The sky turned blood red as the sun set, on its way out after its short mandatory visit to the forsaken land. The rolling desert dunes looked like a crimson sea, ripples forming in the sand from the cool breeze.

"When the red sky sets, it's time to jet," Casimir said, clutching his crossbow as he scanned the horizon. "Quote from the Sagrada." He winked.

"Very funny," Oren said, shaking his head.

"He's always quoting the Sagrada," Anton said to Max as he eyed Oren. "Your pa was like that too, you know. But I suppose that's why they're lead huntsmen."

"All seriousness," Casimir said. "Diabolen will be on the prowl, so I suppose we should keep our game on."

"How long until we run into one?" Max said.

"Could be minutes," Oren said. "Or days."

"I hope we just get something to eat," Casimir said. "A nice ostrich or pronghorn would do me some good."

Max observed as Casimir scouted the landscape. The brothers, Anton and Casimir Kovak, were skilled hunters and had lived side-by-side with the Elliots for years. They shared in the darksight as one of the five darkseer families in Vigilance.

The four hunters walked in unison, leaving a trail of footprints in the sand, markers that would be blown away with a gust of wind. They walked above a long winding canyon that had once housed a gushing river in primordial times.

As the sun set, the world became shadow.

The countours of the sand dunes remained clear to Max despite the lack of sunlight. Had they been traveling with a larger group, they would be carrying torches to accommodate those blinded by the night. But not today. This was meant to be a simple training hunt. They wouldn't bring enough food for the group but maybe a few desert rabbits would do.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

"There," Oren said, pointing off into the distance. He held a small portable telescope in his hands, which he lowered from his eyes and handed to Max. "A pack of oryx."

Oryx made good meat, Max thought to himself. He peered through the cylindrical device, and caught the shadows of the goatlike fauna walking in the sand. They fed off small patches of splinter grass that littered this area of the desert. "How do we catch them?" he asked.

The oryxes were eight hundred meters away, and they were lightning fast. The creatures had long pronged horns and and black and white fur. Harmless to humans but not the other way around.

"We wait for them to come to us," Oren said. "They are likely to go in one of two directions." He pointed toward to large patches of splinter grass up ahead.

"Cass and I will take the spot to the east," Anton said, nodding to his brother. "You and Max take west."

"Great, we stake them out. Whichever direction they go, we will be ready," Oren said, signaling to Max to follow him. He then placed his index finger to his mouth in a gesture of silence.

Max nodded and followed his uncle.

The trek was an easy one. Max clutched onto his bow and felt the quiver of arrows on his back to ensure they were secure. He knew how to shoot after having trained for years with his father. It was his father's bow that he carried with him, and he intended to put it to work.

Walking behind Oren, Max could make out Casimir and Anton in the distance. Impressed at how stealthily they moved, Max did his best to emulate the huntsmen. They were like shadows moving in the night, invisible in a night already shrouded in darkness.

What they really needed to focus on was keeping quiet and disguising their scent. Their prey could sense a predator a mile away. For that, the huntsmen wore padded shoes and burnt darkwood ash. The ash absorbed their human odors and gave off a trace of darkwood scent while the shoes kept their noise to a minimum.

As they neared their designated spot, Oren raised his hand in an abrupt signal to stop. Max's head darted back-and forth. There were no oryxes here. The herd hadn't come in their direction, instead migrating toward the easter patch of splinter grass, where the Kovak brothers waited.

"What's going on?" Max mouthed without letting any air seep out of his mouth. The heard could still change course and come in their direction, so they should be in position.

In an instant, Oren lunged to the ground, pulling Max with him. A woosh of wind breezed Max's hair as a razor-lined tail narrowly missed his head.

[http://www.atticusandrews.com/wp-content/uploads/DALL·E-2023-01-23-20.55.08-A-hunter-with-a-sword-digital-art-1.png]

Oren the Hunter