I, ZEPHYR

A Monster Hunter Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: Monster Hunter belongs to Capcom. The author only lays claim to the written text and original characters that do not appear in the actual games.

I edited the first chapter, if you haven't read it yet.

You who is like the wind, always trying to run... thinking that freedom is yours to have. It really isn't that simple, child...

Escape. It was all he had ever dreamed of, ever since he was a mere little child. Chained to a life of hatred, living for nothing other than revenge – he had performed horrible, wicked things, all the while thinking that he was doing them of his own free will, when in actuality he was being manipulated like clay in a potter's hands, guided by invisible puppet-strings to dance to the master's will. He had never actually done anything of his own free will...

But that was ending now. That life of pain and hatred and revenge, it was leaving him. The heartstrings of his previous life were being severed, one by one, and with every snip of the scissors of karma, he felt rejuvenated by the liberation he felt now. And yet, here he stood, in front of the mirror of fate, every ripple along the sheet of glass reflecting yet another memory. He could see his face staring back at him, his eyes blankly looking over his past. Every shameful sin he had committed, he could see – but then, there were a few memories that made him smile.

Most of them involved her.

Then, he saw him – that wretched son of a bitch, the one that had played him like a harp, pulling every string that he could just for fun. He suddenly felt himself go berserk, every muscle in his body screaming for his blood, for death, for him to rot in the depths of hell for eternity. Him! He was glaring at him coldly, even through the mirror...

"I chose you for a reason, Zephyr."

With that hateful voice, he could take it no longer. With a cry that unleashed years of pent-up hatred, he smashed his fist into the mirror as hard as he could, ignoring the pain that shot up his fist. The memories were blurring dangerously, vanishing like a thin mist into nothingness as cracks cobwebbed out from the impact. Shards of glass rained down onto him, cutting him in a million places, but he didn't care. That bastard... he must pay! He will pay for his sins, I swear!

The memories – those fears, those regrets, those tears, the blood on his hands – they were all swept away one by one, splintering into tiny particles and swirling around him as though they had minds of their own. He felt a soothing calm enter him, and he slowly calmed down, suddenly feeling very tired and lethargic. With little more than a yawn, he curled up and drifted off to his first peaceful sleep in many years, feeling nothing more than emptiness in his mind.

Reyn Theadrai was not in a jolly mood.

As the huntress clad in pink, metallic-looking scaly armor stomped through the busy hunter's district of Ryudo Village, the crowds of hunters and civilians alike wisely stepped out of the way, not wanting to get in the way of the fuming hunter. One could practically see the clouds of steam billowing out of her helmet, her angry face contrasting against her Pink Rathian armor. Reyn was somewhat well-known among hunters as 'the gunner with attitude', and this was evidenced in the way she kicked an innocent Felyne out of the way as she went on her less-than-merry way. The Felyne was later discovered two hundred yards away, buried in scaffolding, but that is besides the point at the moment. The huntress was a horrible person to deal with when she lost her temper, which was unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence. There were easily over a thousand hunters in the entire district, plus several dozen Wyverian blacksmiths busy trying to sell their latest creations and merchant advertising their wares, but none of them were daring enough to stand in her way.

Smart choice, she thought with a growl. If anyone tried to waste her time or prevent her from going to the local Guild tower, she would make sure they spent the rest of their lives in a hospital bed (and it wouldn't be the first time either). "She's mad," she could hear people gossiping around her. "Let's stay out of her way." Fine! That way I'll get to the hall faster. Reyn could give a rat's ass about what people thought of her. Let them have their own fun.

After a fairly uninterrupted hike (and two hospitalized vendors), the huntress reached the guild tower. It was a grand sight indeed, displaying the Guild's splendor in the form of a huge stone building several stories tall, easily dwarfing the other structures in the village. It was big enough to contain all the Guild pencil-pushers' offices and at the same time feed the masses of hungry hunters in the village, and at the very top of the building a large flag bearing the emblem of the Hunter's Guild was displayed proudly, flapping in the cool evening breeze. It was magnificent enough to make newly-promoted hunters gape in awe for several minutes, but Reyn had already seen the building hundreds of times over the course of her career and was not here for sightseeing. The entrance of the Guild tower, a large pair of wooden doors, was guarded by two knights in the ceremonial uniform of the Guild. They had rapiers, but they were no match for hunters if alone – the Guild Corps, as they were called, had strength only in large numbers, although some of the more high-ranking ones were equipped with advanced weaponry and could actually fight back.

This all ran through Reyn's mind in about half a second as she walked over to the entrance. The guards paled visibly and opened the doors quickly and without hesitation – Reyn was famous for beating up Guild knights when they got in her way when she was in a bad mood, and she supposed these two guards were smart enough to not follow in the steps of their forcibly-retired colleagues. With an evil grin that turned the guards' faces as white as ghosts, she entered the Guild tower.

The smell of cheap liquor and well-done steaks hit her nose immediately, almost making her recoil physically as she entered the building. The ground floor of the Guild tower was also the biggest tavern in the village, comfortably seating up to a hundred hunters while many sat at the numerous bars, chatting and telling tales and arm-wrestling and various other activities. Guild-hired waitresses and Felynes were running everywhere, working hard to make sure the hunters got their meals and beverages on time. Ryudo Village was a hunting hub, located in an auspicious location to the far east of the continent and having monster-friendly mild weather, and this was evidenced by the sheer amount of hunters in the room. Armors of all shapes, colors and sizes were mounted on the walls, some of them dedicated to certain hunters, and alongside them were interesting trinkets – monster bones, fossils, even the occasional mounted head of a Velocidrome or Tigrex and even astonishing things, like fangs the size of small wyverns and Daimyo Hermitaur pincers.

"It's rush hour," Reyn muttered under her breath. These hunters were here to have food before heading out on their night hunts, but she wasn't very hungry at the moment. The events that had happened earlier today had done nothing to help her appetite.

Shaking her head to focus on the task at hand, her eyes darted to the far end of the hall, where a flight of fancy-looking stairs were located. There were three guards surrounding the stairs, chatting amongst each other without a care in the world. That changed when Reyn pushed past them to go up the stairs, shoving one of them to the floor with a pre-emptive strike.

"Halt!" One knight shouted as bravely as he could muster, drawing his rapier quickly, but he was paralyzed by the glare of the far superior huntress. Her eyes were burning with seething rage, and her hands were on the handle of the bowgun that was slung over her back – that was enough to make the guards stop in their tracks.

"Don't get in my way," Reyn warned with a growl, and the knights were smart enough to not pursue the hunter as she disappeared up the stairs. There were other guards upstairs, they could deal with it.

As she ascended, she passed by several floors, the lowest floor containing nothing more than Guild-hired pencil-pushers hard at work. The second floor was filled with people shouting 'copy!' at each other and the smell of burning cigars, and by the time she reached the third floor she had stopped caring and decided to focus on getting to the highest floor, the office of Far-East Guild Master Bloodhart.

Lord Bloodhart was practicing his calligraphy on a piece of parchment. He was about to make an elegant stroke that would finish up his work of art, but when his door swung open and the cries of injured guards he jumped and the last stroke went awry, the ink splattering all over the parchment messily. It would have been hilarious if he had not spent two hours on that particular piece.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, looking at the huntress clad in Rathian Heart armor angrily. His mustache jumped up and down excitedly as he spoke, giving Reyn the impression that he was wearing two lively leeches on his face. It was amusing to think of, but she had more important things to do at the moment.

"Bloodhart," she growled, not bothering to use formalities. "How nice to see you drawing while us hunters are fighting in the field to feed your sorry ass."

She admitted, that had been a little overboard. Bloodhart was a good, upstanding man who was free from corruption and other immoral activities most politicians are involved in. Thankfully, the man was used to Reyn randomly busting through his door to complain about some random matter she found to be important, so he barely twitched a muscle.

"Reyn, that was the fifth door you busted through this month, and we're beginning to run out of guards willing to guard my office," Bloodhart sighed, putting a palm to his face in frustration. "And I'm not drawing, this is calligraphy. It's an art that requires years of practice to master. Now, why don't you take a seat and calm down so you can explain what frivolous nonsense you're about to spout next."

The huntress groaned, but sat down on the seat on the opposite side of his table, facing him defiantly. It was slightly uncomfortable sitting with her armor on – the scales and chainmail dug into her butt – but she decided to tolerate it for now. "Alright, good," Bloodhart said calmly, rolling up the parchment and tossing it into the bin with a pained expression on his face. "Now, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Reyn liked how Bloodhart was smart enough to get straight to the point instead of small talking. "We need to ban hunting in the Ryudo area for now."

"What?" Bloodhart had a positively incredulous look on his face. His mustache was doing the cha-cha on his upper lip. "What the hell for?"

"I found a hunter about two hours ago, in the forest. I was lost, but I suppose that was a lucky day for the hunter... he was out cold, and from the Jaggis surrounding him I guess he had been out for awhile."

"Good. Please continue."

"I scared them off and rescued the hunter, deciding to abandon my quest to save his life... then I found out several things. One, the hunter's Rathalos armor had a rotting smell, a smell usually related to the dragon element. And..." her voice trailed off as she shuddered in recollection of what she had seen, prompting Bloodhart to lean forward and ask "Then what?"

"There were dozens of carcasses littered everywhere... Aptonoths mostly, but I saw a dead Congalala and Dobolbelk too... they had massive chunks taken out of them, then were left there to rot. I saw signs of a battle too, like blood splattered all over the place that was situated far from the dead monsters. And only one monster I know has the capability to inflict dragon-elemented attacks and take such massive chunks of flesh off of so many monsters at once..."

Bloodhart leaned back in his seat with a disturbed expression on his face. "Deviljho."

There was a dull throbbing in his head, as though a Shakalaka was beating a tribal drum in his mind happily. He tried to sit up, but a lance of pain shot through his skull like a gunlance shell and forced him to stay down, making him yelp loudly. Ugh... what happened? Where am I?

He opened his eyes blearily, his vision slowly focusing and allowing him to see clearly. The light of the oil lamp above him shone into his eyes, forcing him to squint his eyes to block out the light. His head hurt, as though someone had slammed a ten-ton hammer into the back of his head, or he had knocked back one too many mugs of beer last night. A wave of nausea rolled into him as he tried to sit up again, making him groan in frustration. He couldn't move his limbs, as though they had been detached from him. He closed his eyes again, deciding to go back to sleep...

"Zephyr? Are you awake?"

So much for trying to sleep. He opened his eyes again, looking to his right where the voice had originated from, finding a male human sitting on a stool next to him. He was wearing a white robe and had thick-rimmed spectacles, and had numerous test tubes containing dubious substances strapped to his belt. A doctor? A room. Heavy drapery, for some reason. White sheets. A hospital? "Argh, my head. Where am I?"

Several possible answers shot through his mind, the answer torture chamber freaking him out slightly, but he lay on the bed for now, waiting patiently for an answer. Not like he could move anyway.

"First things first, Zephyr. Say aahhh..."

He opened his mouth wide as the doctor poured something bittersweet down his throat. After he finished gulping down the potion, he felt the throbbing in his mind subside and his mind clear up a bit, as though the fog had been blown away from his mind. He could think clearly now, and noticed a sweet aftertaste lingering in his mouth. He tried to get up again, and although he could think without feeling dizzy now, his mind was still as blank as fresh parchment. That, and he couldn't move at all. His limbs were restrained by straps that looked as firm now as they would ever be. They were tight as hell too, almost to the point of cutting off his blood circulation. He began struggling to free himself, tugging on the straps desperately.

"Let me go! Damn it!" he shouted furiously, straining himself against the straps to no avail. The damn things could have been made out of steel for all he knew. The doctor watched with an amused expression on his face as he watched him wriggle in the bed, trying to escape.

"It's no use, boy," the doctor said with a grin despite his patient's predicament. "Those straps were made out of Diablos hide – good luck trying to break them. Good thing they're working, we spent a fortune on those..."

Diablos? He thought, searching his mind. Where have a heard that name before?

Nothing came to him. Nothing at all. His mind was completely empty.

"Screw this," he muttered in defeat as he ceased his struggle. Why can't I remember...?

"I'm sure you have plenty of questions." The doctor seemed accustomed to patients like him,, judging by his calm tone. "First of all, my name is Linus, and I am a doctor in the Ryudo Hunter's Infirmary, which you are currently in if you haven't realized yet."

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked, only half joking.

Linus chuckled. "Is right. Nah, I'm here to answer any questions you might have. Which I'm certain you have plenty of, considering how Miss Reyn found you... anyway, ask away."

To be honest, he couldn't think of much to ask. "Where the hell am I?"

"You're in Ryudo Village." The doctor's expression changed, as though he was about to recite a speech he had already used hundreds of times. "A large village, situated in the far east of the continent, where two continents collide. A hunter's paradise, especially considering the masses of monsters that frequent this area..."

Hunter. The single word stirred up a small whirlwind of emotions within him. Nervousness. Fear. Pride. Sorrow. Anger. Relief.

"Oh, and this village was founded by the Guild to take advantage of the lovely wildlife here. This place has a temperate climate, so plenty of herbivores come here to feed during the harsh weather in other regions." The doctor suddenly began staring at him with a steady glare, unnerving him quite a bit – that gaze reminds me of somebody...

"Miss Reyn found you in the wilds, about... five hours ago?" Linus shrugged. "Gave me a shock when she hauled your unconscious body over to me, demanding treatment for you. She's... pretty scary when angry, you know?"

Reyn. "Reyn Theadrai?"

The doctor looked surprised. "Is right. You know her?"

A pause. "No."

Linus looked disappointed. "Are your memories gone?"

"How did you know?" He tried to get up, but the straps bound him firmly to his bed and he couldn't budge an inch. "Why can't I... remember?" A wave of sadness overwhelmed him for a moment, and for a moment he just lay on the bed, his eyes slowly tearing up. I don't remember... Why?

"Dragonblight." The doctor cleared his throat, trying to ignore the fact that his patient was about to cry. "The ailment caused by exposure to the dragon element... a rare disease indeed, only encountered by high-ranking hunters when facing an elder dragon usually. Causes temporary scrambling of brain waves and magnetism in metal armor and weapons, and in several rare cases..."

"Amnesia." His mouth spoke the words before he realized it. His head was still throbbing, but he managed to push the pain to the back of his mind – he had more important things to think of at the moment.

"Is right." The doctor looked at him strangely. "How odd, though – no known monster near Ryudo has the dragon element..."

He ignored the doctor as he descended into ramblings and searched the deep reaches of his soul. What is my name...?

"Zephyr Seraph is your name, in case you're wondering," Linus revealed as though he could read minds. "Weird name, but oh well... I saw it on your Guild Card..."

Zephyr Seraph. "I, Zephyr..." he murmured to himself, staring at the ceiling blankly. The name didn't seem to ring any bells – although he doubted there were any bells in the empty expanse of his mind anyway. A chill ran down his spine suddenly, causing him to shudder in sudden fear. Zephyr... was it really his name? It made him tremble in his skin, for some reason... but then, the feeling was gone in a flash, and he accepted the name. Zephyr. That's me.

A sudden flood of emotions rushed into him, making him gasp as the veritable hurricane of feelings and thoughts bombarded him relentlessly. Hope. Defiance. Despair. Happiness. Weariness. Guilt. All these feelings, and many more, attacked him like a starved Jaggi pack, rendering him unable to think...

Hatred.

The feeling made his skin crawl for a moment. Rage began rushing into his mind, but instead of letting the sudden feeling take over he quickly pushed it back, fighting over control of his thought processes. His breathing grew ragged for a moment as he struggled to suppress the nearly uncontrollable killing intent swelling within him, dread filling him as he thought of the consequences of his rage. Images flashed before his eyes – dead people, wearing armor, blood splattered all over the ground...

"Zephyr?" The anger dissipated instantly when he heard Linus call him with a concerned tinge to his voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, a little more forceful than he had intended. "Just spaced out a bit..." He tried to sound 'okay', but he was shivering in fear at the anger that had almost taken over him just moments ago. What was that hatred? Where did it come from? Why did it exist within him? When would it strike back? He knew it would strike again, for some unknown reason. Perhaps it was the smoldering cinders of hate that were still licking at his heart. Or the curled-up rope of dread weighing down his gut. If it tried to take over again... would he be able to suppress it again? I just lost my memories, and all this shit is happening to me now, he thought wearily. He briefly considering consulting the doctor about his problems, but quickly shot that idea down. People might think I'm a psycho, Zephyr convinced himself. He had a distrustful feeling towards the doctor – hell, towards people in general – but he pushed it away, telling himself that it was a side-effect of the... whatever blight it was called.

"Get some rest, boy," Linus said with a grin, standing up. "Sleeping–"

"A natural state of unconsciousness, a heightened state of rejuvenation," Zephyr said almost immediately, his mouth moving by its own again. "Suspended sensory activity, muscle inactivity, and helps clear a confused mind."

Both men stared at each other with equally incredulous looks on their faces. "Is right," Linus whispered with a grin.

"How the hell do I know this shit?" Zephyr asked in confusion, not knowing how he could randomly bring out tidbits of knowledge.

"That's what we'll find out tomorrow," Linus said with a wry grin. "Tomorrow, I'll conduct some tests on you... expect some horrible tasting medicine." The doctor almost cackled, much to Zephyr's chagrin. Great, strapped to a hospital bed and tortured by a doctor hours after losing his memories. What kind of medicine can be more bitter than my life?

With a defeated sigh, Zephyr muttered a reply and went to sleep, his brain shutting down surprisingly quickly. Maybe he was just tired, and his memories would return after a good nap... Feeling some hope within his heart, he drifted off into unconsciousness, his body repairing itself slowly but steadily. As his mind wandered into the dark abyss of slumber, he thought he heard the distant cackle of a madman... but dismissed it as a mere figment of his imagination and fell into a dreamless, fitful sleep.

A/N: Review please, and tell me how horrible this was.