It took two days for me to heal before I could begin training. Loosening up my body from the wounds they gave me as if I am a mutt in need of training. However, for the past several days, I have been training like a madman. Fear of sitting in one spot forces me to continue moving. Not stopping for a second, not even when I break to meditate, or awaken from meditation to begin training once more. It isn’t wise, I know that, but when I stop. The last time I saw my parents flickering through my mind like a black stain on a new clothes. You try to scrub it away, try using different cleaning tactics, yet it only fades a bit.

The former green grass worn down into fine dirt from my constant practice. Bits of it even floated on the wind like feathers that didn’t want to stop flying high. I licked my dry lips, tasting a bit of dirt that crunched under my teeth. Something to wash my mouth out is in demand, or at least that would have been my priority. The flatlander stood in her usual spot, watching. This time that bastard came with her, the sharped-face servant. He stood with his back straight, and that look of annoyance plastered on his face. It made me wonder what it would be like if he didn’t have to act like a faithful dog.

“Master wants you. Clean up.” The servant sniffed as if he smelled something foul.

It makes sense to me now, why the old hunters used to bring a belt to their hounds. If you let them bark for too long, they forget they are dogs, and think they are just like you. Only time is lacking, and the moment I make up for it. That dog is going to learn why it is best not to run foul of better predators.

I turned the side of the house, fetched the bucket out the well, and washed myself. I tipped the now dirty water onto the ground, and went to dress in my summer clothes. A loose, white tunic, and black, cotton pants kept me cool enough that I would only sweat out half the water I digested.

“You look decent.” The servant looked over at me, and then walked away. The fool stopped, and glanced back as if he felt annoyed to tell me to follow him.

The grin that fought to surface died in my throat, and I turned to the strange girl who couldn’t hide her desire. Except that desire wasn’t filled with lust, or thoughts of friendship. To others, she might have looked infatuated with me, but I have seen such looks among men to know that she only wanted to possess me temporarily. Once bored, I would just be an aftertaste that she would replace with a sweet dessert.

With little choice, I hurried after the dog. He led me through the compound, where they replaced the flowers along the path with some kind flower consisting of purple petals, and golden buds. The old dog continued walking past the point that I remembered, to this market that sat within the compound. Looking back afforded me a perfect view of the wall that separated the true city from this mirco-town. The people weren’t dressed similar to hunters, or even the women folk. They wore a variety of dresses with short sleeves. Some didn’t even go down to the ankles but swirled around the knees. The women’s hair sat up in sweeping arches around their heads. A few wore tight hair buns with decorative sticks crossing through them. The men that looked entirely too soft like flatlanders from my home, wore button up shirts with frilly cuffs. Some of them wore their hair down, while others kept it in a braid, with swords dangling at their hips.

The smell of roasted meat left my stomach jumping with hope. I peeled my eyes away so as to avoid too big of a disappointment, and found the dog walking through a building that stood with arching doors that vaulted well over the traffic. Inside sounded like a waterfall of noise, from cheering to cries of despair far worse than what my stomach gave off after passing those food stalls. The crowd standing left not even a wink of light passed through them. However, the dog led us along the wall, behind some columns, towards the southern half of the spacious building that could probably fit five of my town square inside.

At the south side, I understood what is required of me upon seeing the arenas, and one man standing there with his arms cross. A hand pushed against my back, and I stumbled across the gray slates covered with a dark layer of dirt. I glanced back at the dog servant, hoping he understood my gaze that promised him pain. Now, I didn’t even want to wait until I held the strength to escape. The moment nobody else is around, I would pummel that dog servant until he recognized that I am not like the others.

“Get in. Don’t lose,” the dog barked, grinning as if he expected me to be beaten.

Shaking my head, I looked at the other man who had a little dust on him. He flexed his muscles, and looked at me like I am just a quick snack. He said something that I couldn’t understand but the bell rang. The fool came at me, clapping his hands, rotating his neck.

This is a joke, no? This guy contained more than forty openings, and I couldn’t even be bothered to account for the flaws within his body refinement. This could not be a worthy opponent of even the dog servant, much less me.

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My father was a bloody Hunter. I’m a bloody hunta!

I jumped up, planting my foot on his chin, and watched the fine sand follow my heel. Even before my feet landed on the ground again, the joke of an opponent slammed into the arena. The vibrations of his impact ran up my toes, and settled into my heels. I didn’t hold back at all, and I knew the guy wasn’t long for the other side. His blood is already mixing into the sand, spreading out to add a little color to the brown and gray arena.

The crowd sat in silence like this is that moment before the arrow released, and a prey was taken down.. Did they forget to cheer or did they really think that this guy would be able to beat me just because I’m a small hunter compared to my father? I didn’t even know whether or not to be insulted.

Some kids walked in, and dragged the fool out. This time the brute who jumped in made me feel a little threatened, much like how you realized that a dog is capable of biting you because it is born with sharp teeth. This brute got into one of those flatlanders boxing stances. Hands up in a fist, leg out front, and bent. Fool hunched, and centered.

Grains of sand swept up into my hand, forming a sword in both hands. The guy's eyes widened, and he glanced at what must have been his employers. It’s at that moment that I dashed forward. My left blade gathered sand on the tip from being dragged behind me. The fool took two steps back, and blasted out a fiery fist imprint that I batted aside with my hardened sand sword. I didn’t get into his range after seeing the fist imprint, but I was more than close enough to throw my sword.

The sword whistled through the air faster than the man’s punching speed. It punched right through his chest, lifting him off his feet, and slamming him onto his back. Unlike the last guy, it took him a bit to die.

We both knew he was dead, but he probably didn’t even realize how the sandstone sword left my hand. Nor how it punched through his chest. I wasn’t inclined to tell him.

A small part of the crowd cheered, but I could not be bothered to understand a word they said. Instead, the Servant beckoned for me to leave the ring. I walked out, and stood behind the Servant who glanced up to the second floor. He nodded his head, and turned to me.

“Follow me,” the Servant said.

Without waiting for me to find out who he saw up there, he turned, and left. I hurried after him, dispelling the sword because I already knew it was useless to kill the Servant. There were many auras much stronger than this Servant like the Soldier who fell in step beside the Servant. They led me to a stable, and someone pushed a horse in front of me. I climb up just in time to see the mala climb behind me. She wrapped her arms around my waists, and her honey breath curled my neck hairs.

The dead of summer, and she sat uncomfortably close to the point that the oppressive heat brought bowl-sized beads of sweat racing down my back. It didn’t help that the Servant, and Soldier raced out of the compound. The wind whipped up by our fast paced left me wishing I learned array formations skills like my Sestra.

We passed underneath blankets dangling from fishing lines that stretched across the roads from buildings to buildings. Past street hawkers filling my nose with fragrant foods that forced my stomach to growl in protest. A gate grew before us then shrunk soon after we flew through it. Up ahead was nothing but golden heads, and mountains in the great distances. It was hard to guess how long we ran or how great these horse stamina were but soon we stopped in a clearing split by a rushing river wider than five logs.

The Soldier got down from his horse, and threw a sheath longsword with a wooden handle at me.

“A boat will pass through here in a bit. We will attack it,” he said.

I caught the sword, and jumped out of the embrace of the mala who seemed very interested to watch me loosen up. It’s beyond creepy. I am kind of thinking about making her have some kind of accident. Just to teach her that I wasn’t one to be used like a toy for her amusement.

In a surprised twist of sorts, the boat didn’t come over the bend nor show up as the sun began to set. The Soldier and Servant sat down while Mala grew a chair, and umbrella out of a tree. She sat down, and fetched a book from somewhere, reading as if this was just another day.

Which one of us is mistaken about what we are supposed to be doing?

Hm?

Standing around looking like an idiot wasn’t something I planned to do, but with the Servant and Soldier sitting against a tree fiddling with a piece of branch. All I could do was continue to pace around. The moment the twin suns dipped over the towering green domes, the Soldier got up, and began building a fire. The mala didn’t move from her comfortable spot, but then I am left to start my own campfire.

My stomach began to growl, and the smell of their food cooking just egged it on. I decided to test their limits by walking into the treeline. My intent isn’t to run away as the Soldier could have easily found me, and I didn’t want to be injured for something so silly. I kept my ears open, and silently walked through the woodlands. It didn’t take long before I caught the movement of a green snake moving along a branch. It was almost hidden by the broad leaves, but my senses were already taut from trying to see if the soldier would come for me.

A quick flash of my blade, and the snake’s head hit the dry leaves. I removed its body from the tree, and headed back. Skinning, and removing the internal organs while I walked. I picked up a decent flat rock, washed it in the river, and cooked my snake. Trying not to pay attention to the looks given by that smug dog, but the bastard came over. He paced around me, while wearing a gloating smile that made me want to rise, and pound his face into the pebble shore.

Instead, I gritted my teeth, and listened to the fire crackle. The crickets and owls added to the serenity, and I quickly forgot about my dislike of the dog. Because the memory of fire on the horizon reminded me of what I did not have, that he did.