‘This will be the day.’ Prost could sense the danger growing nearer. His children were at risk, the walls that had kept them safe for days would soon meet their match.

Before him, keeping their distance, was a horde of Glor’s hunters.

The many Heon killed from days before only had drawn more to the village. The souls hurrying back to inform their god of a new prey to be hunted down.

And now it had come to this, Glor had answered, and intended to harvest them. Hundreds of his children were gathered within the thickets of the forest, all of them waiting for the signal from their god to charge.

There was no mistaking it, his senses had never been wrong. Danger, death, and end was here. It was time for their children to leave, a battle between gods would soon start and they had no place in it.

Moving his awareness to Trud, great son and protector, he bestowed his champion orders and guidance.

Trud went still for a moment, taken by the dream, and the emotions it brought. He didn’t want to leave, Prost could sense that from his follower, he was tired of fleeing, of being the prey.

‘Youth, forever foolish.’ The only reason any of them were alive was because of that, the necessity of giving ground they couldn’t hold, to flee when victory was impossible. But the young hated that, to fail, to be defeated.

They needed guidance, such was one of his roles, a protector from irrational emotions and its many impulses.

Manifesting a form in the Glen, he placed a hand on his champion shoulder. He willed just enough of himself into the realm so it could be felt. Trud shoulders loosened and the boy sighed. The display of weakness, of hesitation, lasted a breath. Then his boy breathed deep, turned to his charges and voiced Prost intentions.

The word spread quickly, his followers going still, then rushing to gather everything.

“Great fight.” Stron said after forming an appearance within the Glen. “Great honor.” He added forming a fist.

Prost formed his own, pressed his knuckles against Stron’s in greeting and acceptance. It made the black furred god smile and tail wag.

“Will there be any trouble from your children?” He asked the god of struggle.

Stron shook his head. “They understand, lose many from hunter.”

His words were held by truth, none of Stron’s kin argued or claimed they would stay. All helped gathered supplies and make ready to flee to a new home.

“Malan right.” Stron added, watching the process as well.

“When isn’t he?” Prost countered.

Malan, a being shaped in the form of a race Prost had ill meetings with. Dargown, a runt like people with some resemblance to Kolune, but with ears that lack the strength to stay stiff.

The moment he saw that entity, one clad in oddities, his senses had screamed danger. It told him the being was a force that could end him and his people if pressed.

But Malan had been friendly, and submissive. He was backward to what Prost had experienced with Dargown divinity. At first he’d thought it a trick, a means to get him to lower his guard, so he had been unwelcoming. Offering the information Malan wanted in return for him to leave. It had been a forceful push so the other would show his truth self.

It hadn’t worked, the god of oddity left, never once showing hostility. Prost had felt at a loss at the outcome, confused as to why his senses had been so tense. The feeling only broadened when Malan returned offering a warning for free.

Even then, the god of oddities made his senses tremble. No matter Malan’s words, warming smile, and kind nature, had been able to lessen the trembles Prost’s felt.

Malan was something to be feared, and yet... the longer they stayed together, something to be accepted.

“Miss him,” Stron spoke bringing Prost back to the present. “Always has plan, know what to do.”

“We have a plan Stron.” Prost reminded the other god.

Stron smiled. “Right now. But,” the god shrugged, waved a hand about as if trying to catch the needed words.

“What about the future?” Prost added, which Stron nodded to.

“We start again, make a home hidden in the dirt.”

Malan had been open with the intent of that change, how Glor favored a wide area to battle in.

It appeared sound, all of them had been bestowed visions of the fight, allowing them to studied Glor’s fighting habits. He like to be on the move, a constant blur that was hard to track and enclose upon.

“Don’t like hiding.” Stron admitted, a hand running down the length of a scar Glor had caused. “But foe, not weak, too strong.”

“Wise words,” he said, meaning them. There had been many who had refused to flee or hide, they were all gone now. Slain and consumed by Glor’s growing horde. Their fate would be no different if they chose the same, even with the aid Malan had provided the outcome was unchanged.

Again they would flee, learn from their mistakes and build a better home. Perhaps it would even be a permanent one.

It was something he and his children dreamed of. A matter he wanted Malan to be wrong about. That Glor wasn’t obsessed, that if they fled far enough, the hunter wouldn’t follow. That perhaps more interesting prey would appear and claim the Hunters attention, that they would be left in peace to exist.

‘But he won’t.’

Prost could feel it, the focused danger, Glor and his children wanted them dead. Wanted their bones for their trinkets, and flesh for meat.

Walking back over to a section of wall pointed towards the horde, Prost lifted himself up just enough to peek over the edge. The land was still claimed by night, but the colorful shifts in hues coming from the mortals made them stand out.

So many, there had to be double the number of them compared to his combined tribe.

“What they wait for?” Stron said by his side.

“Early light,” he answered. “It’s their preferred time to attack, when prey is still drossy.” Glor’s children had used it frequently on Prost’s own. Catching young males off guard as they stumbled into the woods to begin the ritual of meat gathering.

Stron grumbled as he looked up into the sky. “Wait then.”

“This is good for us,” Prost said, reminding the other they didn’t want a fight, not with their mortals around.

Stron grumbled again. “Don’t like waiting.” The night colored Kolune said before dropping back down to the dirt floor. He began to pace about after, the god of fighting disaligned with inactivity.

Prost returned his attention back to the forest, wishing Malan was with him. That entity had all seeing eyes, and always seemed to know everything taking place around him.

‘He would be able to see what is going on in there.’ Wouldn’t be blinded by the forest that hid danger. Not him, all Prost could do was guess and wait, to which he did both.

Time passed, all of their children fleeing down into the rock tunnel below, the passage taking them away from this place. He felt Myock link with him, the rock god informing that the entrance had been undone. Glor’s children wouldn’t be able to use it or even guess there had ever been one at all.

Prost sighed, the danger pressing on him faded. His children had successfully escaped again. Now all there was to do was keep Glor distracted and make him pay for this attempt.

His ears twitched up as he heard the forest shiver with foreign movements. It was time, the dark was thinning, the morning almost near.

The forest splintered as the horde rushed forward and Prost felt Glor’s touch. Heon surged with strength and leapt high into the air. It carried them over the wall. Prost smiled at the sight, at the horror that marked their faces when they saw what awaited them.

They gave out shouts of alarm, pleas for aid, but there was nothing Glor could do.

Hunters fell into the spike traps, their lives ended instantly and bodies left twitching.

More met the same fate, the warning given too slow. Another wave was speared before the Heon stopped themselves. They rushed the walls instead, leaping just high enough to grab hold of the lip and peer over the barrier.

They let out cries of surprise and disgust when they saw the trap and their fallen brothers. Word was sent down the line as more hunters swarmed the walls. For a passing moment the horde was stalled by those in the front transfixed on the sight. But the young, the brash, they were the first to taste anger, to let fury guide their actions.

They pulled themselves up, stood on top of the wall and jumped down into the enclosed area. The action spread amongst the horde, and soon hunters walked through the area of spikes. Most kept their heads down and avoided looking at the limped dead.

They marched quickly, Heon passing the trap and into the village proper. They rushed forward afterward, heading for the stone dwellings as they shouted battle cries.

The sound died down quickly when nothing came to answered their calls. For all the noise they had made, the village remained lifeless. Heons spread out, combing through the place, shocked and infuriated to find it abandoned.

“Now?” Stron asked by his side, his fangs shown and claws extended.

Prost looked back at the tide still coming over the edge, he nodded his head and prepared himself. “Now.”

With a roar, Stron manifested himself into the realm. The act made creation rumble and ground quake as Stron towering figure stomped upon the dirt. His own battle cry had the Heon flinch and their long ears go limp. A breath later the rest of their bodies did as well. With long claws and hands flexed, Stron clawed the air. Where his swipes went, blood and entrails followed.

The Kolune of shadow laughed, his figure dashing about crushing and rending mortals who tried to flee. Their cries of alarm took the air.

“Glor, Glor, Glor!” They screamed panicked.

“Glor save us,” came the call after.

Prost readied himself, desired to keep his brother safe from harm.

His senses answered him, he felt the danger fast approaching.

Dispersing his Glen form, he became only will, an awareness that would be harder to track.

Afterward he saw Glor leap high into the air, he gazed upon the Hunter who wore a Kolune skull over his face.

Falling out of view, the figure blocked by the wall, Prost relied on his senses. He felt the building of power, the heightening of danger.

It roared in his mind. ‘Now!’ his senses screamed. ‘He comes now!’

Charging straight through the wall, spear leading the way, Glor arrived in a blur rushing to spear Stron.

Appearing in a flash and using extra Devotion to hasten the process, Prost manifest to the right of Glor, shield of stone with him.

With a roar of his own he took the Hunter by surprise, with all the force he could muster Prost slammed his weapon into the Heon. He sent the Hunter flying off course and skidding across dirt before righting himself.

Stron was there, figure in the air that shimmered as he summoned his own weapon.

The axe pulsed with hate, and Glor hastily lifted his spear, using the length of it as a shield and stopping the axe from digging into him.

The act caused the stone under Glor to shatter, a sign of how much force the Heon had countered. But Stron didn’t slow, or be taken by surprise that his attack had been stopped. He was prepared, the moment Glor had blocked, Stron had formed another axe, one just as wicked and promising of death. That came for Glor side, the Heon forced to give ground and hastily retreat as Stron followed, axes whirling as he forced Glor on the defensive.

‘Now Myock,’ Prost sent.

The rock shivered, and before Glor could react, a stone wall appeared behind him, he crashed into it, his retreat blocked and Stron upon him. Axes blurring Stron hacked at the Heon who desperately maneuvered his spear to take the blows.

Stuck and distracted, Glor was helpless as Myock acted again, spikes shot up piercing into his legs.

Glor let out a startled cry, his focus broken allowing Stron to bring an axe down onto his shoulder blade.

The spear dropped, and Stron embedded the second axe into the other shoulder. Claws and maw ready to finish the fight. Prost rushed forward, his senses screaming.

They all felt it, the expenditure and then shiver that went through creation.

The area around Glor was repulsed, the stone and Stron sent hurling back. The latter recovered quickly, as Prost caught him and dug his claws into the dirt to stop their flight.

After, Prost willed more Devotion into his shield and moved in front of Stron, keeping them both free from the whirlwind.

“He angry,” Stron said over his shoulder.

Blunt but true, Glor hadn’t taken his beating well.

Devotion spilled into his form, undoing the damage. Glor rose calmly, eyes full of malice as the spear rose back into his hand.

Prost would never have saw the attack coming, a blink and he would have found himself speared. Instead his senses screamed and he acted on impulse alone. He pushed himself and Stron to the side, a blur rushing past them. He still took some damage from it, the aura coming off the Spear searing.

‘I can’t block that,’ he sent to Stron. ‘Not without draining our people’s faith.’

He would be able to match Glor for a few hits if he did, but then that would be it, and he could sense Glor was just getting started.

“I know that look.” The hunter yelled, amusement and anger in his words. “You’re planning to run.” Prost had to dodge wildly again, and continue to do so. “But you can’t do that.”

Stron went for him, axes raised.

‘Back!’ Prost screamed through their link, his senses warning of the blow to come. Stron listened, backing away and in turn dodging the spear thrust meant for him. “If I get my hands on you,” Glor finished, and Prost felt his sense of danger flare.

He raised his shield in time, moved as much Devotion into it as he dared. The strike didn’t pierce his defense, but it did send him hurling back.

Ground broke under him as he dug his paws into the soil, slowing his backward momentum. He prepared himself for another blow, But there wasn’t one, he wasn’t the target.

‘Stron run,’ he sent forcing his Avatar forward with all his strength, and trying desperately to claim the lost ground. But he was too far and Glor too fast.

Glor’s attacks blurred around Stron, the warrior evading and practically tripping over himself to avoid being hit. The act only achieved because of a combined effort of natural skill and Prost continued warnings. But Stron could only move so fast, he would have to spend more Devotion to keep up and that was a loss. They needed to retreat not further reinforce their hold on the realm.

The spear took Stron at the upper chest, linking with the shoulder and arm.

‘Myock’ Prost sent. ‘Aim for Glor’s followers.’

He bestowed the deity with Devotion, felt rock shift and screams come from the forest as he charged.

Prost felt the path of the coming strike, the way Glor would turn using the spear to swipe at him. He dipped his body low, the attack passing over him as he rushed forward, pushing himself upward and into the Heon.

Shield first he tried tackling the Hunter into the ground. But Glor merely flexed his legs, stiffened his stance, and in turn, made Prost feel as though he smashed into an immovable object.

His senses screamed, but it was too late, he felt a knife enter into the side of his chest, the weapon easily biting into his avatar.

Desperate, he unsummoned his shield, the object instantly dissolving, to Glor’s surprise. He latched on to the Heon, claws digging into fur and hide that wouldn’t break. He used his maw too, biting into the neck region.

“Get off of me!” Glor shouted annoyed as he began to break free of Prost’s grip.

He was strong, Prost wouldn’t be able to hold on, not with the knife being rammed deeper and deeper into his side.

‘Kill them Myock,’ he sent along with more Devotion, ‘Kill every follower he brought, quickly.’

Stron came running, his chest wound healed. Axe in hand, the thing deeply woven with intent, Stron slammed the blade into the center of Glor’s back. It dug into bone and flesh, but not as deeply as it should have.

Glor laughed, “Is that all you-

The Hunter’s head snapped in the direction of the forest, just now becoming aware of the panicked screams.

Glor hissed, and Prost felt the power in the avatar double.

Danger.

Prost felt himself be kneed in the gut, the force of it sending him hurling away. From his view he saw Glor spin, catching Stron with the spear and sending the other warrior tumbling across the ground.

Then the Hunter was off, a haze of movement heading for the screams.

‘Disperse now!’ He sent to the other two.

He forced Devotion back into his being, unwove his avatar as fast as he could.

He breathed peacefully once he was back in the Glen, safe from Glor.

His sense faded, danger distant.

“That went... bad.” Stron said as he slowly approached, hand rubbing his chest.

‘Myock,’ Prost sent. ‘Did you get out in time?’

A bundle of thoughts came back, wild and unused to words. ‘Yes’, it answered and Prost let out a sigh of relief.

A shout of rage sounded in the air, followed with rock quaking. They both turned to the noise, and barely a moment later Glor came charging back. He shattered most of the village wall to pieces, and his every step crack the ground.

Eyes wide, fists clenched, Glor turned his sights on them, spear raised. Stron stiffened, stance ready to take a blow, but Prost rested a hand on his shoulder.

For all the intent coming off Glor, he felt no danger, even as the Heon charged.

The spear promised destruction, its radiating light an end, and yet, nothing.

In a blur the attack passed right through them.

Glor slammed a paw down, the ground shattering apart as the Hunter turned to face them. They met his gaze, the Heon shaking with fury

“You think you’re safe,” Glor said. “That I can’t reach you, but I will, sooner or later you will have to face me. Sooner or later I will find your people, no matter where they hide, or how far they scurry.”

“I will have them.” The Hunter said as he approached. “I will have you, and I will finish you off.” He added pointing a claw at Stron.

“I don’t want to be your enemy,” Prost said to the Hunter, which made him laugh cruelly.

“You are not an enemy,” Glor said displaying his pointed teeth. “You’re prey that has the nerve to think they can beat the hunter. I’m going to kill them slowly, hang your children up by stone as you did to mine this day.” Glor’s hand reached for them, claws pointed and ready to rend meat, but it stopped short as the god remembered they couldn’t be touched.

“You will be among them, I’ll have your corpse hang there for a night or two, maybe even let the beasts feast on you to make a point.”

Prost could see it, there was no getting away from this, Glor would come again and again. Each time the hunter failed; he would be compelled ever greater to end them.

The only way to be free, to be safe, was to kill the Hunter.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he tried one last time. The lands were plenty, game everywhere, they all could have a place, there was no need for this.

Glor scoffed. “It is the only way, prey, you die to feed your betters, like all the others.”

Prost sighed, fate was set, and unchanging.

‘Let us be off,’ he sent to Stron and Myock. ‘There’s no need for us to stay here.’ He could feel their children were far off now, the tunnel allowing them to travel at a miraculous speed.

“Bye bye fool,” Stron said to the Hunter, causing the Heon to hiss and swing at them wildly.

Prost closed his eyes, focused on his children, and returned to their side. He watched them hurry down the lightless passage, all holding each other’s hands in a long chain.

“Now what?” Stron asked.

“Make a new home,” he said reminding his brother. “And to think of the future.”

‘And the deal I must make.’ Malan had been holding back, in what ways he did not know, but Prost knew he had more to offer.

He thought of Glor, the power he showed, how if it ever came to a lasting fight, the Hunter would rip them apart.

He looked at his children, the desire in them shining bright. Safety, peace, a place to grow and prosper.

‘It’s a father’s responsibility to provide, to protect, to… sacrifice.’

It was time to make a lasting deal with an oddity.