Four harsh winters pass since Oblea and Marina struck their uneasy agreement. In that time, Eska has grown stronger, sharper and more skilled under their combined guidance.
Now, she crouches in the shadows of the forest. Her bow steady in hand, in the midst of her first true hunt. Her yellow eyes piercing the darkness around her
Her gaze fixed on a figure in the distance.
The creature's fur shifts colors, almost like a mirage, transitioning between shades of black and dark blue. It stands tall, well past her height at around five feet.
With a smooth and carefully slow motion, Eska rises to her feet on the branch, draws her bow and lets the arrow fly.
A sharp cry echoes through the forest, followed by the sound of frantic steps rushing away.
Eska leaps from the tree, her feet hitting the ground with practiced ease as she sprints after the creature.
The creature is visibly exhausted. With her speed alone, she closes the distance in moments.
She draws her knife and in a single swift motion, stabs the animal's neck before slowing down her pace.
The creature stumbles forward, blood pouring from the wound, before crashing to the ground with a heavy thud not far ahead. Eska calmly wipes her knife clean and slides it back into its scabbard.
She walks toward the fallen creature with measured steps.
The beast resembles an elk. Its fur shimmers like a starry sky, shifting between black and deep blue. Its short snout and pitch-black eyes give it an otherworldly presence, while its divided hooves split into nine distinct sections.
The horns curve back from its head in smooth lines, almost perfectly straight before angling outward. They are an intense black, so dark they seem to absorb light, giving the eerie impression they could swallow anything that touched them.
Eska studies the creature in silence, running her fingers through its fur and horns.
Satisfied, she wipes the arrow with a piece of cloth before carefully placing it back into her quiver.
She brings out her knife while looking at the massive creature at her feet.
She whispers to herself. "I can't bring this whole thing back."
Eska kneels beside the fallen stag, her knife glinting in the fading light as she begins to skin the animal. With practiced precision, her knife glides along the edges to separate the shimmering hide without damaging it.
She sets the fur aside, then saws through the base of the horns, prying them free with a few determined pulls. Finally, she carves out choice cuts of meat, placing them neatly in a cloth to carry back for cooking and preserving.
Eska carefully packs the stag's hide, horns and meat into her bag, ensuring everything fits securely.
With her work complete, she hoists the pack onto her back. She takes a final glance at the elk before heading out, her steps steady as she makes her way back home.
She walks for hours but finally the forest gives way to a large clearing by the river, where a two-story house built from sturdy wooden logs stands tall.
The river is spanned by a curved bridge, its construction adding a sense of permanence to their home. Eska walks towards a patch of dirt in front of the house, passing a thriving garden of fruits and vegetables on her way.
Oblea tends to the garden. She slowly stands, turning towards Eska as she approaches. Eska notices Oblea's smile turn serious before she turns.
"You found it—the Starlight Stag," Oblea says with a hint of pride. "How long has it been?"
"About three weeks," Eska replies, her voice steady.
Oblea laughs, a rare sound and wipes a tear from her eye.
"It took me half a year to find one and you managed it in three weeks." She pauses, her expression softening before adding, "I am proud of you, Eska."
Eska's eyes light up and she eagerly asks, "So can I—" but Oblea cuts her off with firm words.
"I'll teach you."
Eska jumps with excitement, her enthusiasm near impossible to contain.
Oblea smiles and adds, "Now come inside. It's been a while since I've seen you—I want to hear everything you saw."
As they step inside, the warmth of the home welcomes them and they settle by the fire.
Eska excitedly recounts her journey, every detail spilling out as Oblea listens with a fond smile. When it's time for bed, Eska lies awake for a while, her mind racing with thoughts of the magic she'll learn the next day, her excitement barely contained.
The next day, after a full day of rest, Oblea and Eska stand outside in the clearing. Eska looks ready, her excitement replaced with focus as she anticipates what's to come.
Oblea's demeanor is more serious than usual, her tone firm as she begins the lesson.
"What I'm about to teach you is magic—control over nature itself," Oblea explains, her voice low and deliberate. "This is dangerous, Eska. You must do exactly as I say or you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Magic has the power to erase anything in an instant."
Eska glances around, then lowers her gaze to the ground, her nerves beginning to show. "I'll do my best," she says quietly.
Oblea nods but doesn't soften her tone.
"Your magic is forbidden outside of just the two of us," Oblea continues, her voice carrying an edge of warning. "If you use this power in front of anyone else, you will mark yourself as a target. Do you understand?"
Eska stiffens slightly and asks, "You mean the church?"
Oblea nods, her expression serious. "Yes. I've taught you enough about the outside world because I want you to understand this moment. You're about to cross a line that few, if any, ever reach. I've given you discipline, combat skills and knowledge—everything to prepare you for this."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing. "Remember, everything is chaos until it is understood. Then it becomes order."
Eska takes a deep breath, her gaze steady and nods.
Oblea continues. "Now then, Eska. Give me your hand," Oblea commands. Eska hesitates, startled, but extends her hand. Without warning, Oblea takes her knife and swiftly slices across Eska's palm.
Eska's eyes widen as she feels the sharp sting and her blood begins to flow, the sensation is uncomfortable but not unbearable.
She looks at Oblea, surprised but calm, saying nothing. Oblea holds her hand firmly and speaks, her tone unyielding.
"Most people are born with the ability to control one element naturally. The rest can only be controlled through chanting," Oblea explains.
Eska listens intently, absorbing every word.
The lesson continues. "But controlling the elements always comes with a price, Blood. Magic uses the user's blood to manifest. The more blood you offer, the more powerful the spell will be."
Oblea continues speaking, her voice steady as Eska's blood pools in her hand.
"You don't have an element. Most people manifest their element by the time they're ten years old, but this all changes with Bloodcraft."
Eska looks confused, glancing at the blood on her hand. Oblea's voice grows heavier.
"When you were a baby, your magic manifested when you were on the verge of dying."
Eska raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "When you found me?" she asks. Oblea nods solemnly. "When I first saw you, I couldn't believe it. None of us could. A magic expert gave us his verdict: your magic is heretical—deemed a crime by the church. Those with your ability are executed."
Eska nods slowly, her understanding deepened by the lessons Oblea had drilled into her over the years.
The church, its laws and its brutal methods now made perfect sense.
Oblea meets her gaze.
"Bloodcraft—the control of one's blood. There's no record of how to cast it or control it. Starting today, you'll learn to master it on your own."
Oblea releases Eska's hand, her tone softening slightly. "Every element is different," she continues. "Mine is Wind." She stands back, her watchful eyes studying Eska's reaction.
Oblea raises her hands and a light breeze stirs to life around her. Leaves and dirt lift gently, swirling in a small circle before settling back to the ground as she lowers her hands.
"When I started learning," Oblea says, "I pictured myself pulling or pushing it. I've heard similar things about other elements, so we'll begin there."
Eska listens closely, her curiosity growing.
Oblea instructs her. "Close your eyes, focus on what you are trying to do. Visualize it. There is no rush."
Eska obeys, standing in the middle of the clearing, far enough from the house to avoid any damage. As she listens to the faint breeze from the trees, her thoughts fade, leaving only calm focus.
Minutes pass in silence. Eska holds out her hand and the blood pooling in her palm begins to tremble faintly. Oblea watches carefully from a distance, her voice steady but encouraging. "Slowly. There's no need to hurry."
Hours slip by, but all Eska can manage are a few faint vibrations in the blood. Frustration builds in her chest, tightening with every failed attempt.
"I don't understand!" she shouts, her voice breaking the silence as she clenches her fist. In that instant, the blood surges uncontrollably, shooting upwards and downwards, solidifying into a sharp blade.
The force pierces straight through her palm, the crimson edge extending far beyond her outstretched hand.
Eska gasps in pain, her eyes snapping open as she stares at the blade of blood protruding from her hand. The shock freezes her in place for a moment, her mind racing to process what just happened.
Oblea rushes to her side, holding her wrist in place and embracing her with her arm.
"Calm yourself. Focus. If you rush you'll only make it worse."
Panic rises, but she forces herself to calm down. She breathes deep and exhales slowly.
She focuses on the sensation in her hand, imagining the blade softening, melting away. The crimson edge begins to shimmer, its sharp form quivering before dissolving into liquid.
With a wet splash, the blood releases from her hand and falls to the ground. Eska exhales in relief, clutching her palm as the pain lingers, but a faint smile creeps onto her face—she did it.