At home, the two sit before the crackling fireplace. Eska rests her injured ankle on a small stool while Oblea prepares something warm for them to drink.
Returning with two steaming cups, Oblea hands one to Eska before settling into a wooden chair padded with a few worn cushions.
Eska stares at the swirling steam rising from her cup, lost in thought.
Oblea asks, studying her expression. "You're still thinking about the boar, aren't you?"
Eska nods, her voice subdued.
"You make it look so easy." Oblea raises an eyebrow, puzzled. "Easy? Hunting?" she asks.
"Killing something bigger than you with a knife, or a bow, or… anything,"
Eska says quietly, disappointed at her own skills. Oblea leans back in her chair, her gaze softening.
Eska chuckles a bit. "It only looks easy because I've spent over thirty years honing my skills. You've got what—a year of trapping and luring animals?" she says with a small smile.
Eska pouts, her frustration bubbling up. "Well, you won't let me do anything else."
Oblea sighs, taking a sip of her drink. "And look what happened today, Eska. Hunting isn't something you just pick up like everything else. Knowing a boar can kill you is not the same as just avoiding poison herbs. You need to learn from a distance before facing something that's ready to kill you."
"I just want to do what you do," Eska mumbles, taking a tentative sip of her drink. Her face contorts immediately, her tongue sticking out in disgust. "Eugh!" she exclaims.
"Drink it," Oblea says firmly, not even glancing her way. "It's good for you."
"It tastes like putrid mushrooms!" Eska cries, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You didn't…"
Oblea smirks. "Oh, I did. And I told you when I taught you about them: 'They might taste bad, but they'll help heal wounds, like a twisted ankle.'" She finishes with pride, quoting herself verbatim.
Eska groans, reluctantly taking another sip as she pouts. After a brief silence, she asks, "How did you become a hunter then?"
Oblea sighs deeply, taking another sip from her drink before setting it down.
"Well," Oblea begins, "a teacher chooses an aspiring hunter and starts with a test—a small hunt with the teacher present, of course. They observe the prospect's skills during the hunt, and if the teacher approves, they take the student under their wing."
Eska raises her finger with a smile but Oblea cuts her off.
"Once the apprentice begins, they spend a few years learning the basics. During that time, they're given a bow and dagger to care for—tools they must learn to depend on. The master hunter then brings the student along on hunts, starting with smaller prey and eventually working up to more dangerous challenges."
Eska lowers her finger slowly, realization dawning on her.
"And after years of training," Oblea continues, "the master allows the student to take the ritual of passage. The student must hunt an animal chosen by their teacher, one that reflects the lesson they want the student to learn."
Eska thinks for a moment, then blurts out, "Why does it take so long to become a hunter? Isn't it just… killing animals for materials?"
Oblea gives her a knowing look. "Because it's not just about the animals, Eska. Hunters have to deal with monsters too. Whether avoiding hot zones for smaller hunts or taking jobs to eliminate them, they need to be prepared. Monsters can be powerful enough to wipe out entire teams of experienced hunters if underestimated."
She watches Eska's mix of fear and curiosity. "We're not the only hunters out there," she says firmly.
A few moments of silence pass before Eska can no longer contain herself. "What did your teacher have you hunt? What did he want you to learn?"
"A Starlight Stag," Oblea replies, shaking her head with a faint smirk. "The bastard really made me work for it. Apparently the lesson he wanted me to learn was 'Patience'. The lier."
Eska tilts her head, her curiosity piqued. "What's that? You've never told me about those before." Oblea smiles faintly. "That's because they're extremely rare. They don't have a particular season or habitat where they're abundant. They're some of the rarest creatures around."
Oblea exhales sharply through her nose and rubs the back of her neck
Eska's eyes light up with excitement and Oblea notices the familiar spark. She continues, knowing she has her full attention.
"They look like a normal stag at first, but their fur is... different. It's dark—black, almost—but shifts to reflect colors like blue and purple when you move. It's mesmerizing, almost like looking at the night sky."
Standing, Oblea walks closer to the fire. She stirs the flames with a poker. "It's a beautiful animal. I haven't seen one since that hunt and sometimes I regret killing it for the test."
Eska leans forward, engrossed. "If it's so rare, why would your teacher send you to kill one?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.
"The real reason is the stag is more than an animal," Oblea explains. "It's a symbol—of the student's growth and the teacher's guidance. Hunting it isn't just a test of skill but a reflection of skill. To be able to track one alone is already an incredible feat." She pauses, watching the fire dance.
"And," she adds, turning back to Eska, "its leather and horns are prized materials. They're incredibly durable and retain their shine forever—if crafted properly, of course."
"How long did it take you to find one?" Eska asks, taking a sip of her drink.
Her face immediately scrunches as the taste hits her again, though she's too interested in Oblea's answer to complain.
"It took me five months just to track one down," Oblea begins, leaning back in her chair. "And then another month of constantly spooking it. Those creatures are unbelievably good at spotting danger."
She lets out a short laugh. "It was hellish. At one point, I started wondering if my teacher had sent me on this hunt just to make sure I didn't come back."
"He didn't want you back?" Eska's brow furrows in worry.
Oblea shakes her head with a faint smile.
"I wasn't exactly the most disciplined student. I had a habit of charging straight at animals, thinking I could just handle them with my knife."
She chuckles softly, rubbing her temples as if recalling the frustration. "The bow? Oh, I hated it. Too slow for me, or so I thought. I ended up ruining a lot of hunts, either scaring off the animal or damaging their coats beyond use."
Eska giggles, imagining a younger Oblea chasing animals with wild determination.
"There was this one time," Oblea begins, her tone shifting to a playful recount. "I dropped down onto a boar from a tree. Brave, right? Except I missed the kill shot and that boar bolted through our camp with me clinging to its back for dear life."
Eska gasps, eyes wide with delight. "What happened?"
"I finally managed to plunge the knife in after it tore through half the camp. Broke a few tents, scattered supplies everywhere."
Oblea shakes her head, her grin widening. "My teacher was furious, but I've never seen a group of hunters laugh harder in my life."
Oblea stretches her arms above her head, the flickering light of the fire catching on her smile. "Alright, enough stories for one night," she says, pushing herself to stand. "You need to rest that ankle if you want to heal properly. Tomorrow's going to come sooner than you think."
Eska pouts but doesn't argue, adjusting her leg on the cushion. "Fine, but next time, tell me more about the Starlight Stag," she insists, her tone carrying both curiosity and stubbornness.
Oblea chuckles. "Deal, but now I have got to go back and bring in the boars we hunted earlier. Can't let good meat go to waste."
She pats Eska's head lightly on her way out, her voice softening. "Rest up, kid. You'll need your strength if you want to be ready for the next lesson."
With that, she opens the door and steps into the cool night, the quiet closing in behind her as Eska leans back, her eyelids already growing heavy.