She knocked several times on the door as politely as she could. Although it was by no means normal, that day Sarah was up shortly after the break of dawn. It was surprising to see so many people up and about so early in the morning, and especially to think that most of them didn’t know who she was. Of course, they knew that she was a stranger, but they didn’t know her title or her heritage, and that was unusual for her. When no one answered the door, she wondered if Tyr was still asleep, but the sound of crackling fire had brought her around to the back of the house to check if everything was alright.

A wave of flames flashed upwards through the chilled morning air. At the tail end of the fire trail was none other than Tyr, dressed in a casual green tunic with matching trousers. He cut through the air at invisible enemies, felling one after another until there were none left.

“Excuse me,” she called gently, hoping she wouldn’t startle him.

Tyr turned around as though he had never been doing anything else. “Ahhh, Sarah. Good morning.” Noticing the blue object in her arms, the hunter smiled. “And you brought my helmet back. How very kind.” The way he smiled, with that half smirk, left no doubt it her mind that he’d planned the whole thing.

“You’re quite welcome. It was on my bed.” She was dressed far more simply today, in a white blouse and a black skirt. Both were far nicer than anything she’d seen in the village; she had underestimated how simple Nifila would be. As Tyr took the helmet, Sarah felt she had to say something. “So, do you always practice alone in the mornings?”

“I’m afraid so,” he said with a shrug, “It’s not like we have an arena.”

They stood together in silence, neither quite looking into the other’s eyes.

“Your outfit is nice.”

“You noticed?”

“It’s hard not to.” Another long moment, but it was in this moment of prolonged silence that someone knocked very loudly at the front door of Tyr’s house. A familiar voice called out. “Tyr? Master Hunter Tyr? Are you home?” It was Natalie, and both the adults were glad to have something else for their minds to focus on.

“I’m back here, little Natalie.” Though he hadn’t needed to, Tyr raised his voice to nearly a shout. Sarah stepped back from him, not wanting to fan the flames of gossip, even if it was just Natalie. The girl came rushing around with her stick and a smile. “Good morning, Natalie. I see you convinced your parents quickly, eh?”

Proudly, she held her stick high. “I did. When do we begin?”

“In a moment,” Tyr said as he turned back to Sarah. Natalie squirmed; she hadn’t even noticed Sarah was there. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Sarah took a moment. “If… it’s alright, may I stay here and watch? I am rather curious about hunting."

“Of course.” The smirk returned, and Sarah wondered just how much Tyr had planned of this little encounter. “Natalie, stand right over here, and stay perfectly still. Do you understand?” The little girl jumped into action, standing a little too still. Tyr was impressed. “Very good, but you should breathe. Now, hold up your weapon, and stay just like that. No matter what.”

Though the last phrase was more than a bit disturbing to both women, neither said anything as Natalie raised her wooden “blade.” The hunter drew his katana again, and the contact of oxygen against the edge made it glow red. “This long sword was specially crafted in a far-off land, or so I’ve been told. Its base is Rathalos materials, and the spikes that act as the guard are unlike every other weapon in my possession, although the blade is what makes it truly unique. The blade is mostly ice crystal, but it’s lined with firestone so, as you swing the blade, the movement heats it to a point that the firestone lining bursts.” He drew it through the air in a sudden swipe and flames erupted. Natalie stayed still, but Sarah jumped slightly.

“I’m going to come straight for you, Natalie.” Tyr turned to face her and, for just a moment, the little girl shivered. He dashed forward and swung. The red line of fire cleaved through the stick like it wasn’t even there. And as the top end leapt upwards, both pieces immolated for a moment and Natalie fell backwards in fright.

Sarah was anything but pleased. “Tyr, was that entirely necessary?”

He nodded without looking at her, focusing on the wide-eyed girl below him. “I’m the least terrifying thing in the world, besides maybe a Kelbi. If you can’t stand your ground against me, you’ll never be able to survive out there.” Tyr stared down at the slowly comprehending Natalie. “You did well, Natalie.” Tyr lifted the girl easily with a single hand and smiled. “Most run away when I try that trick, even some who’re already hunters.” This made Natalie smile even more broadly.

“You mean it?” She quickly picked up the two halves of her stick and held them tightly. The flames had gone out, but the singed ends were still smoking lightly.

“Of course I do. Now, what style of weapon do you use?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie admitted. “I thought that maybe you would know.”

“Although I’d love that kind of skill, I’m afraid my current armor doesn’t give that one.” He looked back at his house, as if it was about to make him a deal. “Hold on.” After holding up a single finger, Tyr traveled inside with his helmet and blade.

Natalie wasted no time. “New Girl In Town?” Natalie asked, bolder in the face of someone she barely knew. “How is it that you know Master Hunter Tyr?”

“We met yesterday when he saved my friends and me from a terrible wyvern.” She spoke slowly, as if it were some distant memory she was trying to recall. “He showed me around Nifila, and that is where we met you. Why is it that you ask?”

“My mother thought you might’ve been his sister, or his woman.” Although her words were far beyond her years, Natalie spoke them without a speck of hesitancy.

Sarah flushed at the thought. The rumor had already sprung, as the Village Chief said it might. “No, no. I’m nothing of the sort.” The red slipped away as she regained herself. “And I’d appreciate it if you and your mother would let others know that.”

Silence fell. Both of them were unsure of what else to say. Natalie, though talkative, was impatient for Tyr’s return, and Sarah was far too wrapped up in her own thoughts to come up with anything else to say to a girl like Natalie. So, they stood reticent until the hunter emerged, carrying a large red sack and a small grey one. He sat the larger one next to Natalie, and handed her the smaller one.

“It’s… full of zenny!” the girl shouted in surprise, staring at the small bag intently. Sarah was equally shocked, though she hid it better. His plans were impossible to discern, but he had that smirk again.

“Indeed it is, and this bag is full of materials,” Tyr told her, crouching down to meet her eyes. “Take these to Elik, the smith, and tell him that I require bone weapons fit for a Felyne friend of mine. A large Felyne though, right about your size. Understood?”

With a smile, and before another word could be said, Natalie ran off, dragging the heavy bag behind her. The adults watched her, one of them grinning, and the other still in some degree of shock. Tyr clapped his hands. “I believe that’ll buy us a few hours. Would you care to take her place?”

The princess imagined this was the sort of thing she’d have to get used to if she was to spend any more time around him. The thought crossed her mind while another escaped her mouth before she could think it through. “Me? But, why me?”

“You said you had an interest, didn’t you?” Tyr shrugged as if disinterested himself. “If you don’t want to though, I understand.”

“Well, it’s just that… am I properly dressed for that sort of thing?” She asked in earnest, but Tyr couldn’t help but start to laugh. Despite her confusion and displeasure at being laughed at, Sarah stayed quiet while he went on. Soon enough, the hunter quieted and shook his head, wiping a small tear from his eye.

“I’m afraid your upbringing is showing. Have you never seen a hunter before?”

“Of course I have,” she snapped, and the smile left Tyr’s face at once. “But they don’t go out dressed like this.”

“I see. I’m very sorry. You can dress however you want to to practice hunting. Hunting armor comes in all shapes and sizes, just like hunting weapons and hunters themselves.” He placed his hands together in front of himself and bowed. Is there anything that I can do to make it up to you?” Though bowed, Tyr stared up at her so directly and his words were so sincere that Sarah forgot why she was mad for a moment. But her anger returned a second later.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to think of something on your own, Tyr.”

“Oh? Well, I’m certainly not wealthy enough to give you anything you couldn’t afford. And I need you to forgive me in order to let me give you lessons. So, I suppose a kiss is the only option.” With that same smirk, he stepped towards her.

The princess stepped back, blushing furiously. “Why, Hunter. Er, Hero. I mean T-Tyr. You can’t simply - it’s not proper for you to -“ Tyr took her hand amidst her protestations, raised it to his lips, and lightly kissed the back of it. Sarah felt even more embarrassed. Even if she’d had a clear-enough mind to want to be mad at him, she hadn’t the willpower to be riled up any longer. “You’re...” she paused and tried to regain herself, but failed almost entirely. “Forgiven, Tyr.”

Tyr was grinning as he turned around and headed back into his little training area. “If you decide you do want to train with me then, by all means, just step in. Otherwise, you’ll have to forgive me, I have to do this now or it’ll never get done.” As he walked, Tyr’s arms swayed through the air and each step became precise and direct. It was as though he were moving through clouds, pushing them out of the way slowly in order to advance.

This was Chakration. It was a series of unarmed techniques developed over time to assist combat against monstrous foes as opposed to human ones. Because of the massive difference in both monsters and terrain found in different regions of the world, there were literally thousands of moves that hunters could learn. It was by no means effective for hunting wyverns straight out, but it had increased the survival rate of practicing hunters significantly, although at the painfully slow speed which Tyr was practicing, it was hard to imagine it did any good at all.

Sarah, the crimson finally out of her cheeks, raised her gaze to include his face and watched him only when she noticed he had his eyes closed. She’d seen other styles before, since some hunters would occasionally demonstrate to entertain her family, but several of the moves he went through were vastly different than what she’d encountered before. Though she tried, she couldn’t even begin to make out which of the creatures Tyr had described would require the movements he made. The way he moved though, so slow and deliberate, was fascinating. She’d only ever seen Chakration done quickly.

“Excuse me, Tyr.”

“Yes?”

“Is it too late to take you up on that offer?”

“Not at all.” He waited for her to step into the circle before speaking. “What would you like to go over first? There’s weapon-specific training, movement exercises, even basic hunting trivia. Some of it has much less entertainment value, depending on your personality. But all of it,” here he paused for emphasis, “is crucial to survive out there.”

Sarah decided that it would be best to do something engaging, since the trivia could always be worked in later. “I’d like to start with those movement exercises.” Though she would’ve liked to try a weapon, she feared that her lack of physical prowess would only make for an embarrassing attempt at best.

“Alright. Movement it is. And, based on your outfit, no rolling, no flips. We’ll practice footwork then.” Sarah was glad that he was being such a gentleman. Doing flips in a skirt would’ve been far worse than not being able to lift a greatsword or a bowgun. “I want you to try to mimic whatever my feet do, alright? Same foot, same direction.”

“Sort of like a dance?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t another laughable question to him.

He only smiled. “It’s exactly like a dance.”

One step after the next, he taught her how to creep, to leap, to circle without leaving your side or back open at any point, and he never stopped when she got something wrong. When she did make a mistake, Sarah would flush, and Tyr would step again. Often, he would circle back and repeat something she’d messed up on before, but he never said a word aloud to her. All the while, Sarah watched his feet and tried to memorize each set of movements. All the while, Tyr smiled as he watched her eyes. They were at it for nearly an hour and a half before he stopped, mid-step and spoke again.

“You’re a good dancer, aren’t you?”

Both awkwardly poised on one foot, and she caught off-guard by his comment, Sarah wavered and set her foot down before answering. “Well, yes. I am. I had to be growing up where and how I did.” She eyed him curiously. “I imagine you deduced this from my comment earlier, yes?”

“I suppose that had something to do with it. But I was more clued by the way your body moved in response to your feet. You sway in a very controlled way when you move.” Her blush returned in full force. When she opened her mouth to speak, Tyr shook his head and cut her off. “Don’t bother apologizing. It’s not a bad thing to do during practice, yet.”

“Yet?” Her voice was small, and her face was still a healthy shade of pink. “That means it will be one at some point, yes?”

Tyr shook his head. “A lot of people might tell you so, but I see no reason why a fight can’t be a dance, just as long as you don’t get yourself killed because of it. Things like that only become problems if they affect your performance in battle.”

“So long as you approve.” She curtsied, ever so slightly. “Shall we continue? Or is there something else that…” The princess noted that Tyr was still on one foot and she found her curiosity overriding her upbringing yet again. “Is there some reason you’re standing like that, Tyr?”

Looking down, Tyr almost seemed confused at why his left foot was hovering a few inches above the ground. “Hmmm… it is odd, isn’t it?” He rotated his ankle slowly, as if moving it carefully around some invisible spearhead. “I suppose you wouldn’t accept that I just forgot about it?”

Sarah crossed her arms.

“It’s a hunting technique. To put it simply, the majority of weapons are either quick, light, and their wielders have to keep in constant motion to maximize the potential of their weapon, or they’re slow, powerful, and don’t allow any time for slowing further or stopping because the weight of their weapons means that any pause means either death or a loss of combat advantage.” Once more, he slowly rotated his foot. “But a longsword lies somewhere between, and its wielder must carefully time each strike, must pause and assess the situation after each slice or evasive technique in order to make sure he or she isn’t going to regret swinging again, or dodging when there’s time to strike. I’m… oversimplifying, a bit, since all hunters need that kind of knowledge, but I’ve found longsword users need it most.”

“And in what way does that transfer to you standing there on one foot, precisely?”

“I’m afraid I’ve taken the art of the longsword to a bit of an extreme. I’ve taught myself to pause during movements as well, simply to make sure that I can take full advantage of any given situation. Therefore, I have to be able to stand like this, or in even-more-uncomfortable positions, without losing my balance. It’s taken years to get to this point.” He smirked as he finally set his foot down. “In other words, I’m an excellent dancer as well.”

Everything about him, besides the laughing at her expense, had impressed her. She was more than accustomed to honor, respect, and especially politeness, but he gave them a different flavor. It was enchanting, and she found herself staring at him, which she knew she shouldn’t do, and so she looked back down to his feet.

Tyr stepped forward first, and she mimicked him without thinking, her feet so used to following that she simply did so. The gap between them closed, step by step, until they were merely a foot from each other. Though the village was bustling with activity elsewhere, the air around the two was still, and when Sarah finally looked up, she forgot to breathe for a moment. Tyr smiled and took her hand. “May I have this dance?”

She was both crestfallen and relieved. In her mind, the previous moment had played out a hundred different ways and her heart raced at most of them, but this hadn’t been one. It was for the best though. It couldn’t have been any other way. Not wanting to offend or refuse him, she consented and held up her other hand, naturally assuming they would be dancing in the manner she’d learned for years. This was not the case, however, as Tyr lowered her arm back to her side.

“I’m going to teach you how to dance like we do. You are, after all, in Nifila now. So, just like before.” He held her hand gently in his and they circled each other, his eyes on her eyes, hers on his feet. It was a simple enough dance to begin with, dips and cross-steps which the princess was all too familiar with, but the pace picked up quickly, and the movements became complex. Feet not just crossing feet but shins, knees. Backwards. Forwards. Twirl. Reverse. Turn, turn, kick, turn. Though she tried her best, Sarah could feel herself losing her footing, and at a certain point she could barely track his steps, much less move her own correctly. But he didn’t go back, didn’t repeat like before, just kept going and going. All at once, and just before Sarah truly lost it, Tyr stopped and bowed to her, not even a bead of sweat across his brow. “And that was ‘Nevvy’s Word.’ Enjoy it?”

Sarah took a moment to catch her breath. “Had I been able to keep up I might’ve. Can you not slow down so that I may learn at a reasonable rate?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid no one learns it that way. You pick it up after failing a few dozen times; it’s a lot like talking to Nevvy herself.”

Although it was a bit frustrating, she accepted that small defeat and checked around. “How much longer do you imagine Natalie will be?”

Tyr glanced at the sky to check the position of Sol, the planet’s only star. “Hmm… I’m not sure, another few minutes, an hour, perhaps? I haven’t been keeping track, honestly. Nor did I know exactly how long it would be in the first place. Why, is her return that important to you?”

Even if she’d said yes, Sarah wouldn’t have had the nerve to explain her reasoning why. So, instead, she shook her head quietly. The silence that followed was unsettling. It tied Sarah’s stomach in the same knots she’d felt last night. But, just as she was about to speak, there came a new voice from the front of the house.

“Tyr! You here?” The voice was strong and masculine with a rough edge, like pine bark against the skin.

“I’m in the back with a guest. Come around.” With a shake of his head, Tyr flashed Sarah a smile. “It seems I’m popular today.”

The man who came around the house was intensely tanned, and wore armor made mostly of Basarios materials, with several hunks of Gravios shell worked in to give the armor more spikes that Sarah thought was entirely necessary. He had short black hair and was built like a Great Jagras that had just swallowed an Aptonoth, or maybe he’d swallowed one instead. Preceding him was a distinct aura of importance. “Aha! Here you are, there’s an Apceros eating some of the crops.”

“And the city guard is powerless against such a beast?”

“Village Chief told me that you know the woman who owns the beast.”

“Indeed I do, and she’s right here.” With a small step and a hand wave, he showed the large man his companion. A jaw dropped momentarily, but was quickly snapped shut in the face of duty.

“Oh, well.” His sudden speechlessness did not fail to draw out a polite nod from Sarah. She was used to people thinking they needed her permission to speak. Upon speaking again, a noticeable edge of unease appeared in the larger man’s voice. “If you would accompany me then, New Woman In Town, I’d like your help in moving the beast. That way we do not harm it.”

“I would be glad to assist you.” Turning her head, she looked back to Tyr with a small smile. “When I am done, I’ll return for more of my training. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

“Then, lead on, …?”

Straightening up a bit more, the guard announced as formally as he could. “I’m Captain of the City Guard.”

“And I’m Good Dancer. Now, before too much is eaten, shall we go?”

“Yes!” Without a moment’s delay, Joshua turned and began walking off stiffly. Sarah giggled to herself and started off after him as quickly as she could manage. Behind them, Tyr watched and smiled, enjoying the sight of his long-time friend and professional guardsman practically running away from an unimposing young woman.

The seconds of silence that followed seemed to lengthen into hours as the two disappeared from sight. Even knowing what to do with his time, the disappointment at his sudden lack of company was all too apparent on Tyr’s face. He let out a sigh and began practicing his Chakration once more. It wasn’t long, however, before a little girl with a smile as broad as a Gobul’s dragged a large bag of assorted weaponry into the training area and interrupted his practice.

“Master Tyr!” Natalie called to him. She had waited outside the smithy the whole time, even though she hadn’t needed to. Each second of that time had only made her more impatient, and the only reason she’d stayed after the first weapon was completed was because she knew that all of the new weapons would be hers. No more sticks, no more stones, no more pretending. She was really going to be a hunter now. “I’m back!”

As her excited shouts reached his ears, Tyr turned around with a mockingly stern face. “Welcome back, Natalie. I’m glad to see you returned so quickly, but you forgot my name.”

Her chest heaving from having run all the way back with the bag full of weapons, Natalie bowed her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Tyr. I was just so excited to get to start my training.”

“You’re forgiven. Do you need a moment, or should we start your training now?”

Somehow, the smile that had been fixed on the little girl’s face before was outdone by the newest one to spread across it. She started pulling weapons out of the red bag and placing them on the ground. Once she had the full array set out, she smiled up at her master and waited. Several moments passed without a word between them.

“Yes?” Tyr asked.

“I…” She paused, looking at the row of weapons forged just for her. “I thought that you would pick which one I was going to use first.” This pulled another chuckle from the hunter.

“Natalie, I told you that I can’t do that. You have to choose the weapon that feels right to you.”

It took her a few moments, but Natalie finally picked up one of her bone weapons. It was a blade nearly a match for her in height, but not nearly so in width, just like the ones she knew her master used in combat. She gripped the bone longsword in both hands in an attempt to keep it steady. “It’s a lot heavier than just a stick.”

“That it is. Don’t worry though, you’ll get used to it soon enough.” Her confidence meter leapt up again at those words, and she squeezed the handle just a bit tighter. “Now, you stay here, and I’ll be back with my own weapon.”

As Tyr left her alone, Natalie experimented with a few swings. The sword easily pulled her weight a bit from side to side. She couldn’t imagine how much the greatsword would pull her if the longsword was already doing this much. Before she had the chance to speculate on all of the different weapon types, Tyr came back with a new Katana, one much more simplistic than the blade he’d been training with earlier. It was, in fact, a Hardbone Katana, a blade similar to Natalie’s, but with far stronger materials for even more strength and sharpness.

“Alright, we sh-“

“Tyr! Tyr! Come quickly!” a panicked voice shouted as fists pounded against his door.

“Natalie, practice carefully, or go home.” His voice left no room for argument because he had no time to waste. “That’s a real blade, not a stick.” More shouts and another few poundings to his door only increased the speed and severity of Tyr’s instructions. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Do not hurt yourself.”

Natalie couldn’t have objected if she wanted to, because by the time she’d come to terms with her disappointment, Tyr was already gone. She sighed, looking down at her array of weapons with a newfound sadness at their presence. The blade in her hands fell as the strength of her grip lessened, but she didn’t let the hilt slip away.

Out front, a man nearly half Tyr’s height and with desperate panic coursing through his voice explained, “The herd is being attacked by Vharalyn. I need help!” Some small part of Tyr wished the villagers would run to the Guild Hall to shout these sorts of things. But, of course, the larger part of him wouldn’t have let them.

Tyr clapped Enzo on the shoulder. “I’ll get to them. Where are they?”

“Towards the swamp!” Tears were forming in Enzo’s eyes, and Tyr was reminded why he liked being summoned at a moment’s notice. These were people who truly needed him. “Please, go quickly.”

Tyr barely heard the last two words; he was already inside throwing on pieces of azure armor. He shoved his feet and hands into boots and gauntlets, his torso into a spiked chestpiece and tasset, and plucked his helmet off his bed before grabbing the nearest sheathed katana and dashing outside. He didn’t double-check with anyone. He simply ran straight towards the smaller, northern gate and shouted “Open it!” the moment he could be heard by the watchmen. The gate opened, because everyone knew that if the Nifilan Guardian wanted through, he was going through, one way or another.

The gate opened just enough by the time Tyr reached it for him to dive and roll through the opening. Without missing a beat, he sprang back to his feet and kept running at a full sprint. It took less than a minute before he heard the Aptonoth herd bleating, but even at that speed it took a quarter of an hour, to reach the herd. It was almost too late.

In a small clearing where the herd had been grazing were now-dead bodies and deadly beasts. Blood and entrails were splattered across the flattened grass and several Vharalyn were tearing apart one of the herd’s largest females. Their fangs and claws, nearly as sharp as Tyr’s blade, ripped through flesh like it was paper. Deep crimson splotched their sleek, tanned bodies, as well as the line of serrated spines that protruded out of the predators’ backs. The felled Aptonoth’s body was surrounded by the carcasses of two younglings; both had already been devoured. The thundering of hoofs signaled the return of the main herd as they came running back towards the inevitable trap. Tyr would’ve been relieved the Vharalyn were eating, since they didn’t always hunt for food, but he didn’t have time to think, only to react.

He drew his sword and hurled himself forward. The sharp edge of a katana coated in the venomous extract of rath wyvern spikes tore through the air and cut deep into the side of one of the predators before she had time to react. Her partners leapt away and began circling Tyr. They knew their duty, and this hunter was in their way. Injured, but still able to fight, the third Vharalyn joined her companions.

Two charged him while the third moved to flank, but Tyr was no simple-minded herbivore. He lunged directly at the healthiest beast and, as she leapt, he ducked and raised his sword in an upwards arc. The blade hit, but only enough to knick the thick hide. He rolled forwards, just out of the reach of the second direct attack. The fighters regained their footing. Behind him, Tyr could feel the earth-shaking footsteps of nearly fifty Aptonoth and knew that at least another pair of Vharalyn would be chasing them. He had only a minute to take care of these three before he would be hopelessly outnumbered.

Pain and festering poison driving her, the injured Vharalyn charged forward. As she leapt into the air for her assault, she curled her body into a ball and spun. The razor-like spines on her back turned her into a deadly, slicing projectile. Tyr grinned beneath is helmet, sidestepped, and then swung his giant blade like a bat. Instead of knocking the beast back, whetted Dragonite ore met flesh, and cleaved through. Almost. His blade stuck just before piercing through the other side, and the weight of the dead beast brought him to the ground. A second Vharalyn pounced.

Tyr hit the ground hard and rolled along with the second fanged beast. Her claws dug tightly into his armor, not having fully punctured it yet. She viciously snapped at his helmet and her companion came charging in to assist. With as much force as he could muster, Tyr pulled his legs back and kicked violently into his attacker’s chest. It wasn’t enough to truly damage, but just enough to make her let go in a flinch. Taking full advantage of that moment, Tyr kicked again, sending the first Vharalyn off, but the second leapt at the same moment.

I hate these things, he thought as he rolled towards the beast to get beneath its lunge. He kept his longsword close to his body, never having let go of the hilt. To let go meant death, and so did staying down. As soon as he had the space he twisted his body onto his knees, and then to his feet in a rising slash that connected with nothing but air. Tyr spun around to find his foes, his blade whirling in a high arc to keep any would-be attackers from finding their mark. He saw the herd only a few dozen meters away, and the Vharalyn even closer, both of them charging at him again.

Instead of dodging, he sheathed his sword and ran back towards the herd. He focused his internal energy, his chakra, into the palms of his hands, and they began to glow faintly. Behind him, the Vharalyn were gaining, but not nearly as fast as the approaching herd. The hunter stepped one last time before he pulled his sheathed blade over his shoulder and slammed it into the ground. He strained slightly, but he used the force and momentum to launch himself into the air above the herd. Tyr drew his blade midair, pushed his chakra through it, and slammed it down through one of the Vharalyn that had been chasing the herd.

His blade sunk all of the way through the pelagus and into the ground below. It was dead before it realized what had happened. Blood gushed forth across the rumbling ground as the herd stampeded behind him. Tyr yanked his blade free and turned just in time to roll out of the path of yet another attacker. “Don’t you ever get tired of trying to kill me?”

The roars of two more feral felynes answered his question. The stench of their sister’s spilled blood was enough to enrage them, and Tyr was already wishing he wasn’t the only person who could be called on at a moment’s notice in all of Nifila. His last attack, meant to even the odds, had drained him of a significant portion of his remaining stamina, more than he’d realized, and his labored breathing gave the Vharalyn even more reason to attack, to kill. Bloodlust coursed through the circling beasts’ bodies. This empowering rage thickened and hardened their fur; the soulless white of their eyes clouded over with ferocious red. There was little to do now but pray he had the strength to do the impossible alone.

“I don’t suppose any of you would consider switching sides?” Tyr asked, even though the monsters never took him up on those kinds of offers. All three Vharalyn were on him at once. “Guess not.”

Although he rolled a fair distance, Tyr wasn’t fast enough to avoid all three. One struck him just as he regained his footing, knocking him onto his back. The Vharalyn’s claws, extended further than usual, grazed his skin beneath the thick armor. Toxins inside the claws made the scratches burn, but none were deep enough to seep into something vital. Without time or space to spare, Tyr raised his blade up and pushed against the beast’s throat. It didn’t pierce the skin, not even as his attacker tried to bite, pushing more and more of her weight onto the cutting edge. Her fur was simply too thick to penetrate without more force; her sisters weren’t about to wait for that to happen.

As they ran to attack the supine hunter, an arrow the length of a man’s torso pierced the thick hide of the Vharalyn atop Tyr, knocking it off of him. Surprised, but not about die because of it, Tyr tucked his blade to his body and rolled towards where the arrow had come from. The feral felyne roared violently as paralyzing toxins seeped into her bloodstream. Another arrow whistled over Tyr towards it, but only managed to embed its paralytic point into the soft dirt.

A female figure with a hammer easily her size and weight charged past Tyr and swung in a wild whirlwind of blows, although none quite connected. Kim and Leona, Tyr thought to himself. Of course it’d be them who saved me. The odds had been evened, but pack hunters weren’t the ones to look for honorable combat. Unfortunately for the Vharalyn, that meant that hunters seldom were either. As the last swing of Leona’s whirlwind thudded heavily on the ground, the Vharalyn leapt. One was knocked to the ground with another paralyzing pierce shot; a second was knocked down by the force of Tyr’s body slam. The third was taught a lesson it would take to its grave.

Despite the sheer weight of her hammer and her clumsy positioning, years of practice had given Leona enough strength to forget such trivialities. With a flash of movement, the Deep Darkhammer arced up from the ground where it had fallen, and came crashing down onto the airborne predator. There was only a split second before the full weight of the hammer squished the Vharalyn’s head between itself and the ground. Blood splashed across the hunter’s black armor and weapon, and a wicked grin splashed across her face.

A few meters away, the Vharalyn that had originally attacked Tyr was twitching slightly from the third paralyzing arrow to pierce her hide. She batted away several shots, but the toxin in her hind thigh kept her from charging or evading effectively. Adrenaline pushed her on. She ambled forward, trying to get at the bow that was causing her so much pain. Kim, clad in armor of the same material as her partner, pulled back another large arrow and let it fly. Though the Vharalyn dodged in its usual manner, its hind leg fumbled on the landing and the beast fell to the ground, rolling over itself. Taking the opportunity, the hunter quickly launched arrow after arrow into the felled beast. The toxic buildup quickly became too much for the once proud pelagus to handle. She roared weakly as her limbs seized.

“Go in peace” the archer murmured as she pulled out a final arrow. Red eyes glared helplessly up at her before being blanked by a single thrust. “Another senseless kill…” Her voice, tinged with the guilt of necessity, was softer than the gentle motion she used to slide her arrow effortlessly back out of the Vharalyn. The odds had flipped in a matter of seconds.

The final Vharalyn squared off against her original foe. Despite her fury and her lack of wounds, the beast wasn’t stupid. She was overpowered now and, more importantly to her, outnumbered. Her hunting pack was dead, and soon she would be too. As Tyr charged forward she leapt around him and ran. An honorable death was never part of her plan.

Tyr sheathed his katana and sighed. There was no reason to chase her now; most of her pack was gone. Instead, he turned himself towards the two that had saved his life and bowed as best he could. His chest and back were starting to hurt from the multiple impacts they’d taken, but that was nothing a bit of rest wouldn’t heal. The holes in his armor, however, were another matter. “Thank you for saving me,” he said.

Kim, quicker on both her feet and with her words than her sister shook her head. “There’s no need to thank us. We were only doing what was necessary.” Despite the gentleness of her voice, Tyr could tell there was an edge of bitterness directed towards him. He’d known Kim too long not to hear it.

“Right, well.” He paused long enough to begin carving a few pieces off of his felled opponents. He didn’t need their materials, but he couldn’t just leave their bodies there. “Thanks anyways. You can take what you like from the mess, I’m heading back.”

“Don’t think we’re leaving you out of our report.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“The Guild won’t like that you came out here.”

“The herdsmen don’t like it when their Aptonoth are slaughtered due to Guild regulations.”

The sisters just watched him go in silence after that, and carved the bodies as quickly as they could before lighting a signal for the Guild balloon. “That damn Tyr is going to get his license revoked soon.”

“They haven’t done so yet, sister.” Kim removed her second spine from a dead Vharalyn. “But if he keeps going like this, even Halcon can’t protect him forever.”

In town, there were cheers before Tyr could even report the news of his success. He had never come back without winning before, and some of them already knew that the Naru Sisters were sent out as well. Everyone clapped him on the shoulder or shook his hand, and, though it was painful, Tyr smiled his whole way home. Sarah and Natalie met him at his door.

“Are you hurt?” the secret princess asked.

“The people who come back from a hunt uninjured,” he paused as he stepped inside. “Are never the first ones into battle, in my experience.” Tyr stopped long enough to give Natalie a reassuring smile. “But a good hunter always comes home. If you two can excuse me though, I need some rest.”

With Tyr gone inside, Sarah glanced back. The crowd of people had already dispersed, and the town was quiet again. “Does that happen every time, little Natalie?”

“Yeah. He’s our hero.”

“What will the town do if he’s gone?”

“Tyr would never leave us.”

“I know he wouldn’t by choice. But eventually everyone ages. He…” She paused for a moment, remembering that she was speaking with a child. “He can’t live forever.”

The girl paused for a long time, unsure of what to say. “You have to ask Chief Nevvy that. She’s the only one who’d know.”

Chief Nevvy laughed at the question. “Not every town has a hero to save them, dear one. Our town was no different before Tyr came, or at least not very different, anyways. I suppose we had one fewer person, though I don’t always keep track of numbers or anything, but if I think about it… oh, nevermind. It’s not important. Where was I? Oh, right. When Tyr’s either too old, too injured, or just too fed up with hunting to be our guardian then we’ll rely on the Guild to do things again. We did it before, and we can do it again. We even do it now for a lot of things. I, myself, make almost all of my requests through them. Of course, I don’t think I’d make a very good Village Chief if I didn’t take the opportunity to cement Nifila’s relationship with the Guild. Honestly now, we won’t be rendered helpless without the aid of one man, no matter how good he is or how well-loved. Our village has been here for a long time now, though exactly how long is a matter of some speculation because it depends on whether or not you believe that the first settlement here came when they said they did the first time or not. Dreadful business for the historians, or so I’m told. Either way, far longer than Tyr has been here, and especially longer than he’s been a hunter. Besides, I hear that he’s taken little Natalie under his wing, and the girl has some potential, wouldn’t you say? I don’t know if you know about hunting potential, I know I don’t know much about it myself, but I certainly would say she has it. Then again, I’ve also known both her and her parents since they were born, and was there for their births, in fact. Lovely and joyous occasions, each of them. I’m sure she’ll make a fine ‘town hero’ should Nifila ever lose its Azure Flame.”

“But, the Guild hasn’t done all that well here, from how the villagers have reacted,” Sarah interjected as Nevvy served her a hot cup of tea.

“There’s always a shortage of hunters in villages like ours, dear one, and so there’s always only so many people that are helped anyways. While Tyr was gone today, someone else who might have needed him could’ve come along just as easily as not. I’m told Natalie learned that the hard way, poor thing. Even with Tyr there are villagers who must deal with losses and setbacks, such is our way. I know it must be hard for you to understand, being from a city as large as Fahrenn, which you simply must tell me about some day. I’ve always had a dread fascination with the desert, but I could never tolerate the climate, you know? It does terrible things to my hair. But that’s the way life has to be. Wyverns, Pelagii, and even herbivores always have and, presumably, always will outnumber anything like you and I on this planet. No one even quite knows why, but what does it matter why? Our ancestors knew this when they built our village, and the Ancients before them must have known it when they built their castles and towers and cities, and no doubt our progeny will survive through the imbalance as we do now. You haven’t even touched your tea. Is something the matter? I haven’t made you sick, have I? Oh, that would be just awful of me.”

It was unsettling that Nevyra’s arguments made as much sense as they did. What was worse is that she wasn’t even arguing. She was explaining. “I suppose I’d never thought of it all that way before.”

“Few do.”