Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Short Story: The Hunter

The trees rustled as he passed, the air displaced as he moved displacing them also.  The vines, normally so aggressive, drew to the sides of the path.  They sought easier prey for their snares, a rabbit or a goat perhaps.  A bird squawked in the distance, whether from victorious joy or despair at its own mortality made no difference to him, only that it would not be hunting.  On Anatolia, you learned young that little else mattered.
He had caught the scent four days prior.  It was distinctive, and telling.  Too much soap meant they were off-worlders.  Were it not for that, the smell of tea would have been enough.  One was a man, the other a woman; there was no word for the difference.  Those who wrote dictionaries did not need to smell the difference; to them it was simply apparent.  The girl was younger, but not by too much.  There was no blood though; that was unusual even for a local.  Injury was a fact of life in the shade-wastes.  Coupled with the way the corpses that trailed behind them felt, he could be certain that they were powerful mages; likely the strongest anyone in the Ankra briars had ever encountered in his lifetime.  Indeed, they may have been the strongest the planet had seen since the day of ruin.  
Ohgar was cautious.  It would take patience and cunning to get close enough to determine their names.  But if he could determine their names, then the clan would be able to command them against their enemies.  And he was Ohgar, who had dominated Aren, the bloodthirsty; Ohgar, who had stood against the Jan-Tat clan with only his spear.  If anyone could command these off-worlders, it would be him.  He slipped through the brush and climbed into the Nautin tree, caressing the spines of its leaves to soothe its fury as his father had taught him.  He leaned across the path and waited for them to pass, letting the roiling thicket conceal him and his thoughts.  
"Quite a change after Skiing on Nepalya.  How's the leg?"  The man wore a long sleeve shirt, it had stayed pressed and even despite the efforts of the local flora, and his boots were stiff and tall.  
"Its fine, just a little sore."  The girl was clothed like one of the Mountain Clan, her body wrapped in the soft-strong armor they wore.  And Ohgar had to clutch at his stomach to control the nauseating pain that the smell of her right glove's enchantments was giving him.  It was blood, bone, and the unnatural pure from the heart of the steps of the ruins.  It was like the smell of death, but with all the spirits exorcised from it.  Like life, but cleansed of those things that made it worth living.  The smell was pure, and its very presence stung his mind.  
"So you do this every year?"
"Someone very important died here, on the steps of her favorite part of the palace.  Its the only part that still stands."  She paused, though he could still hear them walking.  "Its the only part of the planet that they couldn't touch.  She actually moved one of the stone circles here to help protect it."
"What do you think she kept there?"
"She created two things that could not be.  You've already met Petra, and Koren isn't likely to share the Omnipedia; everything else she just collected."
"Rea, that wasn't really an answer."
There was one.  And the first thing he'd do was force her to take off that cursed gauntlet and throw it into the bright place.  
"Just look at it, what do you think she kept there?"
They were both quiet.  They faced the bright place; the point hovering above the heart of the Briar.  It was not far above them, it could be reached with an unaided jump.  But none dared touch it; its very presence held back the thicket, and no beast could stand to be too close to it.  They said it was a place the spirits feared to go.  And Ohgar was inclined to agree with them.  
"I'm gonna go with books.  Seems like she liked books an awful lot."  
"I think most of the truly powerful like books.  Even I sometimes get the urge to go on a bit of a reading binge."
"Tabloids don't count."
"I know, that's why I said 'binge'"
"So you just come and pay your respects to her?"
"Not her.  There's someone else, someone buried in the Library."
"Your brother?"
"Him?  No, he was buried on top of a mountain.  They used to have a whole little tourist industry around his tomb, history majors still visit it sometimes.  If they're rich and can afford bodyguards that is.  No, the man in the library is...well, I'd have liked to introduce you to him in better circumstances.  I think he'd have really liked you."
"You mean?"  There was silence.  The female, Rea, must have made some sort of gesture because it was the man who offered a response.  "He's already better than my last girlfriend's father.  He hasn't tried to kill me yet."
"Wait, you said...Krell, did you just say I was your girlfriend?"
The second name.  Ohgar carved them into his mind and dropped from his perch.  
"I, Ohgar Briarlord, command the mages Rea and Krell to obey me.  In the name of Acrun, Zaethos, and Merciless Vex; do my bidding!"
He could feel the fire course through his nerves.  The skin flared and burned.  He tasted sulfur.  And the last thing Ohgar heard was the voice of the man, not even bothered by the mention of the dark trinity, as he spoke  "Touch of Ash".    

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