The Huntress and the Beast

Ksulna knelt down on the damp forest floor and spread apart the brambles of a hexrose bush to reveal the torn, bloody fur of the beast; she raised it to her nose, staining red the leather of her gloves as she smelled the sanguine iron. Yes. Slowing her pace, her slender legs wandered gracefully through the underbrush, making scarcely a sound as she sniffed the air and tilted her ears to search for Kawak-Nakon in what she imagined would be its final resting place. Ten days of tracking through the Great Ironwood and several near-fatal encounters had led her to this place. The first days had been agony - seeking endlessly through the densest parts of the Ironwood, with only the ironbark-carvings of the ancient hunters to guide her; but on the sixth day she finally found her mark, and planted a buzzbarb on its back with her blowgun. The tiny, magical dart emitted a constant whine which had enabled her to easily track the beast, yet the creature itself could not hear. Ksulna was a huntress by trade, but this was no matter of business: this was a personal mission. She was interested in neither its pelt, nor meat, bone, or talon - no, only in its head, so that she might present it to the chieftain upon her return. At last, my debt shall be repaid.   As she moved through the wood, she picked up on the signatures of many creatures: a red squirrel, hiding in its burrow; a black-naped kildeer fostering its young by a quiet creek, 200 meters Northwest; a pair of skunks, scouring the branches above for an unattended nest; and finally, her prey, licking its wounds in a cave just over a nearby hill. Ksulna removed her cotton-wrap shoes and gently stomped the ground to determine the precise location, dimensions, and maximum depth of the cave. It was shallow and small, probably no more than an autumn dwelling. Still, it was possible she would be outnumbered. Ksulna felt the full weight of her decision in this moment. If she returned empty-handed, she would certainly be outcast, possibly sent out to the Isles. She was afraid, for she knew that even wounded, Kawak-Nakon would be a formidable foe; prepared as she was, she might not return. She was afraid that the beast was smarter than it let on, smarter than her even. It would not take long for the beast to notice her, and once it had, her stealth-training would mean nothing. She had only her senses to rely on, and so she was afraid. Fear is only bravery that has yet to come. She spoke a quick prayer to the God of Death, and removed an arrow from her quiver. It was finely crafted mahogany, whittled by a master fletcher and perfectly balanced with the feathers of the Kæa, an instrument of death in the purest sense. She plunged the head of the arrow forcefully into a nearby tree and snapped it off at the head. Venom for my foe - a pittance for my woe. A flash of red light captured her quiver, as rust-orange vines wrapped rapidly around her remaining arrows; her bowstring gleamed platinum as a dark web of midnight spread across her leather armor. Forgetting her fear, Ksulna mounted the hill and moved swiftly down the Northern side, the afternoon sun warming her dark skin as she rounded a small clearing to come to the entrance of the cave.   The earth by the cave's entrance was wet and muddy, difficult to gaze through with her tremorsense. Rotting flesh within the cave obscured her sense of smell. That could be Hsildán. She tried not to think of her lost kin as she nocked a viral arrow in her bow. With the right shot, an arrow like this could end a creature on its own, but placed incorrectly, it would send the beast into a deadly frenzy. It lay then in the middle of the cave, cleaning its matted, bloody fur with its great tongue. Absorbed by its affliction and confident in its supreme rule over the forest, it had not noticed her. Ksulna pulled the arrow back to her cheek and steadied her breath; hearing the light currents of the wind as it poured through the trees and into the clearing, she adjusted her aim slightly, pointing her weapon directly at the ignorant beast's brain. One shot. After that, the beast would be aware, and she could surprise it no more. One, two, three, four. At the end of her count, the guide-feathers brushed her face, and the string collided with her forearm as the arrow was ejected by the bow, and sailed through the air towards Kawak-Nakon. A stream of red, enchanting light followed as the arrow met its target.   Time slowed, and Ksulna felt as though her job was done. She watched as her missile, guided by zealous rage and a thirst for revenge, flew perfectly towards her target and lodged itself in the creature's skull. There was a brief silence, and then the earth shook as the monster let out a mighty roar; the arrow had found its mark, but had not struck deeply enough to reach the brain. Now, with the virus running through its blood, and an arrow sticking out above its eye, the beast leapt to its feet and charged Ksulna at the entrance of the cave. Such an animal would not normally come into broad daylight, but enraged as it was, the monster did not care. As it leapt over the huntress, its calloused, scaly wings unfurled, eclipsing the sun above her. Kawak-Nakon faced down Ksulna, who now had her back to the cave. Never had she felt so trapped. Fast as a wind-turret, Ksulna released two more arrows in the direction of the beast; both found their mark in its underbelly, but they did nothing to slow its rampage. The beast bound towards the huntress, lowering its mangled, bloodstained horns as they began to glow. Ksulna raised her buckler to meet the horns and attempted to parry the blow, but she was knocked off her feet as she met their full charging force, and launched backwards into the cave, landing in a deep pit of mud. Struggling to her feet as the beast readied another attack, she could feel that her shoulder had been dislocated, and a deep cut had appeared across her breast where her buckler had been knocked back into her. Adrenaline kept her up. Just before the beast could land another blow, the huntress spoke a short prayer to the Keeper and she was teleported just outside the cave, and out of the beast's path of destruction. Kawak-Nakon nearly slammed into the back wall of its dwelling, giving Ksulna enough time to land an arrow in its back. Knowing that it would charge again, she retracted her bow and unsheathed her fold-iron daggers from her bootstraps. The beast once again jumped into the air and soared to meet her, carried gracefully by its wings. Despite its wounds, it appeared no closer to death than she. Now, up close, she could see its heartbeat pulsing in the veins of its bloodshot eye, as if it were about to burst from its face. The beast raised its taloned claw and slashed towards her head; Ksulna ducked out of the way at the last instant and sliced the monster's underarm with both her daggers. Letting out a yelp of pain, it sent its mighty jaws at her side - the huntress danced to the left, but she could not avoid the strike, as black fangs pierced through her iron-studded leathers and tore at the skin beneath. She had moved quickly enough to avoid her immediate death, but she could feel venom coursing through her veins; this would have to end soon. As Kawak-Nakon recovered its stance, Ksulna leapt high into the air, her boots glowing softly as she sprung above the beast and attempted to mount it. Landing on its back, the huntress sank one of her daggers into the beast to steady herself; she gripped the handle with all of her strength as it kicked backwards and began beating its wings. The monster leapt straight up into the air, flying towards the sun, and Ksulna scarcely hung on, dangling from its back as she attempted to sink her other dagger into the hardened flesh of the creature. Her knife found purchase in the right shoulder-joint, which threw off the beast's balance and sent them both into a flying spiral towards the irontrees below. The huntress leapt off of her prey as it tumbled to the earth, but she no longer had the strength to make a clean landing. As her feet hit the ground, she rolled forward uncontrollably and her skull impacted on a rock.   Dizzied and severely concussed, she arose to find that the beast had made a softer landing than she and was hobbling at her with all its remaining strength. A stream rushed from her cracked forehead down her face, and she could taste the bitterness of her own blood as it ran across her lips. She knew her daggers were still embedded in its back, impeding its movement, but she also knew that both of them stood now before Death's door. Speaking a prayer of haste, she gripped her rune-pouch softly at her belt and brought the heels of her boots together. Reinvigorated, the pain which screamed across her body was dulled and she drew her bow once more. The beast approached her carefully, slowly enough for her to nock another arrow and aim at its skull. The two stood still in the clearing, their feet sinking in the mud, splashed red with their blood. The forest around them grew completely silent as their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. Kawak-Nakon knew that it could run no longer; Ksulna felt the same. In that moment, the two were evenly matched, no longer hunter and hunted, but two agents of Death, equal in every right.  

The stars shall be, the earth and the trees; though Death may come, through him is me.

  The beast reared, and as it raised its unholy figure, a hellish glow surrounded it and it lowered its hideous head to the earth. The air went cold, and Ksulna felt the shadow of Death approach her as she stared down the points of the monster's knotted horns. The huntress leapt to the side, hoping to dodge the mighty creature in its final throes, but as she left the ground, her bare feet slipped in the mud and she tumbled gracelessly to the earth. The point of the beast's horn landed below her ribs, impaling her, and she was thrown backwards into the brambles at the edge of the forest, the fresh wound gushing with blood. Darkness encroached on her vision, and her consciousness began to fade. As she lay in the thicket dying, mustering the last ounce of her strength, she pulled back her bowstring for the last time, and while the beast ran at her to deliver the final blow, she loosed a staghorn arrow and it found purchase beneath the creature's jaw, pushing through the soft tissues of its neck to pierce its brainstem at the base of the skull. Kawak-Nakon collapsed on top of the huntress, and died. The huntress screamed in pain as the gargantuan, monstrous corpse landed on her, but pain no longer had any meaning. Ksulna, too, would die today. As she gasped her final breaths of worldly air, the huntress cried out a prayer of unity to her ancestral spirits.