The sun was already setting when we came back to the village. Though it had been a few hours since our 'hunt' began, I wasn't expecting the village to change much.
Yet, as we exited the tree line with boar corpses in tow, tied with rope from the grapples and some thick vines from nearby trees, we were greeted by the dazzling sparkle of torches and candles. The village shone an orange hue against an otherwise pale dark sky with few stars in view.
If only we weren't dragging a bunch of dead boars towards it looking as if we just murdered an entire family in cold blood. Though technically we did.
It took us a while to sort out which boars to bring back to the village. A large proportion of the boars, which were birthed by the boar queen, died in or around the clearing where we initially found them. Thankfully, none of the corpses were tainted by the touch of dark magic since the fighting took place elsewhere away. It was a relief to Gallant and Valiant who, surprisingly, asked me to inspect the corpses one by one to determine which was safest.
I did as they asked, content that none of the brothers were bothering me with more questions I wasn't comfortable in answering. Though how could I blame them? I did feats which, to their eyes, should have been impossible. Unless I was some sort of great adventurer or martial artist.
The strength I displayed was enough? or maybe lacking. The fight with the queen boar could have gone better, especially if I had just used my magic. But alas, the beastkin seemed to despise the ultimate power which governed the world and its ways.
Martial prowess wasn't anything to scoff at. Only a fool would do so. In the many battles I had observed, wherein I was nothing but a mere spectator, or was otherwise powerless to influence its outcome, swords and spears often dealt the decisive and final blows.
But wars? Wars were ended by great magicians and their magic. Wizards, sorcerers, witches, and mages. Powerful people granted gifts and talents enough to mold the destiny of an entire region, or even that of a continent.
And that was the problem, these people became too powerful. Too greedy. Too hungry. The world almost broke under their weight.
I would have been no different if not for the connections I forged. But the gods...
I shook my thoughts away.
Those threads were now long gone.
And yet?
Here I was, thousands of years later, walking between fields of harvest, towards a village of beastkin I didn't know existed until just recently.
As we made our way to the open gates between the palisades, we were greeted by the chief and a few other beastkin. They were all dressed for the occasion, wearing faded colorful tunics and dresses. Simple and ragged, but a modest effort nonetheless.
I wish I could say the same about the two brothers. Gallant, despite his red fur, was still obviously covered in blood. The wounds on his skin, however, were less noticeable, hidden by the fur. Valiant was the same, though his was a bit worse given his way of fighting, and the fact that he was blue.
I, on the other hand, had the unfair advantage of having a constant yet mild protection spell hovering over my skin. Ever since the fight with the abomination, I made it a necessity that a protection spell was cast one at all times. The one I cast for now was mild, the weakest I believe. Enough to repel dirt and water, but not enough to block out strikes.
In other words, it was meant to blunt any attack before it connected with my body. Though seeing that I was cleaner than the brothers may have raised some eyebrows.
The sound of busy steps, loud conversations, and drumming filled my ears. I could already see the tables set up around the village well at the center, young and old beastkin alike were gathered round.
"I assume it was an eventful hunt?" The chief asked, gazing at the brothers and me before looking at the corpses we had in tow. The fact that he was still hunching forward irked me.
"Verily so, dear chieftain," Valiant said as he made one last pull against his rope, "We brought bounty and prizes, enough for the feast and the coming nights."
"I was wondering why you were taking so long." The chief said, somewhat amused at the sight of our plight. Well, their plight.
"Is that...?" One of the beastkin muttered to another as a massive tusk came into view, tucked between the corpses.
"The tusk of a queen boar!" The chief said with surprise, "This early in the season? No wonder it took you boys and Mr. Viduri so long."
Valiant shook his head, "It wasn't taken without a fight," Suddenly, the expression of the chief changed to that of worry, "It stood up and attacked us."
"Magic then?" The chief asked with cold haste.
"Vile magic." Valiant answered.
The chief was silent for a moment before quickly regaining his smile.
"What matters is all of you returned alive," He said, "Now come. Let us begin the roasts!"
The other beastkin immediately set upon untying the boars and the tusk, relieving the brothers and I of our burdens.
The brothers excused themselves right after to clean and change their clothes. Good decision. They were beginning to smell like the corpses we just spent the entire afternoon dragging.
I should have considered casting a water spell on them and excused it as rain. It would have at least cleaned them up a bit.
Before I could pass the wooden gates and enter the village however, the chief pulled me aside for a talk.
"You are a person of mystery, Mr. Viduri." He said. Though he was trying to hide it, I still felt the weariness in his tone.
"Every person has their secrets. You have yours. I have mine." I replied. Cold. We were both liars, pretending otherwise was just courtesy.
He seemed taken aback by my response. What was he expecting? I was here merely by necessity, necessity in the sense that I believed tagging along with the adventurers was the ideal step forward. I needed to rediscover the world, gather information, and pinpoint what, where, and when I must strike.
This village and its people were just mere steppingstones for my journey.
A dark shadow was once again looming over the world. It struck first, stealing away the lives of my children, and almost killing me. It was only right for me to strike back.
To strike hard.
"Your adventurer friends are helping with the preparations," The chief said, changing the conversation, "You may join them in a moment. But I must ask you a question first, if you don't mind."
If he only had a question, he should've started with that. I was in no mood for useless conversation. I already had a lot to think about.
"Ask."
"Are you not a magician?" He asked.
I frowned. How did he know?