"Hunting?" Sig asked as I lowered myself to the ground on shaking arms. Sweat crawled down my forehead and turned my shirt damp, both sensations doing their best to make me as uncomfortable as possible. Usually, I would not be quite so warm, but the air around me felt hot and humid, as it should. Traveler's Cloak was up, and exercising with that spell on was like moving with a thick blanket around me.

It turned unpleasant work into misery, but I had to save time and progress wherever possible. In a strange, masochistic way, I had almost come to enjoy this miserable training. Results were starting to make themselves known, and every time I was able to do one more pushup or run a few seconds longer, there was this tiny swell of confidence.

That did not make exercise pleasant, but it was what I held on to as I pushed back up, replying, "Y-yes, hunting. I need gold, and it soun-nded like the best choice at the time." my words halting as I finished the set. With that done, I sat back on my haunches, shaking both arms out and feeling blood pumping through muscles.

"It's not," Sig replied, folding his arms before barking, "And I didn't say rest yet. Keep moving!"

With an eye roll, I stood, moving into squats as I asked, "What is the problem with hunting?"

"For a hunter? Nothing. Great, honest profession, and there's nothing like meat you hunted yourself."

"But?"

"But you aren't a hunter. You're a spoiled advisor who never had to throw a punch, much less take a life. You're soft as a baby's ass, and a magical beast would rip you apart."

He might have a point, I had to admit, though I did not plan to abandon the idea. I just had to be careful and modify some things, though maybe he could give me a few tips.

"Well, assuming I was to go hunt something. What would you recommend?" I asked, trying to fake curiosity without making it evident that his tips would go into action within a day or two.

"You'd want armor or a defensive spell for starters. Both, if you could swing it, but at least one. A good weapon as well, preferably something with a long reach like a spear."

"What about a bow? Or magic?"

"A bow could work, but you need more training to get good with one. A crap shot leaves you with a pissed-off animal with an arrow sticking out of its side. Magic is the better pick, but it's slow at your level. You better make damn sure you either kill them in one hit or at least maim."

I sighed, rubbing my burning legs before responding, "I see your point. Still, I do not have many other options available."

Sig grunted, shrugging before shooting back, "Could always beg your lord for some gold, though I don't know how well that would work. Never met the man, but your mentor Grim is notoriously tight-fisted."

"Girem." I corrected, before realizing something, "You know his personality, but not his name?"

"He's got a reputation for his actions and personality, not his name. Besides, it's not his name that's the well-known one."

Silence fell on us as I moved into stretching, our workout for the day over. When I was nearly done, Sig sighed, looking down at me.

"Don't be an idiot. Pick something easy and low-risk."

"Of course, my lord. I wonder about many things, but what awaits us after death is a mystery that can wait for a few more decades."

After finishing up with Sig, I headed to my quarters and washed up, dropping Traveler's Cloak and focusing inward on my right arm. My improvised tool had worn a deep groove into the center of the blockages, and I could tell I was close to breaking it. The night prior, I thought of applying rotation to the 'chisel' and adding a point, creating a drill. When I tried the change, I made noticeably faster progress, along with earning a pounding headache.

If time were not limited, I would take Sig's advice, wait a few more weeks and prepare more. Within a few days, my right arm would clear, and I could theoretically cast twice as many spells in one day. But that was a delay I could not afford. Classes started within less than two weeks, and when that happened, I would never find the time to sneak off.

Once more, the Academy had prepared for most scenarios, and I found the bounty board located in the Archives, in a side alcove. It was effectively a large office with a moving blackboard, not unlike Master Julian's. Briefly, I wondered if he got the idea from them.

With a bit of willpower and concentration, I could alter the display to show available bounties within a certain radius and threat level. Like mages, we ranked magical beasts using the same density system, though this was less accurate. These creatures tended not to use mana in the form of spells but instead bound it to their flesh. The standard benefits tended towards improved physical abilities, such as speed or durability.

It did not escape my notice that this sounded familiar. The invader that killed my future counterpart had those sorts of abilities, though that seemed impossible. Ferris had tried and failed to replicate that trick for centuries. Most attempts ended with subjects twisted and mutated, with overgrown organs, warped bones, and cancerous tumors spread throughout their flesh.

If that was the case, how had these invaders managed where Ferris failed? Was there some secret that we never grasped?

Questions aside, rankings with magic beasts indicated approximate threat levels, meaning a Vapor mage and a Vapor-class beast were roughly equal.

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I asked for all Vapor-class beasts within five miles of Volaris and received a shortlist for my troubles. One bounty, the highest available, was to hunt and kill a bear and her two cubs, who had butchered several travelers near the outskirts of the capital. Another, slightly smaller, one was listed for several fox kits suspected of stealing livestock.

I zeroed in on the last of the choices, the closest and least dangerous of the lot; A herd of stonehorn deer regularly grazing on the crops at a nearby farm. It seemed like a good option, but the idea of hunting and killing such docile creatures felt almost wrong.

The adept minding the room seemed to notice my brief hesitation, asking, "A problem apprentice?"

"No, my lord. I am just curious about this bounty. Why hunt plant-eating species. Are they a threat?"

He laughed at that, replying, "Magical beasts grow by taking in more mana, usually by eating. Normally, predators keep the population in check, but we drove most of those off. If left to it, they could wipe out whole sections of farmland, though they are barely more than a pest at this point."

And that made them perfect for an inexperienced apprentice; Relatively weak, docile grazing beast. I nodded, thanked the adept, and requested the bounty for myself. The enchantment triggered, wiping that selection from this board and all others linked throughout Ferris. If nothing else, I would not have to worry about another mage snagging the reward, though it so low-risk and low-reward, none would.

The farm sat around five miles away, on Volaris' outskirts to the west of the city. An hour of brisk walking got me there, though I was a bit more tired than I cared to admit.

Throughout the farmlands, dozens of workers worked, tending the crops and ignoring my presence entirely. As I approached, an older man walked up to me. He looked in his fifties, with a slight hunch to his posture that spoke of several decades of hard work.

"You the mage? Little young, don't ya think?" he asked, scanning me up and down.

I smiled at his semi-insulting comment, responding, "I am fully confident I can handle your problem, sir. Please, lead me to the beasts."

He grunted, turning and walking away from me with barely a word. I noticed the stiff way he moved and caught a flash of white bandages from under his shirt. Were these beasts more dangerous than the bounty claimed? An injury might explain his rudeness and willingness to insult a mage. Few were brave enough, or dumb enough, to do that to one's face.

At the farms' edges, we found three deer grazing quietly on vegetables and tomatoes, if I was not mistaken. They looked large, close to eye level with me at least, with towering antlers extending from their heads. Two looked around the same size, but the third had a noticeably larger set, ending in wickedly sharp points.

I turned to the older man and asked, "Do they do anything besides graze all day?"

"Not usually. Sleep at night, but that's it. We can't get any closer, or that big one will attack." he replied, rubbing his stomach with a brief grimace.

"Antlers, not horns," I replied immediately, keeping my eyes on the creatures before continuing, "Antlers fall off, but horns are permanent."

"Antlers, horns, I don't care. I want them gone," he growled, and again I had to hold back a biting retort.

"You have my word, my lord. By the end of the day, they will be gone."

He muttered a response, turning and stalking away. I watched him for a brief second before sighing and kneeling onto the ground. Within a few seconds, I was working on breaking through the blockages in my right arm again. I had several hours until nightfall and might as well make the most of it.

----------------------------------------

The sun fell, and a chill settled into the air, cutting through my clothes and settling into my bones. It was not particularly late, but the three deer were diurnal, stopping their grazing around sunset before finding a place to sleep. They should be slow, full, and tired, which made it the ideal time to attack.

I rose from my position, casting Traveler's Cloak around myself before creeping forward. The spell had an unexpected side-effect, one I noticed a few days earlier during dinner. The same insulating bubble that kept me warm and dry also muffled noises and smells to an extent. Not enough to hide either, but it might let me get closer than I could typically manage.

The grass helped as well, soft enough to dampen my footsteps as I stalked forward. Each step was deliberate, and I rocked from heel to toe, careful to move low towards the ground. The deer sat a few hundred feet away, but at my pace, what should have taken a minute instead took almost ten to cross.

At thirty feet, I stopped and knelt to the ground, leveling my left hand at the nearest beast. My mana swirled, and I let out a low, even breath as I muttered the incantation and shaped the mana. I had only one good shot and aimed directly at the beast's head before firing my attack.

In the hands of a Vapor, Mana Bolt might stun, maybe even hurt the beast, but definitely nothing impressive. Even against the misnamed stonehorn deer, this spell would be little more than a mild injury.

But I was not a normal Vapor. I was an Aether mage, and when my Mana Bolt landed, it hit with the power of a Haze. The difference was immediately evident, the deer's head lashing to one side as a sickening, wet crunched echoed into the night. It felt limp, twitching spasmodically as its two companions stood in a flurry, shocked by the sudden burst of light, sound, and movement.

I gagged, nearly losing my stomach at the sight of a dying beast, and only the thought of dying kept me anywhere near focused. The closer of the two, another of the smaller beasts, turned to run, and I moved into the incantation, swallowing bile to speak as I weaved mana.

Again it struck, and again, there was a nauseating crunch as my attack took it in the leg. Bright white bone punctured through skin and fur, and again I gagged as it stumbled and fell, screeching horrifically in pain but disabled for the moment.

The third, the likely stag of the bunch, set twin onyx eyes on me. I wondered for a moment if it would flee or attack and was answered as it charged at full speed. I was not a talented or experienced warrior. I lacked years of battle, numbing my fears and learning to face down threats unflinching.

And so, like any other inexperienced, overconfident, fifteen-year-old, I froze. My limbs felt like stone, my heart a drum in my ears as razor-sharp antlers gleamed in the starlight. I watched them eat up the distance between us; Twenty, then fifteen, and then a mere ten feet.

It was there, with only a few feet to spare, that something broke, and I threw myself to the ground, jumping clear of the charge. My pitiful shell broke into shards of green, and I felt my ankle twist at the awkward landing, sending jolts of pain up my leg.

The buck noticed its mistake and turned to face me again, and again it charged. I had no time to think and half-screamed the incantation, moving more on instinct and panic than conscious thought. The only thing that went through my mind was a single thought.

"I want to live."

My spell flew, closing the gap, and slammed into the charging creature's skull. It popped like an overripe melon, sending bits of gristle and bone into the air and covering me in a fine red mist. It was about five feet away when the attack landed, and its momentum carried it forward, bowling us both over onto the ground again.

I laid on the grass, feeling burning hot blood settle onto my flesh as my chest ached. At a minimum, the weight had damaged something in my torso, though hopefully nothing debilitating. And as the realization of what covered my body settled in, I turned to one side and gave up holding back my vomit.