Three Hunters, One Heart

"Arachnils don't eat dusk elves or half-elves," I said, pointing to my grayish skin and running a hand through my short, silvery hair. "It's something in the blood."

Benhai whispered something under his breath and stared up at the moons.

"Does he...ever really talk?" I frowned over at the mage. "Or does he just mumble and murmur?"

"It's a bad omen for a mage to speak at night," Eselda said. "Or say he claims. Might be a bit scatter-brained but he makes up for it with his skill with runes. His stun-runes slowed many of those arachnils, and his wind-runes guided Dokfal's arrows."

I glanced from the muttering mage and his mismatched robe to the burly Dokfal, then to Eselda and her hatchets.

"You three make for a curious little group."

"Every band of monster-slayers is a curious little group," Dokfal said, chuckling. "Eselda and I met at a smithy on the road from Nenhaar, where I was getting my armor patched up and she was getting new straps for her armor. Benhai was across the street buying newts' eyes for his potions. Once we overheard each other talking about going after the same beast, we decided there was safety in numbers."

As we walked, the light of the moons cast enough of a glow that I could admire the craftsmanship of her hatchets. Noting the red hue of the wood, I raised an eyebrow.

"Meadow elf make, I assume?" I asked, referring to the distant cousins of the dusk elves, who frolicked in the plains of the far east, where sacred songs and ritualistic hunts guided their lives.

They were frivolous and foolish kin in the eyes of the dusk elves, but kin nonetheless.

"Good eye," Eselda said, lifting the hatchet, giving it a little twirl, then handing it over so I could inspect it.

I ran my finger over the finely-crafted weapon, marveling at the engravings of wolves and trees upon the haft, and the faint elven glyphs upon the steel.

"I've never met a meadow elf hunter, but from the songs I've heard, they'd sooner die than part with a weapon like this," I said before handing it back over. "How'd you end up with it?"

"I could tell you, but it's a scandalous story. Made Dokfal here blush red as a beet when I told him." She snickered and looked me up and down. "Given the tales of wicked debauchery I've heard about dusk elves, you're probably less likely to be offended by such a tale, though."

"Bloody Voids," Dokfal muttered. "Can it at least wait until we make camp? Then you two can take the first watch and share bawdy tales all you like."

Quite intrigued by the story, I laughed and agreed to let it wait.

On the far side of the withered wheatfield we came across their horses. Thankfully they had a spare steed that they'd used to stow some of their gear, so they loaned it to me for the rest of the ride.

Along the way we made idle banter, with Dokfal sharing a few stories about his time in the Commonwealth legions and tales of other monster hunts. Benhai remained silent, other than to mumble and grumble to himself.

We arrived at a thin patch of trees north of an abandoned farm and settled down to make camp. Once Dokfal and Benhai had slipped inside their tents, Eselda and I each climbed a separate tree to keep watch over the surrounding farmlands for any sign of arachnils or the hellraven.

"Must be quite the wicked tale," I said as I settled upon the largest, sturdiest branch I could find. "Dokfal seems to be a seasoned traveler and warrior. Hard to imagine a tale being shocking enough to embarrass someone like him."

"Oh, he used to be a lecher and a wastrel back in his army days, from what I heard," she said, her soft laugh echoing through the little grove. "But he's turned a new leaf. Dedicated himself to some boring god, can't even remember which one. Donates silver to the temples, prays every morning...dull and dreary nonsense, if you ask me. Even hearing such stories is probably a sin to him now."

Eselda flashed me a mischievous grin.

"Now are you certain you want to hear the story?"

"Aye. Let's see if you can shock me."

Eselda relaxed upon her own sturdy branch, occasionally looking out towards the horizon as she shared her tale.

"I worked as a caravan guard along the Tarvasso Plain, which is home to several meadow elf tribes. They kept to themselves mostly, but they did forbid travelers from hunting in certain areas. One fool among our crew went off and brought down an elk in one of those sacred, forbidden lands.

"It didn't take long for the meadow elves to learn of the trespass, so they stopped our caravan, demanding the culprit step forward. They said that since we had hunted where we were not allowed, one of us had to be hunted in turn. I offered myself, not wanting the whole caravan to get into trouble."

I frowned, wondering how such a tale could take a licentious turn.

"Don't worry," she said, grinning and noting my frown. "It gets better. The meadow elves took me away as their captive, and brought me to their telharai. She was akin to a queen, a hunter, and a priestess all in one."

I nodded, recognizing the term. The dusk elves had a similar word for a warrior-priestess chosen to lead armies. I assumed the meadow elves had appointed the to oversee the laws protecting their hunting lands.

"Her name was Ariawyn and she was..." She sighed, closing her eyes. "One of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen. Green-tinged skin, radiant red hair, amber eyes..."

"Eyes like yours," I noted, having never seen a human with such eyes before.

"Aye. I'll get to that. Anyway, Ariawyn brought me to a shrine and told me that I was to be hunted. But not for a meal. I was to be hunted as a...prize. I had to last until the next dawn out in that unfamiliar wilderness. The longer I lasted, the less severe my punishment would be. So I ran and ran. Swam across raging rivers, climbed great trees, delved beneath the roots to find hiding spots.

"During my frantic attempt to cross a river I nearly drowned, but Ariawyn pulled me out. She saved me from the rapids, but succeeded in her hunt. She treated me kindly. Tended to my injuries, gave me a spare horse, and took me back to her camp. She bathed me, let me rest, and then..."

Her head tilted backwards and she sighed, licking her lips.

"And then she claimed her prize. The 'hunt' was a ceremonial thing, you see. They weren't going to kill or eat me. Instead, they carried me to an altar where Ariawyn laid me out and did things to me that..."

She shivered and I couldn't help but follow suit, shifting a little upon the branch I'd nestled upon. My arousal flared as I imagined Eselda sprawled out beneath the hungry tongue and skilled fingers of a lustful elf.

"I can certainly see why that might have brought a blush to Dokfal's face," I muttered.

"Not to yours, though," she said, meeting my eyes. "Although it's hard to tell if you're blushing or not, with that grayish skin." Her amber eyes twinkled. "It's quite fetching in the moonlight, by the way."

"Quite fetching?" I said, my eyes drifting for a moment over her lithe body. The drakescale armor could not hide the lean, athletic physique that Ariawyn had plundered and ravished. "I could say the same for you. But you never explained the eyes, though..."

"That was a gift. The sex was a ritual, you see. An empowering one. Ariawyn imparted upon me the eyesight of a meadow elf as gratitude for taking part in the ritual, and as recognition for me stepping up to take responsibility for the violation of their sacred lands. So now I can see as keenly as a meadow elf."

Her eyes drifted towards my crotch.

"Keenly enough to see that you seemed to have enjoyed my story quite a bit."

Rather than blush or shirk away, I leaned my head back and laughed.

"Of course I did. You're quite the storyteller; you set my imagination ablaze."

"Now it's your turn to set my imagination ablaze. I've heard rumors of how wicked the dusk elves can be. Ritualistic orgies beneath the moonlight. Public duels that turn to public trysts."

Though arousal still pulsed through my manhood, my smile faded and the mirth fled my eyes.

"Such pleasures are denied to half-elves like me. I've had my share of fun and companionship, but all of those official rites are forbidden until my blood is purified."

"Sorry," she said with a sigh. "Although that's a bunch of bloody nonsense if you ask me. The meadow elves aren't like that at all. Ariawyn herself had a human grandmother and that didn't stop her from helping rule over her tribe."

"Dusk elves and meadow elves differ in a great many ways. Our sacred glades value purity. In battle. In thought. In blood."

"I still think it's rubbish."

I wrinkled my nose.

"I do as well. I've slain ogres, arachnils, ghouls, and bandits in the name of the glade. I can wield a hammer, bow, and rune as well as any ranger or warrior, and yet I'm still denied the same privileges and pleasures of the others. I cannot change eons of customs, however. All I can do is strive to purify my blood."

"Surely you have some other story, then. Something that would also make Dokfal blush, even if it isn't about one of those wicked dusk elf rituals."

"Nothing that can quite compare to being hunted and claimed by an elven telharai."

"Eh, you're no fun."

She nudged my leg with her boot.

"I'm plenty of fun," I shot back with a crooked grin. "I just don't have any stories that quite measure up to yours, that's all."

"Fair, fair."

We fell silent and returned to our sentry duty, scanning the horizon for signs of arachnils or the hellraven. We made idle chatter for a while, telling stories of our travels to the valley, what little we knew of the strengths and weaknesses of the hellraven, and she shared a bit of gossip about her companions.

Eventually we settled into a comfortable silence, my mind wandering and drifting back to the story she'd told about being hunted by that elven woman. After a few moments, Eselda chuckled.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?"

I kept my laugh low and quiet, lest I wake the others.

"Was it that obvious?"

"You have a little gleam in your eye. And I don't need magical eyesight to catch that bulge in your trousers."

"Was getting a bit bored. The mind wanders, you know."

"You still can't think of a story to match mine?"

"Maybe I'll save it for the next time we keep watch together."

After we shared a soft chuckle, the comfortable silence resumed. A few hours later we clambered down from our perch; once we reached the bottom, Eselda reached out and took me by the wrist.

"I know that we're still practically strangers. But I'd still like to offer you advice." Her fingers tightened. "Forget about those bastards in the glade. If they can't accept you for your strengths and skills, they're not worth risking your life for."

As welcome as that soft touch was, her words were like a blade. My eyes narrowed and I tugged my hand away.

"Qal-Tesh is my home. There's nowhere else for me."

"A home is a choice, Selakiir, not a burden," she said with a distant smile.

Without another word she pulled away and headed for her tent. After staring for a moment, I wondered as to why she'd spoken to me in such a way. With a sigh, I shook my head and made my way over to Dokfal's tent to wake him for the next shift.

**

At dawn we rose to resume our journey. Before long, Eselda's keen eyesight spotted a red-spattered black feather clinging to a distant tree. After climbing up that tree, she let out a little whoop and scampered back down, relaying to us that she'd seen a dark shadow in the rocky hills to the northeast.

We were on the right path.

Onwards we rode over the drought-ravaged grasslands until we reached the rocky hills, where Eselda collected two more massive feathers from the ground. Each one of those was worth a decent sum of silver, but wealth was the farthest thing from my mind.

My heart pounded; sweat coated my palms as I rested my hand upon my warhammer.

Close.

So close.

We crested a rocky hill, then crouched down as an ear-splitting shriek sliced through the air. Perched atop a hill perhaps a quarter mile from us was our quarry.

Thus far I'd only caught faint, distant glimpses of the beast, or had seen likenesses of such creatures within the tomes back in Qal-Tesh's libraries.

None of that had prepared me for the sight of the creature in all its hellish glory.

At a glance it resembled the raven that it had once been, although its body was larger than a horse, having grown and mutated due to the demonic power coursing within it. Skeletal, black-feathered wings stretched far to the side as it stalked back and forth across the hilltop, its gleaming white beak jabbing down at unseen prey. Ruby-like eyes burned within its half-rotted skull. Talons the size of swords scourged the ground as it moved.

"Bloody Voids," Dokfal said. "I swear it's gotten bigger since the last time we saw it."

For the first time since we'd met, Benhai spoke proper words, rather than a mumble or a murmur.

"That's because its heart is a rift to the demonic realms," the wrinkled mage said. "The more it feeds and hunts, the more hellish power it draws into itself."

Eselda's eyes narrowed.

"It's feeding on people. Shepherds, I think." She sighed. "Poor souls. We need to kill the damned thing now. Before that heart of it makes it bigger and stronger. Before it hurts anyone else."

"We stick to the plan," said Dokfal. "Selakiir and Eselda, you run down there and draw its ire. Benhai enchants my arrows with stun-runes, I get it in the wing. Bring it down, I keep peppering it with stunning arrows, Benhai moves in to help with his fire-runes. Rip it up with those hatchets, break its talons with that warhammer, and then we're all rich."

Every time we'd rehearsed that plan during our journey, I had known things would not turn out so simple. A beast brimming with demonic magic was sure to surprise us. Given the circumstances, our plan was the best we could do for now, though.

When things went wrong, I'd just have to improvise and ensure I survived to claim its heart.

After taking the horses back down the hill to keep them safe and secure during the fight, Eselda flashed me a wild grin.

"Ready to be bait?"

"I think I could have practiced my shrill, panicked screaming a bit more," I replied, giving her a wild grin of my own.

With a laugh, she leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and then sprinted down the hill.

Shocked into immobility for just a moment by that kiss, it took a slap to the back of my head from Dokfal to spur me into action. Warhammer in one hand, runestone in the other, I took off after Eselda.

Before Eselda reached the base of the hill the infernal beast unleashed another ear-splitting shriek. Its fiery red eyes turned from its meal and glared down at her. My blood chilled as that gaze darted towards me. It cocked its head, looking just like any other curious, befuddled bird. The expression was almost enough to make me forget it was a hell-warped creature capable of slaughtering a dozen arachnils with a few swipes of its claws.

The thought of purifying my blood and claiming a true place within Qal-Tesh kept those fears at bay. Grinning despite my possible death and doom, I readied my echo-rune, my pace quickening as I caught up with Eselda.

The hellraven took flight. The backdraft unleashed by its wings forced me back a step.

Rather than dive down towards us, the great beast instead darted towards the other two hunters.

The plan could still work, though. As long as Dokfal hit it with a stunning arrow at the right moment, the creature would crash into the rocky hillside, then Eselda and I could unleash hell upon it with our weapons while Benhai prepared another rune.

Dokfal's first arrow rose, crackling with energy conjured by Benhai's stun-rune.

It struck the hellraven's wing. Yellowish light cascaded back down from the wound.

Eselda and I both cried out in shock as the magic reflected directly back into Dokfal. The energy of the stun-rune, intended to cripple the great hellraven, now coursed through the archer's body.

His bow tumbled from his grasp and he flopped to the ground just as the hellraven descended. Benhai raised one of his other runestones.

The hellraven's shriek drowned out our cry of warning as he activated the fire-rune, sending a scorching beam up at the infernal bird. Red energy rippled across the creature's night-black feathers. The beam of fire shattered and cascaded right back down upon the mage. The old man had time for one short scream before the reflected spell turned him to ash.

Dokfal, still stunned by the reflected stun-rune, was helpless to stop the sudden slash of a talon across his chest. Blood sprayed across the hilltop.

Anger and regret pulsed through me, even though I'd barely known those two.

My echo-rune would be useless against the damned beast. The influence of the hellish realms had somehow made it not only immune to magic, but capable of reflecting spells right back at the caster.

And yet despite the carnage and the odds, I still had to fight. That creature's heart was the only means of purifying my blood.

As I readied my bow, the hellraven turned its foul eyes towards me. Undaunted and undeterred, I notched an arrow and let loose. It struck the beast in the chest, sinking a few inches deep. Its wings flailed, sending pulses of wind down the hill.

I reached for another arrow.

The next arrow struck true, right beside the first one.

Perhaps we wouldn't need magic at all. Just a few more well-placed arrows...

The moment my third arrow landed, the hellraven took off, flying straight down the hill towards me. I tossed down my bow, went for my hammer, and ignored Eselda's shout of warning.

Its great talon, still streaked with Dokfal's blood, lashed out. I sidestepped and counterattacked with my hammer, howling with triumph as the glade-forged steel thudded into the side of its leg, cracking through hell-hardened flesh. The creature screamed and continued its ascent, bright orange blood trailing from the fresh wound.

Eselda, a few feet away, notched an arrow and sent it sailing into the creature's back. The ground shook with the echoes of its enraged shriek. Great talons raked against the earth as it landed upon another hill, then turned its wild, hellish eyes back to us.

The feathers within its chest turned a bright red. The glowing feathers shimmered and peeled back, exposing rotting skin and a deep, glowing wound. The skin shifted and parted, revealing the hellish heart that I so desperately longed for.

Ensconced within the creature's body was a fiery, burning red crystal teeming with demonic energy.

An object of horrific, otherworldly power. The key to my salvation.

The demonic heart ignited, sending a torrent of red lightning across the drought-parched vale. The half-dead plant life ignited, unleashing smoke and embers in beam's wake. The lightning tore into the ground a few feet from me and kicked up plumes of dirt.

I dove to the ground to avoid the rest of the beam. Over the crackling of the energy, I could make out Eselda's frenzied shouts.

With the heart exposed, I had my chance. Snatching up my bow again, I reached for an arrow and took aim as the hellraven prepared to unleash another beam.

A single arrow.

A single prize.

A new life.

The glowing heart brightened.

The arrow leapt from the bow. I cried out in a combination of relief and ecstatic triumph.

The arrow missed by inches, sinking into the black feathers just above the exposed heart.

I still had time. Guided by furious purpose and years of training, I reached for another arrow and nocked it.

Pulling back the string, I winced as the glow of the demonic heart brightened. The air crackled around the beast. Sparks of red energy wafted from its eyes and talons.