Bowhunter – Chapter 3

The Mane, The Unclaimed Waters between Fohalin and Nauberta – Typhon Resurgence, Day 13

The Unclaimed: a whole sea encompassing what was south of the island nation of Fohalin and north of the Pirate Capital Island Nauberta. As of the intensely formulated, and densely structured treaty, this vast bowl was strictly speaking neither the domain of the Pirate Lords of Nauberta or the Merpersons of the Kingdom of Halrel beneath the sea to the west of Nauberta. Whilst the treaty secured or rather prevented either side from preying on one and other, it gave the Pirate Lords free reign over anything on the surface and kept everything beneath the waters at the mercy of the Halrellian merpersons. The pirates could loot all the wealth they could chase down, whilst the merpersons did not have to worry about their own sources of food being poached.

Amazingly the treaty held.

Its success wasn’t lost on Micah Grosvenor, for whom the notion of a treaty was just a pseudo-civilised means of devolving any situation from violence to not talking to each other anymore.

Which suited him as he looked up through the ghostly light breaking into his domain. A furious, brutish patch of flaring orange marred the crystalline ceiling above him.

“The pirates are enjoying themselves,” he said across the telepathic link innate to merpersons, used for communicating underwater. This means of ‘speaking’ was granted by an additional lobe in the brain, functioning with the same strength as if speaking aloud, in that the clarity and pitch of a person’s voice was at the mercy of distance.

“Wretched parasites, forever soiling our waters,” growled Hadrian Brunty, gently gliding past.

Patches of a bruise-coloured blooms began to breakout around the floating flare of decadence. Micah sighed, gassy, with tiny glassy bubbles escaping the gills at the sides of his neck. “There’ll be sharks, and other such predators coming soon. We’ll need to hunt carefully, and quickly,” he then said.

The veteran hunter was of the carchara-clan, his physical body that of a human merged into the body of a shark. His human torso, and somewhat human face and arms were coral-white, his red, blue, and yellow veins beneath the dense skin practically glowing in contrast. The latter of these veins was unique to sentient water dwellers, in that this circulatory system held, and passed throughout the body, natural light – ensuring the necessary vitamins were stored and released when Micah and his kindred were at depths were the sun’s light could hardly penetrate, if at all.

Whilst gill flaps sat on either side of his neck like swollen scar tissue, Micah still had a single lung, kept for when he ever needed to leave the sea or visited any ‘dry’ areas of his home. Merging into the human aspects of his appearance, Micah’s teeth were triangular, with three rows set into his upper and lower jaw. His eyes however looked human, dark grey, and inquisitive as if perpetually scrutinising the underwater world around him. From the gut into the hip his human form melded into that of a shark, the skin in this case becoming silver with brown mottling. From Micah’s back rose the cartilage fin of a shark, merging into the human flesh at the sides.

“A rushed hunt is a good way to go hungry,” Hadrian added, weaving through a school of throbbing red jellyfish.

Over his torso, Micah wore a copper coloured stony armour, with murky green seaweed woven through the joints. A length of black spotted, sandy shaded mora eel skin strapped his quiver tightly to his back. His fin pushed the quiver to one side, making it easier to reach for the arrows. Each of the projectiles was tightly clipped within the confines of the wooden quiver, a quiver built from the remnants of an ancient wreck from the long not-entirely-forgotten days of conflict with the Pirate Lords, Fable’s Tomb. It was however – as a means of hiding the truth of its source – decorated with various species of leafy shaped den coral, pulsating with reds, blues, greens, yellows and even colours beyond the spectrum perceivable by his own eyes.

Micah’s bow, The Siren’s Answer, was also made from the same ‘reclaimed’ wood, and infused with strands of vivid blue and yellow seaweed, and enchanted enough to mildly hypnotise his prey should Micah be spotted. Whilst the wood was from a land source, Micah had made sure to properly enchant it so as to make sure it could shoot underwater like the coral and reed bows normally used by his kindred.

Alongside Hadrian, Micah glided seamlessly through the sea, staying fifty meters beneath the surface, high enough to survey the vast canyons, mountains, and bedrock. Vast forests of pillar, staghorn, and finger coral formed thriving and colourful channel like pathways, between jagged, inky patches.

Countless fish, spotted, striped, glowing and dull, moved in shoals as if a single organism, whilst frilly, luminescent jellyfish with bowl shaped heads of translucent matter and twenty-meter-long tendrils floated harmlessly on the current.

Whilst the darkness increased as they pair wafted their way deeper, their eyes began to adjust. Light from their yellow veins poured into the capillaries of their eyes to help remove the darkness as the surface light became weaker.

Given the stories from the other hunters back in their home city, within the Olkhan Plateau, Micah was wary about going out. Whilst the accounts from other hunters’ spoke of their game becoming strangely sparser, that only represented more of challenge to Micah. It was the stories of how the local species of fish and crustaceans were behaving timidly, uncharacteristically, that concerned Micah.

But what was disturbing Micah the most, was that the further horizon to the north was devoid of lights.

There were several city states belonging to the neighbouring Sovereign Zatrey Dynesty, close to the eastern edges of the island nation Fohalin, built deep into the canyons and upon the mountain tops there. Despite the distance, on the horizon to the north of the Unclaimed there was always a slight layer of golden light at the base of the grey shades of the horizon. Weak as it was from being so far away, it was a point of reference, and suddenly Micah felt not only a mild sense of disorientation, but as if he was swimming into unknown territory. Without that underlying beacon, the world he knew was gone.

Nobody back in Micah’s home had heard anything from their neighbours’ cities, and scheduled traders had ceased visiting. As a result, Micah’s home state halted all outgoing travel and trade to the north-east until they figured out what this silence meant.

“Micah,” whispered Hadrian, stealing Micah’s attention from the lifeless horizon.

Micah didn’t need to look to his hunting partner, as the beast swam into his own periphery. An orca. Magnificent, glossy black contrasting with the purest white, it moved by at their depth, only sixty meters away.

Instinctively Micah formed up on Hadrian, raising his bow in readiness. Orca were not often belligerent; however, this beast held the highest tally of kills and attacks on Merpersons and Sirens – more so than large squid and octopus, larger species of jellyfish, and sharks.

Even so, these animals were a rare sight this far south in the Unclaimed Waters.

“Burning Mantle… What is an orca doing here?” Micah cursed as the beast rolled into a pocket of bright water.

“Lost from its pod? But either way, there’s something off about this one,” Hadrian added, his tone tense, and Micah could imagine him swallowing a lump in his throat.

As the creature seemed to aimlessly roll over, its belly turning to the surface, the sudden chill of come close to such an unpredictable predator was replaced with a colder dread.

It was wounded.

The great beast glided sluggishly, forlornly by, listing to one side. Several more punctures ran diagonally up its flank, a pattern shaped like an attempt at a bite.

“Now what did that?” Micah asked, looking to Hadrian. Though as the senior hunter, Micah knew if he was stumped, then Hadrian was baffled more so. And no offense to his good friend, but Hadrian was always a few clams short of a starter.

“Well, if you can’t think of anything, we might be in trouble,” Hadrian replied, returning a dubious look. “Maybe it was collateral in a pirate engagement?”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad answer, Micah thought, holding back a smirk. “Perhaps… But when does that happen. Orcas are savvy enough to avoid pirates. And I don’t like the pattern of the punctures. I think something tried to take a bite of this apex predator, but the oversized dolphin was slippery enough to evade it…” His voice trailed off into a thoughtful hiss, air bubbles rippling out of his gills.

“Could have been a coordinated attack from harpoon-gunners, on some scumbag pirate’s vessel.” Hadrian’s tone became ugly with a sneer.

“I know they’re pirates at the end of the day, and you shouldn’t trust them, but they have been honouring the treaty for the past seventy years, just as much as we have.” Whilst Micah, like all merpersons in his homeland, despised pirates, even feared them still, he was not prepared to allow discriminating talk to take root. If such discourse was allowed to sprout, it would only poison his peoples’ attitudes, before eventually leaking corruption into their very spirits.

The past was beyond Micah’s memory and experience, however, generationally it was his father and mother, aunts, uncles, and grandparents who had warred with the pirates, and suffered their savagery – only one or two generations removed from the cruel conflict. Even his parents seldom shared stories, leaving Micah to learn about the conflict in school and through other recorded means.

“Let’s go deeper, get away from it,” Micah said, trying to put the mystery out of his mind. “It has lost its desire for fighting anyhow.”

“Or it’s appetite,” Hadrian added.

As they descended, great pillars of rock began to reach out of the murkiness, ordained with leafy weeds and luminescent coral, and flimsy, wafting plants. Several larger eels poked their heads out of their dens in curiosity, sinister glints in their dark, beady eyes. Skin crawling scuttling, kicking up puffs of dust, came suddenly from jagged edges, or among the tufts of plant life – crabs.

Eight legs, and as ugly as if the Gods where drunk and creating animals for a bet that day, the very sight of these creatures shrivelled Micah’s paler human skin. Such irrational fear – and Micah knew full fell it was ridiculous – started his senses and brought his whole being close to descending into panic.

For over forty years, for as long as Micah could remember, he held this phobia for these creatures. It had often, though he never admitted it, forced him to move off to other hunting grounds or risked him spooking his quarry by taking paths to avoid crabs.

Micah swallowed and forced himself to ignore such unexpected scuttles in the rocks. He continued to move on, into the wide canyons, looking for prey – fat tuna, or larger eels.

Around the pair, the shoals of red and yellow fish began to shift and dart in a more agitated manner. The second oddity today, Micah thought. Ordinarily they were indifferent when hunters glided by.

There was a brief burst of shock from Hadrian, the kind of sound someone on the surface would make as a gasp. Micah’s head darted up, catching the ethereal shadow of something disappearing behind a wide column of jagged rock.

“Another orca? Looking for his mate?” Micah asked, in an attempt to reassure himself as much Hadrian. He could feel his heart racing, his arms tingling weakly. This world has changed in unknown ways over the past couple of weeks, he was sure the old reasonings and rationales no longer applied.

“It was too big to be an orca…” Hadrian spoke quietly, a tremor, slight as it was, evident in his tone.

“Then it has to be a whale… Sperm, blue even?” Micah floated on the spot, his shark-fin wafting back and forth to keep himself steady.

“Since when have we seen any larger whale species in these waters?” Hadrian replied, gingerly gliding across to an array of tall, glossy pillars of rock. Each of the ancient edifices, worn down and stripped of their bulk by centuries of erosion, still retained the odd jagged edge here and there as parts their rocky surfaces were broken off or crumbled away.

“You only find them in the further eastern depths, or far to the south. Come on. That shadow was probably the remains of some poor merchant’s ship sinking, on its way to become another reef.”

That was it, Micah thought with tension-relieving finality. Of course. The pirates had been far more active in the region since, and Gods only knew why, shipping lanes had been extended so far south of Fohalin.

“No… It was moving… I don’t know, towards here. It wasn’t sinking…”

Micah was about to reply when he saw it, the dreaded, dark truth he had been trying to avoid. From the inky blue darkness came an almost triangular snout, ugly, jutting fangs breaking out from either side. Its eyes emerged from the gloom, having already singled out Hadrian before they could even confirm its presence.

Soaring on four fins, with a tapered tail, its bulk quickly became evident, at twenty-five meters in length – at least. Each of the rocky pillars before it dissolved as it glided through them. Rendered to powder, plumes of debris were blown up into a gigantic veil enveloping the ancient looking animal. When the beast reemerged, all of its flesh ripping fangs were on display, its maw opened and ready to swallow Hadrian whole.

But Hadrian was quick, plunging swiftly beneath the ancient beast. Blind panic more than skill, but it worked, Micah thought even as his own mind began to blank on what to do. There was no time to draw on the beast, so Micah decided to flee, turning on the spot and following Hadrian’s example, gliding deeper into the tighter recesses of the rocky lanes.

The wash of pin-prickling nerves running down his back was not simple fear, but a response to the chill of the beast’s shadow loaming over him. As fast as he could, Micah cut through the water, inches from the sandy seabed. Spotting a natural arch in the rocky bank to his right Micah pounced and shot upwards towards it. Whilst it was only few meters wide, it would stall the beast until… Well, Micah couldn’t think that far ahead.

With a clap of jaws shutting, and a rush of water, Micah made it through. He twisted on the spot, pulling an arrow, any arrow his fingers could reach, whilst raising his bow. But much like the stone pillars before, this coral riddled archway collapsed before the sheer gait of the ancient killer. From beneath the tumbling debris, its long, tapering snout leered at Micah, almost akin to an alligator, but with many, many more teeth.

Eyes fixed on Micah.

With no time to draw, Micah spun once more and raced back down into the concourse of rocky banks and trenches. Behind, hardly even slowed, the beast came, just meters behind. Knowing he would never make it any further, Micah fixed the arrow he had drawn to his string. Spinning about to look back down his body at the creature, he almost froze from fright. Sinister eyes gave way to a vast chasm rimmed by curved teeth. Micah glided back, drawing on his bow. Blooms of luminescence bled from the bow’s limbs, leaving tendrils of ethereal light in its wake. With the intended magic dulling the beast’s ferocity, Micah had the time, barely, to reach full draw. Curved teeth reached his tail; the pit of the maw all Micah could look at.

As he was about to loose the arrow, the beast’s maw snaped at his tail, missing by an inch. The sudden rush of water from the impact threw Micah back, rattling his muscles. The turbulence threw his aim away to the side and forced Micah to hunch his shoulders, reducing his draw and robbing the tension in his back.

Frustration burned through the sharp panic, incentive enough to push Micah off to the left of the beast. Instinctively he brought his tail up almost doubling over as he twirled. A serendipitous manoeuvre, as another clap of snapping teeth followed, just missing him.

Gliding back, rapidly kicking his tail, Micah drew on the beast again. He twisted at his waist, aligning himself side-on and straightened his back to get the most out of the muscles there. As the beast turned, Micah rushed the release, however; his fingers plucked the string, pulling away to the left.

Micah could not say precisely where the arrow struck but figured – in the brief moments of clarity reaching up through the pounding panic – it went slightly wide and struck the neck of the beast. Though all the arrow needed to do was penetrate enough of the skin to envenomate the blood vessels and maybe the beast might feel sick enough to withdraw.

As Micah was about to continue his descent, Hadrian cut through the shimmering backdrop, behind the creature’s other flank. He loosed a smooth, even graceful shot, striking the animal in the side.

The sudden searing punch forced the beast to toss its head to the right, to assess this new attack. Taking full advantage, Micah fixed another arrow to his bow and quickly launched it into the torso, where the lungs should be – he assumed, given he could not see any gills.

Before it hit, he had another arrow fixed to the string and was drawing again. Hadrian managed another strike, preceding Micah’s next shot.

With enough of the crippling venom burning through the beast’s bloodstream, it loosed a forlorn groan and dived, turning sluggishly and withdrawing back across the cloying dust and debris from its pursuit.

Stunned, numb with shock, Micah watched it fade away into the indigo shadows of the deep ocean. He could hardly breath and only now noticed that his gills were aching, as they tried to keep up with his heart.

“Burning Mantle, Micah!” Hadrian glided to his side, his own eyes not leaving the spectral remnants of the creature. “That was a… A… What was that?”

“Something from the depths, much further north and east… I’d never seen one before. Only read about them,” Micah replied, his own mind waring with the reality of what he had just seen… Just survived.

“What the all the Brilliance of the Light-Giver was it doing here?”

“Hunting…” Was all Micah could think as an answer.

“Hunting? What was wrong with its own domain?”

Micah didn’t need to think about an answer, as his mind quickly produced one on a bed of chilling nerves.

“Something must have forced it this far south.”

This world Micah had known all his life, no longer resembled anything familiar.