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Short Story: The Huntress The Dragon closed its eyes, and with its last breath I felt a rush. It was not the rush of victory; it was not the feeling of safeguarding those who count on me to protect then; it was not the exhilaration of a fight - it was simply the pleasure of taking a life. I closed my eyes as well, and let the feelings wash over me. As my teammates wandered about, my satisfaction took its disguise as me catching my breath after an arduous fight. Those are the moments for which I joined them, but I cannot let them know. What we do is work, and I make my penance in how seriously I take such work. I cleaned my spear and carried the Dragon's head. Words were exchanged, but I didn't listen to them - the good works, the finallies, the we're gonna get a nice paychecks. My rush was fleeting, and just as soon as it hit me, it was gone. I walked back following protocol, and even the words I uttered in response were just reflex. It dawned on me that the others could be just as cruel as I was. I would never know, or at least I hoped never to know such things. -------------------------------------------------- I slowed my pace to match Leola's, the lead Huntress. "Was it evil?" I asked. "The Dragon?" Leola asked, rhetorically. "I heard he flew away from the East Vast, but could not find solace in the eastern mountains. You know the tales that there live monsters, and the myths that they are so mighty even Aleena couldn't take them." "I don't think he was evil", she continued, "just couldn't handle the mountains there, and all the hyperboles therein contained. He avoided humans, but he ate cattle he shouldn't, and the people here in the sands be protective of their islands of dirt". "So good will come out of it, right?" Leola sighed, and nodded her head a few times, before turning to me. "You're a kind soul, Kasinia. You shouldn't feel guilty," she said, pausing to catch her breath instinctively, as if thinking for the briefest moment about her next words. "We are not above nature, neither was that Dragon. He flew into a web he couldn't see. We may lose sight of the nature of things at this large a scale, but we are not above any of it." "It's a wicked nature", I replied. We are taught not to assign moral values to the things as they are - just as it would be foolish to say gravity is evil - but I'd find in me to take upon such foolish hill to defend. "The only wicked thing is that we've been cursed to feel so", she looks at me one last time, before facing onward. Patting my shoulder, she continues, "you think a spider feels guilty over its prey?" "Cats are known to play with their victims", I replied. "Sometimes, not even their prey. And cattle sometimes play with their predators, when surrounded, I would know, I've seen it. If they are capable of such capriciousness, wouldn't some of them also feel remorse?" "Maybe. Maybe you should think like dumber animals then." I didn't proceed any further - "we are not dumber animals", I thought to myself, but I knew her next response would be along the lines of "don't think, then". I didn't feel the guilt because I thought, I thought because I felt guilt. The cattle saved would too close their eyes. Elentor fucked around with this message at 09:27 on Dec 1, 2021 |
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Dec 1, 2021 09:15
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Good hunting, friends. Good short story, Elentor!
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Dec 1, 2021 11:11
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Short Story: Bereft There were five bullets and a memory in the chamber. Yuga-Clarice looked down at the parched man and pointed the gun at him. "There are three chances here for you to be free. Now, our deal." She had gone to great lengths to get those bullets made many moons ago. The fall of Kenvlar was, as she had seen, the hardest of all countries; the desert too harsh to survive without the presence of Kali, the remaining souls too few to populate the vastness, the sand too dry and absent sources of water. The parched man was the last in a long line of tracking those who helped the dark woman of the east. By the time the last caravan left, he thought there'd be others, but there weren't - The merchants and traders chose not to travel back to the north, and transportation to the borders of the woods of Solstice halted. Without water and food, the people of the western cities of Kenvlar died one by one. The dunes are filled with corpses of those who tried to leave too late, in a panicked realization that they were left behind. The ruins of a civilization past betrayed their instincts, by giving them a sense that this was a place habitable. Yuga took a sip from her water bottle, and she could see a spark in the parched man's eyes. His lips were cracked. Back in the days of the war she had seen some of the soldiers die of dehydration; some went faster than the wounded or those who clung to life. After the initial thirst subsided there was not much left in them to fight. She learned to let them go, and once she had her own freedom, she procured the means to give water to those who in need. The burning, scalding desert does not, however, make the process any easier. The parched man's wife passed a few days ago, blind and nauseous. The parched man himself was feeling a ceaseless headache, and by the fifteenth day since the last drop, he cursed his unnatural vigor. Yuga had seen people fade by their third day, bloated and hopeless, yet the parched man could still muster whatever strength he had to shoo the insects away. In a stunning act of discipline, he chose to forfeit the last water he had to the grains of sand, lest his final moments be eaten away by the flying black dots that haunted his family. But to Yuga, his act could mean her own death of thirst a few weeks down the run. Despite this, her bereavement arose a sense of commonality. "She was wearing a yellow robe, with flower ornaments in green" he spoke in a rough voice. He sounded tired, but did not skip words. "She paid in a black coin, and once denied - once...", he pauses, "- once denied, she paid in gold. No one had seen coins of gold like hers." "Follow the trail of gold, the Solstice - hug the west. Hug the west. They all know who she is." His voice started to falter. He draws breath one more time: "No matter where she is, she is the woman with gold. She can't hide." "She can't hide", Yuga thought. "Thank you for your kindness", Yuga said. As she was about to pull the trigger, the man was startled by her subtle movement. "Wait, wait." "Will you make sure?" "I will", she thought, and she herself was too tired to waste further words. Unlike the parched man, she did not have this much disposition, knowing of the road that lied ahead. She thought of Malu, and her stories, and her notion of dignity, whatever that meant to her. Yuga thought to herself that while he did not go sooner, she admired his composure, and the eloquence of what instead should have been delirious, barely audible words. To honor him, she made sure to let go of all the bullets she had spare: once in the chest, twice in the head. She lowered to check his vitals, then got back up again. "I'll make sure to tell others of your resilience, parched man", she said to no one. She briefly felt regret for not having asked his name, something her sister-in-law would have done. But she was not her. Still bereft, she took another sip of water. There were two bullets and a memory in the chamber. Elentor fucked around with this message at 23:19 on Jan 9, 2022 |
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Jan 7, 2022 01:31
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