5 years later
Thorne perched on a sturdy branch of a massive oak, his eyes locked on the elk beneath him. The beast pawed at the ground in agitation, huffing as its wide eyes scanned the surroundings for the unseen predator. The elk's iridescent scales shimmered in the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense forest canopy.
This wasn’t just any hunt. Thorne had tracked this particular elk for over a week. Its horns alone would fetch a hefty price, but it was its scales—glittering and kaleidoscopic—that truly made it valuable. Alchemists paid a premium for aether beast hides, and elk scales of this quality were rare. He’d never forget Jonah’s expression when they’d first brought a hide like this one back to the alchemist’s shop. The man had been beside himself, practically frothing at the mouth with excitement.
Unfortunately, the alchemist hadn't been able to cover the cost of the purchase. But Jonah, with his newly formed core and the slew of merchant skills he had unlocked after years of managing Thorne's transactions, managed to make a deal with a new alchemist that opened the door to more lucrative opportunities.
The excitement in Jonah's eyes when he had first seen the iridescent scales, the way he had immediately seen their potential value. Jonah… A wry smile tugged at Thorne’s lips. In the years since their early dealings, Jonah had grown just as skilled in his own way, mastering the art of negotiation and trade, turning Thorne's hunting skills into a profitable venture for them both.
Thorne’s gaze returned to the elk, the thrill of the hunt stirring his blood. His senses were keener than ever, sharpened by years of training and hard lessons. He had grown taller, his frame lean and sinewy, every muscle trained to precision. His once-boyish face had given way to sharper features, a jaw hardened by experience, and eyes that missed nothing.
Perched in the oak, he moved with the quiet ease of a shadow, balancing on the balls of his feet. His Stealth skill was active, rendering him nearly invisible to the elk’s heightened senses. Each step was precise, each breath controlled, as he crept closer to his target. A misstep would cost him everything, but Thorne had learned the value of patience. He could see the tension in the elk’s frame—the twitch of its ears, the shift of its weight.
This was no ordinary animal; as an aether beast, it sensed him even now, its muscles coiling in readiness. He had tracked it meticulously, learning its patterns and habits, understanding its territory. The thrill of the hunt coursed through him, a familiar yet exhilarating sensation.
The past five years of rigorous training had honed his skills and sharpened his instincts. His movements were fluid and controlled, thanks to the countless hours spent with his mercurial trainer. Even now, he could feel Sid’s voice in the back of his mind: Take your time. Breathe. Let the prey fall into your rhythm.
He could have used one of his aether-based skills to end the fight in seconds, but that wasn't what this hunt was about. He wanted to train his new skills, and the lumbering elk was the perfect target.
His skill, Critical Eye, allowed him to see the beast's weak points—its eyes, neck, and joints. Unfortunately, the skill was still low-leveled, and the red-highlighted areas were a bit too large to be of any real help. Still, he needed to level up the skill, so he kept it activated even though it consumed aether like Darius ate meat pies after each training session with the guards.
With quiet, calculated steps, Thorne shifted his weight on the thick branch, crouching low for balance as he raised his left arm. With a flick of his index finger, he pushed the small lever of the tiny crossbow tied to his wrist. The short bolt flew with a hissing sound, causing the elk to freeze. The beast had no time to react as the bolt found its mark.
Thorne swore under his breath when he saw the bolt clatter harmlessly to the forest floor, even though it had hit the red area highlighted by his Critical Eye skill. He took a steadying breath and raised his other hand, loosing another bolt. The elk let out an earth-shattering roar that shook the tree he was perched on. The second bolt had struck true, and blood and fluids flew from the beast's eye.
The elk staggered but didn’t fall. Wild aether pulsed around it, shimmering like a dark aura. The ground shook as jagged stone spikes erupted, encircling the elk protectively. Thorne allowed himself a slight smirk, watching from his safe perch above. The panicked creature tried to bolt, only to catch itself on the vicious spikes, which tore gashes along its gleaming scales. Thorne winced, knowing the damage would reduce the hide’s value.
Unfazed, he drew two small throwing knives from his belt, releasing them in quick succession. The first knife bounced off the thick hide, but the second sank into the beast’s knee joint with a sickening thud. The elk let out a pained snarl, its weight shifting precariously as its leg faltered beneath it.
Pleased with his attack, Thorne decided to take the fight to the ground. From past experience, he knew the elk couldn't use its aether skill for the next ten minutes or so. His body contorted as he jumped end over end and landed lightly on his feet, absorbing the impact of the fall with his bent knees.
He ran, circling the beast before it could even register his presence, and threw another knife. This one hit the joint of the hind leg but didn’t deal serious damage. A notification appeared in his vision.
Skill Level Up: Throwing Daggers!
With every throw, his stamina took a hit, but he had more than enough to keep going like this. He wasn't going to, though. Picking up speed, he weaved through the rocky spikes with a graceful maneuver. He unstrapped his long dagger from its sheath on his thigh, ideal for close combat, and used his Backstab skill.
He struck with precision, driving the dagger deep into the creature's leg. The impact was devastating—the elk’s leg buckled, and it fell to the ground in a crash of dust and scattered stones. Thorne darted back, narrowly avoiding the creature’s massive antlers as it tried to retaliate. He threw another knife aimed for its throat, but like before, the blade merely glanced off its scales.
“So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?” he muttered, gripping his long dagger with a renewed resolve as the elk turned its fierce gaze on him, blood dripping from its injured eye.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Thorne murmured, keeping his voice low and steady. The elk reared its head, swinging its antlers in a wide arc, the wickedly sharp tips slicing through the air toward him. In one fluid motion, Thorne dropped low, rolling beneath the creature’s attack, and sprang back to his feet, mere inches from its vulnerable, extended neck.
He activated his Lethal Flurry skill, feeling a surge of energy course through him as the skill took hold. His arm became a blur, the blade in his hand a glinting arc of steel slicing through the air. Each strike landed with ruthless precision, carving deep gashes into the elk’s flesh, scattering iridescent scales across the ground like broken glass. Blood spattered his face and arms as he relentlessly carved up the creature, his blade moving faster than thought, driven by his new skill.
Each strike drained his stamina at an alarming rate, his reserves dwindling with each heartbeat. By the time he staggered back, his breathing was ragged, his limbs heavy from the lack of stamina points.
The elk wheezed, its chest heaving as it drew in a final, shuddering breath. Its body sagged, its ruined face and torn hide the results of his new skill. Thorne took a step back, waiting for the familiar notification that would signify a level-up.
But as the seconds ticked by and the only sound was his own labored breathing, a hollow sense of frustration settled over him. No notification flashed before his eyes, no sign that he’d grown stronger from the kill. He swallowed down his disappointment, letting out a weary sigh.
Ever since reaching level 30, every advancement had felt like an endless climb up a mountain, every step demanding more effort than the last. The infrequent hunts, and the relentless schedule of grueling training sessions with Sid, had made it even harder to level up.
Wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand, Thorne pulled up his character sheet.
Name: Thorne
Level: 31
Race: Human
Age: 14
Special Trait: Elder Race
Health points: 830/830
Aether: 540/540
Stamina: 850/850
Attributes:
* Strength: 33 → 58
* Agility: 46 → 75
* Dexterity: 45 → 73
* Endurance: 52 → 85
* Vitality: 51 → 83
* Spirit: 60 → 98
* Wisdom: 32 → 54
* Intelligence: 32 → 50
Skills:
* Tracking: 11 → 25
* Foraging: 3 → 6
* Archery: 1 → 19
* Running: 20 → 46
* Stealth: 16 → 40
* Reading: 7 → 15
* Arithmetic: 6 → 12
* Herbalism: 2 → 6
* Acting: 13 → 22
* Haggling: 6 → 10
* Deception: 10 → 25
* Sleight of Hand: 6 → 20
* Pickpocketing: 5 → 18
* Lockpicking: 2 → 15
* Resilience: 7 → 30
* Thick Skin: 21 → 35
* Acrobatics: 13 → 37
* Daggers: 15 → 41
* Escape Artist: 15 → 33
* Shadow Meld: 4 → 26
* Mindguard: 1 → 7
* Echoes of Truth: 3 → 14
* Unarmed Combat: 3 → 21
* Combat Reflexes: 5 → 30
* Hunter’s Insight: 1 → 10
* Stealth Strike: 1 → 18
* Cunning Trapper: 3 → 11
* Critical Eye: 5
* Crossbows: 7
* Throwing Knives: 9
* Lethal Flurry: 4
* Backstab: 6
Aether Skills:
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* Primal Aether Manipulation: 8 → 15
* Aether Burst: 3 → 9
* Aether Surge: 3 → 7
* Aetheric Grip: 1 → 5
He couldn’t deny that Sid’s demanding training yielded incredible results. He couldn’t remember the last time his body didn’t hurt somewhere or sporting a healing bruise shooting agonizing pain every time he moved. His progress, however, was undeniable, he was no longer the scared kid that trembled at the first sight of an aether beast. Hours of training, and long days of hunting had turned him into a deadly threat.
Thorne crouched beside the beast, his breath still heavy from the exertion. He had grown a lot over the past five years, not just in skills but also in understanding the complexities of hunting these aether beasts. Each hunt had taught him something new, adding layers to his experience and making him more adept at anticipating the behaviors and capabilities of his prey. His muscles, once scrawny and underdeveloped, were now well-defined and strong, the rigorous training with Sid and the countless battles he had endured made sure of that.
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow through the forest canopy. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, mixed with the metallic tang of the elk's blood. Thorne glanced around, ensuring no other predators were drawn by the noise and scent of the kill. His senses, sharpened by years of training, were on high alert. Even in moments of triumph, there was no room for complacency.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a streak of blood across his forehead. The forest was silent now, the sounds of the elk's struggle and his own grunts of exertion fading into the background. Thorne felt a pang of guilt as he looked at the lifeless eyes of the elk. It was a magnificent creature, and taking its life was never an easy task. But he knew it was necessary for survival and growth.
With a final sigh, Thorne began the task of skinning the beast, his movements slow and meticulous as he removed the iridescent scales one by one. Each scale gleamed with an otherworldly light, as though it held a sliver of the forest's magic within it. He worked carefully, handling each piece as though it were made of glass—each scale was worth a small fortune, and they shimmered with colors that would captivate any merchant or alchemist.
As he worked, Thorne's thoughts wandered to Jonah and their growing partnership. Jonah had become an invaluable ally, his sharp mind for business perfectly complementing Thorne's own skills. They had built a reputation as a reliable team: the hunter and the merchant. Each successful trade and contract brought them a step closer to realizing their goals, and he could almost picture Jonah's wide-eyed excitement when he saw the scales from this hunt. A faint smile touched his lips at the thought.
His hands continued moving with practiced ease, fingers working to expertly separate the scales from the creature's flesh. Years of experience showed in his deft, quick movements; there was no hesitation, no wasted motion. The scales made a satisfying clink as they fell into his pouch, each one reminding him of the coins he soon would collect.
After he finished, Thorne paused, looking down at the elk's remains—its once-powerful form now reduced to little more than bones and remnants of flesh. For a moment, he lowered his head in silent respect. He had developed this habit over time—a quiet ritual of gratitude to the beasts that sustained him. The whispered thank you was his way of coping with the reality of his actions.
Standing, he secured the pouch full of scales, feeling the weight of his haul against his side. He wiped his hands on his pants, streaking them with blood and dirt, then scanned the darkening forest around him. With the scent of blood in the air, he knew he had a chance to lay an ambush for any creature drawn to the carcass. He had a few hours to spare and could always use more ingredients and hides to trade.
Thorne climbed into the branches of a massive oak, perching comfortably on a wide, sturdy bough. As he lounged, he pulled out a small slice of blueberry pie from his pack, taking a bite as he watched the forest with keen, alert eyes. He crossed one boot over the other, settling in and whistling a tune he'd heard in the tavern the night before.
His senses were attuned to the forest sounds, and he only heard the soft footsteps because he was actively looking for any sign of a predator. At first, he thought it was just the rustle of leaves. His keen hearing didn't disappoint him, and before too long, four figures emerged from the dense undergrowth.
Thorne froze, immediately activating his Shadow Meld skill. The identity of the four figures was unmistakable—they were elves.
Each one wore the same leather armor, intricate and beautifully crafted, a blend of metal and natural materials that flowed around their forms like water, as though the metal had been woven rather than forged, adorned with intricate silver leaf motifs. A green cloak blending seamlessly into the forest around them, was tied at the neck with a pin shaped like an oak tree. They held longbows made of pale white wood, with arrows at the ready and they moved with the quiet precision of hunters born to the wild.
The elves moved gracefully, their features strikingly beautiful and their stature tall and lean. Their eyes, like gems of different hues—emerald green, sapphire blue, golden yellow, and onyx black—seemed to pierce through the foliage, scanning for any disturbance. Their pointed ears twitched slightly, picking up sounds imperceptible to human ears.
Thorne's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he had to stay completely still. The elves' senses were sharp, and even the slightest movement could give away his position. He watched as the elves continued to inspect the area, their movements precise and deliberate.
One of them, a younger elf who looked jittery, let his arrow fly at the sound of a rustle, but it was only a rabbit. The arrow struck the ground with a soft thud, startling the small creature, which darted away.
"Luinan!" The leader whipped around, his voice carrying a soft yet unmistakable reprimand. "Control yourself. We are not here to hunt rabbits."
The young elf looked abashed, lowering his bow as a faint blush colored his high cheekbones "Sorry, Captain Elendil. I thought… I thought it was something larger."
Elendil's silver-gray eyes narrowed, irritation evident in his expression. "We can't afford mistakes like that. Stay focused."
The other elves exchanged looks—one arching an amused brow, the other rolling his eyes. Thorne guessed they’d seen Luinan make mistakes like this before. Yet even in their silent jest, their alertness never wavered. They were utterly in sync, their discipline like that of a pack of wolves. Their every movement seemed rehearsed, their senses continuously attuned to their surroundings.
“Elion.” The leader said pointing at the dead aether beast.
The tall elf with glistening emerald eyes and hair that shimmered like spun silver, approached the elk’s body with careful steps. He crouched down, his fingers lightly tracing the wounds. Thorne’s stomach twisted as Elion’s gaze sharpened, the elf’s nostrils flaring as he examined the kill.
“Thalas, could this have been the work of one of our own?” Elion’s voice was quiet but filled with curiosity, his gaze fixed on the carcass.
Thalas, whose piercing blue eyes seemed to miss nothing, shook his head, his features solemn. “If it were one of ours, the kill would have been cleaner. They would have taken the meat, maybe even the bones. This… this is not our way. And whoever did this was sloppy with their strike,” he added, his voice tinged with faint disapproval. “This was no elven kill.”
Captain Elendil turned to Thalas, his sharp gaze softening with trust. “What do you sense?”
Thalas leaned closer to the ground, inhaling the air in a deep breath. His eyes narrowed, his face grim as he looked up. “A human,” he murmured, the word carrying a quiet disdain.
At his pronouncement, the elves stiffened, their expressions darkening. Luinan’s face twisted with anger. “A human dared to enter our forest? They’ve broken the treaty.”
Elendil’s hand clenched at his side, his gaze scanning the trees with renewed intensity. “Their audacity is boundless,” he said, his voice as cold as a blade. “But if there is a human here, they will answer for this trespass.”
Thorne, still hidden among the thick branches, tried to make sense of what he’d overheard. A treaty? He’d never heard of any treaty between elves and humans, and he certainly hadn’t known he was crossing into forbidden lands. As far as he knew, the forest was simply a dangerous place filled with aether beasts and ancient ruins, a place only the foolhardy dared to enter alone. But hearing the elves speak, it was clear they viewed any human in their woods as a trespasser—and not just any trespasser, but an invader.
How long have I been crossing this invisible line without knowing it? he wondered, his mind racing as his eyes scanned his surroundings. The realization that he’d unwittingly trespassed on sacred elven land made him feel exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He shifted his gaze to his aether reserves, his heart sinking as he watched the numbers drop faster than he’d anticipated. Shadow Meld was draining him dry, and he only had a few precious minutes left before his concealment would falter entirely.
Below him, Elendil’s voice held a cold authority that sent a shiver down Thorne’s spine. “Our orders are clear. Any human found within our borders is to be dealt with swiftly. We cannot allow them to think they can intrude upon our lands without consequence.”
Thorne watched as the younger elf, Thalas, clenched his jaw, his sapphire-blue eyes flashing with barely restrained anger. “The humans have forgotten that this forest was part of our kingdom—of Thal’Dorei. They seized Alvar from us and drove us out of our own lands, and now those filthy intruders have the gall to desecrate our sacred groves?”
Luinan, still visibly shaken from his earlier mistake, darted glances into the shadows. “What if there are more of them? What if they think they can come and go as they please?”
Elion, the green-eyed elf, placed a steadying hand on Luinan’s shoulder. “Remain calm, Luinan. We’ll handle any intruders. But you’re right. We must report back to Commander Thalion. Patrols have been lax. We’ve been... forgiving,” he said, his tone laced with contempt.
Luinan sighed but straightened his posture, standing tall under Elion’s scrutinizing gaze. “Yes, Elion. I understand.”
Elendil gave a curt nod, his sharp eyes scanning the forest one last time. “We’ll split up and search the area. Keep alert and report any sign of intrusion.”
Thorne held his breath as the elves moved away, each one dissolving into the shadows with an eerie, almost supernatural grace. Their hatred for humans was unmistakable; their resentment hung in the air like an unspoken curse, their words echoing in his mind long after they’d vanished.
He’d always known this land once belonged to the elves, but hearing them speak of Thal’Dorei—their lost kingdom—filled him with a new understanding. To them, the forest wasn’t just land; it was a piece of their shattered past, and humans were the ones who had taken it from them.
As the last rustle of leaves settled into silence, Thorne let out a shaky breath. He’d kept himself hidden, but his body trembled from the strain, his muscles taut from remaining still so long. Even now, he was afraid to let his guard down, afraid one of the elves might still be nearby, waiting. He could still see Elendil’s sharp gaze, the way it seemed to pierce through the forest. It had been a narrow escape.
When he felt sure they were gone, he finally released the draining Shadow Meld, a weary sigh escaping his lips as his aether reserves steadied. He waited a few moments longer, reactivating his Stealth skill just in case, watching the forest for any sign of movement, his heart still racing.
Minutes passed, then hours until he finally found the courage to move.