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Letter From Oblivion
9 Years, Forest Clearing. Battle Techniques

9 Years, Forest Clearing. Battle Techniques

9 Years, Forest Clearing. Battle Techniques

"Okay, I will begin." Carefully, I put a dozen of small pebbles onto my open palm. I focus on a gnarly hole in a distant tree's bark. One after another, in quick succession, they start shooting at the tree, impacting right in the hole with an audible "THUNK" each. Accelerating mid-air, as if pulled by invisible strings, they miss not a single time. It took less than five seconds to fire all stones, a considerable feat of concentration. Each stone is only propelled by roughly half the allocated coefficient, as I concentrate on two stones at any time, switching focus from one to another as soon as it hits it's target.

The ground is covered by snow. It is deep winter, I would turn a year older very soon. Naturally, I make use of heating magic all the time. The snow has a nice, white colour, and reflects the sun right into my eyes. It complicated aiming a bit, but when getting used to it after a short while, it was no issue.

Brian sits next to me, and is watching me from behind. He has also something prepared, but he did not want to disclose any details on it up until he reveals it. Seven days ago I, Ione and Brian found a slaughtered boar. Afterwards, we found three animals in the exact same condition: a hare four days ago, and three days ago two foxes. Brian insisted on burying them again, but luckily there was not as much meat to bury like the first time, and we knew what to do. Additionally, these animals had not been dead for days, and therefore were not as maggot-ridden as the boar.

In company of the shredded meat, the surrounding forest was damaged, bushes were flattened, branches snapped. We also found more tracks, suggesting that whatever killed those animals was frequenting these parts of the forest quite often. However, we never found tracks close to our village. Even less did we see signs of the perpetrator himself, indicating a nocturnal predator.

Brian was furious anytime we stumbled upon another corpse. This also leads to the current situation: after finding the butchered pair of foxes, Brian spoke of driving the unknown predator away, once and for all. He requested us to think of magic battle tactics, and said he would to the same. The day of presentation would be today, and I had thought of two things, one of which I just now showed.

Ione was not very happy over Brian's proposal, however. She said it was too dangerous, and that we should involve the mayor. That it was time to open up to him about our magic, to be fully able to explain to him the predicament this hunter puts us in. While I see her point about it being dangerous, I absolutely opposed involving the mayor. It is unpredictable what would happen if he learned of this, considering the way he behaved on our last serious talk.

“Awesome!” Brian seems to be impressed. When this topic first came up, I asked him why he wants to take action against this animal. Why does he want to fight this beast, if he despises violence that much? I had an extended talk with him about that topic. According to his words, attacking someone is a thing no one should ever do, except for when you protect animals or people from things that already did so in bad faith. As a vigilante protecting the weak, it was okay to take action against oppressors. Or something like that.

To be honest, I do not quite understand his reasoning. Either violence is allowed, or not, is it not that way? What difference does it make between this predator killing a boar, or whatever animal else, and us attacking it in return?

Still, I am in a consensus with Brian that we must do something against this threat. Not only does it discomfort Brian, it also means danger for the people of our Village, and us, since we come to this forest rather regularly. Since the other villagers are yet unaware of this threat, it is best to dispose of it before they notice – it would be advantageous to keep them from being unnecessarily worried.

It may be huge and powerful, that much is obvious to anyone who saw its tracks, its prey, and the destruction surrounding it. But in the end, it is just an animal, and nothing more. We should have no problem competing with it using long-range magic attacks.

“Is it now? It may have been a looker, but each of these pebbles did not have strong firepower or penetration on their own. Maybe to harass or distract a target they are usable, but that is about it.” If I wanted those two things, I can still resort to using larger pebbles, or even fist-sized rocks. Still, should I go for the eyes with this, it could prove debilitating to the creatures eyesight, making the further process easier.

“It is impressive, Rei! I am sticking with that, no matter what you say.” Brian seemed a bit down when we started finding the victims of our target, but he seems to have come over it. He is back to his energetic old self, through and through. While I marvel his ability to stay light-hearted in this situation, I would also wish a little more seriousness. With wit and planning, we should be able to step out of this unscathed. A slip-up however, and we could end up in a similar state to boar, fox and hare.

“Thanks. I guess.” I wonder what Ione would have said to it. She went back to the village an hour ago, said she had to get something crucial for her technique. She prompted us to start without her, and despite our objections she insisted on that. I gave in relatively quickly, knowing that there was no use in arguing. We could still show her our techniques later, it is not like there is any real limit to how often we can use them.

“I got another one.” After ensuring myself of Brian's attention, I open my pouch and grab out a quickly-woven hay doll. My mother showed me how to weave them after I asked for it. I think she was happy that she could to something that did not require moving around and therefore gladly taught me the basics. I made two, just in case I mess it up one time. On the other side of my waist, my trusty knife hangs in a small, scuffed sheath. I draw it, inspect its cutting edge, and hand a doll to Brian. “Could you throw this into the air?”

“Sure thing.” Brian takes the doll, and throws it in a nice, wide arc. He got seriously skilled in throwing things during our practice, be it with or without magic assistance. I release the knife, and instead of wielding it with my hands, I put it in the firm grasp of movement manipulation magic. It approaches the still-airborne doll at high speed, and slows down just enough to precisely cut it in two, separating the upper from the lower half. Without a pause, it turns around, and continues to further mutilate the already dead straw doll, halving it again, and yet again. All that comes pouring down to the ground are single straws, and some knots here and there.

Manipulating a blade requires a lot less force, but iron precision compared to a stone. You need to angle it correctly, and precisely adjust speed, as well as inverting its movements in a moment's span.

Luckily, I practiced that long enough with stones, so doing the same trick with a knife is easily adapted. The next part would not have been necessary, but in some way, style points also are important. I hold the sheath open with my hand, and the knife slowly returns back to me, until it lies embedded in it just like before. Brian, as if struck by something, utters a single sentence. “Before we start to seriously harm it, let us try to just scare it away, okay?”

“Why? Are you scared?” Maybe I overdid it a bit, and my demonstration was slightly too impressive.

“No... I just would feel bad hurting it outright. You killed animals as well, didn't you? I can see you had your reasons, and you did mean no bad with it, even if it is still wrong. Maybe this animal is the same? Even if not, we should give it the chance to think about it's actions, repent...”

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I snort through my nose. “I think you are giving an animal's thinking capability too much credit here.”

“I know that it will most likely end with us killing it, as it is our only choice. But that does not mean I have to like it, and if there was another option, I would hate myself for not taking it when being able to.”

“Alright. If we find a way to solve this situation without violence, we can take it. Gladly. But realistically, that is unlikely to happen.” I am already a bit tired of this discussion. Of course I thought of a less dangerous way, without confronting the beast ourselves, but still containing the information on it so noone else realizes it ever existed. Yet, this seems like an impossible task, given the circumstances.

It is time I steer the conversation in a different direction. “You thought of a fighting technique as well, did you not?”

“Ah, yes. I did.” Brian gets up, and slides down the frozen-over boulder. “Come down! I can't show it properly up there. I myself jump down the rock, and land in the leaves on arms and legs. It is a bit softer compared to landing on only my legs. I adapted this particular way of falling and landing after I had seen a village cat jumping down a tree. I can not say that I am as gracious as this cat, but it still helps a bit.

Brian pulls a pair of heavy gloves out of his coat. I come a bit closer, to have a proper look on it. “Can I have a look on that?” Brian nods, and hands me the glove. Upon closer inspection, it is too large for me, and for Brian as well. It is also heavily padded, and severely encumbers the hand. I hand it back. “You are not planning to punch anything with that, are you?” I ask, half joking.

“Why not? Just look at it first before you judge.” Brian takes the right glove of the pair, and puts it on his right hand. “Just watch!”

Fine. I take a step back, and watch. Brian will have thought this through.

Silence dominates the surroundings. Not even a bird is chirping a song, and the snow creates an almost surreal atmosphere. Brian is standing right in front of a tree – a pine tree. Both leaf- and needle trees are growing in this forest, and therefore it never fully looses its green. The tree in front of Brian looks sickly though, its needles giving away hints of brown, with a green that is all but the usual radiant dark. Almost like an old lady waiting to die, it has several bents in its log.

Slowly, but confidently, Brian reaches out with his left hand, grasping for something in the air, but invisible to my eyes. I hold my breath, to have the least impact on this scene possible. Right as Brian stretches out his arms, it starts snowing. Not heavily, barely more than a few snowflakes filling the air.

Following his grasping motion, Brian starts forming whatever he encloses with both hands now. While doing it, he seems oddly calm, in opposition to his his normally energetic attitude. Finally, he puts everything he has in his gloved right hand, and goes into stance as if for a mighty punch.

“There is no way he is going to do that.” This thought revolves all around my head, but the certainty of that fact I had at the start quickly dwindles.

Brian opens his fist, and immediately closes it again. As soon as his fingertips touch his palm, his fist flies forward. The surrounding air seems to vibrate, and the pine seems to shiver, awaiting its demise. The speed at which the fist snaps forward is incredible, had I blinked, I had missed it entirely.

The arm impacts on the tree's bark. This does not stop the movement, however. As if time slowed down just for this moment, my eyes widen in horror as, first of all, Brian's fist shatters.

A horrible crack sounds through the clearing, as immediately afterwards, the bone in his right forearm snaps right apart.

His body is flung forward, and hits the trunk with the sound of a filled sack of corn hitting the ground.

I feel my facial expression derail, without being able to do the slightest thing about it.

A primal scream of agony tears through the silence like a hot knife through wool, leaving behind a disgusting stench. I want to move... but my body is paralysed.

My thoughts, as accelerated as they were just now, come to a halt with screeching brakes.

As if in a dream, I slowly put a foot in front of another, and start moving. “Brian...” I utter this name, but no response comes from the curled package right next to the tree, only the continuing wail shattering the very fabric of reason.

A distance voice adds to the chorus of screams, with a deeply concerned note. I know this voice, it is the voice of a man – the mayor.

I hunch over Brian, who is writhing the ground. “Calm down. Let me see that.” I stutter these words, rather subconsciously, not spending a single thought on it. Although I get no answer, from this distance my blurry yet clear gaze can make out details.

Blood is sogging from the glove, dying it in a brilliant dark red. It also covers the snow, giving a clear contrast. Brian's face is distorted from pain, his eyes closed tightly, but emitting streams of tears.

His nose is running, and as I look at him, he vomits right over himself, turning the howling into a heinous gurgle for a short second.

I realize that my whole body is shaking. Weird, how can I feel cold when almost cooking my skin with magic? I increase the power yet again.

I feel like I have to do something. Anything. Anything that helps.

Yet, my mind is blank, and I remain standing still.

Without any warning, I get flung back and land in the snow. A man with flaming red hair is stooping over Brian, his back obscures his actions to me. A voice is penetrating my eardrums, screaming at me. I fail to understand the meaning, but I vaguely recognise Ione's voice.

I simply continue to stare at Brian, who I can not even see right anymore. I stand up, and approach the man, trying to get a better look on Brian. I get a look over the man's shoulder, and see him caressing Brians head with one hand, while the other shakingly supports his back. Brian himself is still screaming like an impaled pig.

I reach down my hand, trying to stroke Brian's head as well. The man puts him down gently, but then smacks away my hand. I look into his face.

Red hair, no beard, watery eyes, but a rageful expression. I try to say something, along the sorts of explaining what happened – when a hit in the face sends me reeling, spinning, and falling face-first into the snow. This blows away my daze, and I finally get together a clear thought. The mayor, and Ione. What in hell is the mayor doing here?

I get up, and finally understand what I have been said. “How could you!?” Ione screams into my face, beaming with rage and spite. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO BRIAN?!”

The mayor is back to looking for Brian. “What? I did not do a thing! Brian did that to himself with a stupid punch!” My thoughts, so clear just now, become clouded by a different emotion: Rage. Why does Ione accuse me? It is not my fault! “It is not my fault that Brian is a hot-headed Imbecile! Why would anyone right in their mind punch a tree? That is insane!”

I never once saw Ione raging before.

Why are we even fighting? Should we not be helping Brian? This is priority now, is it not? I get these thoughts after saying the last sentence. As if my subconsciousness is trying to tell me something, and trying to get over the fact that I had been accused for something that absolutely was not my fault.

“You should have protected him! Why did you let that happen? You could have stopped him!” Ione screams at me, but do her words even have a meaning?

Could I have stopped Brian? There is no way I could have! It all went that fast... “HOW COULD I HAVE KNOWN HE WAS GOING TO PUNCH THE FUCKING TREE?!” There was no way for me to stop him. No way. It is not my fault that he is injured. Not my fault that his arm is bleeding, that he is screaming, writhing, and in agony. “not my fault, for...” My voice gets quieter and quieter, until it finally gets silenced by tears.

Tears, huh. A hot stream of them is running from each eye.

I hear Ione address me again, but nothing intelligible reaches me. I feel pathetic. I was not able to keep my friend from harm... what kind of person am I, even?

Voices, I hear voices. They speak to me, but I can not understand. I just sit in the snow, and yet I feel awfully hot. Why? It is winter.

Tears are running from my eyes, for so long now that I fear of running dry on them. Voices.

“Your fault, it was your fault and you know it...”

I heard a voice unlike the ones I heard before. Instead coming from the outside through my ears, it originates from the inside. It is a terrible, cold voice.

“Savage... Who would let his friend get injured like this?”

This voice should shut up. Why can't it be blurry, as all the voices coming from outside?

“He is going to hate you. She is going to hate you. Everyone will hate you for what you did.”

I can not bear it. “Quiet...”

“Trying to shut up the truth? That never works, trust me. Just look it into the face – you are a horrible person...”

I pull together all my power, and scream as loud as I can. “QUIET! QUIET; QUIET, QUIET, QUIET!!”

Something dark touches my shoulder. I swivel around as fast as I can, and look at the person that touched me with blurry eyes, in shock. “get away...”

I start crawling backwards, facing the person that touched my shoulder. It's head is on fire, but the silhouette is blurry beyond recognition.

Again, it extends it's arm after me. Panic runs through my veins.

“GET AWAY!” I scream, and turn around. I must run.

Run, and get away, from the voice, from the people here. Run.

I run through the forest. Without looking back, I run as fast as I can.

I hear steps behind me, menacingly crunching through the snow, and they are close.

Magic... Magic will help me! I only need to... use it...

Levity surges through my body, at the same time as adrenaline. I sprint forwards, only barely avoiding hitting obstacles.

I run, as fast as never before, as it is for my life. I know this for a fact. If the person catches me, I will die. Die for what I did, for what I committed...

I will not have that. I run, and run further, and further.

At last, my vision dwindles. I have not heard steps in hours now, but it is never save.

It turns dark, and the ground comes closer to my face in alarming speed.

Impact.