It was dark, it felt dark. Benjamin couldn't really see around him, but it wasn't like he was nowhere. He felt like he was on top of a small island, slightly bigger than the raging sea around him. He could not see it, nor could he hear it, yet still he felt with every fiber of his being. Around that small, sandy patch of land, was a raging sea that threatened to engulf him, taking his every part of his being with it. He was afraid, so afraid. He hoped, he even prayed, that the sea would not reach him, but it was a hollow expectation.

First were the small splashes. Benjamin didn't feel it as they wet him, but somehow, he feel as he had lost something, as if even small droplets of that water could easily eat into him and if he let it, would eat into his entire being. So he resisted, and with resistance came pain. He wanted so badly to shout, yet he couldn't. He tried his best to dodge the invisible splashes from the darkness, but the small land he was on did not afford him much in terms of mobility. So the splashes kept pelting him, each hurting as much as the strongest of acids.

“Don't resist, there is no need to resist.”

The voice. Whose voice? It called to him, yet he resisted, He wasn't ready to be completely undone, not yet.

“It will destroy me, it is destroying me. It hurts so much. I must resist.”

He could not see it, but he knew that the voice, no, whoever or whatever the voice belonged to, smiled. It smiled as a caring mother that sees her young son needlessly struggling against something that could only bring him good. It spoke with such tenderness, such gentleness.

“You don't need to resist, it only hurts and destroys you because you resist.”

It spoke with such certainty, such sincerity, that he couldn't help lowering his guard. Just as the voice said, the pain went away and even as the small splashes ate at him, he found that he no longer minded it. Yet, that lowered resistance led to something else, the water came rushing into the land, and soon it covered his feet and just as it did, his feet were gone, only bones remaining. A panicked voice seemed to wake him up.

“Don't be complacent! Don't just let it completely wash you away, hold on to yourself!”

It was like an electric shock, and suddenly he was panicking again. Pain shooting through his entire being as his flesh was torn from his bone, just as his sense of self threatened to be completely swallowed. With whatever protection he had around the land gone, the sea was slowly but surely engulfing him. As the waves came and receded, they took more and more of his flesh with him.

“It is taking away all that I am? What do I do?”

He spoke, unsure of who he was speaking to. Which of the voices. Although, were they not the same? Even if they were different.

“Resist it.”

“Submit to it.”

The voice commanded him in two ways at the same time. Another wave took more of his flesh.

“Revel in it.”

“Restrain it.”

He did not know what the voice talked about, yet he knew what to do. More and more of him was being taken away.

“Understand that you are worth nothing among everything.”

“Understand that you are what makes everything worth.”

He needed only to confidently follow and understand the voice. To him, everything felt true, even as it was wrong.

“Absorb everything into you.”

“Dissolve into everything around you.”

As he followed the voice's instructions, he wanted to thank it, yet he no longer could. Now completely submerged, he had been completely stripped of his flesh and could no longer speak, for he had no lungs. And yet, bereft of of everything, he was still himself, even if he was no one in particular.

With fresh knowledge of himself, he swam up. Which other direction should he swim in but up? Even if he could not see it, he knew that he had to go up. And as as he swam up, he knew that his flesh was returning to him, not just his flesh, but also the flesh of many others, and yet it was all his, just how he knew one day his flesh would also be someone else's. Aware of his dissolution, he finally came out of it all the stronger in his existence. He needed not to gasp for air in that water, for it provided him with everything. He swam and swam, until eventually he reached the surface.

Even though he hadn't needed to moments before, as soon as Benjamin broke the surface, he gasped for air taking in a huge breath. Now completely dazed, especially when compared to that intense feeling of enlightenment that filed him moments before, he grasped at the ground and pulled, trying to get out of the water. It must have been eager to spit him out, for it didn't take long for him to pull himself out completely. Taking in ragged breaths, he tried to understand what was going on.

“What, what just happened to me?”

Even though his was essentially a rhetorical question, someone answered him.

“You just journeyed through the land of the dead and came back, would be a pretty apt metaphor, I suppose. Though I strongly suspect it wasn't all that metaphorical from your point of view.”

Unable to really process what was going on around him, Benjamin looked in the direction of the voice that had answered, but couldn't really remember who it was. Still, that person might actually help him understand what was going on.

“Could you be a little... clearer? I don't really follow you, and...”

His vision became even blurrier than it was before, and it became increasingly more difficult to understand what was going on.

“Well, it's no wonder, you really should rest.”

Rest? Yes, rest seemed like quite a good idea to him. He now realized how ridiculously tired he was. After all, he had just swam so much, for so long. He could rest now. It was a calm and dreamless rest that followed.

The next time he woke up, he felt so well-rested, that it was quite incredible. How long had it been since he last felt so good after sleeping? As he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the worried, but smiling face of Layla.

“Good morning, recorder, it seems things ended up ultimately well for you, how are you feeling?”

He recognized the voice that just spoke to him. Even if it still felt somewhat jarring, it didn't make him that nervous anymore. Even if the one talking to him was the Countess of Entoma, he felt a kind of... kinship with her now. Even before he could answer her, Layla protested the Countess' words.

“Hey, he has a name, you know? It's Benjamin...”

Before, he might have been terrified by seeing someone speak to a ruler in such informal tones, but now he understood it. As for the Countess, she smiled and shrugged.

“Well now, does he really have a name? And is it Benjamin? Hmm?”

It took him quite a while to answer, as he looked at himself, seeing how much he had changed, be it body or mind. It would not be all that preposterous to declare that he was no longer the same person as before and therefore could not be called Benjamin. And yet, he still felt a sense of continuity. He might have gone through a gigantic change, he could still say with confidence that he was Benjamin and that, he felt, was all that was needed.

“Yeah, I am still Benjamin, I'm sure.”

As Layla hugged him, it just felt so comfortable.

They told him everything that had happened after he had been hit by that tree. Both Dragons were successfully hunted with no further casualties. After that, seeing no other choice, as Benjamin's life faded, they decided to leave his life in the hands of the Pool of Abel. That gamble paid off, saving Benjamin, but forever changing him. With no resentment, he accepted the Countess' apology for letting such a thing happen to him, who was there merely to observe. It is likely that the Berserker, Samson, will want to offer his own apology.

As for Fuchsgart, whose actions caused such problem during the Grand Hunt, he said that he regretted some of the consequences of his betrayal, but that if given the same choice again, would do little different. Whether the Countess would find his actions justifiable or not, he pleaded to be heard to the last word.

Apparently, it had never been the intention of him and his associates that Basbuzuc would become ruler of Gardie. It was a regrettable thing that happened because they underestimated Basbuzuc's brutality. They had first planned to merely depose the Frog that had been Baron for so long, or failing that, at least limit his authority. “Surely you, of all people, know the importance of freedom.” There was no way such words wouldn't touch Isabel the Trestia's heart.

Yet Basbuzuc, overtaken by rage, massacred the Baron that came before him, along with most of his closest advisers, then showed a lust for power even beyond his aggressive personality. What was Fuchsgart and his associates to do? Basbuzuc became a folk hero overnight, over-thrower of tyranny. Of course, the common people couldn't know what lay behind the legend of the oppressed freedom fighter who succeeded in his revolution. Fuchsgart had his hands tied and couldn't avoid swearing loyalty to Basbuzuc, even as he was filled with misgivings. He knew that not doing so would have dire consequences for his life.

Once again, he and his associates underestimated Basbuzuc. “How bad could he be?” They told each other. “He's not immortal, so at worst we are looking at a few bad decades. We can weather this storm, right?” They were wrong. There was no excess Basbuzuc didn't seem willing to commit. Random destruction of anything and anyone that displeased him, blatant favoritism for people in his inner circle, fabulous expenses in parties and other events and megalomaniac monuments. But the worst of all could barely be spoken loudly. There was not a single human woman who Basbuzuc found beautiful that he did not force to bed him, and he did not have all that high standards. Married or not, it did not matter, and in fact, it seemed like he had a knack for forcing himself on married women much more frequently than unmarried ones.

Some might believe that to be a small thing in the grand scheme of things. Others might argue that it really wasn't Gardie's ruling class' problem, as none of the women taken were mutants. But they could see the problems boiling. A new rebellion might have been inevitable and regardless of its final result, Gardie would be extremely weakened by it. Thus, taking opportunity of the Grand Hunt, Fuchsgart resolved himself to cause the Baron's death at any cost.

Ultimately, the Countess decided not to take the fox's life, but she took both the Dragons as compensation. Gardie would have nothing to show for the Grand Hunt, despite apparently losing so much. Fuchsgart's treachery would remain unknown, save for very few people.

It felt strange to see such a powerful warrior bowing before him, but Samson did vow to protect Benjamin and failed at that. Thus, he offered the highest value compensation he could think of.

“If you would like, my Goddess would extend her apologies in person. What do you say?”

The Goddess of Tal, rumored to be the oldest and wisest intelligent being in not just the Wildlands, but perhaps the world. Who, with a minimum of academic curiosity, would refuse such an invitation?

“Of course! I'm counting on you to take me there, in one piece preferably.”

Such knowledge was all around him in the Wildlands! Even as he open and closed his now much more insect-like hand, he could say with complete certainty that he indeed did not regret leaving the Empire.

GRAND HUNT THE END