The Opal Eyes
I
The heat of the sun on that day was irrelevant to the victims of the Ruby Demon's blazing breath. It was the middle of the worst summer the Keppal village had seen in recorded history. The vegetable crops had already long since withered in the heat, leaving the village only with nuts and grains to live on. It was fortunate for the village that their spring had not dried up, but on this day, that suddenly seemed pointless. It had happened at high noon. The heat started from beneath. The air shimmered so violently above the sandy paths of the village that it seemed as if the ground could have been on fire itself. A fire started in one of the silos, and yet nobody ran to extinguish it. Instead, the villagers were gathered at the fissure. It had appeared when the summer first started. It occasionally erupted, sending mostly ash and smoke as a shroud over the village, but this time, the glow could be seen deep down. A heat so intense that not even a puff of smoke could rise from it. If it weren't for the heavy shoes the villagers wore, they would have been wailing as the heat blistered their feet. If only they could have known. Their Ruby Demon was none other than Akantor, but this was a subspecies unlike anything they could have known about. It was the source of their infernal summer. They didn't know what was happening until their skin started to blister where it was exposed to the rising heat. Then it came. It erupted from the ground at the heart of town, followed by a pool of molten rock it had violently carried with it from its subterranean home. It treated the chief's clay brick and thatch house as no different than the dense rock and clay it had burrowed up through to get there. Immediately, the thatch was ablaze, sending burning chaff through the air where they in turn lit more of the sun-dried thatch in surrounding homes. A few men rallied around the beast where it stood half in the rubble of the burning home, and several spears lodged in the still molten rock coating the creature's hide before it turned into glassy rock which cracked as the creature's muscled rolled underneath. It was over in an instant. The last the fleeing remnant of the village heard as they ran from the smoking ruins of their ancestral home was the screech of half a dozen men simultaneously burning to death, gored by searing teeth and caked in fast-cooling molten rock.
This may seem like a very grim way to start off the story of a brave hunter, but adversity breeds strength, so they say. Among the survivors of Keppal was a young girl named Sinika who had only just barely been plucked from the village in time to live at all. Her sight was completely gone, lost in an instant as searing thatch chaff had blown across her face. The burning plant matter had left a splash scar running from one cheek and across half her face looking like a clawed hand. It hadn't healed well, but she never gave it a second's thought in the years afterwards. She was not weighed down by any self-consciousness of her appearance. Even before that day, she'd been a serious child. Far more serious than would have been good for any child. Her parents were distraught when they realized their little girl would simply not let herself be a child, even at the tender and impressionable age of 9. Many would claim she was an old soul, but even for her seriousness, there was a certain lack of social wisdom to her. Now, she has finally turned 20... the prime starting age for a hunter for the Hunting Guild. Her family had hoped she would follow in the path of her wyverian ancestors and taken up the life of a blacksmith. Gods knew she would have been a capable hand at it, and at first they'd been given hope by her efforts to learn smithing even with her lack of sight. She'd even become good at it. Nobody could shape bone and scale better than her in the small circle of smiths she'd been trained alongside. When she'd asked her father to transcribe a submission for the Hunters' Guild, he'd outright refused. How could a blind girl hunt wyverns? She'd gone through with it without him, though. A felyne chef had agreed to out her application for a fee, which she readily paid. She'd made some miraculously well ballanced dual blades for an established hunter in the past month, and that had been more than enough to pay for a simple transcription job. Then came the hard part. Finding a guild liaison to set her up with hunts would be exceedingly difficult without pre-existing proof of her prowess on the field. This is where Rogishen came in. While going with a guild liaison guaranteed a proper assessment of your talents, it was possible to pick up field work directly from people who were too poor to go through the Hunters' Guild. Rogishen was one such person, and his needs were simple enough. He was an herbal healer. His potions were among the best in the Lemova dune-port city, but he'd recently stumbled on some bad luck. Several months worth of special mushrooms and herbs had been lost when a gendrome straying too far into the outskirts of the city had caught his scent. His potions may have been miraculous, but his talents as a hunter were non-existent. The result was a panicked herbalist fleeing to the city as fast as his long legs could carry him. He'd spent almost every penny he had on those materials, which meant he didn't have what it cost to post a task at the Guild office. Sinika was so well adapted to the blind life that Rogishen hadn't even picked up on her affliction until after he'd passed on the information to her and sent her on her way. He was hit with a temporary pang of regret, but eventually he let off a wizened sigh, smirking as he resigned himself to whatever would come of this.
It had taken Sinika half a days walk to get to the herbalist's backwoods home. Navigating by foot was hard enough, but removing yourself from the familiar touch of the earth by taking a gargwa wagon out to this location would have made it worse for her. She knew she was near when she smelled the stench of drome musk mixed with a potent smell of sun-dried herbs. Apparently, it had found something to eat in the herbalist's home, or it would have likely moved on. Sinika was immediately put on guard. She had brought with her a sword and shield of her own making. It had been expensive for her to purchase the Rhenoplos bones and qurupeco flints, but she'd managed after selling a few commissioned long-swords to a trio of ace hunters. Not wanting to risk going into the confined quarters of her employers home, she began to beat at her shield with the handle of her sword. This served two purpose. The echoing sound painted a very effective picture of her surroundings for her, and the commotion she was creating also drew out the gendrome, not one to shy from a challenge, regardless of the species making it.
Sinika opened her eyes for the first time since leaving the city when she heard the rallying gutterals of the gendrome. It helped her to map out precise movements to pretend like she could see them. It was, if anything, out of habit rather than practicality. Her eyes had a milky coating to them, but beneath the haze over her irises was a lovely splash of color that was unique to her family. Her eyes were a mixture of blue, green, and yellow, much like the opals that were mined from the far off forest hills beyond her home village of Keppal.
She heard the first step outside of the house. It seemed too light to be the drome. Must be one of the genprey that rally to their drome counterparts, she thought for a moment. She soon heard more similarly light steps coming from somewhere to her right, and she turned, giving her ears a fresh perspective to gather in this new information. Yes... three of them. No sign of the drome yet. She readied herself for the pounce of the first one, but it hesitated at the last moment, and she turned her head just in time to get the location of the second one, which did not hesitate. In an instant, her shield went up,so solidly that the genprey lurched as the 'ground' came up to meet it unexpectedly quickly. In a swift motion, she pulled her shield arm sharply to her left, allowing the sword in her sword hand to deliver the fatal blow to the creature's chest cavity as it fell sideways on top of her. Even as it fell, she wasn't off guard for even a second. Pivoting on her forward foot, she used the spiral motion to withdraw the blade from the instantly deceased bird-wyvern, and flung herself like a gymnast to within striking distance of the prey that had hesitated in front of her. Her arm, grown exceedingly strong from manipulating metal and bone as a blacksmith, lashed out, instantly decapitating the beast before it could react. The third one was too far away for her to follow through from that to complete the massacre, but soon she heard it shrieking. And that's when she heard the drome's footfalls. It was a cocky strut. Not composed or efficient like the genprey that followed it. This creature relied on its size for everything. Obviously a young drome. If it were let to live to an old age, it would learn better, but she would not allow that age to pass. It moved fast considering its slow footfalls. It had to be big. Long legs. She'd know how big in an instant. Banging her gong-like metal shield with the handle of her blade. The picture those reverberating sounds created for her was clear as the finest crystal. It was slightly taller than she was. And heavyset for a bird-wyvern. She pondered what odd circumstances would allow such a backwards creature to ascend to dromehood. As she pondered, her body instinctively handled the situation. Leaping into the air with a strength and agility greater than could be expected of either human or wyverian, she met the creature's open mouth with the keen edge of her sword, instantly shattering it's dagger-like front fangs, and digging into the bone of its lower jaw where it hinged with the top. She herself was a good bit to the side of it, her outstretched arm bearing its doom from afar. As expected, the blade caught in the bone and tissue of the creature's jaw, and allowed her to swing froma parallel path to its back. Using the blade embedded in its mouth as a reigns, she caused it to veer sharply off to the fourth and final wyvern. The gendrome then, due to the blade having fractured the surrounding bone up into the creature's diminutive brain, lost it's footing as it drifted into death. At the last possible instant, Sinika dislodged the blade from the creature's mouth and vaulted off its back at the bewildered genprey that remained. Her path was perfect. Like a gymnast, she flipped forward over its back to her feet, and spun as soon as her feet had sufficient purchase, gashing diagonally through the genprey's ribcage, and that was that. It didn't survive more than a handful of miserable, painful seconds, and her paycheck was securely earned. She could feel blood caked over her exposed arms, and was sure she'd need to do a thorough wash of her clothes before going back into town. She had heard water trickling in a nearby brook halfway down the road to this place. Wiping the blood off her blade into the grass, she began casually striding back to town.
When she reached the point where the water could be heard, she began whistling merrily. It was a lullaby she had come up with when she was coming of age. She consoled herself in the silence with such tunes she would make up on the fly. She soon reached the edge of the stream and found it gathered in a decently sized pool before gently rolling down to rejoin itself with its neighboring streams. She barely took a moment to check her surroundings, and was soon knee deep in the pool, naked, washing the blood out of her heavy leather clothing. All the while she whistled. It was admittedly a risky thing to do. She was essentially blind to her surroundings with own whistling drowning them out. She was too happy to care, though. This had been a flawless hunt, especially for a first hunt. In between verse and chorus, though, she suddenly froze, still holding her clothes in both hands where she had been dunking them in the pool. She turned her head sharply to the right and opened her eyes again. She had heard a branch break. In one swift move, she slung the sopping clothes onto her shoulder and snatched up her sword from where it had been sitting on the nearby bank. She stood there, poised for trouble, when suddenly a recently familiar voice spoke up.
"Hold on! It's me! Rogishen! I'm the one that asked you to..." the voice started, but was interrupted by Sinika's stern tones.
"I know who it is. I don't forget a voice... did you come all this way to bring my pay?" she spoke sharply. There was a silence for a while, and then he spoke up.
"Jeesh... they were right. You are blind. Did you really clear them out?" he said. She immediately realized he must have been nodding during that silence... or else shaking his head.
"So which is it?" she snapped. "Did you bring my pay or not?" She heard his feet shift on the leaves as if he had shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"I brought it... but I need to know for sure that you killed them all. How can you hunt if you cannot see?" he murmured, as if he felt compelled to say it, but hoped that it wouldn't be heard. He shifted his weight again, and she realized he was nervous. It took her a few moments to realize why, and she sighed.
"You know... this might be a bit more comfortable if you let me get dressed..." she said in weary tones. She could hear him clear his throat and his feet shifted again. Either he had been facing away and turned to face her, or the opposite was true. Either way didn't matter to her. Her social immaturity made her something of an awkward person to be around in touchy situations like this. Her leather armor was specially designed to be water resistant, so by the time she'd given it a brisk shake, it was fit for wearing, and she pulled it on one piece at a time. Finally fully garbed, she picked up her shield and placed it on her back, strapped into a special loop in her chest armor's back. She held out a hand expectantly. "My pay?"
The man quickly placed a bag of coins in her hand, and waited as she sifted her hands through the cold metal coins. She'd have to count in later, but these were all fifty zenny pieces, so it added up to at least what she was promised. She couldn't feel any fakes from a first inspection.
"We're done then. I expect you to provide me a wagon to transport the carcasses to my smithy in town. I can put gendrome hide to good use, though I think I fouled up the only decent fangs to be had. Either way, deliver them intact, and we'll be even. I assume now that you have access to your home, this won't be an issue?" she went on bluntly. The man seemed a little put off, and he cleared his throat again.
"S-Sure... what part of town?" he asked. His voice carried as if he had been facing away from her. She smirked and shook her head, closing her eyes again, realizing her opal gaze must have been unsettling for him.
"My shop is a short distance south of the Wyverian Academy, which is on the west side of town," she responded briefly. Turning then, she started to make her way to the road to go back to town. She paused briefly while just barely in earshot of him and yelled out "Rogishen, right?" She listened for a few moments, and soon heard his response.
"Yes... That's correct." he answered in a tone that was quite hesitant.
"Well, Rogishen... you know where I live... so you come to me first if you need a hunter. Got it?" she insisted. There was a silence, and she assumed he had absentmindedly shaken or nodded his head again. "Got it?" she repeated herself.
"Absolutely," was his simple reply. This satisfied her, and off she went, whistling that old familiar lullaby.