Here I introduce a Ra'zac's POV. I realize how different his mindset will be from the Ra'zac seen in Inheritance Cycle, but these are young minds of different character, not influenced by the cruelties of the world as much. As the character developes, I really am eager on feedback. Well, more eager.
Disclaimer: Must I really keep putting these? No, I don't own Inheritance Cycle.
IV
A Ra'zac, flanked by two of his kind on his right and left, gazed over the torchlit village. Five houses and a shop occupied the small settlement. He held a bow, fashioned as similar as the human's tool as possible. He communicated in his native language to his counterparts in a series of clicks, snarls and hisses. No other race could understand their tongue.
His people had decided on a naming and ranking system. The first word would be the number of the order in which they were born, the second word chosen. His name, he decided, should be Ninth Survivor.
The hatchling to his left, Seventh Instinct, criticized Ninth for his use of human tools.
"One should use their claws and beaks to hunt, not a crutch by our prey."
First Sorrow, his name chosen for his grief at the deaths of his nest-kin, hissed, "Silence! Do not waste our time with petty squabbles when the light draws nearer."
"You're right," Instinct concurred. "Tonight we shall feast until our stomaches bulge."
Survivor snapped his beak in her direction, sickened. "Do not take what isn't needed. It is a waste to take more than what satisfies hunger. We eat to live, not for pleasure."
"You and your sentiments. Can we not enjoy ourselves this one night?"
Sorrow hissed in exasperation. "He's right. If we commit senseless slaughterings, are we no better than those who hunt us? What they did was of fear. If we do the same of pleasure, what does that make us? Ninth, cover us with that thing. Instinct and I will hunt."
The center Ra'zac clicked his beak together twice in acknowledgement, drawing the flying talons from the holder on his back, pulling on the string in preparation to release them.
Seventh Instinct and First Sorrow pulled black hoods over their heads, wrapping a cloak around them. Silently, they dove forward. First, followed by Seventh, stopped at the nearest structure, cutting around a window with their claws, setting the class gently down. Sorrow slipped through the opening, and Seventh followed. Upon halfway entering the building, a scream alerted the humans.
A man with a fire-tipped stick exited an adjacent building, shouting in a foreign tongue. Survivor slung his bow, pulled back the arrow and, aiming above the human's head, released his grip. The man fell, silenced, an arrow protruding from his neck. As Sorrow limped from the chosen structure, several more men with fire-sticks emerged, armed with shining... The Ra'zac paused to remember the human word. Swords, he decided.
Slung over his shoulder, Ninth noticed, was a smaller human. First Sorrow, his hurt talon dragging through the dirt, ducked behind cover, stalked by his own prey. Survivor fired more arrows, as the humans called them, detracting as much attention from his comrade as possible. First dashed uphill, blood trailing behind him, and pointed to a cave far behind Ninth, the night's catch limp and oozing. The catch, he realized, was a mere hatchling. He resisted the urge to hiss and darted towards the rendezvous, unrelenting to any obstacle.
Eventually he reached a clearing, and he slowed from a sprint to a walk, continuing to the mouth of a cave, where Sorrow greeted him, hunched over the corpse of a small human.
Ninth Survivor noted the hatchling's features. Above its head, fur grew, and it hung down to the creature's shoulder blades. Its talons had five prongs, which hung off of some sort of arched body part. It's claws weren't pointed, either, but white parts seemed to extend from a grayish scale.
Its face contained no beak, but instead had a long strip down the center, which widened at the end and formed two holes. Its mouth had lips and teeth, though he didn't know what they were used for. The eyes were white except for the center, which had a dark gray ring surrounding a black dot.
Sorrow groomed the gash on his leg, nibbling when the wound itched.
"Instinct is gone, lost to those wretches. Was our nest not enough for them? Can nothing satiate their desire to kill?"
"Relax, Sorrow. The world is a cruel place, and all seek to protect their young. It is nature's game." Survivor walked to his companion, nudging him with his beak in comfort.
Sorrow tensed at the contact, pulling away. "'Nature's game?!' They have removed themselves from it, killing just to kill, from fear or for any reason but 'nature's game!' They hide behind walls, recluses of survival!"
Ninth rattled his tongue in thought. Sorrow rarely lost his temper, even with the death of his friends. Then again, he and Instinct had retained a closeness of kin. They'd bonded like siblings.
The grieving hunter pulled his hood deeply over his head, struggling towards the exit of the cave.
"You seek to hunt under the light?"
The predator paused, glancing over his shoulder, then replied, "A Ra'zac should not be bound by their prey, even in death. They will know my wrath."
Ninth analyzed him. "You seek to slaughter them, to become what you despise?"
"You don't understand. Justice is valid."
"But revenge isn't justice."
"Perhaps... I have a favor to ask of you, if you're willing."
Eager to comfort his kin, he agreed.
"I am no fool; I know I shall not return. I am wounded, and I've yet to develop full use of my breath. The humans shall hunt us to no end. Remain vigilant, and bring the Ra'zac to glory."
Before he could object, his friend left left, maddened by grief.
For the first time ever, Ninth Survivor was alone.
