A rustle of bushes. A whisper of wind. The soft, low breathing of a cloaked figure hiding within the undergrowth.

His eyes were sharp and honed on the barely visible tips of two antlers. They were small and with only three points, cresting over some foliage in the distance.

Out of the corner of his vision, the man noticed a squirrel, suspiciously stationary, clinging to a tree and watching both the man and the deer.

They had become a common occurrence recently. Constant watchers. He paid no heed as he stood up, slowly, readied his bow, slowly, and took aim, slowly.

Any nose, any loud movements, and the deer would be scared right off.

A second. Two seconds. Three seconds. His fingers released the string, the arrow darting through the air and striking against its side cleanly.

With a sudden jump and burst of energy, the creature scampered off as the hunter took to running, trying to maintain visible contact and when that was no longer possible, tracking the trail of blood left in its wake.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the deer to come to a stop, exhausted and drained of blood.

The hunter found it still alive but barely, collapsed onto its side and unable to move. With a quick movement of his knife, he gave the animal a swift death, preserving as much meat as he could.

Deer were hard kills. They were flighty and occasionally attacked you head on but the hunk of meat you received in return was worth it. From the size of this one, it seemed relatively young, probably adolescent or recently adult.

It was still the season where they were mostly isolated, not yet joining packs in preparation for winter. Good to kill them now and stock up rather than hunt against multiple while he can barely see in the snow.

The man groaned and stretched his body, working out any kinks in his back and limbering up. With a huff, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around the corpse, lifting it up into the until he was back to standing upright, taking care to keep his breathing steady.

He had been hunting in these woods for years by now and knew his way around like the back of his hand; it didn’t take very long for him to exit and return to the arranged meeting spot.

Already, there were a few other hat-wearing hunters waiting for him–not everyone, however, so he’d have to do a little waiting as well.

It was a safety measure, making sure everyone entered and exited before doing anything else. It worked, too; Lefton probably would’ve lost his leg if they didn’t go searching for him when he hadn’t turned up.

The rest of the hunter’s game was all smaller than his, and he received a round of cheers as he emerged from the wood, carrying the deer towards them. ‘Well done’ and ‘nice one’ echoed around him as he deposited the deer on the cart with the rest of the animals.

Almost immediately, he collapsed onto the log nearby, taking his time to catch his breath.

That was the bad thing about hunting alone; you didn’t have someone else to help carry the bodies.

Over the next hour or so, a couple more hunters filtered out of the forest, carrying their own successes and depositing them in the wagon, filling it up nicely.

The hunter couldn’t help but smile as he evaluated everyone else’s targets. Mostly small game, like squirrels or rabbits, were the vast majority of corpses. Some people only caught one, while others two or three.

The closest to himself was a fairly new hunter called Kaven. He had recently turned sixteen and was eager to prove himself. Sometimes, he came back with nothing, opting to not risk any injury to himself when trying for a risky and high-return kill.

That’s what he liked about the kid–he was smart and chose his battles wisely.

This time, he astonished everyone else by carrying back another deer. Slung over his shoulder, it was clearly smaller and likely a child but, still, a very impressive feat.

He too received congratulations as he threw the corpse into the wagon and settled down onto the log next to the older hunter, breathing heavily.

“Am I… the last?” He asked between huffed breaths, leaning backwards and looking at the tree tops.

“No, not quite. The new girl’s still in there,” The hunter answered, looking back at the forest.

“She’s probably messed up somehow and gotten herself injured,” Kaven said with a light chuckle.

The old hunter just frowned, not bothering with a response.

The birds were acting strange again. They circled in the sky, above the wood, and only descended occasionally and for very short periods of time. Highly unusual. It coincided with the odd acting critters in the forest as well.

One time, one of his best hunters managed to land a shot on a strange squirrel and when he brought it back, it was like it had been dead for days. The meat hadn’t decayed and it was moving not an hour earlier. It was like someone had preserved it alive, or some similar nonsense.

Finally, the last hunter emerged from the forest.

Glad in unusual clothes, she barely stood taller than the grass itself. A belt around her waist and a strap diagonally across her chest, both were decorated with numerous critter corpses. Squirrels, rabbits, voles, mice; it was like she had a whole menagerie on her body.

As she neared, some hunters congratulated her on the hunt–by far better than what everyone else did, excluding the two deer–while some jeered at her.

Some of the jeers were ridiculous, such as ‘scaring the animals to death’ and ‘made them kill themselves in mercy’. For some reason, a large number of hunters believed this girl–Riza, she said her name was–was the cause for the unusual animal activity.

The only evidence was the activity started the same time she joined the hunts. A coincidence and nothing more.

Besides, apart from a shaky first two days, Riza had brought back more game than some hunters would take a couple of weeks to, and this was only her fifth day here.

Silently, Riza threw her prey onto the wagon with the rest, standing aside as she glared at the jeering hunters.

Getting to his feet, the old hunter walked over to her.

“Don’t mind them. You did great today. Well done.”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, shifting her gaze from the rest of the hunters–who were now talking freely and relaxing after a job well done–to the seasoned hunter.

“Thank you, Tarrek. Why are they like that?” She asked.

She had a lovely voice the rare times she spoke and Tarrek thought she should speak more. It would certainly help ingratiate her into the group.

“Well, it’s, ah… You know how it is,” He fumbled. “You’re quite talented,” He said, the latter part of that sentence unfinished and left to insinuation.

Riza looked around at the rest of the hunters–a distinctly all male group–and sighed.

“I’m the last one?” She asked, which Tarrek confirmed. “Then let’s get going.”

The patrol house was nearly silent, with the only sounds that could be heard the gentle contact of a spoon against a bowl and the persistent, distinct thudding of crossbow bolts striking a wooden target.

The mess hall made the room feel like a ghost town–large and empty, with the stools in disarray as one woman languidly ate her dinner in peace.

From where she was sitting, she couldn’t see the training area but she already knew who was there. The girl had been going hard ever since she volunteered to join, barely leaving the building.

Not that she could blame her–she doubted the girl would be able to get any work with how she looked.

The woman sighed between sips of her stew when the auspicious girl came jogging into the room, free from her crossbow and quiver, ready for some grub.

A line of large, black, iron pots lined one side of the wall, placed upon metal fixtures holding a heating stone each. They were small and couldn’t produce great heat–necessary for the material alone to be sufficient to recharge–but maintained the warm temperature of the food within.

Not all pots were in use, and hadn’t been for a while, with only two out of five containing any food. They got refilled two times a day by a volunteer cook who worked in the dinky kitchen, as was the nature of this village.

The teenager came bounding in, only stopping for a minute as she saw the woman sitting at a table, watching her, before resuming her stride over to the nearest pot and emptying a good portion of stew into a bowl.

It was nice to finally have a bit of energy in this place.

The girl beelined straight for the woman’s table, settling herself down on the opposite side as she smiled in greeting.

“Hello!” She said, waiting a second or two before taking her first sip.

She almost dropped her spoon, her tongue hanging out her mouth like a dog as blew and blew, trying to cool it down.

“Ha. It’s a bit hot,” The woman said, taking a drawn out, large mouthful of the ‘piping hot’ stew before her. She gulped it down theatrically.

The girl gave her a side eye, blowing carefully on the next spoonful she contained. Thankfully, that seemed to cool it down to edible levels.

“Is it normally this empty?” She asked, looking around the large hall.

“No, but it’s not rare that it’s just me here. Even before the recruitment drive, it wasn’t full either. The builders were overly ambitious, I guess,” The woman explained.

“Where is everyone?”

“Out working other jobs. This is a volunteer service, you know.”

The girl sighed but quickly replaced it with an inquisitive look.

“Then why do I always see you here?”

Before the woman could answer, they both heard the door swing open, followed by echoing footsteps, and a young woman entered the mess hall.

Her distinctive, short, blonde hair left no imagination as to who she was. Doubly so when she walked over towards the girl and gave her a quick embrace.

“You’re okay,” She said, skipping past any kind of greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” The girl replied whimsically.

That seemed to be enough for the young woman; she made her way to fill up her own bowl with food and sat down beside her sister.

Her movements were awkward, and she seemed a bit hesitant to sit down at their table, the woman noticed, choosing not to comment on it.

“Hey. You didn’t answer my question!”

The woman chuckled lightly at her childish insistence. “I’m afraid it’s not that interesting a goal. I just wanted to get stronger so I found myself here.”

The blonde woman’s eyes finally looked at her dining companion as she smiled gracefully. It was light and charming.

“Then why stay here? Won’t killing demons be more effective?” The young woman’s eyes darted to the girl instead, as quick as an arrow and with a sudden intensity.

The woman noticed this but didn’t comment on it. “Perhaps it is but you’d need a group for that and, as you can see–” The woman paused, looking around the room with an exaggerated show–” There aren’t many people who are interested.”

The girl threw a look over to her sister this time. No words, but that seemed to be enough, as she merely mumbled ‘yeah’ quietly and got back to eating.

“I never learnt your name,” The woman decided to ask the older sister, having mostly finished with her dinner now.

“Riza. She’s Lefie,” She said with a small point over to the younger girl.

“Right. Lefie I already know. Well, wonderful to meet you, Riza. I’m Meren. If you see me around, don’t hesitate to talk to me.” With that, Meren stood up from the table and carried her bowl over to a precariously stacked pile of dirty bowls, adding to it with practised ease.

She smiled to herself as she left the room; there could certainly be less interesting additions to the village.

“Remember, keep your shield in front of you!” Meren said strongly, flashing the wooden spear lacking a head forward and striking Lefie on her right breast, drawing out a little yelp.

“But I can’t see anything!” Lefie whined, walking back to her start position as she raised her sword and shield back into a trained stance.

“That means you’re protecting yourself. You’d rather be alive but can’t see than dead. Now, again, use your shield.”

Meren readied her spear again, pretending it’s a spear, as she widened her legs for a strong, stable footing.

She kept the point moving in a circle, making sure Lefie couldn’t predict where she’d attack next.

A sudden attack, she thrust forward only to be batted off by Lefie’s sword.

A thrust, another thrust, Meren kept up the momentum, able to redirect attacks faster than Lefie could parry them and landing a clean hit on the inside of her shield arm.

“It’s not fair! You have a longer weapon than I do,” Lefie whined again, although she didn’t slow down returning to her ready position.

“Then stop complaining and get in close. Come one!”

Lefie huffed as she took one step forward, quickly pulling up her shield as Meren suddenly attacked, continuing to advance. Even though it was a simple circular shield, Lefie’s small frame meant it covered a fair portion of her body.

Another stab, blocked again. She was getting closer, and Meren smiled at her progress.

The attacks increased, Lefie quickly making it within the range that the spear was useless in. Meren threw it at her as she tried to draw her knife, too slow as Lefie’s wooden sword slashed her across her padded chest.

“Arg! I’ve been wounded,” Meren cried out in faux pain, sounding nothing but happy. “Better,” She said, looking down at the girl. “Again.”

The wagon was bumping along the dirt track as Tarrek steered it back to the village. The rest of the hunters were walking along after it, talking to each other, sharing experiences and tips or just gossiping about village life.

Riza was walking alone, keeping a fair distance from everyone else–the group had been less than accommodating, so far. It was fine; she was used to it.

The village seemed to have some sort of communal sharing policy regarding food. Although she always hunted a fair bit–having an army of forest critters helped with that–she didn’t see everything she killed on her plate the next day.

Instead, all the food was piled up in the wagon and ridden into the village to be distributed fairly to everyone and for free. That really surprised her; she was used to socialism existing on the fringes of society rather being an established and welcomed part of a medieval community.

Just another way this world differed from the one she came from.

She supposed she could see some benefit in it; people get food, bad hunters can learn and improve without the threat of starvation, and everyone can enjoy the spoils of a collective hunting experience.

Stewing in her thoughts, Riza barely noticed a fledgling hunter–Kaven, she believed his name was–walking up to her.

“Hey,” He greeted, taking her out of her head. She tensed, watching him carefully.

“Hello,” Riza replied steadily, cautious of letting emotion drip into her voice.

“It’s quite impressive how much you bring back each time. Not as large as a deer but still impressive.”

Riza didn’t know how to respond, merely giving an affirmative hum.

“If you want some training, tips, advice, I can help. If you’re free later today, I can set something up for us,” Kaven offered in a condescending tone.

“I’m not-I’m busy today,” Riza fumbled over her words, trying not to be rude.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Er… I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Make sure to tell me your answer soon.”

With that little exchange completed, Kaven had accomplished what he had come to do and caught back up with the other hunters, leaving Riza very confused.

“Tell me about your knife,” Meren asked between a bite of tough venison. “Never seen anything like it.”

Although Lefie had the bruises to show today’s sparing, both her and Meren were dressed rather casually. Lefie was wearing her Ancient clothes, unwilling to swap for something more contemporary, while Meren had on a somewhat baggy, blue blouse as well as tight-fitting trousers, Riza was embarrassed to admit she had noticed.

Meren’s clothing was distinctly unfeminine, when compared to the average peasantry, Riza noted, and was more similar to what the men wore. Not really surprising considering her profession (or hobby. Riza wasn’t quite sure how it worked yet).

“I don’t know much. I just found it one day. Lefie said it probably has a durability enchantment,” Riza said, holding out the weapon in front of her.

Meren looked at it lazily, giving it a casual appraisal.

“The material is strange but durability and sharpness enchantments are fairly common. Maybe it was left by a clumsy Chosen?”

“Hmmm,” Riza mumbled, though silently doubting that possibility. If it was left by anyone, it would be someone accustomed to magic.

“Does your spear have any enchantments?” Lefie asked.

“I wish,” Meren lightly laughed. “It’s not even my spear. I just use whatever weapon they have here, though spears are the only ones I have skills for

“You have spear skills?” Lefie lit up like a lightbulb.

“Yeah. Only two, though. I haven’t needed to kill a demon yet,” Meren responded, sounding disappointed with that fact.

“Not even during storms?” Riza enquired. Renald’s farm wasn’t that close to a source of fog but the demons came to storm it anyway.

Meren shook her head.

“Not much of an issue around these parts. We get a few stray ones during them but the majority are safely contained by the Chosen”

“Is it unusual for there to be a Dominion or Chosen presence in a village?”

“Well, yeah. They can’t be everywhere and some places just don’t need the protection.”

Riza mumbled again, acknowledging what was said while having nothing more to contribute.

The group resumed eating. Venison was a rare meal and it was a luxury whenever they got to eat. This was the first time for Riza and Lefie but they’d gathered from Meren that it wasn't too frequent an occurrence.

After they had finished and left the unusually busy cafeteria, Meren stopped Riza for a second to ask her a question.

“I don’t want to be too forward but you should join me while I’m training for a day. You’re with the hunting party–I’d like to see what you can do.”

Riza’s instinct was to immediately decline but, thinking about it, maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Meren had grown to be a friend the past few days and training with her might actually improve Riza’s abilities.

Lefie had been training by herself until Meren got involved and, anecdotally, it’s sped up her improvement significantly. Maybe it was time for Riza to improve her close quarters abilities.

“Uhm, sure. I can come down tomorrow,” Riza answered, unable to remove the uncertainty from her tone.

Meren’s face broke out into an eager smile.

“Great! Well, Lefie and I will be waiting for you.

Sunlight streamed through the window as a rustling of fabric and gentle thudding of footsteps preceded the fluttering of Lefie’s eyelids as she came to.

She groggily sat up and stretched out her body, as clarity of mind returned.

She saw Riza donning her jumper and thick coat, double checking her dagger was still in its sheath, and strapped that on too.

“Mornin’,” Lefie yawned as she shuffled to the edge of the bed, drawing Riza’s attention. The woman eyed her wooden bow for only a second before turning to Lefie.

“Here,” She said playfully, chucking Lefie’s own coat at her. It was getting colder and without the warmth of Riza beside her, a shiver ran through her body as she scrounged up the rest of her clothes to wear.

Fully adorned, the pair finally exited the house they had taken for themselves. After the recruitment drive, many homes were left empty and the inhabitants were happy to give her a whole house to live in. Adds a bit of life to the place, many had said.

It was closer to the outskirts of the village, at their intention. It was quieter here, with their only neighbours being the solitary quiet. The closer they got to the heart of Litchendorf, life returned to the buildings, to the streets.

As they passed people, Lefie offered a friendly greeting to everyone they saw. Some responded in kind, some not, but the girl was not to be deterred.

They eventually made their way to the patrol house, a large building housing a cafeteria, a dormitory, and a training room. None of them were all that large but compared to the vast majority of houses nearby, the building certainly stood out.

The inside was fairly empty, even for being early in the day. The morning was the busiest time, Lefie had discovered, because that was when everyone arrived to form teams, eat food, pick up their equipment, and figure out what they were doing for the day.

Minutes passed, and then hours. The pair ate, talked, ate some more. Riza was beginning to get antsy, fidgeting with her hands. At some point, Lefie suggested that they fight, just them, and Riza agreed. Something to take her mind off the time.

As Meren opened the door, sounds of clashing metal, hurried footsteps, and grunts of exertion drifted from the training room. She smiled a bit, closing the door behind her, as she hurried towards the sound’s origin.

No one else was here–typical–apart from a pair sparring together. Lefie had chosen a sword and shield again, a combination she seemed to be preferring by the day. Her back was to Meren, attention entirely on her opponent.

She waited a few seconds, sword pointing out and shield covering her torso, before lunging towards Riza.

Keep your shield in front of you. Meren couldn’t help but critique the way Lefie’s arm swung wide as she thrust forwards, Riza dodging back out of reach as she held her dagger forward in a somewhat crouched stance.

Unusual choice, Meren had to say. Daggers lacked reach unless you took throwing skills and even then, they lacked penetration and the versatility longer blades afforded you.

Riza’s offhand was empty but instead of being on her hip, or behind her back, like a standard sword fighting stance, it was in front of her as well. She lacked training, Meren instantly saw, but Riza’s form reminded her of something.

Another lunge, another dodge. She was fast on her feet.

The third lunge of Lefie’s was the one where she finally remembered to keep her shield in front of her and this was the one where Riza finally made her move, dodging over to Lefie’s shield-side and closing the distance.

Shoving the shield into her chest and stepping into her space, Riza grabbed for Lefie’s sword arm but not before the teen landed a blunt slash against Riza’s gambeson.

The match ended when Lefie felt the tip of Riza’s wooden dagger pressing into her back.

Watching, Meren analysed the fight. Riza clearly lacked training but understood her advantages over Lefie. The teen was new and struggled to use her shield effectively, unable to master the coordination yet. Riza was also bigger and, clearly, stronger, going in for more of a grapple, which was often the outcome whenever someone resorted to using their dagger.

“Very nice,” Meren commented, walking further into the room. The pair was dusty, the dirt floor having stuck to their legs. Lefie was also tired, breathing somewhat heavily, while Riza didn’t seem that expended.

“Sorry I’m late; I had to help my father with something. Did I miss much?”

“Not really. Just something to pass the time,” Lefie answered, looking towards Riza.

“You have to get better with your shield, Lefie. Remember, out in front-” Meren advised, demonstrating with her form “and keep an eye on your opponent.”

“I know! There’s just so much you have to remember–your feet, your stance, your energy. I am trying!”

Meren smiled at her enthusiastic energy, noticing Riza smiling too.

“Do you need anything or do we just, uh, get started?” Riza asked uncertainly once she noticed Meren’s gaze.

“I’ll collect gear. Won’t take very long,” She said, turning to go. “Oh, well done.”

Breathing calm, feet anchored and steady, Meren kept her eyes on her opponent. Loosely clad in obscure clothing, she was more unarmoured than herself, a fact she tried to ignore. Riza had said it was fine and to not hold back.

The matchup was almost comical–spear versus dagger–but she knew not to get too confident.

Her eyes traced her opponent like a hawk, taking in her feet, her hands, her eyesight. Mind synthesising the information and her limbs suddenly shooting out like lightning.

A hit on the breast, Riza too slow to get out of the way. Fifth hit in this fashion, with the others coming from a combination of swings and thrusts. She wasn’t even at full power and it was clear she already outclassed Riza.

She should’ve expected this; Riza didn’t have any levels while she already had 5, with level 10 skills taking up all of her slots.

But, even with that knowledge, part of her felt Riza was holding back. She’d heard the stories from the hunters and even though Riza supposedly used a bow, no one had seen her shoot it, seen her hunting, and she carried her black dagger around with her everywhere–even Lefie was currently holding onto it.

“Would you do better with a bow?” Meren asked. Something wasn’t right, wasn’t working.

Her opponent shook her head.

“Don’t hold back. I’m level 5–I can take it.”

“That’s not it,” Riza said quickly. “I’m used to fighting animals, not people.”

“Treat me like an animal. Do what you usually do,” Meren offered, returning to a lowered and stable stance.

Riza looked at Lefie, making eye contact, before returning her attention to the fight.

A few seconds passed as they kept measure, neither moving towards each other, until Meren decided to make her move.

Her arms shot forwards again, her spear catching Riza in the arm. However, this time, Riza wrapped her hand around the wooden shaft and abruptly pulled, catching Meren off-guard.

She quickly seized the opportunity, dashing in and pressing her dagger up against Meren’s chest before she even had the chance to withdraw her own dagger.

“Nice, but you still got hit.”

“It can heal.”

Better but there was still something off, Meren felt. Time for a different tact.

She walked over to where the training weapons were stashed, depositing her spear and taking out another dagger. Now, armed with two of them, she returned to the centre of the room, holding both pointed weapons out.

“I want to try something different this time,” She said, sliding her foot back as she presented her weapons towards Riza.

No waiting this time. As soon as Riza readied herself, Meren went in for the kill, dashing forward and striking with both daggers.

Riza’s free hand caught on while the other punched into her abdomen, drawing out a strained gasp as Meren shrugged out of the unexpectedly strong grip.

She helped Riza to her feet as the woman struggled to catch her breath, the wind knocked out of her.

“Sorry. I guess that too hard a hit,” Meren apologised as Lefie came rushing over to them.

“It’s… fine,” Riza said, losing focus for a second before muttering an unfamiliar word under her breath.

Something was still niggling at Meren but now wasn’t the best time to address it. She would have to wait.