By the time Aria reached the town center activity buzzed everywhere. Villagers milled about, each one moving with purpose. Aria saw many like her, geared up for the hunt. Most were men, some of which were laden with heavy leather and other kinds of hide. No doubt these were the less experienced clansmen. Any seasoned veteran could tell you that all the hide in the world wouldn’t protect you from the claws of a weir. And even the best plate armor would be rendered useless in the jaws of such a creature. Aria had learned the lesson the hard way as some of these men were no doubt about to. She had made the mistake of attempting to deflect a Weir’s slash with nothing but her leather bracer. She’d almost lost the use of her arm due to that little mistake. That experience is why her current bracers each had been lined with a special chain-mail her master had made for her. Each of her bracers were worth a king’s ransom to some, though they were priceless to her.

Soon after Aria arrived at the statue of The Mother, the movement ceased. The Chief climbed up the podium that surrounded the statue and stood before the entire village. A look of hard determination set upon his face.

“Tonight we hunt.” The Chief said, causing the entire village to grow quiet. “Our prey: a weir pack. However, be warned. According to our reports the one leading the pack is a white weir.” That last part had people talking again. A weir was one thing. They’re little more than mindless lupine monsters. Tough, to be sure, and not to be taken lightly, but as long as you were mindful you could deal with the creature. A white weir is altogether a different experience. They are stronger, faster, and smarter. Eerily so. There are stories of a white weir being able to set ambushes. Use feints. Act almost...human in combat.

The Chief raised his hand, and the talking died down once again. “The best we can tell right now is that there are eight or nine in total. They’re pretty spread out, but they were definitely headed this way. The last sighting was north of the center of town. However, since then they’ve turned west, and seem to be heading toward the gate. I’m afraid we won’t know their exact location until we find them. Until then, keep sharp and don’t let your guard down. Dismissed.”

At the Chief’s dismissal the crowd of villagers broke up. Some grouping up while others, like Aria, chose to go it alone. Of course going out alone wasn’t exactly Aria’s choice. She didn’t really have a choice. The only clansman in the entire village that could stand to talk to Aria for more than five minutes was Deja, and she wasn’t a hunter. She was somewhere in the village center, preparing for the injured that were sure to show up.

As the crowd thinned villagers made their way for whichever exit they preferred. Most went to the gate, others chose to climb over the wall. There were many sections designed just for that, with stairs leading up to the top and ropes available to throw over the edge and climb down. Having an entire village evacuate through the single gate, in case of emergency, would most likely not end well.

Aria chose one such up-and-over, as the villagers call them, just north of the gate. No others had chosen this particular point, as most who wished to venture east went out the gate, and those that wished to venture west climbed over further to the north. If groups started meeting in the middle it would give a better idea of where the creatures were. Or weren’t.

Aria’s feet hit the dirt as she repelled down the side of the wall. The dark of the night had fully set in, and a slight fog rolled in, clinging to the forest floor. Before doing anything else, Aria closed her eyes and concentrated. Once her eyes were closed, Aria began speaking softly, as she was taught.

“Spirits of Life, gather before me.” She whispered. “Nurture my eyes and grant to me the ability to peer through the darkness.” Aria could feel the air shift around her. A warmth spread through her core and reached up to her eyes. Once she opened them again, Aria could see through the forest. Perhaps not as well as if it were daytime, but the full moon shone bright above the forest canopy, and Aria could see for some several hundred meters before the darkness obscured her vision.

Satisfied with her work, Aria freed her bow from its perch on her back, and readied an arrow. A distant howl echoed off the trees around her as she stalked through the forest. As Aria flowed from tree to tree her head never stopped turning. Her eyes continuously peered through the darkness in search of her prey. What felt like hours passed. Howls periodically pierced the night sky, reverberating off the trees. All the while, Aria stalked through the forest methodically with a practiced ease.

Eventually Aria grew tired and paused to drink from her waterskin. She leaned her back against the trunk of a large tree as she drank. The feeling of the cool liquid spread around her tongue and then down her throat. An almost euphoric feeling, as Aria realized she had not had anything to drink since her dinner with Sota. That feels almost like a lifetime ago. As Aria’s mind wandered her eyes shifted up, trying to see through the dense forest canopy above. It has been a while since the last of the howls. Maybe… Aria’s thoughts were brought to a screaming halt as something caught her attention.

Acting on pure instinct Aria contorted her body, twisting away from an inexplicable feeling of danger. Her arms had risen to either side of her face in a desperate attempt at protection. An instant later a powerful force struck one of Aria’s forearms and continued across her upper arm and even slashed across her pack. The blow forced Aria to the ground and a searing pain erupted from the spot where she had been struck just below her shoulder. Aria could feel a warm sensation spreading down her arm as blood streamed from the laceration.

As she hit the ground Aria rolled, maneuvering so she faced her attacker. Before her stood a terrifying creature whose silver eyes rested nearly two-and-a-half meters above the ground. Thick, snow white fur covered its back and arms, with a shorter, grayer coat covering its front. Aria stared at the lupine creature as she chastised herself for her complacency. Dammit, she thought. I should have enhanced by other senses as well. That mistake is going to cost you Aria.

The white weir dropped onto all fours, never taking its eyes off of Aria. Powerful fangs protruded from its elongated snout. Drool dripped onto the ground as the creature snarled. The smell of putrid rotting flesh rose to Aria’s nostrils. Everything about this creature exuded death. From its cold, calculating eyes, to the sharp claws which adorned its fingers.

Aria faced the weir, her hand gripped tightly around the kukri blade at her waist. Aria knew her bow lay less than a meter to her right, lying on the ground near the tree she had been resting at just moments ago. Though she was tempted to, Aria did not chance a glance in its direction. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on the weir’s movements as it paced before her. Aria’s heart thudded against her chest and her brow became slick with sweat. There was no doubt in her mind that the weir could taste her fear.

Aria crouched low, her right hand grasped the hilt of her blade in her patented reverse grip, still with the blade in its sheath. She made no sudden movements. Her left arm slowly rose in front of her as her stance widened ever so slightly. She knew going for her bow would mean death. There was no way she could reach the weapon, knock an arrow, and fire before the weir gutted her. Instead, she would have to wait. If this were a normal weir it would lunge at her, without thinking of the consequences. Making it easy to parry and retrieve her bow, if not out-and-out killing it on the spot, if she got lucky. But of course I’d have to run across this damned white monster.

Aria and the weir stared each down as the monster paced from side to side. It watched Aria with a cautious eye. Almost as if it were studying her. I won’t get anywhere at this rate, Aria thought. The longer we’re stalemated here the more likely it is another one of these blasted things will show up. Hoping for reinforcements from the village is certainly out of the question. Aria almost laughed at the thought. Her hoping the villagers might save her? The sooner she banishes the idea the sooner she can make a move to save her own life.

After a few moments of thought Aria decided on her strategy. Her left hand slowly moved to one of the compartments at her chest. Inside she keeps a special kind of smoke pellet. Something she designed for just this kind of occasion. A few more seconds passed by and Aria’s hand retrieved a couple of her special pellets. The weir’s eyes narrowed, almost suspicious of what it saw. The creature stopped in its tracks, unsure of how to respond to Aria’s slight movements. Now! Aria thought, as she snapped her hand out, sending her smoke pellets smashing into the ground between herself and the weir.

Aria’s movement changed the creature’s indecision into action as it leapt forward, preparing to strike at Aria once again. However, an instant after the smoke pellet struck the ground an acrid smoke exploded into being. As the weir leapt through the smoke its eyes and nostrils burned, causing it to shout in pain and surprise. The sudden loss of two of its senses, as well as the unexpected pain, caused the monster to lose its balance, and crash into ground.

While the weir was stunned, Aria made a break for her bow. She dashed across the ground, leaping onto her bow, rolling across the dirt, and raising her raising her weapon to bare. With a deftness of hand that could only be achieved through years of training Aria simultaneously rose her bow and drew an arrow. Not a moment later the weir was once again charging towards Aria. And it kept charging, even as an arrow struck the creature's shoulder yet failed to penetrate its tough hide. As Aria did not wish to be mauled by the charging weir, she spun out of the way, narrowly avoiding a deadly slash of the weir’s claws and accumulating another cut. This time, a thin red line sprouted along Aria’s jaw. If she had moved just a second later, her neck would have been split wide open, and she would have bled to death in moments. Aria did what she could to create distance between herself and the weir, while it huffed and wheezed, tearing into the ground in frustration. Aria hoped to get off another shot, however the weir had no intention of giving her the time to do so. Aria was forced to loose the arrow before it had been fully drawn, and yet again it failed to penetrate its target. The weir’s senses were clearly still under the effect of Aria’s smoke, as the creature flailed wildly, passing only centimeters from Aria’s chest as she dodged out of the way.

Mere moments after its failed attack the weir renewed its efforts, again attempting to disembowel Aria with wild swings. This time Aria was forced draw her kukri blade, and use it as well as her bow to parry the blows, as desperation gripped her panicked heart. Even with her blade drawn, Aria still couldn’t do any real damage to the beast. Its hide reduced what would normally be life threatening blows to merely scrapes and shallow cuts. Meanwhile Aria accumulated wound after wound. Her arms soon became covered in dirt and slick with blood, as her flesh was torn again and again. The ferocity of the weir never letting up. Over the course of the desperate struggle the weir’s actions become less panicked, and more calculating. The effects of Aria’s smoke had begun to dwindle. If she didn’t do something quick to turn the tide of this fight she was going to die. Either she’d bleed out from the plethora of wounds that decorated her body, or by being torn in half by the ferocity of the white weir.

As the battle raged on Aria was thrown from her feet, sent flying by the backhanded swing of the weir. Aria sailed through for forest air, crashing into a large boulder. As she made contact with the stone Aria could feel something in her arm give way. White hot pain exploded from her limb. Tears welled up in Aria’s eyes and she struggled to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her. She tried raising herself but her injured left arm couldn’t even move, let alone support her weight. Aria struggled to get to her feet, as she peered through blurry vision. The weir was moving toward her, slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. In that moment, Aria had never experienced anything as difficult as it was to get to her feet, yet she still managed to do it. Aria fought with all her strength and resolve to stand to her feet. Her useless left arm simply dangled by her side. Even so, Aria refused to give up. She had dropped her bow at some point, yet it mattered little. She had long since given up trying to kill this beast with her bow and arrow. As Aria stood there she fished something small out of one of her pockets. A powerful painkiller. Something to make moving in her torn body easier, but not so powerful as to dull her senses. She chews and swallows the concoction, hoping the effects will kick in quickly.

Aria thought back to what other supplies she had brought with her, hoping that perhaps something in her pack would be of some use, only to realize her pack had also been lost during the fight. Aria looked down to the kukri blade she still held in her hand. It was all that stood between life and death. None of Aria’s conventional weapons had had any effect on this beast. Its hide was just too tough. She didn’t have the strength necessary to cut it deep enough.

Aria leaned back against the cold stone surface of the boulder that had rendered her left arm useless. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. She readjusted her blade, switching from her usual reverse grip, to a traditional one.

“I’m gonna kill you, fucker.” Aria said as she pointed the tip of the blade at the approaching weir, doing her best to stare daggers at the creature. Looking into its eyes, Aria could swear she saw the damn thing grin back. Smug bastard, she thought. If only I had some kind of leverage. Then this stupid beast wouldn’t be grinning. I could force this damn blade into its ugly heart. Aria began looking around, desperate to formulate some kind of plan. Some weapon or strategy she could use against the thing. It was finally giving Aria the time to think. This was her chance.

“Ugh. Dammit!” She swore, as she loosened her death grip on her blade and let her arm fall to her side. “I just need….” Aria froze as her the pommel of her blade struck the boulder upon which she leaned. Hmm. Now there’s an idea, Aria thought as a maniacal grin spread across her face.

Aria strengthened her grip on her blade and she pulled the edge into the pouch still strapped to her thigh. Inside that pouch were two different oils. One meant to poison, the other to paralyze. Aria wasn’t sure what would happen if she mixed them, as she had never done it before. Everything she knew about the concoctions and herbology told her that they would still be effective. It won’t matter if all goes according to plan, she thinks to herself. The oils are only plan B. Let’s just pray plan A works. Not to mention the fact that the oils aren’t exactly fast acting. Either one of them took several minutes before the effects set in. Hopefully, this will all be over by then.

Aria stood, bracing herself for what was to come. She would need to be faster than ever before to pull this off. And luckier. But first, Aria must test her left arm. The only way this will work is if she can manage to goad the creature into pouncing. And she wasn’t sure how to do that and be able to react without the use of her left arm.

First, she wiggeled her fingers. Aria braced for pain yet there was none. Guess that painkiller is doing its job. Next Aria made a fist. It was weak, but doable. Now comes the real test. Aria knew that something in her arm was broken. Perhaps multiple somethings. But all it needed to do was reach the compartment at her chest. Aria braced herself for pain once again and attempted to move her arm. Slowly, the limb began to bend at the elbow. Her hand shook as she twisted her wrist and she became aware of an ache that radiated throughout the entire limb.

Seeing her arm move caused the weir to slow, still cautious of Aria’s tricks. Aria’s hand was able to reach into the same pocket as before, and from it she produced one of her acrid smoke pellets. A look of imperceptible recognition and then anger flashed through the creature’s eyes.

“That’s right you ugly bastard. You recognize this don’t you?” Aria grinned at her attacker. “Let’s see if you’d like another taste!” Aria feigned an attempt at throwing the pellet, as she knew her broken limb did not have the strength to do so. However the weir did not know that. The beast snarled and leapt at Aria, none too keen on letting her poison its eyes and nose again. And as the monster leapt to deliver the finishing blow Aria dove down and to the side, reaching up with her right hand and planting the pommel of her kukri blade squarely into the stone behind her. The weir’s claws sailed just a hair’s breadth from Aria’s skin and the force of the leap sent it plowing right into the blade Aria held. As the weir made contact with the blade, Aria ducked and rolled out from under the creature, landing in the dirt just a few paces from the weir. Aria had hoped that the monster would impale the blade through its own heart, killing it instantly. She was lucky enough to not be torn to ribbons as she ducked the weir’s last attack. It would seem, however, that she was not quite as lucky as she had hoped. The weir had managed to drive the blade rather deeply into its flesh, but it was only the shoulder, and not the heart.

The weir howled and roared as it thrashed from the pain of having its shoulder run through. The weir tore at the ground and stone. It howled and howled into the night. It tore at the hilt of the blade, desperate to remove the object of its torment. Several moments of pain induced hysteria gripped the creature, during which Aria lay on the ground, trying to crawl away and create distance. Her attempts were mostly in vain, as she clawed at the dirt with her one good arm. She kicked and scrambled, whatever it took to create distance. To buy time until either of the oils’ effects set in.

While Aria struggled in the dirt, the weir was at last able to remove the blade in its shoulder, and regain its senses. Blood stained the creature’s fur and spilt onto the ground as the pale white beast turned to Aria, fury in its eyes. The creature stood on its hind legs and howled into the night one final time. An ear piercing, blood curdling wail. Then it returned to all fours, and prowled through the night, closing the distance between itself and Aria.

The sound of the weir’s final howl had stopped Aria dead in her tracks. An all-consuming fear gripped her heart. Aria’s very soul turned dark. Her skin paled and her eyes grew wide with terror. As she looked up at the weir from her place in the dirt, all she saw was a figure of white death. She could already feel its sharp claws tearing her open. She could hear the sounds of her bones crunching in the beast’s putrid maw. She had no delusions of escape or of victory. She could have been naked for all it mattered to this harbinger of death. Aria had heard the stories of the white weir. And now, lying helpless before this unstoppable force of nature, she understood the true meaning of the word hopeless.

No longer did the weir’s eyes emite that of a grin. Aria had angered the beast. Angered it in such a way as it has never known. The weir no longer had any intentions of toying with Aria. The only thought that passed through the terrifying creature’s mind was pain. The pain this girl had caused it and the pain it intended to do unto her. What little distance Aria had managed to create between the two was no more. The white weir stood directly over its prey. Its face lowered to look Aria in the eye, just moments before it reared its massive claw back to eviscerate the helpless girl.

In that very moment, just as Aria saw death straddled over her, something very unexpected happened. One second all she could see was the white fur of the weir as it prepared to maul her flesh. Then, without warning and in a flurry of wind, the white death before her was gone. In a sudden explosion of air and dirt the weir was replaced with the head of a massive, ornate warhammer. Aria followed the hammer to the hands of its wielder. Then she followed those up to the wielder’s face.

“Are you alright, Aria?” The Chief asked, eyes cast ahead, focusing on the cloud of smoke that indicated where the weir had gone, some dozens of meters away. Aria could not speak. “Torren, Daran, with me. Larissa, stay and do what you can for Aria’s wounds.” The chief and the two other men he’d named spread out, encircling the now dissipating cloud of dirt.

Aria was stunned. She couldn’t believe her own eyes. She was so sure that she was dead. Not seconds ago. The sudden shock and realization that she would live hit her, along with all the emotions she’d been struggling with since her desperate fight with the weir. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. Aria shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to keep the tears at bay. She raised her one good arm up to her face, gritting her teeth and fighting back the urge to weep.

“It’s okay Aria. You’re safe now.” Larissa kneeled on the ground by Aria’s side as she spoke. “I’ll tend to your wounds now. You’re still in one piece, so you have nothing to worry about.” The older woman softened her eyes into a reassuring smile. “I’m sure my husband can handle one measly weir, don’t you?” And with that Larissa began treating Aria’s wounds. First cleaning them as best she could. As she did that, Aria chose to watch the fight, which had now resumed in full. The Chief swung his massive hammer, attempting to either crush the weirs skull or break its neck. The weir ducked beneath the blow and lashed out at the chief’s exposed stomach. Just before its claws could tear into the big man’s flesh, one of the other clansmen appeared from behind the Chief, crouched low and thrusting his blade at the monster. The weir redirected its claw, parrying the blade. At that exact moment, the third clansman appeared behind the weir, sporting a crazed grin as he brought his sword down with both hands. In response, the weir spun, almost too fast to even see, and swatted the blade away harmlessly. The weir had broken the man’s attack, which left him wide open. However, before the weir could take advantage of the opening, it was struck in the side by the Chief’s hammer, and again it was tossed to the side.

Aria was amazed. The teamwork displayed by the Chief and his fellow clansmen was remarkable. They didn’t speak. They didn’t even look at each other. Either each one knew exactly where and what the other was doing, or they each responded to the battle instantaneously. Either way, Aria was dumbfounded. Perhaps even more astonishing was the weir’s ability to hold its own against three such talented fighters. Aria could not believe she had successfully fended off the creature, let alone actually managing to wound it. No wonder my little gamble pissed it off so much, she thought. This thing has probably never been seriously wounded in its life.

Aria watched as the battle raged on. Several minutes of back and forth confrontations between the men and the beast had gone by. Everyone involved in the brawl had accumulated injuries. The Chief sported a nasty laceration across his chest. One of the other men looked as if he could barely grip his sword due to a deep crimson line along his forearm. And the third man, who still held a battle crazed look in his eyes, had endured the most damage. He was even missing an ear. Which Aria was fairly certain had been there at the start of the fight. Even so, the man looked like he was having the time of his life. Like there was nowhere he would rather be than staring down death itself. Even the weir was starting to bleed. Its once pristine, snow white coat of fur was stained red in places. There were many shallow cuts along its arms and back, however quite a few seemed to carve a little deeper. One of its arms didn’t seem to move quite right. Perhaps it had taken one too many hits from the Chief. The weir’s breath was haggard, even wheezy. Even from Aria’s vantage she could tell the monster was wearing down. Certainly my poisons have taken effect by now, Aria thought to herself. Even as Aria thought the words the creature swayed and shook its head, trying to stave off the effects of Aria’s final attack. Seeing the creature’s state, the crazed and bloodied man saw his chance and leapt forward, overflowing with confidence. “I’ve got you now you bastard!” Daran bellowed as he soared through the air with his weapon held above his head, intent on ending the fight with this single attack.

“Daran, NO!” the other man, Torren, shouted at his unyielding friend. Torren knew better. The weir’s strength might be waning, but a warrior never dropped his guard in battle. Torren’s voice was filled with desperation as he tried to dissuade his friend’s actions. However, it was too late.

No sooner had Daran’s feet left ground did the weir turn and face its attacker. Daran’s face contorted into a maniacal scowl. He believed he had won as he brought down his sword, intent on cleaving the monster in two. However the weir was not as exhausted as Daran had believed. The creature moved at speeds far beyond what any natural being could achieve. One second it was beneath Daran’s blade, moments away from being split in twain. Before Daran could even blink the monster moved, crouching low and springing forward, thrusting its clawed hand towards Daran’s chest. There was nothing anybody could do, but watch.

With a sickening crunch it was over. The others watched on as Daran had come to rest, mid-air, with the weir’s arm impaling him through-and-through, the beast’s blood soaked talon protruding from the man’s back. Daran’s eyes grew twice their size as he looked down at the arm sticking through him, and into the face of the creature that had just taken his life. The weir pulled its bloodied appendage back through the dead man’s chest, pools of blood erupting from the gaping wound. Aria watched as Daran’s body fell, almost impossibly slow. It was as if time itself had slowed. Some god high above wanted this single moment to last an eternity. The look of delight within the weir’s eyes. The horror and grief etched onto Torren’s visage. And the bloodstained arm of the white weir, in stark contrast to the otherwise pure white of the beast’s fur. As the man’s dead body reached the ground, the Chief struck. Without warning and with all the might he could bring to bare. The weir had been solely intent on Daran, flying through the air, that it didn’t even see the blow coming. The Chief had blasted into the air, with enough force to shake the leaves from the trees. He brought his hammer to bare and fell towards the beast like a meteor. The hammer struck the weir’s head full-on and with all the force the Chief had behind it. The weir’s head disappeared beneath the mighty warhammer, which, even with all that power behind it, still only came to rest on the monsters shoulders, refusing to penetrate any further. The weir’s body did not crumple. First it swayed, almost confused as to what to do next. The Chief pulled his hammer from the weir’s shoulders, releasing a torrent of dark blood. The Chief lowered the gore covered head of his warhammer and as he did so the white weir’s body toppled to the floor, headless.

Aria couldn’t believe it was over. She stared down at her feet as she sat, her back against one of the many trees of the forest. Her body radiated pain. The painkiller she had taken during her fight was slowly wearing off. Soon she would feel every stitch and every fracture. Something she was loathe to experience. I can’t believe I’m alive. Aria thought, as she examined her injuries, hastily stitched together by the Chief’s wife, Larissa.

“Ah! Dammit woman, easy with the needle!” Torren’s voice peeled Aria’s attention back to the here and now. She looked over to see Larissa tending to a particularly nasty looking wound that ran the length of his forearm.

“Oh shut it.” Larissa responded. “You’re lucky to still have use of this hand. I wouldn’t push that luck any further. We need to get this tended to quickly and effectively.” Torren winced once again at the woman’s touch. “Oh toughen up. Aria didn’t make so much as a peep when I was stitching her wounds.” At the mention of Aria’s name the man looked over Larissa’s shoulder, eyeing the spot in which Aria sat. “You’d better be thankful girl.” He said, speaking to Aria. “The Mother clearly has a soft spot for you. If not for Her, you’d be a bloody stain in the dirt.” Torren shifted his gaze to the lifeless remains of Daran. “What was he thinking? Damn fool.”

“Fool indeed.” The Chief agreed, standing just a few paces from where Larissa treated Torren, stroking his impressive braided beard. “There is no other word to describe his actions. Foolish beyond measure.” Torren’s eyes closed as he shook his head at the Chief’s words, saddened by not only the loss of his friend, but the embarrassing way it had happened. “However you, Aria.” The Chief turned to look Aria in the eye as he spoke. “You did well to survive the encounter. Not only to survive, but to wound the creature so deeply. Very few can say to have done either, let alone both.”

Aria wasn’t sure how she should feel about the Chief’s praise. Of course it was true, but was it really an accomplishment? To not die in a fight. Isn’t that what the standard should be? Aria may have survived, but it was only due to other’s actions. Aria looked over at the weir’s headless body. I can’t rely on anyone in this life. I must get stronger if I wish to protect Sota. What would have happened to him if I had died tonight? The thought brought Aria’s world crashing down around her. There was no other choice. She must get stronger.

The sound of running footsteps and hurried breathing drew Aria’s attention away from her thoughts. “Chief!” A blonde man, perhaps in his early 40s, called out as he neared. He was well built, no doubt in peak condition for his age, and yet he looked haggard. No doubt having run very far to deliver whatever information it was he brought.

“Hey Shin!” Torren called out. “Nice of you to show up after the fight’s all said and done.”

The middle-aged man looked confused for a moment, until he saw the lifeless corpses lying in a substantial pool of blood. “Is that…?” “What’s the report?” The Chief asked, not wanting the conversation to derail before he heard what the man had come here to say.

“Right. Sorry about that. From the looks of things the rest of the weir have been dealt with. There have been no other sightings since your team came in this direction.” Daran’s eyes shift from the Chief, to Daran’s dead body, and then to Aria.

“Good. We’ll stay on alert, but I am confident the danger has now passed.” At the Chief’s words Shin’s eyes shift once more to look the intimidating man in the eyes. “Ensure that all those who have been injured are cared for, and all those who have fallen are collected and sent to their families for last rights. I won’t leave a single clansman to be food to the beasts beyond the walls.” And with that Aria releases the tension she hadn’t realized she still held. It's finally over. She thinks to herself. Time for me to go home.

Not long after the Chief declared the danger over Aria found herself once again walking through the town center. It had taken quite a while to do so, since she was rather far from the gate and she hadn’t had the strength to scale the wall. Her distance from the gate coupled with her injuries made Aria’s trip much longer than she would have liked. Afterall, she wanted to get home as soon as she could to see Sota again. Something she sorely needed after the night’s events.

As Aria made her way through the town center she found herself surrounded by chaos. People streamed through the streets, left and right. Large tents had been pitched and light washed away the darkness. The light made Aria’s eyes hurt, reminding her that her sight enhancement Script was still active. After a few words her sight returned to normal, and her world was washed half dark and half light.

Inside the tents were men and women. Some lay on makeshift tables, in desperate need of medical attention. Others sat, having already been treated, and still others stood, doing their best to treat the wounded. The sight shocked Aria. There were dozens of injured. Most much the same as herself, but several were worse, and still others were far beyond any medicine.

The pained cries of the injured mixed with those learning of a lost loved one. Healers and families rushed from one place or another. The sight was all too familiar to Aria. The village faced such attacks perhaps once a month, maybe less. Aria remembered the last such attack. A horde of Arachas had flooded through the forest. The sheer volume of the monsters had been astonishing.

Aria shook herself out of her reverie, wishing to be home already. As she walked through the tumultuous crowd she learned that the night’s events had already claimed a dozen lives, with more certain to pass before all was said and done. Aria just kept walking. There were none here who cared to learn of her plight, and none whose story she particularly cared to hear. Except perhaps Deja’s. Aria thought for a moment or two, wondering if she should try to find her friend. As she looked around at the chaotic scene though, she decided against it. Deja has her hands full, I’m sure.

As Aria continued on her way through the village she heard more than one conversation spark up about her. Apparently word of her encounter with the white weir was spreading already. Somebody sure does have a big mouth. She thought, wondering who it had been that spoke about Aria’s ordeal. The only one’s who knew about it were those that had come to her rescue. One of whom was already deceased. I bet it was that twit Torren. Aria thought to herself. Although Larissa has been prone to gossip if she finds it interesting enough.

One after another the people would begin talking about her, many of which doubtful it was even true. And then there were those that didn’t doubt their source, but were certain it was due to some sort of trickery on Aria’s part. They were certain one as honorless as her couldn’t have possibly stood against the white weir without some underhanded ploy. I guess they’re not exactly wrong. Aria thought. I did stun the thing with my smoke pellet. Aria laughed to herself. What do I care what they think. I just want to be home already.

Aria made her way through the commotion of the village, trying her best to move as quickly as her wounds would allow. As she made her way east, away from the village center, a new uproar broke out among the villagers. Aria just had just begun to wonder what it was that had stirred up the villagers again, when she heard a man shout that a fire had broken out somewhere on the east edge of the village. Somewhere on the outskirts, near the east wall.

Wait a minute. Aria froze as the ice cold realization gripped her heart. The east edge, near the wall? Aria’s heart pounded in her chest. “Sota!” She screamed before breaking out into a sprint, ignoring her body’s protests.

No no no no no. Aria thinks as her feet pound at the hard packed dirt beneath her. Please let Sota be safe. She prays, sprinting as fast as she possibly can. Her stitches popping in places, pain radiating from every injury, ber busted arm flailing as she ran. A desperate fear settled within Aria’s mind.

By the time Aria arrives her home is fully engulfed in flames. Aria’s eyes widen in horror as she takes in the sight before her. A hungry blaze laps at the walls of her small house. Her storeroom an uncontrollable fire, fed by Aria’s years of collecting and storing herbs. The tiny ramshackle smokehouse was little more than blackened coals, the heart of which still released flames.

A crowd had formed around the edge of the inferno, yet no one made an attempt to fight the fire or put it out. Some carried pails, soaking the nearby grass and trees in an effort to keep the flames from spreading. Most just watched, mesmerized by the flames.

“Sota!” Aria yelled her brother’s name, desperate for a reply. “Has anybody seen my brother?” Aria made her way through the crowd, searching for her little brother. She stared at the onlookers, pleading. “Somebody, just tell me where my brother is!”

No one responds as they continue to stare off at the flames, some shake their head and close their eyes, assured of the worst. Some even turned to leave, showing no interest in what is taking place. What is it to them if Aria’s brother has perished in the fire? To them, it was simply nature correcting itself.

“Aria!" Deja’s voice rang out from behind the crowd. “Aria, what’s...Oh my god.” As Deja saw what had become of Aria’s home she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Deja! Have you seen Sota? Do you know where my brother is!?” Aria desperately clung to Deja’s arms, looking her friend in the eye with utter terror. “Deja!” Aria screamed at her friends unresponsive figure. Deja simply shook her head, a look of dreadful shock and sorrow breaking out across her face.

Aria turned to face the blazing inferno that once been her home. A cacophony of emotions boiling within her. Fear, hatred, sadness, to name but a few. Aria stared as her entire world burned in front of her. An all consuming pyre straight from the depths of hell itself.

“Dammit!” Aria screams, running toward her burning home. Deja yells after her friend, trying to stop her. A few villagers even move to stop her, yet they are too slow. Aria bursts through her home’s front door as a blazing heat surrounds her pained body. Moments after Aria’s impulsive entry into the flames she is obscured from the villager’s view as a wall of orange fire fills the gap left by the now missing door.

As Aria enters her burning home she screams for her brother, “Sota!” Tears stream from her eyes, her skin burning from the heat, and her lungs choking on the caustic smoke which fills the narrow entryway. Aria attempts to shield her face from the flames, leaving her arms exposed and vulnerable to the intense heat.

Aria moves as quickly as she can, walking through fire and smoke. “Sota!!” She screams, desperate to save her brother. The smoke is so thick that Aria can barely see around her as she moves through her home. After a few steps Aria’s foot catches something sprawled across the floor. Aria bends down, attempting to free herself of the thick smoke, only to discover the unmoving form of her brother. It seems that he had attempted to escape the fire, only to succumb the smoke and lack of oxygen.

Aria’s own lungs burn as she uses all her remaining strength and fortitude to lift her brother’s body. Her wounds from the fight with the weir fill Aria’s mind with pain. The heat from the fire sears Aria’s flesh as she attempts to carry her brother out the way she came. However, the way to the front door is barred by intense flames, making escape impossible.

Aria’s mind races as she thinks of another way out. Fire closes in all around and pieces of the thatch room rain fire and debris down from above. Every inch of the house’s walls and roof were ablaze, with the floorboards not far behind. Aria clung to her brother’s body, her blood being replaced by cold hard resolve. Aria eyed a spot in one of the walls. Large tongues of flames lap across its surface but Aria knows it is their only way. She takes several steps back, nearing the raging inferno which has crept across the floor. Getting so close as to cause her own clothes to ignite. Aria ignores the searing pain lancing up her legs as she bolts towards the wall. Aria thunders into the flimsy structure with all her might, throwing her shoulder into the wall.

Only through sheer force of will, and a large amount of luck, does Aria manage to break through the wall of the small shack that had once been her home. Aria comes crashing out of the inferno, slamming unceremoniously into the dirt. Not yet safe of the raging inferno only inches away, Aria drags her brother across the dirt and grass, pulling him away from the hungry flames, lapping at the edges of the hole she had just created. Deja sees Aria’s flaming figure come crashing out of the house and runs to her friend’s side. She helps Aria pull Sota to safety, and uses her hands to snuff out the flames which cling to Aria’s body. Satisfied that they were far enough away, Aria bends over her brother’s motionless body, unsure of whether or not he still lived.

“Sota!” Aria cries out, noticing her brother is no longer breathing. “You can’t leave me!” Tears stream down Aria’s cheeks.

Engulfed in pure panic and desperation, Aria begins attempting to resuscitate her brother, using every means she knew of. Again and again she attempts to breath life back into his lungs. Fearing her brother was gone for good, Aria succumbs to the pain and sorrow in her heart. As Aria lay across her brother’s body, in the full throes of her agony, a cackling screech of laughter rings out above it all.

There stands Belatrice, eying the pitiful sight before her with a look of utter disgust. She has traded her rather whorish outfit from earlier for one much more fitting a hunter. She wears a vest of animal pelt under which rest leather armor, her hair pulled tight across her head and tied in a knot.

“Well well!” She crows. “It would appear the trash has all but burnt up. Nothing left but ash, as it should be.” Bela stands only a few paces from Aria, and Sota’s lifeless body, looking at Aria down her nose with an expression of pure delight.

The words hit Aria like a hammer stroke to the heart and her eyes go wide with madness. “IT WAS YOU!” She screams as she leaps at the evil woman, her left hand grasping Bela’s throat as her right hand reaches for the Kukri at her hip. Bela’s eyes widen with shock, and then horror, as she realizes she is but moments from death. “I’LL KILL YOU!!” Aria bellows.

By now Aria has lost all reason. Madness and grief fills her mind, body, and soul. Just as Aria draws her blade and moves to plunge it into Bela’s chest, the hands of several villagers find purchase, grabbing onto Aria’s body and clothes. The villagers hold Aria in place, forcing her blade to a stop, only a hair’s breadth from its target. Just as tears pour down Bela’s face, weeping, eyes filled with terror, so too do tears streak Aria’s ash covered face. As weak as Aria’s injuries have made her left hand, it still has enough strength to choke the life out of the evil woman within its grasp.

“DIE!” Aria screams. “DIE! DIE! DIE!! DIE!!! DIE!!!!” The taste of blood rises to Aria’s lips as she screams, her throat cracking with the force of her bellows.

“That’s enough!” A booming voice and a powerful wind tore through the scene of chaos.

Aria’s feet left the dirt as she was torn away from the black hearted fiend she had been driven mad to kill. Aria’s body was sent flying through the air, landing with enough force to sap whatever strength she still possessed. Who… She thought weakly, searching for he whom wrenched Aria’s prey out of her grasp. As she looked, Aria noticed she was not the only one to be abruptly thrown to the ground. All who had been involved in the scuffle, including Bela, had been blasted to separate corners of the area. Not only that, but the raging inferno that had once been her home was now gone. Replaced instead with the charred remnants of what used to be.

Only a single man stood within a dozen paces of the blackened remains of the house and those lying in the dirt. The Chief. The realization killed whatever remained of Aria’s blazoned desire to kill Belatrice. At the mere sight of the man the hellfire that was her fury was replaced by smoldering embers. For no matter how much Aria wished to kill Belatrice, she knew power she could muster would be enough to get past the Chief.

The Chief stood amongst the former site of chaos, eyes narrowed, not a hint of emotion etched into his face. “What happened here.” He asks, chewing on each word before spitting it out. The sobbing sounds of Bela’s voice ring out as she sobs unintelligible words, crawling through the dirt with pleading eyes, crying to her father. “I said enough Belatrice.” He spoke, as if were a warning. “Warriors of this clan do not wail like infants.” Bela, obviously not getting the message, continued sobbing as she clawed at her father from the ground. “Silence, girl!” Another blast of air rocks Bela back several paces, depositing her squarely on her rear.

Not wanting Bela to have the chance to plead with her father, Aria spoke first. “It was her!” She shouted. “She was the one who did this!” Aria gestured desperately at the wreckage of her home. “She murdered my brother and burned down my home! Aria’s shouts mixed with the bitter emotion of saying out loud her worst nightmare. Her brother was dead. Using every bit of resolve under her control, Aria fought to stave off the torrent of tears she knew were just beneath the surface of her soul. Even so, she could not hold back every tear, as a single, solemn drop rolled down her cheek. “Belatrice did this.” She said, trying to force the truth upon the Chief.

“Is this true?” The Chief turns to ask his daughter, who had finally managed to stop her weeping.

“What does it matter!?” She screamed. “That horrible bitch just tried to murder me father!” Bela shrieked and choked, grasping her already bruising throat. It was clear from the sound of her voice just how much it pained Bela to speak, yet she would not let that stop her from getting her way. “Ask anyone here! She attacked me unprovoked, and even drew her weapon! If not for those here I would be dead! A blade through my heart!” Bela waved her arms maddenly through the air, before clutching her own pained throat.

“Unprovoked!?” Aria screams, “you MURDERED my brother! While he slept you set fire to my home! As I was out fighting…” Aria’s thought was left unfinished, as she saw the Chief raise his hand, indicating he’d heard enough.

“I understand.” He spoke with his eyes closed, voice still cold and distant. He turned to face his daughter, replacing his emotionless visage with one of pure disdain. Belatrice,” he said, such a way as to ensure his daughter knew the severity of her sins. “I have told you time and again that it was not your responsibility to deal with the Hashi. However, you have defied me, and defied the will of the Mother!” By now Bela’s face was contorted in terror.

“B-but father…” she began, standing and reaching for her father.

“You have stolen Aria’s honor! Honor which she will never be able to reclaim! As such, you too shall know how it feels to stand before your clansmen in dishonor.” By the time he finished his sentence, the Chief’s voice was low and menacing. Barely more than a whisper. The Chief’s hand reached out, and Bela flinched away, and just like that, with but a flick of his wrist, Bela’s clothes were torn asunder. So thoroughly as to not even leave a single strand still clutching the woman's body.

As the force washed over her, and as Bela realized what had just happened, she dropped to her knees and covered herself, screaming in anguish. “Stand up, daughter.” The Chief’s menacing voice reached out. “You will stand, naked and honorless, as you have done to Aria.” Bela remained hunched over on the ground, unwilling it move. “Do not make me tell you again, girl.” With the sound of the Chief’s unwavering voice, Belatrice stood, with tears streaming down her face, and with her arms clutched across her chest. “You are not permitted to cover yourself.” Bela’s arms slowly fell to her side, and a look of shame and embarrassment spread across her face. All those around averted their eyes, taking pity on her. “Now, go to the village square, kneel before the Mother, and bef for her forgiveness.” All Bela could manage was a slight nod, as she began her somber walk towards the village center.

As all of this unfolded, Aria looked on. A look of sheer shock plastered to her face. She wanted to feel pity for the girl, but she could not. It was this woman, and her alone, who murdered Sota. She killed Aria’s brother, for no other reason than pure malice. Whatever she suffers, it isn’t enough. It will never be enough. Aria thought to herself, as her gaze made its way to her brother’s still body. Seeing him there, so small, and so helpless, brought fresh tears to Aria’s eyes. She averted her gaze, unable to look at her brother’s corpse.

“Wait!” Deja shouted from Sota’s side. “He’s still breathing!” She shouted as she lay her ear against his chest. “Yes, I’m certain of it! Although…” Deja trailed off as a sorrowful look clouded her face. Aria lay on the ground, not but a few paces from her brother’s side. She dragged her body, broken and burned, over to his side, hope rekindling within her chest. As she bent low to to inspect his body, Aria confirmed it. He was alive. Sota was alive. His breaths were faint, labored and wheezing, and he was clearly in pain, yet still unconscious. But alive nonetheless. Whatever plagued his body growing up had clearly been made worse by the fire and smoke. Sota, please, just open your eyes. Aria pleaded, begging any deity that would listen.

“We must put the boy out of his misery. Once and for all.” The Chief’s voice rose from just above Aria.

“NO!” she screamed, throwing her body over her brother’s, desperate to protect him.

“Aria, the boy’s illness has spread. He lives, it is true, but he lives in agony. Every breath paining him.” Aria looked up to see an unusually soft look in the Chief’s eyes. A look Aria had not seen before. “Even so, he is alive! And I know Sota! He would want to live. Whatever the pain. Pain is nothing to our people!” Tears streaked down Aria’s face.

“But Aria, as a member of this clan…” The Chief started, before Aira cut him off.

“To hell with the clan!” she shouted. “What the hell has the clan ever done for me? For us!?” Aria fought back the sobs filling her chest, knowing that if she let even one out, she could not stop the rest. Aria looked down at her brother, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Our parents died for your stupid clan.” As she spoke, Aria’s hands gently caressed the side of Sota’s face. “I won’t let Sota die for you too.” Then Aria looked up from her brother’s face, clear determination written across her face. “I’m done with this goddamned clan!” she shouted. “I’m taking Sota, and I’m leaving! We are no longer part of your clan.” she finished, staring daggers into the Chief’s eyes. The crowd that still lingered grew uneasy, unsure of how the Chief would react. Aria continued to peer into the Chief’s eyes, letting all of her resolve wash over him.

And the Chief stared back. Icy slits letting no emotion escape. It was such a stark contrast to the softness that Aria had seen before, she wondered if it had ever been there to begin with.

“So be it.” The Chief said, after what seemed like a lifetime of silent staring. The crowd collectively looked taken aback, shocked by the turn of events. “You may take what belongings you still possess, and you may leave. But if you wish to do so it must be this very second. You will either leave this place now, or kill your brother and return your honor as a member of the clan.”

Aria sat stunned, but only for a moment, for she knew the Chief was serious. If she delayed a moment too long neither her nor her brother would live to see the sunrise. And so, Aria hefted her brother Sota, gritting through all her pains from the fire and fight with the white weir, and she began carrying Sota away. She locked eyes with Deja, trying to convey as much in the single look as humanly possible. Regret, admiration, gratitude, everything she felt when she looked into Deja’s eyes, possibly for the very last time. As Aria turned to carry Sota through the village, the crowd that stood before her parted like a wall of water, as Aria set out to leave her home, and her clan, behind.