"…Did you know my grandfather?"

"Bugenhagen? No. He's one of the giants in the field of Planet Life studies, so I couldn't have lived here so long and not heard of him, but I didn't know him personally."

"I see… Well before your time, I suppose… We were very close, my grandfather and I. Growing up, he was the only family I had, so I came to depend on him for guidance in nearly every aspect of my life. He is the reason I am who I am today." The Candle burned steadily before me, waiting patiently for me to continue. "One of the last things he said to me… before he died… He told me to travel the planet and learn from it. To gain my own understanding of life, what it is to be alive, what is it to be a part of something greater than myself. To observe and live within the flow of Planet Life. I've been travelling ever since then… I left my home behind and travelled the world, and I've seen so many things in my travels. Years and years worth of experiences…"

Elder Nadil waited for me to continue. After a moment, she asked, "And?"

"And… I wonder if I haven't made a mistake."

…..

Thanks for reading Hunter's Mark! I hope you enjoy it. In this chapter, Nanaki searches for truth at the Cosmo Candle, and Elder Nadil puts life perspective. A pdf of the entire fourth section of the story, titled Undertow (three chapters total), and an uncropped version of the cover artwork by artist KrayTSAO are available upon request.

Undertow

Memory By Candlelight

I didn't sleep again that night. For several hours after Ruger left, I sat upstairs in the observatory at the foot of the bed that had swallowed me whole a few nights past. My mind had strayed from any sort of logical thought process, descending into the unfocused haze that usually portends sleep, but despite how long it had been since I had slept well, it did not come. There was still something on which my mind was at work, but I was unaware of what it was. I didn't feel troubled as I had earlier, so I was relatively sure Gilligan was not at work. It was some sort of synthesis of ideas, I felt, waiting to be put together; however, perhaps because of my fatigue, I was unable to gather all the parts in one place long enough to decipher them. No matter how I tried to hold on to them, they wrested themselves away and remained just far enough out of reach so that after a number of hours, I could no longer make them out against the backdrop of my subconscious. Just haze and noise.

At one point, from the edge of my perception, a sharp popping sound, barely audible, burst forth from somewhere outside, bringing me back to attention for a short moment. Fireworks, maybe? Or did I imagine that too? I waited for a few minutes, my head across my front legs and my ears perked, to see if any more fireworks were shot off or if I had, in fact, imagined it, and in the ensuing silence, an image of the Cosmo Candle developed in my head. I had no idea what time it was, but I suddenly felt like a trip to sit at the Candle's side would do me some good. After a while longer of listening to the silence, I rose to my feet, climbed the ladder down to the first floor of the observatory, and headed outside.

The rock under my feet was warm to the touch, emanating heat that warmed the air all around me. Nights in the canyon were generally cold – without the sun heating it, everything cooled off quickly after dark – but for a few months every year, the days were long enough that the heat absorbed during the day served to beat back the cold well into the night.

There was an utter lack of sound, I noticed, save for a light, warm breeze blowing in my ears. The wind carried on it a strong earthy scent that indicated to me that rain was near, but looking up, I could see no trace of it.

Not a cloud sight. The moon was just more than half full, probably the most unremarkable that it could have been, but the light it shed seemed to illuminate the canyon far beyond its expected capacity. My shadow, surrounded by a pale white light, followed me down the ladders and steps to the lowest level of the village and then shifted around behind me as I approached the Cosmo Candle. The word 'campfire' forced its way into my head, and reflexively, contemptuously, I glanced past the Candle at the makeshift camp of hunters. No one stirred. A few tents had been pitched, and a few bare sleeping bags had been laid out on the ground. All were occupied, the tents zipped shut and the sleeping bags heaving rhythmically up and down as their occupants rested. I sat down as I watched, and then a moment later, returned my gaze to the Candle.

The flames quietly danced about, full of energy as always, breathing

invisible, billowing waves of heat into my face every few seconds. The combination of undulating light and dark at the tip of the Candle was hypnotic and soothing, like a curiously silent battle, a skirmish between two bitter enemies fighting on a front that moved erratically so that neither side showed any clear advantage over the other. I wondered who might win, and what it might mean for the loser, and gradually I found my gaze drawn into the center of the flame, down toward its source. My mind wandered away from the battle and toward more esoteric matters.

What will I do about Seto? Is there nothing I can do? His appearance earlier had crushed me. Had it only been two years since last I had visited him? I couldn't remember now that I wanted to. How could his condition have changed so drastically in such a short period of time? I had no answer. I resolved after a few minutes of thought that I had somehow managed not to visit him the last time I had returned to the canyon. Which would mean… How long? Ten years? Fifteen? Was it that long ago? How could I have been away for so long? The planet is vast, but not so vast that I should have forsaken my duty to the canyon for fifteen years.

Guilty, and somewhat determined to absolve myself, I thought back and tried to walk myself through all the years prior to my last visit and summarily found that I couldn't. There was some time spent in the Zolom Marshes one year, some time in the southern forests near New Mideel another year, but I found that I was not only unable to connect what islands of memory I had into a chronological line, but I also could not recall what I had done with myself while traversing those islands. What experiences had I had in the forests around New Mideel? Why had I gone to the Zolom Marshes? Surely there was a reason, and it follows that I must have learned something from my time there. What had I taken from those experiences?

I tried to picture myself in the marshes, up to my haunches in the water. Draped against the background of the Candle, everything in my mind was tinted various shades of orange and red, ochre and umber. I saw myself in the third person, as though I were watching someone else's recording of my travels. But it's not fluid. They're just snapshots. I was there, swimming through algae-coated water, frozen mid-stroke. I was there, investigating an exotic inflorescence low to the ground, my head craned down to the earth to gain a better vantage. I was there, looking nervously across the marsh toward a horizon filled with towering white clouds, in fear of what silhouettes I might see sliding through the murk toward me. And that was it. My memory consisted of swimming, algae, a flower, and clouds. That was it. What is there to take from that?

Surely there was something more substantial that I had gleaned from my time around New Mideel. I saw upwellings of the Lifestream, after all. I observed the largest insects and perhaps the greatest diversity of plants I had ever seen. I remembered having difficulty navigating the forests at times because of how overgrown they were. I remembered a cliff hanging high above the water level along the coastline that was covered with trees out to its very edge. But again, it was all snapshots. What had I taken from the experience? The Lifestream promotes plant growth? The larger the insect the worse its attitude? Dense forest is difficult to traverse? There was nothing of even minor consequence.

…Was there ever? I watched the fire and thought, and for a long while nothing came to me. Nothing…

My thought process descended into nonlinear chaos and remained there until a voice came from behind me, softly but with enough backing to startle me slightly. "Nanaki? Is something the matter?"

As the initial shock subsided, I glanced over my shoulder to see Elder Nadil standing behind me, hands behind her back, at the edge of the step leading up to the candle. I smiled faintly and said, "There is always something, it seems."

"I figured as much. You're not usually quite so nocturnal as you appear to be tonight. Would you like some company?"

"Sure," I responded, returning my gaze to the candle.

She took a few light steps forward and sat down next to me, just inside of arm's reach from me. "So then, why aren't you sound asleep in the research center?"

"I couldn't sleep tonight," I answered somewhat bluntly, quickly following up with, "And you? Shouldn't you be asleep somewhere too?"

"The years have yet to wear on me quite so heavily as they have the other elders, Nanaki. I will sleep when sleep beckons." Elder Nadil was the youngest of the village's elders – that is not to say she was young, exactly, but at less than half Elder Phoenix's age, she was spry by any comparison. "Now, what is on your mind?" she asked.

"It's hard to say… I find it difficult to put into words. It certainly has a commanding presence in my mind, but when I try to communicate it, my words fail me."

"Give it a try. I find that the Candle has a way of remedying these problems." She smiled sweetly at me and added, "And if you still have trouble, I'll bop you on the head a few times until I knock the right words loose."

"Well then, I had better get it right the first time, eh?" I glanced over at her with an amused smile and then returned to the flames. "…Did you know my grandfather?"

"Bugenhagen? No. He's one of the giants in the field of Planet Life studies, so I couldn't have lived here so long and not heard of him, but I didn't know him personally."

"I see… Well before your time, I suppose… We were very close, my grandfather and I. Growing up, he was the only family I had, so I came to depend on him for guidance in nearly every aspect of my life. He is the reason I am who I am today." The Candle burned steadily before me, waiting patiently for me to continue. "One of the last things he said to me… before he died… He told me to travel the planet and learn from it. To gain my own understanding of life, what it is to be alive, what is it to be a part of something greater than myself. To observe and live within the flow of Planet Life. I've been travelling ever since then… I left my home behind and travelled the world, and I've seen so many things in my travels. Years and years worth of experiences…"

Elder Nadil waited for me to continue. After a moment, she asked, "And?"

"And… I wonder if I haven't made a mistake."

"Why, Nanaki? Why do you think that?"

Beyond the Candle, a hunter ambled through the dark, rifle in tow, toward a zipped tent. He glanced at me and seemed to stop just briefly before unzipping it and disappearing inside.

"I suppose it's something that's been on my mind for some time now, but my trip with Marcus out to the Ancient Forest yesterday…seeing how he worked, and how he collects his data, how he approaches the study of Planet Life… and seeing his… his enthusiasm and his thirst for knowledge… It crystallized the thought in my mind. And I tried to think back on the past hundred years of my life since I began my travels, and when I try to quantify them, to outline what I have learned in my time away, I find that I am unable. It is all trivialities – purely random events – that I remember, and they are so disconnected from each other… There has been no greater theme to my travels, and I have forgotten the majority of them already. How can I learn from something I don't remember?"

Elder Nadil was silent, perhaps thinking, putting an answer together in her head. When she spoke, there was a hint of humor in her voice. "So you wonder if it was worth it?"

"I guess."

"Nanaki, just because you can't remember something doesn't mean you haven't learned from it. I'm sure you don't remember learning to speak, but here we are having a conversation. Do you remember learning for the first time about spirit energy and the Lifestream?"

I shook my head. "No."

"And yet you now have a comprehensive knowledge of both."

"I think there is something wrong with my brain."

"Nanaki!" Nadil said, exasperated and laughing.

"I should be able to remember. There's no reason why I shouldn't. I've been across the world multiple times over. I've been travelling longer than most humans on the planet have been alive. I've done so much, and I feel that if it is important to me, I should remember it. And the fact that I don't… It means one of two things: either my travels have meant nothing, or there is something wrong with my brain. Maybe my mind is getting old before my body."

"Or perhaps you've just incorporated what you've learned so thoroughly into who you are that you don't recognize it as anything other than just… 'you.' It's just what makes Nanaki Nanaki." She poked my shoulder with her index finger each time she said my name for emphasis. "Is that possible?"

Begrudgingly, I admitted it was possible. "I just worry about what experiences I may forget. I'm nearly two hundred years old and I can't even remember fifteen years ago."

"Nanaki!" she responded in the same tone as before. "I can hardly remember what I did yesterday morning, let alone what I did on a given day fifteen years ago. You should know by now, memory just doesn't work like that. Our minds have only so much capacity. There are only so many connections that our brains can make. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just a limit of being human. Or… well, you know."

I smiled. "I do. I guess… I guess I just don't want to lose those memories though. I gave up my home here in the canyon a long time ago so that I could travel, and the memories are all I have now. They are a part of me, and when I forget them, it's like forgetting who I am… Where I came from. Does that make sense?"

"Marginally." Nadil brushed my shoulder lightly with the tips of her fingers. "It's hard to put myself in your shoes being that I haven't experienced everything you've experienced. Even harder given that you've still got so long to add to your pool of knowledge." She paused for a second. "Also, you don't wear shoes. But I understand. How are you on money right now? Elder Phoenix tells me you were raked over the coals by a cab driver on your way here."

"It was nothing major. Costa del Sol's just a lot farther than I remembered."

"Well if you have the money and you're seriously concerned, then you might think about buying a tape recorder to record your thoughts. They aren't that expensive these days."

The thought had never occurred to me. "That might be a good idea."

"I think so. In any case, I don't think your mind is going, Nanaki. If it was something like that, I'm sure you would feel it."

We sat in silence for some time and watched the Candle burn. Eventually my front legs grew weary, and I lay down. I still could not sleep, but my mind had slowed down at least. The flames and the Elder had seen to that.

"I'm not sure what you meant when you said you gave up your home, Nanaki," Nadil said after a while. "You don't view Cosmo Canyon as your home anymore?"

"…I'm not sure. I've been away far longer than I've been here, and… it's so different now from what it was."

"We've been welcoming, haven't we?"

"Yes, overwhelmingly so, but… that's not it. It would be foolish to think that life hasn't gone on here while I've been away. Coming back for a week every couple years doesn't mean anything, and it's been like that for so long… I just don't feel like there's a place here for me anymore. I appreciate how welcoming everyone has been, but I know I'm nothing more than a guest these days."

"You're determined to be unhappy, aren't you? Where is your home if not here in the canyon?"

"…I don't know that I have one. I don't know that I'm meant to. I mean, travelling as I do, as I have, I'm never in one place very long. I can't really get to know anyone, let alone assimilate into a community."

"Is that why you've been so distant?"

"Distant?"

"Elders Aren and Phoenix have noticed it too. When you returned home two years ago, and particularly during your stay this time. You've isolated yourself."

"That's not true… I've spoken with everyone in the canyon since I arrived, including the hunters. I spoke to the entire village at once right here the other night, and I was with Marcus the entire day yesterday."
"And yet the only people you've really spoken to have been Marcus and the hunter, Onuris. And now myself as well. There's a difference between telling a story and conversing with someone, a difference between small talk and meaningful dialogue. You're smart enough to know that, and I'm surprised you think I can't tell the difference."

I dropped my head in silence.

"It's something you do to yourself, you know. Using your travels as an excuse to isolate yourself is…unfortunate. You are such an amiable soul… it seems a shame to wall yourself off as you do. There are a lot of people here who really want to know you better, but as long as you choose to distance yourself, that can't happen."

"Perhaps it's for the best then. Nothing ventured, nothing lost."

"You can't possibly mean that. If you're trying to be true to the promise you made to your grandfather, you can't possibly mean that. Is what you're doing really 'living within the flow of Planet Life?' Can you really develop an understanding of something you refuse to take part in?"

I knew the answer was 'no,' but for some reason I couldn't make myself say it.

Nadil watched for a moment, letting her words sink in. "Nanaki…" she continued. "There is more to life than collecting data in a notebook or seeing the four corners of the world, and there is more to home than spending an extended period of time in one place. And you can be sure, no matter how long you're away, that Cosmo Canyon will be waiting for you when you choose to return home. Okay?"

I nodded. "…I'm sorry," I half-whispered.

Nadil smiled, reaching her arm out and patting me on the back. "No worries. We all need a little guidance from time to time. And in any case, I didn't have to bop you on the head to get the right words out."

Nearly half an hour passed after that, the two of us sitting side by side, watching the Candle flicker in the night. I nearly fell asleep twice, both times having instead jerked back awake. It was mildly annoying, but still, given my difficulty sleeping over the last two or three days, it was a good sign.

The second time I failed to fall asleep, I heard a slight chuckle from Elder Nadil at my side. "Nodding off, are you Nanaki?"

I yawned and said back to her, "Perhaps in a bit."

Another few minutes passed and then she spoke again. "What is your opinion of Onuris?"

"Mm?" I had again drifted off a bit, missing the question in the process.

"Onuris. You're the only one he's really spoken to since he arrived. He seems very interested in you, so I wondered what you think of him."

"Oh…" I sat back up on my haunches and yawned again. "Honestly, I couldn't say. It's difficult to make heads or tails of him. He's been a hunter essentially since he was born, says he doesn't 'believe' in the flow of Planet Life. Can't remember my name to save his life. I don't know… He seems observant, at times rather surprisingly insightful, so I don't understand some of his idiosyncrasies. He's… different…" I thought for a moment, staring straight ahead sleepily. The air had finally started to cool in the village, but the waves of heat from the Candle kept any shivering I might have done at bay. "Perhaps if I showed him Grandfather's planetarium... Do you know why it isn't working?"

"I have no idea how that machine works. Didn't even know it was broken honestly. I think you're best served asking Elder Aren about it. He's been in charge of the research center in your absence, so if anyone knows, it will be him. But… So you're okay with Onuris?"

"We differ on some fundamental views about the nature and value of life, so I do have my reservations, I think, but beyond that I think he's just your average human. I guess you can take that as you will."

Elder Nadil knew my opinion of humanity was somewhat less than pristine, and while she wished that I would find a way to improve my opinion, she took my words on Ruger without so much as an argument. I saw shortly that her opinion of him was quite a bit lower than mine. "I see. Then you don't get the impression that there's something going on here that he hasn't mentioned yet?"

I was surprised. "You're the second person tonight to say something like that. Marcus was up to the observatory earlier expressing the same concerns."

"What did he say, exactly?"

I had to think about it before I could remember. "He said there are rumors that Ruger is here under false pretenses. Seems to think he's here after me, and the white hippogriff people think he's after is just a cover. Marcus says he's heard the other hunters talking when they think no one is listening, making…objectionable remarks about how I would look as a trophy."

"So he's heard them too… Oh, I hope he doesn't try to confront any of them over it. He's so bright, but he's so impulsive too… He could get himself into trouble."

"Wait, so you've heard the same things from the hunters?"

"Yes. They hardly even try to hide it. And when I look at that man, Onuris… I can see something in his eyes… Something he's withholding from us…"

I had taken Marcus's earlier comments with some modicum of skepticism, but the exact same sentiments now coming from an Elder too gave me true cause for concern. "Well I can assure you, it will take more than one bullet to do me in. And if anyone cares to test that out, famous hunter or otherwise, my claws will find them before they have a chance to react."

"Do not underestimate the power of these hunters' weapons, Nanaki. They have felled greater beasts than you with ease. You would be foolish to act recklessly when naught but a bullet stands between you and the end of your life."

"I've had a rifle or two pointed at me in my time, Elder. I know how to handle those situations."

The concern on Nadil's face matched closely what I had seen on Marcus's face earlier in the night. She didn't say a word to me. I had not satisfied her request.

"And of course I handle them with the utmost care so as not to end up shot."

She smiled in response and said, "Okay." Reaching forward, she placed her hands on either side of my head and turned it to face her. We looked each other in the eye for a moment, and I saw hints of tears in her eyes. "I don't know what I would do if I couldn't look forward to speaking with you again, Nanaki. So be careful. Please."

With that said, she leaned in and kissed the top of my head lightly. I could do nothing but look through her into the ground. The occasion suddenly felt so solemn that I was afraid to speak. In my ear the flame of the Candle crackled quietly, the only audible sound in the night. I was both happy and sad to hear Elder Nadil's concern for me, and as I sat there in her embrace, I realized I felt content for the first time since returning to the Canyon.

"Now then," she said, standing to her feet. "Sleep beckons. Will you be turning in soon as well?"

"I believe so. It's been a very long day."

"Sleep well then, Nanaki."

"I'm sure I will. You too."

Elder Nadil smiled again and left, returning to her hut for whatever was left of the night. I sat in my spot, thinking.

Distant… Perhaps it's not so much that my travels have been wasted as it is that I've just missed the point. I wonder how to go about fixing it. How to stop being… distant. The question mystified me – the longer I thought about it, the less sure I became of the answer. Still, I put my mind to the problem. Surely, there had to be something… I was lost in thought for quite some time before I gradually became aware of the sensation that I was being watched.

I looked around, but the village was completely still. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long, deep shadows across the canyon. My sight tracked over to the tent into which the hunter had disappeared earlier in the night. It was zipped tight. I scanned all of the huts perched on the face of the high rise. Nothing. Eventually, my sight came to rest on the entrance to the pub. It hung open, apparently having not been closed for the night since the inn was booked. Beyond the doorway there was nothing but blackness, but as I strained to see through it, I thought I could make out a humanoid figure inside, sitting at one of the tables.

A pang of shock and dread struck me as I saw it. The fur on the back of my neck stood up around my mane. Is it here again? I quickly stood up, my eye trained on the darkness in the doorway. I waited for a few seconds, expecting the figure inside to move or pursue me as it had down in the GI caves, but it was motionless. I took a few cautious steps back and then turned and loped up the steps and ladders to the observatory without looking back.