The bright sun shined overhead like a mistaken blot on an otherwise coherent tapestry.
While light had its place in the Wastes, the problem was that it didn't seem to belong. For a single hour each day, the sun beat down overhead, illuminating the barren desert for the ugly stepchild that it was, preferring to spend its warmth and shine on more palatable parts of the world. Similarly, the Wastes preferred darkness because there was nothing worth seeing when the sun was up.
The Wastes would never yield forests or fruits or verdant pastures. No, the Wastes were so lifeless that even rot and decay stayed far away. For decaying things yielded rich soil which certainly did not belong.
Like the land that they inhabited, the people of Vigilance lived in abject poverty, clinging to their lives like marooned sailors. If it weren't for the hunters, who somehow managed to bring back food from the desert, most of them would die. A single hour of sunlight would do little to support normal crops.
Thankfully, darkwood did not require much in terms of sunlight, hence its name. Like the people, it was a hardy tree. A single hour was all it needed to grow and yield blackfruit—not the most delicious plant in the world but one that provided some amount of sustenance to a population with few options.
Max took a bite of a blackfruit. The dry prune-like produce was roughly the size of his fist. To an outsider who hadn't spent long in the Wastes, the fruit was bitter and sour with little to no sweetness to it. But to anyone who'd lived in Vigilance long, it was mouthwatering.
It wasn't every day that Max dipped into the family supply given that blackfruit was becoming harder and harder to come by—they had a jar primarily for emergency purposes. Blackfruit lasted a long time, often going years without going bad. What little they could find out in the Wastes, they put into storage and only used sparingly.
Today, however, Max's mother begged him to take some. He hadn't eaten in several days. To go out into the Wastes on his first hunt with an empty stomach could put him at a disadvantage. She wouldn't stand for that.
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Knock, knock
Max opened the door, the sunlight streaming through in shining golden rays. It wasn't bright outside by normal standards but for the Wastes, any light felt like heaven. Not everyone in Vigilance enjoyed the light but Max wasn't one of those people.
"Are you ready?" Oren asked. Behind him stood two other hunters whom Max recognized as Anton and Casimir, brothers. The men were nearly as tall as Oren and had thick burly arms and rough black beards. They were alike in appearance, sharing the same square facial structures, light brown skin, and flat noses. Anton wore a crossbow and quiver on his back while Casimir held an axe and sword.
Max nodded.
"You sure he should go so soon?" Anton said. "After what happened yesterday. What does Marian think about this?"
"She knows it must happen now," Oren said. "If anything, the slaying of a behemoth means his training needs to be accelerated."
"Do you think?" Casimir said. "They'll seek vengeance?"
Max tilted his head. Vengeance? He hadn't considered that angle before.
"I don't know," Oren said. "Max, where is your mother?"
"She went to the watering hole with the others," Max said. "For the light hour."
Oren nodded in understanding. Marian wouldn't want to be there to see Max off. Her emotions would run, which could create a distraction. If anything happened to Max after that, she'd blame herself.
"You know," Anton said. "Hendricks disappeared this morning. You two were the last to see him. His house was cleared of valuables and it looked like he left in a hurry."
"Good riddance," Max said, balling his hands into fists. "Vigilance is better without him."
"I don't know," Oren said. "While he was conniving to the core, the man was a skillful administrator. Kept things more orderly than they'd ever been before he got here."
"How can you say that?" Max said, feeling his cheeks redden. "After the way he attacked our family?"
"We have to stay objective," Oren said. "We cannot let our emotions rule our minds."
Casimir mouthed Oren from behind, mockingly from behind, pretending to say the same words but with upturned eyebrows and a perky mouth.
Oren rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, Cass is making fun of me again."
"You need to relax, mate," Anton said, placing his hands on Oren's shoulder. "The boy's got a point. Even if old Albertus Hendricks was a skilled administrator, we're still a thousand times better without that old rat."
Max placed his hands on his hips. He always liked Casimir and Anton. The two brothers kept things entertaining.
"Fine, fine," Oren said. "But let's get a move on. Last thing I want is to be late for the hunt. We still need to put food on the table for the people of Vigilance."
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Casimir and Anton