Souls are a curious thing. The brightest, without fail, are those with limitless potential, but they still fall. Do you know why, mortal? Because even those they called allies wanted to see them fail—a bright soul is doomed before it is even born.

~Arianrhod, Goddess of Rebirth and Fate

Trees groaned and creaked under the north winds. Branches clacked together, shaking some of their yellow leaves free. Strangely, despite the autumn setting, the trees appeared to maintain their thick canopy, which muffled the sounds of the branches clacking together.

The group of young people moved through the twisted trunks, some as if they’d spent their entire lives in the forest, while others tromped across the trail like alpha cows. The other five were older than Crow by at least two years. Despite that, he didn’t feel he was in much danger from any of them—not from a physical confrontation. Although, there was one boy that might prove challenging to fight—the lanky, brown-haired guy who introduced himself as Lonny Belgae.

Crow felt it odd that they grouped him with the Duncan, Belgae, and Teonet clan. Even without the Flower Festival incident, those clans had next to no relationship with the Maddox clan, unless hostility counted. He hadn’t dealt directly with the Belgae clan before but they were allied strongly with the Rulaney clan.

Their leader, the oldest of the lot, was Aleg Duncan, Munro’s cousin. Crow felt only disdain for the large boy, who’d already turned most of the group against him. Not willing to cause problems just yet, Crow stayed silent, but only his willpower kept the peace. They’d only walked for about an hour before Aleg was already telling Crow to crush his token. Complaining about having a worthless team member.

The others hadn’t bothered to introduce themselves, but he heard Aleg call the scrawny guy Boots. Boots was also from the Duncan clan and stuck to Aleg like a wet sock. The girl was Teonet, and the remaining boy didn’t wear insignia, but he stuck by Lonny as if the two knew each other.

“Crow, keep up!” The Aleg clown growled, but Crow just rolled his eyes. He hadn’t fallen behind at all. Truthfully, he was the least winded of the entire group, and the others were giving him and Aleg a strange look at this point.

Crow snorted but remained quiet.

While the others ignored him, he heard snippets of conversation. They talked about the gear he’d chosen to bring. The bow wasn’t worth mentioning, but the falcata was. He’d strapped on his hip and tied the sheath to his leg right above the knee. It prevented it from banging around while he moved through the forest. The weapon classified as a saber, so he could use saber related techniques with it.

Falcatas were single-edged blades about a half-meter long. The traditional Druid style had a decent curve to it, and the blade itself was narrow near the handle and widened before it narrowed to a point. The grip was hook-shaped and stylized in the shape of a crow. His uncle told him the falcata was one of the best swords in existence, designed as a slashing weapon, but delivered blows with the force of an ax.

Crow picked it out because of the handle’s design. Blade and handle were seamlessly forged from the same material—a black lusterless metal that he did not recognize. It made the blade lack any shine, and it almost absorbed the ambient light. Even without a polished shine, the intricate design and attention to the crow’s head on the blade made it a piece of deadly art. Only the eyes were of some other material. The black crystals stood out because it was the only polished material on the entire blade.

It wasn’t the aesthetic that made him choose the weapon. The moment he held it, he knew. Other than the bow, he’d never experienced another weapon that suited him as much as the falcata had. Even in a forest, the shorter blade was going to be helpful.

Not as helpful as the bow which remained in his hand. In this group, he doubted he’d have to focus on short-range combat. Plus, the warm wood was reassuring. Besides, he wasn’t as competent with the falcata as he was with the bow—not yet.

Although Luthais taught him how to use it, it was Gavin that gave him the heirloom. Mor-Rioghain was the name of the blade, which roughly translated to the Queen of Nightmares. Crow wasn’t sure about the name at first, but it grew on him. Once he learned the proper footwork for using the weapon, all his other weapon training came into play, and once he added in Ghost Steps, the things he could do with that blade had surprised even Luthais.

Otto had helped, but strangely the giant had used a massive shield almost as tall as Crow. Not just for defense, but as his weapon too. Once he did that, Crow couldn’t even get close enough to use the damned blade, at least not at first. It was odd because it showed an amount of battle awareness that even an average person wouldn’t have.

“Crow! What are you doing?” Aleg Duncan growled once more. The bastard hadn’t even looked around but randomly growled out admonishments.

“Following you, and same with probably half the forest, you Elkan cow. Between your ungraceful stomping and constant bellowing, we might as well set up camp in the caves ahead because you’ve already run off the easy prey in the area.”

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“You dare!” Aleg turned around and found Crow with an arrow already drawn, the tip of which was pointed right at the piggy’s left eye.

“I do. You want to berate me, fine. But don’t you dare blame me for your incompetence.”

“Alright, let’s calm down,” Lonny said, and Crow eyed him warily. Rulaney clan had already attacked him once, and the Belgae intermarried with Rulaney so much that they might as well be the same clan.

“Is this really necessary, Crow?” Boot asked. “We are carrying on this mission. The least you could do—”

“Shut up,” Crow snapped, his temper finally reaching a point where he refused to take it anymore. “Carry me? I’ve been hunting in forests more dangerous than this since I was three. You act like I’m a burden, but look at Aleg. He is blowing so hard that even if he doesn’t scare away the beasts, he won’t last another hour before he collapses from exhaustion. Carry me? You’re a damned fool.”

Everyone was started for a moment and turned to see Aleg’s overlarge body heaving. Some of them at least had the decency to feel guilty.

“Two kilometers that way, there is a clearing with a small cave. Even this buffalo shouldn’t have a problem finding it. If our leader can make it, it’s a good place to camp. Come. Don’t come. I don’t care anymore, but that is where I’m headed.” Crow said and, without waiting for a reply, activated his Ghost Steps and nimbly stepped across a few downed trees, leaped over gnarled roots, and dodged around Aleg before anyone could react. In seconds he faded into the forest like a shadow, a feat even they couldn’t ignore.

“I’ll kill you. You-you coward!” Aleg finally roared.

“Still huffing like a giant gorilla,” a soft voice carried over to them like a gentle caress from the wind.

Lonny snorted and shook his head before following Crow. The unaffiliated member following closely behind Lonny.

“That son of a bitch,” Boot muttered, just now having recovered from the shock of being told to shut up from that little twerp. “We could make him disappear—”

“Knock it off,” Mara Teonet interrupted. “Open your idiot mouth again, and I won’t support either of you. Council Elders supervise the Hunt. If anything happens to Crow, we’ll all pay for it. Especially because of his age. Whatever resentment you Duncans have against that kid, end it now. I’ll say it again, this is the Hunt, not some schoolyard conflict.”

“Mara is right,” Aleg spat out, but his anger had not been sated, not by a long shot. This time he overplayed his hand. “We can make the kid pay later, but Mara… you should be clear why we Duncans have an issue with him. Munro, despite attending this event, still hasn’t recovered from his beating.”

“After what he and my little sister did, I’m not sure I believe Crow was in the wrong. Ever since my sister has been hanging around that creature, she has become meaner than ever. Esme is betrothed to Crow, and Munro better accept it. Allies or not, if your cousin so much as touches my sister, I’ll gut him myself,” Mara said. “Now cut the nonsense, or this Mommy will leave your asses here. Neither of you knows woodcraft. Based on what I just saw, Crow might be the best hunter we have. If you mess up my hunt, I’ll make sure everyone knows how worthless you two are as hunters, lacking even the common skills all Druids should have.”

Mara’s ponytail bobbed back and forth as she ran off too, leaving the two Duncan cousins. Neither of them said anything, and after a time, they both followed the others.

An hour later, they both smelled the smoke of a campfire and found the others had already set up their tents. Crow was busy cooking a few rabbits over the fire and cleaning the pelts before setting them out to dry.

“W-where did you find those?” Aleg asked Lonny, who looked up from the wooden pole he was shaving down into a makeshift spear. His knife pointed at Crow.

“He had already killed them by the time I arrived,” Lonny replied in his concise and direct manner. Crow liked his style because his every action and word was about the economy of movement or loosely adhered to the idea.

Crow ignored Aleg’s stare, but there was no way he could overlook the fiery rage burning off of him. At that time, Mara strode into camp, and her wet strawberry blonde hair indicated she’d taken a bath in the nearby river. Her clothing hung loose, not yet cinched down like it’d been while they traveled. Even baggy, those clothes could hide her full figure as they’d clung to her damp skin. It was the first time Crow had seen her hair down and not pulled back so tightly that it looked as if it hurt.

Mara! He’d finally recognized her. The last time he’d seen her was when his mom was still around, but it was her hair that gave it away. Very few people had light-colored hair in the north.

Feeling awkward gawking at her, he turned away and went back to roasting the rabbits.

“Strategy meeting in the cave, now. Adults only. Crow, you set up my tent.

“No,” Crow said and continued cooking the rabbits.

“I’m the designated leader of this group. You will do what I say.”

“Hmph,” Crow grunted and said nothing else. Nor did he stop what he was doing. Once again, no one spoke up. All of them looked away and walked towards the cave entrance. Crow felt it was a shame. Aleg had no sense of the woods, and this Hunt was going to be a disaster with him in charge.

Bam!

Distracted, he hadn’t been paying attention to Aleg while messing with the campfire, and a tent smashed into him with enough force to knock him back a meter. Crow knew without a doubt that it was thrown using a bit of Aleg’s Source behind it.

Crow rose shakily to his feet and tasted blood in his mouth. A pole had clipped his jaw. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. The glare he sent at Aleg was so cold and filled with killing intent that even the others could sense it. The Duncan boys just smiled.

“You think you can outrun my arrow?” Crow asked.

“Pfft, what are you going to do, crybaby? Put it up, or you don’t eat.” Aleg ordered, eying the two rabbits on the spit before he entered the cave.

Crow looked at the others, who remained judiciously silent, but none of them looked at him.

“Interesting. Four idiots following a buffalo with no forest sense, in a place none of you know a damned thing about. Go then, strategize. Here is a discussion point for you… how did I know these caves were here? The lot of you are cowards.”

Lonny turned to stare at Crow, his body tense, but Crow didn’t give him the satisfaction as he turned away and went about his business.

Once they disappeared into the cave, Crow took his rabbits and devoured them both while he broke down and packed his gear. Afterward, he rolled Aleg’s tent into the fire. By the time he was walking out of the camp, all he had left behind was the remains of the devoured rabbits, and a sky-high fire as Aleg’s tent burned brightly enough to attract beasts for several kilometers.