Scene Three: Hunters
...Of Act Three: Trickster
In the eyes of Ryoku Dragontalen, we are in
Werewolf Camp Gaevrel, in the world of Lysvid.
It is early afternoon
On November 7th, 2017.
"You ready, kid?"
I nodded confidently. On the inside, though, I wasn't sure. Killing one Warg in the city was a daunting task. Loki assured us that werewolves weren't quite as tough, but still… we were about to attack a village full of them.
Sira grinned in response, stuffing away the cloth she used to polish Sinistra. She wore new clothes apparently more suitable for werewolf hunting. Whenever she wasn't looking, I admired her in them. Any pants less baggy than the kind she preferred would help emphasize her shapely hips and bottom. These ones flared out around the ankles in an Asian flair. Oddly, she also donned a hair band similar to Lusari's style, and it helped emphasize the attractive curve to her cheekbones. If she ever saw me staring, she didn't remark on it. She seemed a little less surly than usual.
Lusari charged her staff up nearby, speaking in some archaic tongue that made a blue light climb through the runes on her staff. The normally shy girl had donned a sexy style of skirt cut shorter at the front and long at the back, paired with calf-high boots of dark leather. She swapped out her bright, low-cut shirt for a black dress-shirt with wide, lacy cuffs on the sleeves. I couldn't tell if she was trying to act more as a fake alias in Lysvid, or if this was just an augment to her style. Either way, it took work to avert my gaze.
The girls weren't the only ones outfitted in new styles. It was the first time I'd seen Will willingly put away his Syaoto armor, something that must have been tipping others off to his origins. Instead, he found a similar style of armor decorated in ivory, complete with a long-sleeved black shirt and black pants beneath. He looked as though he'd been reborn as a vampiric soldier.
Sira stayed with Lusari and me. I guessed she didn't care much for their plans. If I knew Sira at all, she preferred to rush in with Sinistra and cut down anything that moved. Two other groups of similar sizes crouched elsewhere in the brush, each about ten strong.
Our group consisted of us, Cleria, and four other vampires – two males, two females. The males appeared annoyed by our company, but the females just stayed near Cleria, who dressed the same way as she did back in the city. The men carried weapons, but the girls seemed deadlier with their claws. I thought the long claws could be brittle, but Loki professed otherwise. Apparently, they were as sturdy and sharp as bones.
Loki described vampires as 'the perfect predator.' Both males and females were sturdy as rocks, though females appeared softer to the touch. The lack of blood flowing through their system left their bodies cold and desolate. In its place flowed vampiric venom, a toxic, poisonous life force. Loki claimed the venom came from an ancient magic long ago. It fed off the blood that vampires so lustily pursued, but, in turn, reinforced their entire bodies in a way human blood could never achieve. Their muscles and veins swelled doubly, offering them immense strength and affected every muscle's abilities. Their legs grew faster, their hearts more durable, their lungs capable of their extreme feats. Even their brains took on effects from the venom, making them smarter and able to think on their feet. The combination made them incredibly fearsome predators.
Of course, they weren't completely immortal, but not in the ways my world believed. Garlic was useless against them; a stake to the heart would simply shatter; they didn't particularly like sunlight, but it didn't cause them to melt or set aflame. No. According to Loki, there were three ways to kill a vampire: to poison blood they took in, to prevent them from taking blood, or the bite of a werewolf, their natural predator.
Werewolves were much simpler to understand. The Lycanthrope virus wasn't quite like vampiric venom. In fact, it seemed to have more earnest roots. Vampires descended from elves long ago that chose to dabble in blood magic. In tandem, werewolves were their natural predator. Men who became werewolves initially accepted the role of an animal spirit. It took their bodies during moonlight, offering them animalistic strength and senses to rival the vampire. They might live around two hundred years or more, depending on how they lived their lives, and were killable in combat. In truth, I was glad circumstances chose us the easier foe.
A hand caused me to jump. "Quit zoning out." Sira's words cut through my thoughts like a hot knife, and I reflexively winced. If she noticed, she didn't comment. "We're your Guardians, but our abilities are limited if you space the hell out all the time. Focus."
I gave her a sheepish smile. For a moment, I thought her stern scowl might ebb away into a smile, too.
"I'm ready," Lusari whispered, loud enough for Will to hear at the edge of the main group nearby. The soldier nodded and stood with the others. The four vampires looked us over curiously, though with measured distaste. No doubt, they were unhappy to be around us.
"Got it. Everyone else?" Will asked quietly.
We all stood in silent reply, and everyone merged together at the edge of the brush overlooking the camp. Loki returned through the edge of the field. His guise was in a completely different field than the others, and he might never have gotten away with it if he hadn't spilled the beans on who he was. I was sure he'd somehow seen the old Dracula movies from my world, or else he was terribly racist. He'd gone off with the quartermaster and returned in a white ruffled dress-shirt – the collar popped, of course – and tight-fitting black pants. If that getup wasn't already concerning, he later added a short red and black cape to pin to his shoulders. Pretty sure he was wearing fake fangs, too. He might pretend it was some kind of illusion to fool the wolves, but I wouldn't take the bait.
He greeted me with an unnecessary friendly shove. "Ready, Ronyx?" he asked, his silvery tongue making easy work of my alias. Something about my expression made his smirk slip. "Worry not – I won't let them harm you. You have ample protection here, my fair-haired friend."
I gave him a tepid stare, but he smiled like I told him he was my hero.
"What did you see out there?" one of the vampires asked Loki.
The Trickster smiled. "Fear not – there's little of them from what I can tell. Perhaps thirty or less. All holed up in muddy shacks along the swamp-front. I'd guess at more, but somehow I doubt they comprehend living underground or in tree lofts – mitts cannot be useful for such things. Their ruddy shacks, bridges, and whatnot should fall to but a single sword strike. If you ask me, our work's cut out for us."
"They've surprised us before, old man," Cleria warned. "Were the torches lit?"
"What?" Loki frowned, puzzled. He temporarily lost his composure at Cleria's nickname for him, but he composed himself before eyes turned to him. "Perhaps. Well, yes. Most of them."
One of the males growled. "Then they know we're coming. Damn it. I'd bet my fangs the elf let slip our little plan."
"Then you would lose your fangs," Loki replied like a gunshot, turning on the vampire with an emerald-eyed glare. "He's with us – do you want our help or not?"
Before the vampire could advance on Loki, Cleria let out a low, inconspicuous call resembling something like an owl. It stopped the vampire. Around us, I heard the other companies coming in to surround us.
"Of course they're wary, you nitwit. We're at war with their kind, remember?" She growled under her voice and rose to her full height, addressing the entirety of our hunting group in a low voice. "We're ready. Split up – we'll tackle them on all sides. Vallous, you take the north. Greil, east. We'll handle the west. We surround them and press them against the southern marshland. Greil, your group will take out the bridges spanning the bank, trapping them on our side."
The confirmation was merely both parties taking off into the woods. We rounded up our group and readied ourselves. Will appeared at my shoulder with a brave smile.
"Fear not, my friend. You have the lot of us here to protect you. You remain quite the amateur. None expect you to fight alone. If we are to gamble against luck, we may yet outnumber this pack of wolves."
"So we'll surely be outnumbered ten to one." I rolled my eyes. Our luck was not quite something I'd place bets on.
"I would not toss us to the wind just yet," Will told me with some confidence. "These are not the seasoned warrior Wargs we faced in the city – these are starved wolves, forced to live in unwholesome conditions in a world alien to their race. Victory will surely find us."
I felt a sudden and strong empathy for the wolves. They really didn't belong here, did they?
Will saw the look in my eyes. "I do not disagree."
We didn't need to speak. It was one thing to defeat a group of thugs intent on raping a young girl. Even the raiders in the Old Forest weren't entirely evil or set against violence on purpose. Even though these wolves couldn't walk as humans here, there remained that aspect to them. They were just humans stuck in the bodies of wolves, forced back into swamps and woods while vampires prospered. Neither had exactly been friendly to us so far – we'd fought a few stray wolves along the way – but I found myself sympathizing with the wolves. Still, we might never find other work here among their kind, and it had jumped out at us. Our stores from Harohto would only last so long.
We rose to a crouch and went to follow the others, Loki in the lead. The golden-haired Trickster caught my gaze and gave me a bold grin. We only locked eyes for a moment before something leapt upon him from behind, throwing him straight into me.
I tried to catch him, but my position and weight just brought both of us crashing to the ground and knocked the wind out of me. I caught the glimpse of a dark shape leaping over his shoulders. They found us first.
I heard the unmistakable swing of Sira's mighty weapon. The whisper of chilling ice crackled through the air. Will cried out, and I heard his gladius freed into the air.
Loki got to his feet in seconds, using me as a sort of landing board to push himself up. He landed easily on both feet behind the wolf, his silver blade already in hand. Cursing, I got to my feet and scrambled for my weapons.
Something slammed into me. Luckily, it hit my knife before it struck me, and a canine whimper nearly brought me to the ground with it. A rumbling, cold sense of dread thundered inside me. I'd just taken a life. I couldn't yank my knife free without twisting my arm beneath the wolf, so I lost my grip and stumbled back, bumping into something else. I spun around, scrambling for my bow or staff, but it was just Will.
"I do not take kindly to being trampled!" he declared jokingly. Even immersed in battle, his sense of humor never evaded him. Will already had a fine scrape down the edge of his cheek that made my stomach lurch. His lip hung in a pained grimace because of it. More than ever, I wish I could call myself professed in magic enough to heal my friend. It almost made me feel worse than taking lives.
The fight dissolved into a full-on brawl around me, the shouting of my friends and allies mixed with the pained, savage howling of wolves. I couldn't spot them in the dark, but I could hear them. Large forms streaked through the bushes so quickly that to blink might cost me my head. Sira led the charge, swinging her mighty Sinistra like an axe. Loki backed Lusari as she unleashed chilly bursts of ice over any opponent in sight. More than one frozen wolf hung in her tracks, crouched as if ready to break free and lunge. Loki buried his sword in one, and it fell in an avalanche of ice shards and blood.
A tough hand grabbed me, and suddenly I was bowling into Will again. My meager weight would never faze him. With alarming speed, he hurled me behind him and buried his lance through the skull of an incoming wolf – one that pounced where I'd just been standing. I flinched away from the gory sight. Was battle really a place for me?
"Draw your weapon!" Will ordered, shaking me around the shoulders. "What happened to your knife?"
"I—"
I didn't have time to explain. A wolf lunged from the shadows. Will met it mid-air and broke through it with his gladius, cleaving the beast from head to tail in a gory mess. Without meeting my glance, Will shoved an object into my hands. A dagger made of surprisingly heavy metal. The sheath was a clip, so I quickly attached it to my belt.
"I expect that back!" Will said, and turned on his heel to follow the others. I stole a quick glance around as I yanked the dagger out. Just as I turned, I spotted a smaller wolf, its fur jutting up from the brush like a coat of steel feathers. I barely held an advantage – it lunged, clearing the distance between us with a mighty leap.
Before my dagger could meet it, a silver sword shot out from the side, severing the beast with enough force to hurl it aside. Loki dragged his silver blade free with a heavy tug, and flashed me a grin like he was having the time of his life.
"A Guardian lives and dies for their Defender. Should you have to use that blade before you're ready, I'll have failed you."
"Loki, I already killed—"
He was gone, rushing ahead, leaving me to follow with my petty dagger. Luckily, nobody seemed to be around to hear him slip up from my alias.
Will and Sira battled a massive wolf ahead of me, one that made the others look shrimpy. This one had mangy, thick fur that hung off its skin in huge tufts. On its hind legs, the monster towered well over even Sira's head, but the two didn't cower.
Will ducked under a swipe of its giant claws, and Sira lunged, her blade streaking through the air like a bloody quarter moon. One of the nearby vampires buried its sword in the monster's thigh. It emitted a pained howl – awfully human sounding. At the same time, Will's lance and Sira's mighty sword swung for blood, and I flinched away in disgust.
Only my timely flinch found me face-to-face with another wolf. A mass of brown fur and golden eyes. It snarled like tearing cloth and flew into the open air between us, a mix of claws and fangs. I shoved my blade forward, but I already knew I was in harm's way. The full weight of the monster crashed into me, buckling my knees and forcing me to the ground with the monster atop me. Searing pain shot across my chest, followed by the smothering heat of the wolf's body.
Blood was everywhere. My blade found the wolf's heart, luckily, but it brought the limp beast down on me. In the moment, I couldn't imagine that this wolf used to be a human, or that it might shed its fur if the sun ever rose in Lysvid. To me, deep in the throes of pain, they were monsters once more.
I couldn't make a sound. Pain shook my entire body. My legs and chest ached horribly. Had my legs broken underneath me? Was the open wound in my chest the reason my vision swam like heat waves upon summer pavement?
"Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!"
Sira's string of curses was unmistakable, even as my ears felt like someone put them in a box far from my body. I heard her enraged growl of effort. Sira dragged the beast away with one arm, and hurled it like careless litter before stooping down next to me. I couldn't say what made her eyes so livid and beautiful at the same time, or whether it was a trick of the horrid feeling coursing through me. Her eyes landed on my chest, and I watched the color drain from her skin.
Then she was gone, and then dragging a distraught-looking Lusari into view. Lusari clambered atop me, and then my vision flickered. She had one hand on her staff, the other on my chest. The tips of her eyelashes glinted. Were those tears?
Her hand started to glow. The runes on her staff responded. I thought to question it, but I couldn't possibly. Were people able to channel magic through their hands normally? I focused so intently on that matter that I almost didn't feel the pain ebb away, or note how my vision straightened.
Lusari grabbed me by the collar and pressed herself against me. It was such an abrupt movement that I almost didn't catch her whisper through her strawberry-scented hair or the dusty odour I associated with magic.
"That's only battle healing. It's supposed to last until I can get a good look at you. So for the time being, try not to do anything dumb, okay?"
I could only nod. Even Lusari, the timid little mage from Harohto, seemed taken by a lust for battle. A husky undertone clung to her voice like blood in the grass. Such emotion wasn't something I expected from her, and it made the blood rush to my face.
She remained atop me, her face next to my ear and her measured breath dancing against the lobe. It took me a moment to realize she probably hadn't noticed my nod, so I murmured, "Yeah. I'll try."
Whether I was right or she'd just gotten distracted, Lusari drew away from me. The ice-elemental girl had a blush rising up in her cheeks when she rose, and she ducked away into the shadows. Sira reappeared where Lusari vanished, and stuck out a hand to me without looking.
As my thoughts started to culminate again, I was having about enough of looking like the weak link in the group. I pushed myself to my feet. In Sira's eyes, that was the right move. She looked a little stunned, but she flashed me a smile.
"Come on, moron. Or do you wanna get hurt again before we get into the stupid village?"
I rolled my eyes. We followed the others into the brush, and into the thick of battle.