The group of hunters ran through the countryside. It looked like five dark trails of death. The wildlife barely reacted; after all, death is part of nature. Its presence is always felt; one just has to avoid being on its path.
Sunrise came, and the running shadows stopped. Four younger hunters prepared the camp, while Dhorros sat on a tree stump. Soon, a meal was prepared, and everyone sat around the fire. The flickering light showed glimpses of their serious faces.
A small-framed hunter, with curly mop hair, tried to speak. Fear and apprehension made his voice quiver. "Master Dhorros…" When the older hunter locked eyes with him, he quickly bowed his head and remained silent. Dhorros looked at each of them and finally said, "We have a mission. I am your Master. I trained each of you. And I'm the leader of this expedition. You will all follow my lead and obey orders without a second thought." After a pause, he added, "And all will be well." Then he looked at each of them in turn again. The woman with ashen-blonde hair nodded and kept looking at him with burning fervor. The tallest of the apprentices scratched his head and quickly nodded before looking elsewhere. Without looking up, the one who spoke earlier whispered, "Yes, but…" He then mumbled something, but no one heard.
The last one had his eyes lost in the distance. He had short black hair. He had dark circles under his eyes, like he had been crying or hadn't slept, maybe both. Dhorros looked at him for a moment, but the young hunter didn't react. Finally, he called him, "Ethios?" The hunter startled, "Yes, Master Dhorros? Did you say something?" Dhorros frowned and repeated, "You will follow my lead and all orders without question." The young man's gaze got lost again. He muttered, "Yes, of course, Master."
It seemed that would be the end of the discussion. But the curly-haired hunter did blurt out, "Killing the whisperers is wrong!" Time froze; the three other young hunters barely dared to look at the speaker. Dhorros stood up and walked toward the shaking young man. "Do you wish to challenge me for leadership?" He asked softly. The young man stood up, trembling with fear. He stood as straight as possible, looked at his Master in the eye, and said, "You know it is wrong. We have to do something." Dhorros set a hand on his shoulder. The young hunter felt the overwhelming power held by his leader. The older hunter then asked him, "And when you've defeated me, will you challenge Chala to become the leader of the hunters, Matheon?"
Matheon didn't back down. His legs felt heavy and weak at the same time. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It made him dizzy. His mouth was dry, and he wanted to cough or maybe puke. He moved his tongue to create some spit. Feeling the killing intent in the giant in front of him, he said his last words, pouring all his faith and devotion into them. "You showed us the way. When something is wrong, we shouldn't stand aside and let it happen. The way is to dare to challenge authority, even if it means our death."
The night was at its darkest. The pale flames of the fire struggled to keep the shadows at bay. Dhorros took one step back. Taking a low stance, he extended his arms to the sides, then rotated them, one toward the ground, the other toward the sky. Between his hands, the air flickered and seemed to die as his shadow axe was summoned. The dark flames were invisible in the night, but the pressure was undeniable. The axe was slowly armed up. Matheon lifted his chin. His eyes stinging, he looked death in the eyes.
As the axe went down, a blurry figure intervened. A deafening crash was heard as Dhorros' giant axe met a massive shield, barbed with moving, shadowy tendrils. The dark appendices wrapped themselves around the axe, trying to immobilize it. The leader frowned and ordered, "Talhios, stand down." The tall hunter just shook his head. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding the death blade. "Talhios, you shouldn't have," whispered Matheon. His friend scoffed, "We fight together, always. You forgot?"
"Should we kill them, master Dhorros?" asked a feminine voice. The female hunter stood in a battle stance next to her leader. Her shadow spear was pulsating and slightly undulating, casting a sickly aura. "Are you ready to do that, Elliana?" Asked the leader seriously. The woman's eyes took on a steely determination as she said, "Yes, I'll follow you no matter what."
The older hunter then turned toward his last student and asked, "What about you, Ethios? Which side do you choose?" The dark eyes flicked toward the fight scene before looking in the distance again. "What does it matter who lives or dies?" He muttered.
A gust of wind made the embers flare up. Dhorros pondered for a while. Then he let his axe drift away in oily smoke and walked slowly toward his seat. When he was installed, he looked at the other hunters, still frozen in place, trying to make sense of his action. He waved his hand. "Stand down, all of you." Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "You're all right, in a way." His eyes shone in the dying light of the fire. "And tomorrow all of you will follow my lead."
A note from Hugh Oatfield