A few years had passed after the calamitous invasion of the Hydra Dragon, one of the Ancients. Many kingdoms and nations were alarmed by the news that a majority of the human population had a massive panic outbreak. There were massive waves that underwent, changing everyone’s lives for better or for worse. But none of it mattered for someone who lost his parents.

The village of Gathos, a small settlement town populated by a thousand people lorded over by Mayor Gathos, an assigned representative in the Republic of Lonos Tumu. Refugees who lost their homes due to the monster attacks presides peacefully in here, recovering from their wounds. Currently, delightful noises were winding around the town square as a number of lively children ran. An intricate fountain, resembling a statue of a great Monster Hunter, lay in the middle. Following them was a lady of the church, a nun who caught up to one of them, the child giggling the breath out of their nostrils within her bear-hug embrace. In the distance watched the others casually. Such was an everyday normal scene. Except for a solitary small figure who had his eyes downcast, under the shadow of a two-story house roof.

As the children passed along his periphery, a child took notice of him and smugly smiled.

"Oh look, its Mettel the freak!" The child pointed. "Boy with white hair, always gloomy and grumpy. What are you doing here?" Though receiving the words, the boy did not respond but merely gazed at them with a dark gaze. The children were cautious around him, as if afraid of a beast.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Y-you want a ‘iece of me? I’ll, I’ll show you I am not scared!” A boy came closer with trembling legs when a hand pulled on the child's ear.

"Kids, don't do this. Be kind to your neighbors. Didn't Mother Laresa teach you? Or did you want to be spanked in the butt by her again? Stop bothering Mettel.” The nun chided. Hearing this, all the kids paled and zipped their mouth. They went away without a word. The lady then turned towards the solitary kid.

"Mettel, why are you being hostile towards them? I see the look in your eyes and I could see your anger. Are you angry at them? Did they do something wrong?” But Little Mettel only took off his shoe and threw it towards her, which was calmly received by a big hand and a yelp from the nun. The boy looked at the man who interfered.

"Erick. Do you think I am a freak too?" Mettel asked. The tall and broad man with ebony skin, wearing a braided weaves hairstyle, Erick the street-smart everybody’s uncle, raised his brows.

"I ain’t say no such thing kid. And I ain’t thinkin’ no such thing either. What got ya so jumpy now? Do ya want a cookie or sumthin’?”

"Erick, don’t tease him with your usual antics. He’s just a kid, alright? Jess, are you okay?" Scolded another woman’s voice. With a blonde platinum reaching her shoulders, freckles on her face like polka dots under her auburn eyes. Mettel’s face became gloomier.

"Litney, I ain’t teasing no one. Besides, the kid’s eleven years old. He gon’ be big in no time. No time at all for sure. Best to start early." But the woman Litney simply ignored Erick, apologized to the nun and came towards Mettel with a hand.

"Come, Mettel. Why are you here in a random street? Are you looking for something, or perhaps an errand?” Mettel looked her in the eye and shook his head slowly. Litney remained smiling.

"Okay, are you hungry? Luckily for you, I just made some bread. I'll give you one for free, come with me." Litney took his hand and stood up, gesturing with an eye for Erick to come along with them. Before that, the nun came along with them and spoke with the two.

“Listen, Litney. This may also concern you too Erick, there’s been a slight tiny problem, yes only really tiny.” Erick gave her the eye.

“What up, Jess? Church have somethin’ goin’ on their alley?” Jessica, the nun, nodded.

“Yes, it’s actually related to… Old man Hartold.” She peeked at Mettel. But nevertheless continued. “He said to take care of Mettel for the time of the festival. Said he has some official matters to take care of before he went, a mysterious phenomenon he says. Might be connected to a stray monster’s trail or worse, a dungeon tunnel.” Erick shrugged.

“What the deal at? Me and Litney already takin’ care of him. It ain’t gon’ be different now.”

“Still, he asked you two to watch over him more so than usual.” Erick made a long face as Litney only agreed without a break in composure. Meanwhile, Mettel only looked around the town scenery. In front a certain shop, a father was feeding his daughter an apple, in a clothing shop for simple garment, a mother bought his two sons a pair of matching hats, and then another of a family house through the windows lies a scene of a disobedient teen going away amidst his parents’ disapproval. Seeing the parents and kids together, even the arguments ongoing, felt like a theater play that he heard about. He remembered his own, like a broken piece of mirror. In the end, he acted indifferent. He tried to.

When they arrived in front of Litney's house, a bakery shop, Erick whistled. Jess had already gone away somewhere.

"Oh man, your family's fresh baked bread, best brand of the town over 50 years. I’ll get a piece free, right?" Litney remained non-responsive to Erick. They came inside the shop and made little Mettel sit down in an unoccupied table before giving him a random piece of bread roll with a piece of chocolate inside.

"Now chow down. Don't be shy." Litney said as she smiled. But that face of hers only made Mettel look down.

"I don't want your pity. I don't want freeovers." He pushed the plate away. Pushed the chair and stood up.

"Ah." Litney raised her hand, but her mouth couldn't move. What could she even say that won't hurt the child's feelings? Yet realizing that was exactly what he didn't like, it made it all the more impossible.

"Stop little dude," However, Erick stood in the doorway. He sighed looking at the twelve-year old’s face.

"Alright, if you don't want a freebie, how about you help us out on the festival preparation? We do need a hand in setting up and sorting stuff. Can you do that for me? This bread would be your pay." Said Erick as he raised the plate. Mettel was silent.

"Erick! What are you making him do?" He only shrugged, replying the boy wasn't a boy but to be treated as a man if you want him to be strong. Litney dissuaded but Mettel simply nodded.

"Good, come with me. Make sure earn your keep. You already know most of us Harvest Day Company anyway." Just like that, the two left the bakery leaving Litney stupefied.

"But the festival’s tomorrow, what other sorting is he even gonna do?" Sighed Litney.

On the way there, Erick initiated a conversation with him.

“Heya kid. Just so you know, I’d known you told me once you really thought the old man Hartold gonna teach you. But he didn’t. So you now feel like the world owe ya somethin’. I get it but you must understand he ain’t just a plain figure. Put simply, he’s like a demigod. In status, strength, knowledge etc. If he told ya you ain’t ready, then you ain’t ready. Impatience would do you no good—trust me I know. Damn emotion got to me and made me lost my whole in-laws family from the attack, ‘cause I did no trainin’ my composure. I may be a retired hunter, one reason why Old man Hartold hired me as your babysitter, but I was still powerless. So, relax, you doin’ good. It hurts, probably forever, but you become strong enough to take it on. You strong, right?” Erick then plopped a hand on Mettel’s shoulder, pointing a hand to the surroundings “Those people out here? I known you were looking at them with full emotions, but every one of ‘em. But let me tell ya, even the happiest man hides their sorrow. Look at that one man tending to his horses by the public stable, he lost his wife. Then at that young woman selling flowers, she lost her parents too, like you. Surely you known a few people who lost somethin’?” Mettel kept silent but he eventually nodded.

“Then you ain’t special kid. Those other children are scared of you because you ain’t normal. So they resort to harrasin’. You don’t have to force anythin’, but you must learn how to be flexible. Flexible mind baby, that gotta be one of the most important qualities of bein’ a hunter.”

“… You taught me more than my supposed teacher supposed to."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Hahahaha!” Erick slapped the boy’s shoulder hard, Mettel winced.

"By the by, Wanna let me and a few others crash over at your place for a night? I can't do it with mine, the landowner will kill me." The boy looked at him quizzically and asked why.

"Come on, it ain’t the annual harvest festival for nothin. Everybody get their own holiday—well most of us, hospitality dudes have it real tough—and what's a festival without a night-over with the reals? (AN: short for real ones) You best expect some heavy booze, so I'll buy some juice for you. Old Man Hartold won’t be back for days anyway." Mettel pursed his lips.

“Okay, sure, why not?” Erick smiled smugly to that, cheering with a fist pump.

Soon, they arrived in another location where Erick led him into an office, or a warehouse, perhaps, with all the random crates and packaged boxes around here, before giving him a paper, a clip, and a pen.

"Now, all you gotta do is jus’ check down the items on the list, the date delivered, how many pieces, and the condition of package whether it be good or bad. If you spot any damaged goods or spoilt edibles, leave a red circle mark on the item name. Refer to the labels attached to the crates. For the ones on the far right, yeah, the fruits, you gotta have to stick some sticker labels on ‘em, I already made some by the table. Oh, for the ones with an ice symbol in it, you could have this charm. Crafted by our master craftsman of the town. Let’s you open them safely, just hold it in your hands like so." Erick wrapped the stringed charm, shaped like a flame with a wicked face on it, on his wrist before unwrapping it.

"Make you warm and resistant to cold when you touch ‘em cold items, so use when necessary. That's really all of it. You could have your break in an hour and a half." Mettel all took it in and asked to be clarified on some parts he couldn't understand. After that, he was left to his own devices. The work did keep his mind busy, enough to remove the gloom from his heart somewhat. The time passed by and it was already one hour and half when break time was given to all the workers, who oddly enough seemed kind of relaxed. Mettel followed the others to the canteen and sat down in one of the benches whilst sipping some water. His ears couldn't help but overhear.

"I wonder... games probably like... Aether rush... , or... Monster Relay."

"Those are... join Capture the Lost... Pyramid Crash... Tug of War, Francis would win that event." It was fragmented but he could make out enough. Sadly, most of those games would involve standing out. What would people think if someone like him joined?

"White haired freak." Mettel muttered.

.....

Time passed by and he was about to complete the job by dusk. Erick didn't seem to check up on him not once, strangely enough. Just as Mettel was about to finish, due to his negligence, he bumped into a wooden cart. His elbow stung, electrified. Then a large crash banged which made him jump. He looked behind and saw the chest on top of the crate had toppled down—its lock broken. Cold air seeped out from it.

"Oh no." He tried to replace the wrapped-up bundle into the chest hurriedly but the frost-covered surface made him flinch away. His hands hurt like hell.

"Oh, oh, I have to put on the wrist band." As he wrapped it around with shaking numb hands, he saw a cute-looking ice cream. Cute, because it was shaped in a fish-like design. It particularly caught his attention because it was unpacked, no plastic or whatever. At least it was frozen so it wasn't like it was dirty. Looking a bit, he saw it came from a box of those ice creams. An impulse came to him.

"Why not steal it?" But why? Because it would be tasty. It does look tasty. He shook his head but then someone opened the door fast. It was Erick.

"What happenin in here, kid- Oh, it fell down. An accident?" He asked calmly. Mettel had already gazed away, afraid to meet his eyes.

"Hey kiddo, sometimes accidents happen. We're all human, and you of course couldn't probably see a small chest on top of a large crate. Here, let me help ya." Then he suddenly raised his hand and arced it in an instant. Mettel flinched. But there was no slap.

"Heh. Got you thinkin' I'm bout to whoop you didn't I? Relax, jus' pranking you. You gotta remember—I'm the one who asked you for this, so it would be my fault whatever mistake you did, follow me?" Erick patted his shoulders reassuringly.

"... I understand."

"Alright, now this chest block is heavy, give me the fire strap." Erick then methodically organized the items back in and replaced the chest back on top of the crate. He dusted his hands after taking off the strap.

"Whew. That's a portable refrigerator by the way. Really expensive stuff, as well as the things inside it. One product, the Glaciocarp ice cream, personally made by the ice sprinkles from their scales along with a Lactobovus’ milk. If you ever let a a fire-based monster taste one of these bad boys, they'll immediately be your friends for life. And I meant paralyzed for only a few minutes. Don't give it to a water-based monster though, they’ll jus gon’ get stimulated. Of course, its also safe to consume for humans. Popular with capital rich kids I heard." Erick talked a lot in his exposition that Mettel thought why was he even going this far. Perhaps it was to educate him? But said value of the frozen ice cream which he pocketed made him feel scared and yet excited. Then Erick plopped out a wrapped plastic bread roll from his jacket, from earlier.

"Your pay, by the way. Come here sit in the couch." The two sat in the couch, Mettel instinctively followed. When he was given the bread roll, his stomach grumbled. Erick chuckled to his embarrassment as he ate it. It was cold.

"Though it's cold, it should still be one of the best breads you ever tasted. Litney's family are magicians, I tell you."

"Ruh'y?" Mettel asked.

"Err ah no, that was just a figure of speech." Then they were quiet. Through all the silence, Erick side glanced at him, with a smirk on.

"Don’t worry so much, kid," Erick says, patting his shoulder. "Tomorrow’s the festival. Have fun. Ya ain't have a damn need to prove yourself t' anyone—just be a kid for a while." Mettel only nodded after a second or two. He didn't really buy what Erick said. Be a kid? With no parents and no friends? How could he become 'just' a kid after all he went through?

Erick then continued to talk to himself all the while, ranging from the fun activities and events to what he's planning himself. Not much of interested Mettel except for the popular legend of the shooting star where someone could make a wish to it.

"Way back when—centuries ago, they say—a streak of light cut through the night sky, gleamin’ like a diamond in a dark bed of sparkling stars. Folks been talkin’ 'bout it ever since. Some say it had all kinds of colors, like a heavenly rainbow trailin’ behind it. Others? They figure it was just bright white—like a spark shot outta one of the Great Human’s Tezhe. And then there’s the version folks use to scare their kids—a big ol’ fire-breathin’ dragon, shootin’ across the sky faster than you’d believe." Erick let out a chuckle.

"But the story most folks go with around Lapas Dejuren continent—that it was the descent of the celestial huntress herself. The one who blesses monster hunters, harvests, and the essence of the Hunt. A star-made goddess, they say—carryin’ a bow forged straight from the cosmos. Every arrow she let fly? That was a shootin’ star, lightin’ up the night and takin’ down the baddest monsters that ever dared to roam. And it all started when that very star wiped out a fearsome beast—a Borelynx Raja."

"A- a Borelynx Raja?" Mettel knew of that monster. It was a mixture of bear, leopard, and boars into one creature. Its height reaching over 30 meters and 17 meters wide. Limbs as thick as a huge tree. Such a fearsome beast could eviscerate a fortress town. Erick continued.

"See, folks always believed that every time one of them flyin’ stars showed up, a monster got took down. Later on, it turned into a whole celebration—an’ that’s how we got this festival comin’ up. They say that same star’s supposed to show up again, bringin’ the blessin’ of the Celestial Huntress. But don’t hold your breath, kid—it don’t always show."

"Do you believe in that legend, Mr. Erick?" Erick shook his head.

"I ain't. But why not, though? I just don’t do it myself, you feel me? Sometimes you hear 'bout it in other hunters’ stories.""

"I think, I heard something about that from Mr. Hartold, actually." Erick raised his brows.

"That the legend of flying star had some merit to it. He did say something about a goddess-like being, a human, who had contented against one of the Ancients. But also, it was such a long time ago that the records might not be accurate. The aftermath of their great battle resulted in the formation of the Thousand Mile Valley."

"Oh yeah, what else did the old pops say?" Mettel scrunched up his lips, narrowing his eyes.

"That err, that people need something to believe in to get through hard times? I am not sure if I trust that though..."

"That old man's somethin' else. Anyway, kid," Erick stood up and helped the boy get up, "It's . Let me come with you." But the boy shook his head.

"It's not that dark nor that far. I won't get lost."

"You a big boy then, I like it. Go to sleep early, a'ight?" Mettel nodded. And the boy went home with a ponderous expression. Scenes of earlier kept popping in his mind, the sunset ruby-hued town made him feel something. So what if there's a festival tomorrow? Why does he need to participate in this stupid event? Questions, questions spun round his mind. But then, he noticed something, his left thigh felt absolutely cold. In fact, his left pocket was frozen.

“Oh sh—” The boy hurriedly ran back home. The moment he did, he placed the strangely enough still-frozen ice cream onto the table. Mettel was seriously regretting this.

“Perhaps I should just give it back…” But upon remembering it was very delicious he had to reconsider. The ice cream pack had like 50 pieces on it anyway. Surely one couldn’t hurt? This must be expensive too; he could sell it if he ever needed pocket change.

“I’ll keep it for a special occasion.” Mettel stashed it away in the refrigerator—the greatest invention of the century as people praised it for. Some scientist with an ice-related Tezhe managed to create this after all.

Jolting out of his thoughts, he saw the same note from his master still placed on the same spot by the side. Master Hartold hadn't taught him anything yet. The reasoning; because he wasn't ready. What a load of dung, Mettel thought. Why does he need this profoundly confusing state of spiral alignment, saying like "—you'll know when you get there, that’s when you will have your Tezhe". Or when he becomes the age of 14 if the former doesn't work, only then could he learn the old man's arts. His anger rose, and remembering that giant figure, that white monstrosity brought the burbling red to a new height.

"Someday, someday, I won't be powerless to face you." Mettel shook his head and decided to have his dinner: a normal bread, sausage, a strip of pork meat, and water.

‘Tomorrow would be hard.’ He thought. But what did the festival have to with him? He didn't want any part of that anyway.

Having nothing else to do, he went to bed very early. only falling asleep after a long-time past midnight. After a new day arrived, it was the day of the festival. Mettel did not get enough sleep—though he would greatly need it for the next coming of days. Important days.