbles, avoiding another jet of acid as he coughs. The smoke!

A flash bolts down from above, blasting the silveryourd off balance, and it howls up at Gyrryth, the spellshot that just fired. He just expended one of his lightning pistols.

Murtoa runs. He is actively trying to get Lykha to safety, rather than fight the silveryourd.

No! He must finish it… I screwed it up!

As the silveryourd turns around, Mury throws his flasher, flickering brightly and driving the monster a few steps back as it flinches. It’s pretty far, though, and may not have been effective.

How could I be such a failure!? The young fairy’s eyes water.

“Can you see the flag there?”

She looks up at the helmet. Murtoa slows and kneels, pointing. She looks at him in astonishment that he can even speak to her. He spoke loudly, seemingly knowing her hearing was faltering.

She spots the flag he’s pointing at...

Just a few feet from the silveryourd. Somehow, even in jeopardy, Mury is adapting, and he managed to direct the silveryourd to another trap. She nods. “Y-yes.”

“Can you light it?”

She nods. “Do it!”

The fairy focuses, wiping tears from her eyes as she aims her hand. She snaps her fingers, and a tiny flicker ignites a fuse. The fuses burn bright, similar to the magnesium rod, and this catches the attention of the silveryourd. It looks, cocking its head.

When the light disappears briefly into the sand, it looks closer, and Lykha grips the collar of her blouse.

BOOM!

A blast hits directly in the silveryourd’s eye, and a cloud engulfs its head. The silveryourd wails in anger and agony, flailing away from the cloud as its front legs drag its backside.

Murtoa sighs, and Lykha looks at him. He looks at her. “Keep your head down and ready to move if it moves this way.” He sets her down on the sand.

“I-I’m s-sorry Mury…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She stares at him in disbelief once more as he stands up. He can’t mean that, can he? Surely, he realizes that she screwed up his plan. Doesn’t he?

The warrior jogs towards the silveryourd, mindful of its tail as it tries to nurse its injured right eye. He picks up the flasher on his way, turning it off and putting it back into his bag.

Mury adjusts his gloves, digging for something else in his gear bag.

Lykha looks up at Gyrryth and Coco briefly. The silveryourd knows they’re there now, but it can’t possibly perceive what is about to happen if it steps a little further into position, can it?

But then, how could it perceive any of their thoughts? It’s just trying to survive.

And, Murtoa of Lakia intends to defeat it.

He pulls a small jar out of his bag, popping the cap with his thumb and tossing the contents deliberately into one of the wounded portions of the monster’s tail, where one of the lernaetodes got hold of it.

The silveryourd howls once more, and Mury skillfully ducks as it whirls. Its tail narrowly misses him, and the silveryourd shoves itself away from him over 10 yards in an instant. It roars, casting foaming saliva from its mouth as it pants wearily. Its eye is pus-covered and disgusting already, and its skin around the eye is tender and inflamed.

Mury pulls out another jar, this one with a glowing liquid inside. Lykha watches in surprise once more as the human warrior casts likely a magic potion -one that he can’t just get anywhere- at the monster. It flinches back several more of its gigantic steps to avoid the throw, but it was a casual toss, and the jar lands in the sand.

Mury draws his sword again, and the silveryourd pants frantically several more times. It finally summons the focus to take a deep breath, and a distant “Whump” reaches everyone’s ears.

Just as the silveryourd is about to spit, a massive object falls from the sky, slamming down on it and pinning it to the sand in a large poof of sand.

Murtoa walks calmly forward, recovering his potion that surprisingly didn’t break as he lets the silveryourd squirm.

It’s completely pinned, however, and it nearly falls unconscious as it squirms weakly.

The human monster slayer stops behind the monster’s neck, patient and cautious. He rears the armor-breaker sword back, but holds a moment. He glances down at his hip.

Without much further pondering, the warrior sheaths the armor-breaker and withdraws Kolaya’s sword.

This time without hesitation, Murtoa swings the sword with a vicious, clean, and final cut.

The first monster has just been slain by the sword.

The silveryourd tenses in one final groan, before its body goes limp, and its last breath casts sand away from its nostrils. The giant tooth of the gryduke sags a little as any remaining strength in the colossus departs.

From high above, a young girl’s voice screams, “YEAH! HOW YOU LIKE THA’, MONSTY! TECHROMANCA AND MONSTY SLAYA! HAHAHAHA!”

Lykha looks, and sure enough, the tooth that was dropped is none other than Coco’s, as Gyrryth smiles from his position, observing contentedly.

Of course, one question Lykha never asked -and she DOES know of it- is; if there is a mother monster, then…?

She doesn’t get to ask the question. Not even to herself.

From beyond the gryduke’s jaw, below the fairy’s allies and out of sight, comes an answer to a question no one -not even Lykha- asked.

That answer is a deep and foreboding reptilian growl.

***********************************