The Hunter and the Prey

Zeit Lens pushed his way through the underbrush of the Awakened Forest, and all he could think about was how beautiful it was.

His compatriots fanned out beside him in five-foot chunks, 12 in total. All of them wore simple leather armor, swords at their sides, and crossbows on their back. The armor was intentionally patterned to blend in with the local foliage in shades of green, brown, and black. Eight wore bland deep green bandanas around their necks, while the other four – equally spaced throughout the formation – had colored bandanas instead, marking them as Mages.

Short but wide trees, with drooping branches created a labyrinth in this section of the forest. The leaves – more like vines – made it impossible to see more than six feet in front of them, and their constant shedding made roots underfoot difficult to spot. Zeit had already twisted his ankle once since entering, and he knew the others were no better.

Still, none of that took away from the beauty. The vines glittered with unnatural dew that seemed to reflect dozens of colors at once, casting them in a rainbow of lights from the moon above. The night sky peaked out in a mosaic against the cluttered trees, like a thatched basket full of plums. Lightning bugs illuminated their immediate surroundings, circling by the dozen around their heads in halos, and curious squirrels nibbled at the ground around their boots. Exotic plants and flowers sprouted from the base of the trees, from translucent celeste-blue roses to crystalline lilies that rested in what looked like puddles. Zeit knew they really stretched down to a lake beneath the surface of the earth, with depths unknown to the light.

That was a good sign, it meant they were close.

Finally, they emerged into a small clearing, not 10 feet in diameter. The grass was shorter than the surrounding area, but that wasn’t unnatural. Cracked and broken rocks scattered the area, remnants of a glacier from millennia ago.

A man to Zeit’s left – a Mage – with a face covered in scruff and a scar across one eye pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with his fingertip.

He took a long drag from it and looked at the area around them.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Zeit grunted in agreement and pulled his pack out to begin rummaging through.

“It really makes you think. How could Mother Nature create something so beautiful, so detailed?” He lifted a leaf from the ground – Ruthaar, he thought his name was – and began studying it.

“So many branches and paths, even within the leaf itself. And this leaf is only a portion of the greater whole; there are dozens upon dozens, hundreds upon hundreds more connected to even a single tree, each adding to the greater whole. The system in this single leaf is repeated in a thousand others, all combining to make another, larger system, which then connects to the forest as a whole…” he trailed off. After one last look, the leaf burst into flames and turned to dust almost instantly, falling to the grassy ground below.

“Oh well. Let’s get started.”

He stepped forward and held two hands up, both rapidly glowing with orange-red light. Heat came in waves from his palms, and Zeit cringed away from it, even several feet away.

“Wait!” one of the other men whisper shouted to Ruthaar, who shot him an annoyed look, but let the light in his palms die.

“Aren’t you worried about…” he looked both ways, apparently about to cross the road.

“…The Guardian? What if he comes?”

Ruthaar snorted and stamped on his cigarette once more in annoyance.

“So what if he comes? And don’t use that ‘title’ he’s been given. His name is Iago, and he’s a man just like us. He isn’t even a Mage. If he shows up,” familiar orange light gathered in his palms, “He’ll be finished quickly.”

Another Mage nodded in agreement – this one wearing a sky-blue bandana – “This is a quick job, and he can’t be everywhere at once. If he really is the Guardian of this forest, fine. The forest is vast, and he is one man. Like Ruthaar said – if he were a Mage, we might express more caution. As it is, though…” he shrugged. “You know what we can do.”

Ruthaar spat and gestured to the forest before him. “Now that we’ve made ourselves feel better, can we get on with it?”

Nobody told him otherwise, and the hunt began.

Globs of orange light were blindly flung into the forest in front of them, and where the orbs landed, the world erupted into light. Balls of compressed flame, almost liquid, landed amongst the bases of trees and imploded, sending hungry flames into the underbrush.

The effect was immediate. Wildlife began pouring away from the new fire, running straight through their clearing. While Ruthaar lay destruction and the mages prepared themselves, Zeit and the others took nets from their bags, and crouched for action. Squirrels and other animals ran past, but they had no eyes for them.

“There!” a man shouted and pointed, and Zeit’s eyes snapped to the location. From the underbrush emerged a small deer. It had brown fur and dark hooves, but the most striking characteristic were the antlers. They were green and twisted in patterns unnatural to a normal deer, and everywhere the beast ran, the world changed. Grass shone more verdant, flowers sprouted, and the wind gained a smell of freshly tilled soil. Its eyes were deep black, mixed with swirling mint green.

The sky-blue mage rose two hands, and the wind responded. Visible currents wrapped around the panicked deer, who bleated in alarm. Two men advanced immediately – one with a club, and the other with a net. One strike was all it took, and the unconscious deer was captured.

The men nodded to one another, and the nets were returned to their packs. Ruthaar continued raining hell upon the forest, grinning maniacally.

“Ruthaar, it’s time to leave. We’ve gotten one Awakened, lets go.”

“So early?” Ruthaar’s hands never stopped moving and firing, his eyes glowing slightly in response. “The animals are still coming, Jaren. One will shelter and feed us, perhaps pay some debts, but with two we will live like kings!”

“There’s no time, Ruthaar. It’s time to go.” Jaren walked forward and gripped his shoulder, trying to pull the man in the direction they needed to exit.

Bleating came from the captured deer – apparently more stunned than unconscious, and it began thrashing wildly on the ground. Its screams pierced Zeit’s ear, and he felt the fear so palpable in its voice that it became his own. His heart beat faster, sweat bead on his brow, and his breaths came quicker. His blood coursed through his veins in such visceral detail that he staggered a step, the alien sense of his own life being amplified catching him deeply off guard. A man struggled with it on the ground, trying to get it to calm down, but the effects appeared even worse the closer he was. His eyes focused and unfocused rapidly, and soon the deer was beginning to wriggle free.

“For fucks sake, just kill the thing! We get paid no more if it’s still squirming!” Another of the Mages yelled, with a yellow bandana. Someone pulled another club out.

Zeit looked away.

One strike with a sound like a brick hitting pavement, but the deer didn’t stop. Its screams intensified, the thrashing becoming more adrenaline filled.

Another strike, and the wails changed pitch. In one burst the grass behind it grew a foot in length, and moss suddenly coated a nearby tree.

“Please, just put it out of its misery!” Zeit found himself yelling, as his heart acted before his brain was consulted.

One more strike, and the only sound was the crackling of fire in the distance. Zeit’s heart still pound in his ears, but the men around him had faces of stone. He took in breaths with gulps.

“Come on.”

Ruthaar relented, bending over to pick up his pack.

A dagger embedded itself into his chest, piercing straight through the armor, and the impact sent his corpse flying a foot back before collapsing.

Zeit’s arms moved with instinct, and his crossbow was out, scanning the surrounding area. He spotted the other men doing the same. The three remaining Mages eyes glowed.

Another life was plucked from the earth from with a thrown dagger. A moment later a man was pulled into the underbrush, and a spray of blood was all the gods showed of his fate.

The yellow scarfed Mage blasted the area with a spray of acid. Hissing and popping came from where he was taken, eating into the trees and earth, but no screams followed.

A crossbow bolt was loosed into the darkness, but the thud never came. Zeit wiped sweat from his brow and desperately scanned the area.

“Show yourself, Iago!” Jaren shouted, conjuring a ball of compressed air in both hands.

One more fell in a spray of blood, then another, until soon it was only Zeit, Jaren, and the other Mage. His bandana was patterned brown, and the earth trembled around him as he rose his hands.

“That’s enough of that.” A crackling voice muttered to Zeit’s side, and a heavy rock cracked against the Mage’s head. The tremors stopped.

Zeit turned, crossbow first, to the source of the sound, but he saw nothing, heard no one. From the opposite side of the clearing, a man walked into view.

He had darker skin that Zeit always attributed to the southern natives, and he walked with the gait of a predator. His clothing was made up of tattered brown trousers with a similar shirt. A breast pocket hung open and empty; the button long lost to time. He wore no shoes, and yet his feet had no cuts nor bruises that Zeit would have expected from the at times unforgiving forest floor.

One arm was extended out, and he held a long blade, spattered with blood. It was sharp on only one edge, with a hilt wrapped in dark cloth. A grey pattern like bark crept across the blade itself. His head was bald, and his beard was unkempt.

Iago, the Guardian.

The crossbow trembled in Zeit’s hands, but his finger never pressed the trigger. His muscles wouldn’t respond, and his heart hung heavy. Though the effect was gone, he could still feel the ghost of his living blood pulsing through his veins.

“There you are- “The orbs of wind blasted towards Iago in two different arcs. The first he ducked, and the second he swatted with the back end of his blade, sending it careening into the underbrush. An explosion of air shot dirt and leaves outward with a sound like the loudest balloon of all time popping, but neither Iago nor Jaren flinched.

“Goodbye.”

With fury in his eyes, Jaren began wrapping himself in bands of protective wind, while more wind orbs formed around him.

“Your tricks don’t frighten me, Iago. You are no Mage; you are a pretend-“

One moment, he stood perfectly still. The next, the tip of his blade gently entered the front of Jaren’s neck and exited out the back.

As his body crumpled, Zeit finally got a good look at the man’s eyes.

They were not the eyes of a man. They were yellow, spattered with cosmic purple and slitted. The eyes of a cat.

Iago sagged like a weight came off his shoulders, and he wandered to the brown bandana Mages body. He knelt, grabbed the head in both hands, and twisted it to one side. One snapping sound later, and the head lay turned to an unnatural angle.

“Why…” Zeit stammered, “Why am I still alive?”

Iago didn’t spare a glance in his direction as he began ruffling through the pockets of his comrades.

“You looked away.”

He rolled the Mage over to get into his pants back pockets, pulled a ration of jerky, sniffed it, and tore off a bite. He nodded in appreciation.

“They said you weren’t a mage.” It was a statement, not a question, but Iago responded anyway.

“I’m not.” Iago opened a man’s wallet, dumped the contents into his hand, and tossed a family photo into the dirt. “They are correct. But, they are dead.” His words came staggered and unsteady, each landing with the certainty of an avalanche down a mountain.

He chuckled to a nonexistent joke and took another bite of jerky.

Hope bubbled in Zeit’s chest. “Does this mean…I can live?”

“No.”

His hopes came crashing down, and his finger found the trigger of the crossbow.

“But…you said I looked away?”

Iago nodded. “You did. I decided I would kill you last.”

His finger trembled on the trigger. Iago’s back was turned to him, it would only take one shot…

A rock the size of his head landed on the crossbow, crushing his hands. Splinters dug into his skin, slicing it open in a dozen places. The string of the crossbow was suddenly loosed, and only dumb luck saved him from being severely injured, if not outright decapitated. Warm blood stuck to his skin, cracked bones screaming beneath the surface.

He shot his look upwards, only to see some sort of ape swinging away through the vines.

Panicked, he looked back to Iago. He had not moved.

“Wouldn’t it be better to leave one of us alive? I could spread the word. That this forest is off limits, that is.” It was a gamble, but it was the best idea his stress addled brain could conjure.

Iago cocked his head but did not look at him. “If it is about sending a message, I would rather leave no survivors. Then, they know the Forest will be the last place they ever go.” He said the word Forest with a sense of reverence, the same tone Priests speak of the gods.

“You would die, then? For the Forest?” His only chance was to keep him talking. Perhaps he would change his mind.

Finally, Iago’s eyes met his own. The irises entered his soul, and he felt very exposed, despite his armored exterior. His vulnerabilities laid bare.

“Why do you hunt these creatures?” His eyes met the caved in skull of the deer and lit in brief fury. Quickly, the flame was doused, and regret reigned supreme.

“I…” Why did he do this? It made good money. Better than working in a mine, or the military. He had no trade, and he was no Mage. His options were few, and none pleasant.

“I need the money. To survive. My other options are limited, and few as lucrative exist, to a man like me.”

Iago nodded like he expected the answer all along.

“You must justify why you do the things you do. Why you commit the horrors you do. That is natural. We all must. Find something that gives us purpose,” He gave one last look to the deer, and met Zeit’s eyes once more. The wind passed, and Zeit felt a chill.

“The Forest gives me purpose. The Beasts give me purpose.” A hardness entered his eyes that hadn’t been present before, and he inexorably knew his final moments were near.

“If it is about death, I will kill for the Forest.

If it is about death, I will die for the Beasts.”

Zeit nodded, though he didn’t understand. Not fully. He closed his eyes.

He didn’t feel it when the sword passed through his neck, when his body hit the ground, his head hitting a moment later, nor when his body was looted. He didn’t see what put out the fires, or the way the corpses were pulled beneath the soil by some unseen force.

He didn’t hear Iago’s words as he was hunched over the deer, nor did he see the stains left upon the beasts fur from his tears.

His soul trembled once as it drifted, and then peace was all he knew.