My journey where? He wondered. The rhythm of the Hunting Song lifted his spirit and drove back the doubt, yet it still lingered in the back of his mind. This day brought snow from the sky, starting late in the morning and continuing with the same intensity during the rest of the day. Everything that had managed to stay dry was now painted white, and the boy walked carefully, following the fresh tracks of a beast the snow allowed him to track.
He still wasn't sure what he was trailing now, but the tracks were heavy and the vegetation around it was trampled by the size of the creature. The dangers of the Jarasha didn't stop when the hunter killed their prey. The boy had to also bring a tribute back to the village, and that sometimes meant carrying back a head or a leg. In places like this, carrying around fresh meat attracted danger.
As night fell, he found himself a tall, thick tree and tied himself as usual. From his vantage point over the canopy, he gazed at the vastness of the forest and tried to imagine his prey somewhere there under the roof of leaves. The incense burning next to him had started to grand him visions, seeing shapes and figures dance in the night sky. Yet as his eyes scanned the land, they fell on the still silhouette of the Skylegs, the lanky creature perched on the top of a nearby tree, looking at him ever silent, standing on one of its leg as if balance was no issue for it.
Its blue eyes shone, two small specks of light in the darkening sky. The boy couldn't help but feel unnerved and his mother's saying lingered in his mind. Will it attack me or does it just stalk me? He wondered. The forest was surprisingly silent, and the silence was deafening.
He opened his backpack, slowly not to scare away the Skylegs; the slightest of movements made it flinch back. From the sack, the boy pulled out a piece of his rationed meat, the smell of the salted pork too pungent for his liking. The Skylegs looked at it with curious eyes, its head cocking to the side.
"Here, take it", he said, his voice just a whisper yet like a scream in the silence.
He extended it towards the creature and when it made no move to approach, the boy tossed the meat towards the Skylegs. As the ration fell to the ground, the Skylegs jumped to the sky, vanishing over the canopy.
It didn't appear again during the night, at least when the boy would wake up and check his surrounding under the rays of the moonlight. In the morning, the piece of meat he had thrown had vanished, a single three-toed footprint next to it.
The Hunting Song led him further away from the Yushir Mountains and his village, but soon found the resting place of the beast he trailed. It had consumed a deer, the carcass's ribs broken and most of it's belly missing. The blood had frozen during the night, and the beast the boy followed seemed to had slept next to his meal.
What beast sleeps where it feasts, oblivious to corpse eaters and scavengers? He wondered. He managed to keep his fear suppressed under the rhythm of the Hunting Song. As the day marched on, the footprints of the large beast became clearer and clearer in the snow. He was getting closer. He was getting closer to becoming a true hunter.
He was surprised when, during his midday rest, the Skylegs appeared again, this time closer than ever before with its characteristic one legged stance.
"You follow me", he observed, "Why is that?"
The Skylegs, as always was silent, yet it didn't flinch as the boy took another piece of salted meat and tossed in towards the creature. Instead, it caught it in the air and looked at it curiously.
"Eat it", the boy said, taking a bite from his own.
The Skylegs neared the meat to its face and opened its mouth wide. The boy noticed that the creature had no teeth whatsoever. He looked in awe as the Skylegs's eyes flashed with a vibrant blue color and the meat began to wither and turn to dust. A wave of nausea hit the boy, but he managed to remain still, tracking the Skylegs's movements for signs of hostility.
As the last of the meat was swept up by the wind as dust, the light in the eyes of the Skylegs dimmed again and it looked straight at the boy.
And it smiled.
"You are welcome, pale stranger", the boy said, bowing his head.
He expected the Skylegs to jump up to the sky again, but instead, the creature stood up and with a precise leap, closed the distance and sat in front of the boy, both legs crossed.
Standing so close now, the boy could see the same light in the creature's eyes also traveled through its veins, some of them outlined clearly on its frilled ears and its neck. It looked at the boy and the light under its skin brightened slightly, the wave of nausea hitting the boy again. This time, it was strong enough to make him flinch.
The Skylegs cocked its head to the side, seemingly confused.
"What was that?" the boy asked, "That thing you did just now. Are you a shaman?"
The feeling was similar to when the Worldsinger of his village called to the spirits and bended the will of the surrounding animals. The boy felt the same nausea then, even if no one else in the village seemed to be disturbed like he was.
The only reply the Skylegs gave him was an even more intent tilt of its head to the side. Any other attempts the boy made to converse with the Skylegs were met with the same confused gaze and utter silence. Until he decided to sing, picking the Lifesong, a tribute to the birth of his people and their protection.
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The Skylegs at first seemed alarmed by the sudden change of tone from the boy, but slowly began to calm again. The shy glow under its skin began to pulse rhythmically with the boy's song.
And with every pulse of light, another wave of nausea hit the boy, stronger than the last. His vision blurred and the forest around him seemed to vanish in the soft blue light. He tried to keep himself awake and singing, but soon found it he wasn't sure he sang anymore; he couldn't hear anything save for a distant, slow hum of appreciation.
Around him, the shy blue light dimmed into darkness, save for some specks of light like distant stars, the boy a formless silhouette between them.
Suddenly, he was jerked back into reality, and found himself heaving to the side, emptying his stomach with violent shudders. He could see a few drips of blood mingling with the content of his previous meal, and found his nose bleeding.
The Skylegs had vanished, and judging by the rustling of the leaves on the canopy over his head, it wasn't long ago, the sudden movements of throwing up having probably scared it away.
Songbringer protect me, what was that? He shuddered, suddenly too cold, too tired to move. He tried to stand up and continue, but found himself too tired even to sit up. His eyes heavy, he fell asleep right there on the soft earth.
A sharp pain woke him up screaming. All he could see was a hairy muzzle, covered in blood, his blood. He shook himself, scaring his assailant back, and reached for his dagger. His right leg bled furiously from where his assailant had bit him.
In front of him now stood a beast reaching all the way to his chest while in all fours, with thick black fur and huge paws. It resembled a something between a wolf and a bear, both ferocious enemies the boy didn't wish to face.
And now, this dire wolf, a lithran, was in front of him, licking its muzzle from the boy's blood.
The boy picked up the Hunting Song from where he had left off, resisting the urge to begin singing his Death Song. He knew that a person who dies without having sang his Death Song goes to the Plains of Whispers, cursed to never again be able to sing, and he dreaded the prospect of meeting his end that way.
No, I will not die here. This is my chance to become a hunter! He told himself and tried to stand up, holding his dagger ready for when the lithran attacked again. The deadly beast snarled at him, with saliva dripping from its open maw, and jumped.
The two bodies crashed against each other, the boy narrowly ducking under the lithran's fangs, his blade meeting flesh. They fell back, the air escaping the boy's lungs as he slammed to the ground, white pain flashed in his eyes and warm blood coated his hands. His bag and arrows scattered on the snow, his bow tumbling to the side, coming to rest on the snow covered roots.
The lithran squirmed and growled, trying to bite him, slashing at him with its large paws. One of its paws connected straight with the boy's left shoulder and he felt his arm go numb, the shoulder dislocating with ease, maybe even breaking.
He tried to bring the dagger back for a second stab, but his hands were slick with blood and the lithran moved around so unpredictably that he lost his grip on the weapon. He brought his hand up under the throat of the large wolf, trying to keep the beast from biting him.
If he couldn't crawl out of its death grip, he would crawl farther inwards. He found the hard way that his wounded leg didn't move properly, so he used the other one to kick the beast in the genitals, making it howl and withdraw back just enough for the boy to take a long sought-after breath of fresh air.
The lithran stepped back, it too limping and dripping blood on the white snow. The boy's dagger stuck out from the beast's gut, a painful wound. Even if the boy was lucky enough to have wounded any vital organ, the lithran still had time to rend him to pieces before it succumbed to the wound.
And the beast looked at him with hate, an intent gaze not fitting a simple creature of the forest. The boy suppressed the urge to change the song to that of his Death, and kept to the pulsing verses of the Hunt.
Tears filled his eyes as he scampered to his feet, limping heavily, his right leg useless and his left arm pulsing with pain. He had found one of his scattered arrows on the snow, and he now held it ready in a trembling hand.
The woods around them started to dance and bushes rustled, signaling the movements of the lithran's pack. The tales the boy had heard of the ferocious lithran always painted them as either lone wolves or the undisputed leaders of a pack.
The rustling seemed to form a direction, the creatures moving to stand behind the wounded lithran, who lowered down, maw open for a fatal attack.
Two pale blue bids of light appeared behind the rustling bushes instead of wolves and hungry fangs. Two blue eyes that rushed towards them with surprising speed, a subtle, guttural hum filling the air, electrifying it, making the leaves around them dance in a nonexistent wind.
The lithran attacked, but instead of crashing on the boy, was swept over him as the Skylegs fell onto it, the pale creature's mouth open in a silent scream, blue light vibrant in its whole body. The nausea returned in an instant, more powerful than ever before.
Lithran and Skylegs tumbled to the ground, the boy's vision too blurred to follow their brutal battle. The lithran howled and barked with hate, the Skylegs silent as always, a blurry spot of blue light in the boy's dimming vision.
He blinked and willed himself to focus. His vision returned but for a moment, just as the two combatants came to a stop, the lithran on top, straining to sink his fangs on the Skylegs face as the pale creature strained to hold his head back. The boy limped as quickly as his wounded leg allowed him, falling just as he reached his bow. With trembling hands, he nocked the arrow he still held and pulled back the string, screaming from the shearing pain on his shoulder. His hands struggling, he aimed through his blurry vision and released, the arrow hissing as it pierced the air.
Then silence.
The boy couldn't stand on his own now, and had to crawl in the freezing snow to reach the two still forms. He felt the warm rush of blood before he could discern what he was looking at. The Skylegs balanced on its one leg as usual, albeit huddled down in a sign of pain and fatigue. In front of them, the lithran laid still, a large hole on its stomach and the shaft of an arrow sticking through the side of its neck, where blood rushed out like a river, a warm contrast to the cold around them.
It took all his strength to cut the lithran's head but found he had none left to carry it away from the carcass. As he turned and looked at the Skylegs, his gaze now blurring and his body numbing, he finally allowed himself to sing his Death Song.
He woke up to the sounds of footsteps and loud voices, of people calling out for him. It took him some time to realize who they were, and it took him even longer to notice the large head of the lithran next to him.
His return to the village was a bittersweet welcome. He didn't leave the Worldsinger's hut until two weeks later. A trophy like a lithran's head had earned him the prestigious place of not just a hunter, but the personal chosen of the Worldsinger. But the lithran had taken its toll from him; the Worldsinger couldn't save his wounded leg.
How a hunter with the use of one of his legs could hunt, the village didn't know, and they mourned him as a cripple. Yet the boy, now a proper man, continued to venture into the forest alone, always coming back with grand trophies and plentiful game.
They all praised the Songbringer for bestowing his blessing on the one-legged man, and no one questioned why some of the footprints were deeper, nor did they notice why those footprints bore the mark of only three toes.