CHAPTER 33: AN ILLUSION OF A HUNT
First, her song changed, discordant to her radiant twin’s prophetic hymn of joy and doom.
Gail’s long, loud whistle was barely audible over the ruckus that erupted at the sight of the horde of monstrosities. After nearly twenty minutes of marching, Vex’s softly glowing blade winking its way through the trees, the guilds had come to a complete stop at their destination, marked in the trees by flapping pennants of eggplant purple. Kerr led his procession of armor-encased bodies a few steps closer to the edge, Ruba’s auburn curls shadowing close to his shoulder.
Gaping up from the ground, as though gouged from the earth by the fingers of some forgotten, enormous hand, yawned the mouth of a wide ravine. Careening sharply, its sides cut off not a pace away from where Kerr stood to drop dangerously down into a gargantuan bowl-like belly. Rising from the ground at the bottom like a sea of tiny tables were hundreds of stumps, which Briddy guessed to be newly cut by the looks of sawdust that piled between them. Final Sunrise must’ve been hard at work here.
The object of Gail’s whistle and the school’s agitation was streaming in from one end where the ground sloped down into the ravine, a massive pack of scaly hide and layered muscle pounding over the ground, large maws and roaring snouts snapping at one another as a veritable menagerie of monstrosities barreled into the prepared area. Bridget leaned closer, squinting to see if she could get a glimpse of a herder or two on one of the six screens, but all she caught were a few flashes of magic at the very back of the pack, briefly illuminating the trees as it drove the creatures forward.
Sitting back, she grumbled. “You’d think six perspectives would be able to give a decent view.”
“Huh?” Tuck said from behind her, leaning forward a little.
“Nothing, I just-” Bridget began.
“They’re nearly in, they’re nearly in!” A hand tugged on her sleeve, pulling Bridget back around to find Gail bouncing excitedly where she sat atop the blanket.
Kerr must’ve said something similar to her mother, because she nodded and shook her sleeves back, taking a fistful of ball bearings out from the pouch at her side. Bridget spotted movement on one of the other feeds, but Lady Carmine’s commentary beat her eyes to the punch.
“Opening volleys being prepared by the Gilded Down and Teradish Coalition, as agreed in the hunt pact. Molten Flail, Imbar Company, and Titan’s Breath will provide a blockade to the other end.
Bridget noticed that the earlier cheer in her teacher’s voice seemed somewhat more subdued now, but the energy remained as her husband chimed in: “Trap them and break them apart! A classic strategy with little downside. Of course, healing and support will be offered by the Final Sunrise, along with materials provided by our sponsors at Fennel’s Potion Outpost.”
Before Lord Carmine could spit out another slogan at his captive audience, Ruba’s arm snapped up, flinging the spheres of metal high into the air. Briddy knew that she should’ve been watching whatever incantation her mother cast upon them, but her eyes were caught by her father’s rough face, partially out of focus as the perspective centered upon her mother, gazing down into the ravine, with an expression of pure disgust chiseled deep into his face.
It wasn’t that far off from how he had looked at her when she told him– her attention caught Adelaide, blonde hair braided back in twin tails, huddled behind both of them and also not watching their mother’s display. Rather, her older sister was chewing on her lip, one hand gripping the leather-bound handle of her weapon with completely white knuckles. The other was fidgeting with a buckle near her shoulder, an ornamental clasp made of silver that looked almost like a brooch for the craftsmanship. Bridget’s eyes narrowed. Was perfect, talented Adelaide nervous?
She didn’t get the chance to look closer as Ruba’s arm dropped, and the ball bearings followed. Or rather, what had been the ball bearings. For what had begun the spell as a handful of tiny spheres of metal no bigger than the peas one might eat at dinner hurtled down from the sky larger than some boulders Bridget had seen. Streaking around them were hundreds of arrows and spells launched from other members of Gilded Down and Teradish, providing a chaotic rain that preceded the massive spell into the pack.
Briddy could see the way the ground shuddered, trees quaking like frightened children each time one of Ruba’s enormous metal spheres shot its way into the pack. A spray of crimson gore followed each impact, followed closely by the verdant downpour of pine needles from the boughs of surrounding trees.
“Shame we can’t see the pack better,” Gail muttered, eyes strangely bright as she leaned forward in her seat. “It’s hard to see the real impact of the damage the Guild’s barrage did from where they’re at.”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Bridget shook her head. “Just wait for it.”
On cue, Lady Carmine’s voice calmly came in overhead, rattling off a list of names and numbers. “That is one reporting for the Brisburr Longtwains of Teradish, two reporting for Hurvis the Egg of the Gilded Down, three for Hasin the Wanderer from Teradish Coalition, and five for Ruba Wrathbringer of the Gilded Down.”
Briddy’s mouth twisted. The pack hadn’t thinned much.
“Damn, Briddy.” Warrin whistled, thumping her on the shoulder. “Your mom-”
A roar went up from their right, followed by a chant.
“Burn bright! BURN BRIGHT!”
Her eyes snapping open, Bridget raced to find the Imbar Company’s Scrying perspective. She was just barely in time to catch long-curled Roddy Heelbane swooping her long arms back in a dramatic flourish complete with spinning chakrams, lifting hundreds of thousands of pine needles into the air and setting them ablaze. A sinuous leg extended out to bend her into an exaggerated bow, releasing the flaming cloud into the ravine.
Tuck frowned, leaning forward. “I thought Imbar was supposed to be focusing on the blockade!” He said in an outraged voice. “Why are you smiling?” The question was directed at Briddy, who had broken into a wry grin.
“Look at mother.” She said.
Up in the air above them, Ruba’s beautiful countenance, which had earlier been curled into a pleased smile, had twisted into a scowl at the sight of the burning needles piercing into the creatures below. Kerr was in the background bellowing something down at the three guilds clustered at the end of the ravine, face apoplectic.
“They can’t stand each other. Only person she hates more than Terna is Roddy because Roddy’s been out-performing her since they went here.” Briddy explained.
As if to seal her words, Lord Carmine came on: “Yes and a…ah, surprise contribution from Roddy Heelbane of Imbar Company has brought six additional kills to the initial volley. Now that the element of surprise is gone, the Guildhunt will need to move quickly before the monstrosities get a chance to stampede, taking advantage of the chaos caused by that first strike.”
Like floodwaters bursting the burgeoning walls of a dam, the Guilds streamed into the ravine.
“And they’re off!” Lord Carmine narrated.
Their charge began so quickly that it caught even Bridget off guard, her eyes racing to catch familiar relics popping up across different perspectives in slightly unfamiliar forms. The silken sheen of Warrin’s daggers twirled and danced over his father’s wrist, leaving smoky trails where they cut the air. Bridget could’ve even sworn she saw a silver bow twinkling like Parvati’s had used too, arcing arrows of radiant light high up into the air.
Despite the harsh cut of the landscape, the hunters hopped, slid, and horizontally ran their way down into the depths of the prepared arena, the perspective finally revealing the aftermath of the ranged assault. The fanged, snarling mouths of a pack of Gravelks were currently buried in the upper half of a Kelpine’s corpse, ripping flesh and viscera from its bones as they ate. A particularly large one, its hand-shaped antlers bigger across than any of the combatants on the field, had several arrows sticking at haphazard angles out of its hide but seemed unbothered.
At the moment the Guilds entered the belly of the ravine, a creature leapt from the shadows, landing weightily on some hunters near the forefront of the Molten Flail’s charge. Briddy winced as they folded under the rippling black mass like grass to a rock, the beast snapping a long furry neck out to catch a head between its jaws, popping it off as though it were a berry on a bush. Chewing upon its prize, the creature threw its head back, presumably letting out some sort of cry, and chaos broke loose as both sides met each other in a bloody handshake of magic, steel, claw, and tooth.
“There goes Tula!” Warrin said, jingling his purse in his hands.
Charging out from under the brown banners was a young woman, her hair tightly gathered save for a pair of separated locks hanging down by her face and a warhammer readied in her hands. She dodged a couple of guildmates who tried to hold out arms of warning, ducking under the swooping claws of a BoneEagle that narrowly missed her shaggy hair. Leaping over the bodies of the fallen hunters, Tula swung the hammer down in a mighty hack towards the monstrosity, who was still contentedly chewing its snack, its eyes closed. At the last moment, its round, wide head snapped around, a gaze of orange ringed by red fixating on the girl as her hammer crushed into— nothing.
Bridget blinked, shaking her head. There was nothing there. The creature was gone, and Tula Two-Hit had just swung a warhammer into a pile of corpses.
Luckily, she wasn’t the only one that seemed to be confused by this development, as hundreds of necks craned between the numbered feeds, trying to figure out what had just happened.
“First time seeing one in action, eh?” Gail snorted, pushing the air through her nose in a long, sharp sound. “Nimbus Leopards will play with your mind and eat you for dinner while you’re still trying to sort out the ground from the sky.”
Tula Two-Hit didn’t seem to be any better off than they were, her head swiveling back and forth as she searched for the creature, pushing past a pair of purple-clad Final Sunrise scouts that were dragging the corpses away. Bridget let her attention snap back to the perspective beneath it, the golden feather still pointing down as though to accuse her of not paying attention.
A merry dance of violence and gore sprayed in crimson fans around the perspective while clusters of hunters with blue tabards and shields slammed into the thick-scaled hide of a Mountaincore, driving it towards Teradish and Imbar. It took Bridget a moment to spot her father amongst the melee, craggy face relaxed in eerie calm as he swung and stabbed. Adelaide was near his side, crushing the skull of an unlucky Marrowboar that charged too close with her twin maces. Throwing an arm out behind him, Kerr pushed her down as the cruel, seeking talons of a BoneEagle clutched at the air where both their heads had been moments before, the claw’s grasp more than large enough to hold a fully grown man. Her family members barely had time to stand and turn before they disappeared underneath the onslaught of an enormous Gravelk, its hooves flying.
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Bridget had to remind herself to breathe, her hands so tightly bunched into the fabric of her clothes it took her a moment to work them out so she could wipe the cold sweat collecting in their palms as her father briefly popped out from underneath the creature. She wished that she could find it in her to feel some grain of the excitement and anticipation that her peers enjoyed, but this entire experience was more stressful than anything else.
It wasn’t that she didn’t feel pride, watching Vex dart and dance through the air, the relic flowing in her father’s hands like it never could in hers. But seeing the well-muscled bulk of her father surface, slamming his shoulder into a monstrosity over twice his size before swinging the shining blade through the throats of two pouncing Kelpines with ease…Would that be her one day? Golden and shining, with a huddled pile of feathers, claws, and gore strewn about her feet?
Bridget was vaguely aware of the whoops going up behind her, not even turning to figure out which Guild’s supporters were up in arms as she searched the Gilded Down’s feed for Adelaide’s blonde head. Had she surfaced behind Kerr?
“-UILD A-GAIN! BUILD A-GAIN! BUILD A-GAIN!” Students roared behind her.
Bridget growled, trying to shut the chant out as she desperately searched for her sister. “Can’t Titan’s Breath stuff it for one minute?” She snapped after their cheering continued.
“Two-hit’s on the Nimbus Leopard!” Gail responded.
“Good for her,” Bridget grumbled, finally spotting Adelaide with one arm clutching her side. She was regrouping next to a Final Sunrise healer, bright eyes scanning the skies of the battlefield before her. Leaning forward, Briddy narrowed her eyes in thought, an expression mirrored in her sister’s when she stood seconds later, regripping the hilts of her maces and using them to gently swat the medic’s hands away.
It was impossible to see what her sister was so focused on up in the air, but Bridget had seen that look before, and it usually resulted in things like dangling Briddy outside of a window by her ankles or starting a tavern brawl with the nearest thug. Her sister sprinted back into the fray, making a direct line for their father’s side.
Like always. Briddy thought, still bereft of any answer from Vex.
“YES!” Gail roared, echoed by Tuck and Warrin as she cheered.
Begrudgingly, Bridget relented her attention from the Gilded Down and followed the commotion over to perspective number three. Warhammer abandoned, Tula now fought with a pair of twin blades the length of her arms, harrying and assaulting the Nimbus Leopard alongside a guildmate with an axe. Her furious onslaught of steel was occasionally punctuated by magic, the strikes so quick it appeared that she was, in fact, striking twice for every one hit her comrade managed to eke out.
Enraged by the blows, the monstrosity bared blood-tinted teeth as it darted and weaved, the edges of its form blurring and bloodying under the Titan’s Breath onslaught. Pressing on, the huntress gritted her teeth and drove it against the ravine wall, her guildmate lunging into the Nimbus Leopard’s path when it tried to jump away. Jerking back unnaturally in the air, the slim night-black form twisted in a half loop before curving back down to meet Tula once more, orange-red eyes narrowed with hate.
Briddy shifted in her seat. “Nothing should move like that,” she murmured, turning to Gail. “When have you-”
Gail’s grip closed over her arm with steely fingers, shaking her slightly. Her friend didn’t even answer, eyes intensely locked on Tula Two-Hit, who was now staggering back, one sword uselessly knocked to the side while the other quavered under the claws of the Nimbus Leopard. Her guildmate was yards away, blocked off by several Marrowboars that were trying to charge him down. Tula Two-Hit was alone, and judging by the way her legs were shaking, running out of time.
Bridget looked around the Titan’s Breath perspective for any other guilds, any other combatants that were nearby, but the huntress took action before any aid might’ve reached her. Before she could fall under the Nimbus Leopard’s bulk, it was Tula’s turn to twist, letting the blade carry the monstrosity’s momentum with it. She barely had a second after it hit the ground to magic her other blade into her free hand, spinning around to a wide, gleeful grin while the tip of her weapon sped towards the black bulk that was scrabbling to recover.
Tula shuddered forward, almost too fast for Briddy to catch.
The tip of an enormous, bulbous red tail, covered in tiny yellow spikes shot through her chest, ripping through the flesh and protruding from beneath her collarbone in a spray of blood.
Gail’s hand slipped from Bridget’s arm, the fingers limp.
Tula’s face was still smiling as her body was limply lifted into the air, raised high by the chitinous, barbed tail to dangle in front of a pair of uncaring, blank eyes, their very edges rimmed by red. Each one of those eyes was easily the size of Tula Two-Hit’s Head, set in an enormous face covered with coarse fur. Its lips curled back as it considered the corpse that dangled from its tail, leaking blood and viscera all over the ground.
Bridget swallowed, the breath knocked out of her. It didn’t come back. She swallowed again, nearly choking when the creature’s many-toothed maw yawned wide, as though to invite Tula’s remains into its belly. Rather than consume her in a few bites, the creature flicked its tail, sending Tula Two-Hit flying off into the trees like a piece of discarded meat at the butcher’s block. Throwing its shaggy head back, her killer let what must’ve been a truly fearsome roar, for every creature nearby flinched as it went on, opening wide, leathery wings attached to its back. On the ground, the Nimbus Leopard slunk away, scurrying back toward the shadows.
“Sculptor be.” Tuck breathed, and beside him Asher briefly closed his eyes, exhaling.
“Mountaincore,” Bridget said, shocked by how flat her voice sounded.
Warrin choked. “I don’t remember them being that big.” He managed to rasp out.
Over their heads, Lady Carmine continued to read off occasional kill numbers that various Guild members earned, but made no mention of Tula Two-Hit. Deaths of the fallen were never counted during the hunt, only after. Despite this, the roaring section behind the Gilded Down’s supporters had gone quiet, and it was a long moment before the shaking chant of “Build again!” rose up.
Through all this, Gail had remained ramrod straight, barely looking away from the screens to acknowledge what was happening. It was the sharp snap of her head away from Molten Flail and a trio of Gravelks that brought Bridget’s breath rushing back in. Something in the Gilded Down’s feed had caught her attention, and Briddy hadn’t been watching.
Cursing her inability to not shake Tula’s death quicker, Bridget followed suit.
Adelaide was on the move, their father not far behind her, pelting the BoneEagles overhead with a series of throwing knives. Once a few found purchase in the bloodstained feathers creatures, and she had bought their ire, the pair began sprinting for the slope from which the pack had first entered the ravine.
Following overhead in wide, lazy circles, the monstrosities followed, tracking them closely. Barely had Adelaide set foot on the hill when the first BoneEagle swooped, tucking the enormous expanse of its wings close to its body. Adelaide came to a sudden halt, sheathing her maces and spinning around to face her father, who drove Vex’s gold blade deep into the chest of the first feathered fiend. Crouching low, she set off at a sprint, that look back in her eyes as she barreled towards Titanium Kerr, who turned so his back to her, keeping an eye towards the rest of the swooping birds overhead.
Just before she was due to smack flat into the wall of their father’s bulk, Kerr crouched low, and Adelaide bent her knees, springing up to catch momentary footing on his shoulders as he stood, launching her high into the air, and onto the next BoneEagle’s back. Quick as you please, her mace was out again, and promptly flung forward into the skull of the creature on whose back she rode. Kerr, his part in whatever plan they had made now complete, turned back to survey the battlefield with a zealous swing of Vex.
Bridget followed suit, glancing across the feeds. Imbar and Teradish were struggling to barely contain the Mountaincore with chains, magic, and nets, Kelpines were running wild over Titan’s Breath, and Molten Flail was still sadly assaulted by the trio of GraveElks. Any number of these battles would have been a worthy hunt for Titanium Kerr, and yet her father…stood…still. Planting Vex’s large golden blade point down into the ground, he stood at the bottom of the slope with his hands resting on the massive hilt.
“What’s he doing?” Tuck pulled on Briddy’s sleeve, causing her to swat back at him when it drooped too low on her arm.
She was in the middle of pulling her collar back up yet again and about to answer when Asher beat her to the punch.
“He’s hunting for it. The one that got away.”
Bridget looked back at him, eyebrows raised. She wasn’t the only one.
“What?” The Alchemist held up his hands defensively. “Briddy gets the same look when she’s searching for something.”
Eyeing him up and down, Bridget let the comment go unanswered. It was in no small amount unnerving to have him read her father as easily as she could, and Asher already had a habit of reading her well.
Moments later, Titanium Kerr strode forward, relic readied in his hands. There, limping off in the shadows of the ravine, was the inky mass of the Nimbus Leopard. The two seemed to bare their teeth together in grim acknowledgment as Kerr approached the wounded beast, who did not wait for him to get close before lashing out.
Curling out from its paws in a wicked shine, the Nimbus Leopard’s long claws reached for Titanium Kerr’s throat as the creature pounced, met at the last second by the upward swing of Vex’s blade. Rather than halting in a bone-shaking clash of keratin and metal, the weapon cut through air, carrying Kerr forward on its momentum. Where the beast had been just seconds before was now just inky darkness, coiling like a suspended cloud after her father stumbled through.
Bridget’s hands closed into fists as she tried to look for where it went, but the Nimbus Leopard was quicker than her eyes.
“That’s another kill for Ruba Wrathbringer of the Gilded Down-” Lord Carmine’s voice said overhead, the words barely registering as the creature reappeared at her father’s side, battering his legs with a mighty swipe. The blow took his balance, and Kerr fell to his back, Vex already moving to ward off the Nimbus Leopard’s bulk with the flat of its blade. When the monstrosity pounced, he pushed up, rolling with the movement to throw the creature, which was bigger than he was, completely over his head and to the ground behind.
Cheers erupted around Bridget, startling her into releasing her grip. Her classmates roared their approval as Kerr got to his feet only seconds before the Nimbus Leopard, the monstrosity tripping over its injured limb. They met again and again, clashing and slashing to try and land a blow, the creature teleporting or tricking every time her father got too close, and Kerr responding with technique and training when it did.
It was a hunter from the Teradish Coalition, the closest guild besides the Imbar Company, who charged in from behind the creature to break their cycle, a spear readied in his hand. Several others were close behind, including Hasin the Wanderer, and Bridget could spot a wave of blue armor pushing its way to him as well. She wasn’t the only one that had spotted the backup; the Nimbus Leopard’s wide head whipped around to snarl a quick greeting at the spearman.
Seeing his opening, Kerr pressed the advantage, driving Vex forward in a lunging strike. Like oil repelling water, the creature jerked back from the blade, and Bridget’s father sank into a backhanded spin at the same time as the green-clothed hunter struck. For a second, it almost looked like they had the creature, but then the very tip of the spear met where the Nimbus Leopard should have been, and the creature’s image dissolved into a haze.
Kerr’s eyes widened as he cut through the fog, and Vex sliced into the stomach of the hunter who had come to his aid. Staggering forward, the man clutched at his bowels, desperately trying to keep all of the viscera inside him before he toppled to the ground. Her father reached a hand out as though to help him up, but suddenly jerked it away, flailing behind him.
The Nimbus Leopard had reared up, digging its claws deep into his shoulder while its jaws crushed into the armor encasing his side, crumpling it like paper. Sinking to his knees, Kerr threw back his head in a silent roar of pain. Vex fell from his hand, blood-spattered hilt clattering to the ground as he tried to grapple with the monstrosity. The relic remained there for only a moment before it dissolved into golden mist, whisked away on unseen winds.
Up near the entrance to the ravine, Adelaide’s head snapped around, her mouth opening in a screaming reply to their father’s pain, anger and fear flashing through her eyes. Crushing her mace through the throat of the BoneEagle whose wing she had pinned beneath her boot, she took off in a dead sprint, dashing headlong towards where their father knelt.
Yet as Adelaide ran, Bridget’s veins froze cold, and a horrified gasp ran through the spectators. For it became clear that the obstacle Adelaide faced was not whether or not her sister would reach their father in time to save his life, nor whether she had the ability to. It was the Mountaincore, ripped free now that one of its chains had been left unattended by a well-intentioned spearman of the Teradish Coalition, and it was standing directly in her sister’s path.