Chapter 4 – The Striped Pine Fox

“Darkness of the mind is not a weakness. Anyone who is plunged into this maelstrom, is effectively holding back a tidal wave, and must be applauded for their strength.”

– Extract from the Tome of Spiritual Alignment, Maytoni Holy Writ, Author Unknown

Luci’s heart leapt; her face flushed. Evander’s own face fell, hardening. After a moment, or frankly, eternity, of silence, he spoke. “And how did you manage to discern that?” He leaned forward, one forearm on his knee, to cover the other moving casually to the lengthy dagger on his belt.

“There’s no need for that,” Alvero chuckled, his face brightening again. He leaned back, arms wide. “I don’t care why you’re here. Look at me, what would I do with the knowledge? Your business is your own.” He waved the tension off, then looked to Luci. “I’m not sure who you are, but it doesn’t matter to me.”

Luci smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, for the subterfuge. We’re new here, don’t know who to trust…” She attempted. Alvaro pointed to Evander’s quiver, to the arrows packed into it.

“The northern and southern subcontinents are the only two places where you can find arch griffins. We have them off to the east, but they’re protected. No one who knows that would, in their right mind have a flock’s worth of feathers swinging openly from their hip.” Luci was taken aback. Even she didn’t know that. It must have been a recent development.

Evander smirked, beaten, though not sore about it. “Well played. I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“Oh, shut up, would you,” Alvaro jested, chuckling. “I won’t have it. From what little I know of Maytoni, you seem a decent lot. And besides, I find myself limited in what I can do to help people these days, so how can I help?”

“The people you saw…”

“And I did see people, I don’t care what the watch says.”

“What can you tell me about them?”

Alvaro looked pensive, his eyes up and searching over his shelves. He blew out a breath. “You may be disappointed. Silhouettes mainly, but they were organised, and uniform… Well, apart from the one which towered over the others.”

Luci felt her eyes bulge and had leaned forward before realising it. “Like a giant, you mean?”

“Yeah. Track giant, you know, a descendant of the much larger ones. Common enough in the far south, and we get them passing through here.”

“What direction were they moving in?” Evander went on.

Alvaro looked to the maps, and singled one out. He pressed a finger down on a specific spot, where a tributary became a lake. “On the other side of this lake… And they moved off north-west. This lower part of the region is devoid of cyclops. They’ve learned not to come this far south, however, after that lake, you’re in their home.” He sounded sombre, and the sudden shift in tone alarmed Luci. “You’re Maytoni, some of the best archers in the world. Summiteer I’m guessing?”

Evander grinned. “I can neither confirm nor deny.”

“Well, at least you have a chance.” Alvaro looked to Luci. “Your so-called sister on the other hand, well, she just exudes huntress, and all that bear hide… Where I a betting man, I’d say you stand a chance out there.”

It was dark when they left Alvaro’s residence – the cyclops who hunts cyclops, Luci thought of him. He waved them off, giving them plenty of maps and knowledge to work with. Of course, he was adamant they wait until dawn before venturing into the forest.

Once they were in their snug room – two beds, a window overlooking the river – Evander set about checking through all of his kit. Luci was feeling exhaustion drape its soothing, possessive self over her, from the shoulders down, but decided to stay up as long as Evander was planning to. In an odd way she was feeling as if, she, Luciana Doran, the slayer of a Dominator Bear, had to prove something to the Summiteer. Others in the Castle were also former, or serving soldiers, and some in elite fighting units. Yet, they knew her, and she had their respect. Evander, for all his civility, and sincere friendliness, resented her way of life.

He sat on the floor going over his arrows; deep maroon shafts – dragon’s blood staining – with indigo flights tied up in gold silk. The piles varied, from tapered armour piercing, to wide broadheads. His bow leaned against the wall behind him. Unstrung it looked like a badly drawn C.

“Sand Shade,” Luci began, pulling out her own arrows. It was beautiful in its simplicity; Oakthei yew and Maytoni bamboo. Both soft woods, however the Maytoni bamboo wasn’t like any other, and adhered to other woods in bows like a serpent constricting prey.

The myth went that a species of snake was introduced by a Maytoni god, to keep rodents away from farmers’ crops. But the snakes became so greedy they started killing the livestock. The same god who enlisted them, turned them into tall reeds instead. Hardly the type of wit expected from an infallible being, but Luci decided to leave it.

Evander glanced up. “Named it after the kangaroos which inhabit the arid lands. Illusive prey if your hunting them, and graceful.”

“You’re not wrong there. Good eating too.” She couldn’t help but note a quiver in his tone, and his hands didn’t seem as steady. “The arid lands are worth going to solely to see their herds bounding over the plains.” Evander made a fist with one hand and tensed it for a moment.

“Orion called his bow Nature’s Worth. He made it himself, from a stave taken from a tree which had stood for a thousand years. Once a year it would be struck by a barrage of lightning in a wild display. The locals would lay slaughtered animals at its base, their best of course as an offering. They believed the lightning was their gods pouring out their wrath against their transgressions. It’s called the martyr’s tree. Orion didn’t believe in any gods, only Nature.”

Evander tried a wry smirk. “I’m surprised they let him take a piece.”

“You know they didn’t,” Luci replied through a smirk. “We took a stave when no one was around. Orion believed with every animal he slew; the bow was empowered by its spirit. A dragon would strengthen the integrity of the wood, a cockatrice the speed of the shot, that sort of thing. With each new hunt, the bow always seemed to hold… Well, more power to it.”

Subtly was not Luci’s fortes. Cleverly weaving a leading dialogue was like trying to take in the whole of a stary night, whilst simultaneously mapping out a specific pattern. “I feel like I’ve lived a few lifetimes, thanks to Ori, despite my start. There is a darkness in your mind, Evander.” She felt a twinge of guilt, pulling it to the surface. It was Evander’s secret after all and should be discussed on his terms. He looked to her, as if awaiting more – his standard non-verbal response. “I’ve seen it before in people. It’s often understated as melancholy, but is more severe, crippling, debilitating,” she continued.

“It’s as if a possessive force takes over,” Evander muttered, setting his arrows down. “Anything which brings me joy, a sense of self-worth, becomes a hollowed husk. I try to keep active, shooting arrows, carrying out maintenance, but often I just sit, wallowing, hopelessly trying to whether the storm.”

Luci thought for a moment. What was it his Summiteer friends called him? Evey? She moved to sit next to him. “A storm is good metaphor. You have no control over it, and just have to endure it. But you do, don’t you? And that makes you stronger than the rest of us.”

“Once the morning comes, it’ll have passed. I’ll feel like it never happened.” He tried another smile.

Luci figured he needed his actual pals – Ebrill. She squeezed his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Evey. You showed me kindness, and I know how you Maytoni think of the Castle. I’m glad that I’m not doing this alone… I’d go feral.”

Evey was silent for a moment. He looked to Luci with tired eyes and nodded. “Thank you, Luci.”

As they set out at dawn, Luci noted that Evey was much sprier.

His attire, as it had been throughout their time together, was more casual, as he clearly wanted to hide his profession. Rather he resembled the older world hunters who presented themselves through contrast; well-trimmed attire wrapped in unkept ponchos and cloaks. In Evey’s case he wore an amethyst tunic with a sapphire sash around his upper waist, both embroidered with swirling patterns. His stony breeches were padded, tucked into fur lined boots, and around his waist and thighs were straps and pouches which began to push his image into that of the outdoorsman. A hip quiver for his arrows hung from his right hip, and his bow quiver swayed from his left hip, each tanned from kangaroo leather and decorated with gull feathers. A satchel was tightly slung over his shoulder and sat at the base of his back, with a dark brown half cape falling down from his left shoulder.

Using the acquired map, they moved through the hamlet to a small track by a tributary. The first thing that hit Luci was how alive it was. Dragonflies whipped by the size of her hand; frog spawn clumped up shallow pockets; tiny shoals of fish scuttled through glimmering waters; water rats scurried away upon hearing them; waders in white, grey, blue, purple feathers stalked the waters, fixed onto larger meals within; colourful birds flitted by, hopped long branches; and beavers were waddling along the banks, dragging branches. Even further through the thick aspen and birch trees, among the ferns, wildflowers, and nettles, were deer, looking on curiously before galloping away.

All the work of one determined man culling a pest. Luci was astonished by Alvaro’s work, though she would have exterminated the cyclops totally – and from what she had learned of Alvaro, he could have if he wanted.

“I suppose you would have wiped them out.” It was as if Evander had read her mind. He moved along the soft, muddy track ahead of her. He held Sand Shade over his shoulder and kept his other hand casually resting on the hilt of his long dagger. His head kept swivelling around at every noise and movement.

“That’s the way of Nature, isn’t it? If a species goes extinct, that’s just how it is. New species are born into the world all the time keeping Nature alive. Alvaro should have kept going frankly, before his age hobbled him.” She could feel the grin breaking on Evander’s face.

“Didn’t mean to sound so brusque,” he added. “Just curious about your ideologies.”

“And you believe that cyclops, grotesques, not human, nor animal, are products of your gods’ design?”

“I believe that the Gods built the world with a natural order set in place. Some of that was interfered with.”

“And the cyclops?”

“An abomination no doubt, and who knows how they came about, but that does not necessarily grant us the right to exterminate them. Even the Gods have a plan for them.”

“I love how you zealots have an answer for everything.”

Evey looked back over his shoulder, meeting her playful smugness. “Savage,” he jested.

The lake was murky yet soothing in its presence. A flotilla of ornate looking ducks meandered lazily, bright oranges, with jewel like blues and greens. Moorhens squeaked from swathes of reeds. Occasionally the surface was ruptured as a fish nipped at an insect. In one corner was a mound of branches, built into a small hovel: a beaver’s den. There was a muggy heat, a swathe of organic smells rose, and Luci sucked in a deep breath. Evander stopped to admire the scene, actually smiling as the ducks floated by.

“I find this helps,” he said quietly. “I do believe that the Gods engineer such scenes to keep me well. Not to sound narcissistic, I believe they do it for all of us. Many just fail to see it.”

“Now that I like. And yeah, it’s vile how much beauty goes overlooked,” Luci added, watching fuzzy bees scramble over the wildflowers. A small ruddy canine padded into view with oddly elongated legs and muddy stripes running down its neck; large gleaming eyes looked into the water with a mesmerising fixation, anxiously awaiting a meal.

“Striped pine fox…” Evey began, quietly. “I favourite of mine… Unimaginative name, however.” Luci looked to him, watching a gentle smile work over his stubbly face, seeing how the bleakness in his spirit could be evaporated by scenes like these. Maybe he was right? Maybe gods did engineer this scene for him, here and now. With a reassured sigh, Evey looked to the north-west side of the lake, into the birch and ash trees. “I bet I can pick up the trail before you,” he said.

Luci narrowed her gaze, pressed her lips tight, then said, “You’re on.”

Naturally Luci found trace of these mysterious interlopers before Evander and was only briefly smug about it. She suspected that he knew full well she would pick up the trail before he did. At this point in her life Luci didn’t need to try; anything that didn’t sit in a natural setting simply glared at her.

“When this is over, I can get you a job training Summiteers,” Evander said softly, studying a scrape of soil over a fallen branch. She smirked dismissively at the remark. “I’m serious.”

Whilst the tributary was rife with life, that density was slowly ebbing away into an unsettling stillness. Firstly, the snorts of deer stopped, then the scuttling of vermin fell away, and finally the birds’ choruses ceased after a gradual decrescendo. Luci didn’t like it. It wasn’t right to her. Like a night sky without stars.

“I bet we disrupted their portal enough that they too were sent far from their mark,” Evander said, moving slowly between tree cover, bow in hand, eyes focused like a bird of prey. “Otherwise, why risk trapsing through cyclops territory.”

“Speaking of which,” Luci added, only a few feet to his left. “If The Headsman has weapons and magic capable of collapsing the Gargoylian Fastness, why does he need the phoenix arrows?” She was speaking rhetorically, and Evander gave his usual raised brow in response. “I’d bet the heat is the only thing which can break open the hearts.”

“I’ve thought the same thing. He isn’t stealing the arrows just to have them in his arsenal – besides, there are not nearly enough for country wide devastation. And that Seal will have been built by the Gods, so there is no getting around using the correct key.”

“Does your lore mention anything about it?”

“Phoenix fire isn’t like anything else in nature. In fact, there are cults back home who worship it.”

“The fire, rather than the beast?”

“Yeah. But even outside of that, it’s considered a reverential power, spoken of – albeit briefly in our writs – as without equal. I bet even Dominators would flee from one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Luci added. “What about the famous Bow that Carved the Chasm? That was built by a god and carved out a deathly realm.”

“That’s the power of a God. A phoenix is power bestowed upon nature and falls under natural power. What is meant, is that phoenix fire is without equal within the natural.”

“Of course, if The Headsman looses those arrows at the hearts, he’ll obliterate them. He’ll need to focus the heat.”

They moved on in silence for a few minutes.

“So why did the gods build the Seal?” Luci asked. “I stupid question I suppose. To hold back great evil.”

“Yeah. All that’s mentioned in the lore is ‘perverse wickedness and woe’. Of course, if it wasn’t for Mercy and Wrath, we’d likely have the power and trust of the Gods to dispose of this evil ourselves.”

“Then why don’t the gods just cast it all to the Chasm?”

“Good question, Luci… And I hate to contradict your earlier statement about zealots, and our capacity to produce answers, but at best I can only repeat what others have theorised. The best being that it is something we must bear the risk of, as a burden, or penance of sorts because of the actions of Wrath, Mercy, and the others.”

“The other Divined, as you call them?”

“Yep. Whilst it is always Wrath and Mercy referenced, there were others in league with them prior to Tovorn shooting His arrow between the pair and carving the Chasm. If we’d behaved, then we would have the power to remove this evil I’d say. As it stands, we must live with this shadow – however well locked up – over us.”

“And that’s why I don’t believe in gods.”

“Because you heard something you simply didn’t like the sound of?” Evander teased.

“Because of the morality of it. That’s… Well, it’s too much. To take out the actions of the Divined on all of us.”

“Wrath and Mercy are not any different than any of us, made the same, therefore any of us are just as fallible. I’m not happy about it either, I must say. But look at the world we live in. War, greed, conquest – Dytrentia alone is evidence enough that none of us can be trusted with deity level power.”

“Then why give the Divined the power in the first place. The gods had to know what would happen?”

“It’s like I’m a student again forced to cover the children’s classes in temple,” Evey laughed. He stopped and looked at Luci. “It’s another good question I can’t give an answer to. Perhaps it’s a lesson we had to learn ourselves? A large part involves freewill. And as for why the Gods didn’t strip the Divined of their power…?”

“You beat me to that one.”

“They turned their power into a curse, as punishment. No Divined can reside for too long in one place without distorting the natural world, and they must perform specific roles within the Gods’ creation to avoid their power from driving them insane.”

“I like the Maytoni, Evey. You’re welcoming, honest, progressive people.”

“For the most part, anyway.”

“But I’m not sold on your beliefs.”

In an odd way, Luci was disappointed they hadn’t encountered any cyclops. But Evander had his own feelings on the absence.

“Something other than our new pal, Alvaro, has pushed the beasties back…” He sounded hopeful.

They moved through the deathly quiet of the forest. With the dank, brown pines littering the ground, even their footsteps failed to make any noise. Not a treecreeper, or a squirrel was to be seen, and there was a disturbing absence of badger sets, and fox dens.

Then something odd disrupted the stagnant air. Luci couldn’t identify it specifically, but she knew then, they were being stalked. She was ahead of Evey by a few paces, and stopped, giving him a look. They crouched and moved closer, Evander looking about for the threat.

 “We’re being followed,” Luci whispered, not bothering to look. Whoever they were, where too far away to be sighted. Evander stayed quiet, waiting for more information, though didn’t seem surprised. “Not cyclops… Not nearly sickening enough a scent.”

“You can smell our pursuers?”

“A finely tuned survival trait from my days in the arenas. When the braziers went out you had to develop stronger eyesight, and a sharper sense of smell…”

Evander looked sympathetic. “What are we talking?”

“Half a dozen.”

“We should move to a better position,” he whispered, sniffing at the air and looking confused.

“Just leave it, Maytoni. Come on.”

They moved cautiously through the grasping branches and prickly pines towards a mound of rock, breaching the ground like a boil. It was a smooth, lichen covered rise, and the pair ascended to its apex, twenty feet high, with ease. There they lay on their backs, with arrows nocked. Even the sun was receding, and whole environment reminded Luci of her time hunting the Dominator. Everything about this place seemed to leach into the gloom.

Within the breeze, weak as it was, the scent was increasing. It was time to set things up. She passed Orion’s bow to Evey.

“Take it. If they’re wearing wraith armour, the Dominator elements I’ve added will cowl their unnatural guardians.”

“I think the Death God made the Dominator to make sure we didn’t get out of hand… I bet even Wrath would think twice before hunting one.”

“He’s the one who tried his hand at a phoenix, right?”

“Yep.”

“Twat.”  They smirked at one and other, then Luci rose gingerly and made off over the edge of the mound.

“Just what are you doing?”

“Trust me. I’ve got a plan.”

In the grim dusk, they found the patrol.

Aldwin winced as he caught the tinge of blood in the air, layered with the pang of excrement and rot.

“Looks more like an animal attack.” From behind him Amdt Aakster stepped slowly into the scene. The expedition manager for the Flint Castle had been an instrumental asset thus far. He followed the hunter through the scene, over the lumps of meat and gristle, past a severed arm. On a large mound of rock, smeared in large letters were the words, ‘We’re the hunters here’.

“So, what did this…?” Aldwin said, almost reverentially.

A gassy hiss of laughter broke from Amdt. Without turning from the message he spoke, knowingly and with amusement, “A bear… A bear that wears the skins of other bears.”

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