4
Embers of Reason
Wolstan walked at the end of the wagon train, keeping an eye out for bandits or monsters. There weren't many places for humans to hide among the scattered rocks that dotted sand and hardened soil. They had left the forest earlier that morning and were expected to reach Tulla's Font late in the afternoon. His boots left slight footprints that were always filled in by the ones who walked behind him.
He looked up at the sky under the shade of his tricorn hat. The blue sky was still foreign to him. He doubted that he would ever grow used to the endless vast expanse of blue. He had briefly seen the sunset in Yharnam, then the night had come. Followed by that paleblood sky with the ceaseless cries of the child.
The girl, the daughter of Hank and his wife Sybell often watched him when she thought he wasn't looking. She sat inside the cart, looking back at him while her father and mother sat at the front. She kept lifting her thumb to her mouth, but it never made it past her lips before she placed it in her lap. A curious little quirk.
Wolstan drew his gaze to the back of the now head guard Cal. He walked near the front of the formation, his back straight as a board. His shield was on his back and his sword on his hip. From what little Wolstan had conversed with him, he knew that he was a by the book ex-soldier. Not that he had many dealings with those types of people. Or maybe those memories had been forgotten during that long night.
Slow footsteps let the carts pass until they were walking beside Wolstan's. Veil walked at his side, her steps the steady cadence of an experienced fighter. She had taken it upon herself to teach him of the world. She had seemed wary of him at first but had accepted him far faster than the other guards.
"Wolstan, what do you think of the world now that you know a little more about it?" She was curious about his views as they were someone's who didn't know this world. It was obvious that he was a long way from home, and she had given him the perfect excuse to not know anything, as a proclaimed amnesiac.
"This world is… different from what I remember. People don't die here if the monsters can help it." He paused and Veil let him think. After minutes of silence, he spoke again. "There's a strange disconnect for me so I can't say that I have an opinion yet."
"You haven't told me what you do remember. Tell me, what world did you come from? Despite what I said, I don't believe that you have forgotten your memories."
"What makes you think that?"
"It's obvious that you hold a heavy weight on your shoulders. Your eyes are haunted with what you have done or witnessed. What I said was mostly for the caravan's people to put them at ease. Cal and us veteran guards recognize the weight of such things." She gave him a sideways look. "I'm curious what kind of world you came from."
He weighed the pros and cons about telling her. He could be taken as a madman if he told her the whole truth and saying he didn't remember might annoy her. She had done her best to make him welcome into the group with only a few words and actions, but it had been enough.
"What I remember is a world full of beasts and blood. Many hunters, like me, died on the streets of a city called Yharnam. I don't remember a time before the hunt, so your lie does have a ring of truth in it."
"Nice to know that I'm not fully lying for you. These beasts, were they monsters like the mamono?"
"No, nothing like them. They would rather kill and eat your corpse than have relations with you." He considered her face which was half hidden under her namesake. Her eyes narrowed in thought and her eyebrows scrunched together.
"That sounds so alien to me. If it weren't for your eyes I wouldn't even have considered it possible. It's true that the demon queen had made our world like this after many years of violence and bloodshed but still…" She trailed off in thought. It just seemed so odd that monsters would want to kill and eat people instead of trying to procreate with them. What was the worst fate? Death at the risk of it being drawn out while you're being eaten or becoming a lust filled maniac that preys upon others?
"There is one thing that remains the same in both our worlds," Wolstan said quietly. "It's that the greatest monsters come from humans."
"How could you say that?" Veil rebuked him. "These monsters come from the demon lord."
"And yet, humanity's greatest hero turned against you all. It was like that in my world as well. The greatest hunters, the most devout of the Healing church, all turned into the worst kinds of beasts." He looked at her with empty eyes. "Each and every time that a monster takes a human, that human becomes an enemy of mankind. The stronger they are, the greater the threat."
"I… can certainly see where you're coming from." They listened to the creaking of the wheels for a few minutes while Veil gathered her thoughts. "Okay, here's a difference. Usually when a musume gets a husband, as they call it, they usually stay off the front lines and are content to reside in whatever hole they live in."
"It still amazes me that there are still humans in this world. I would think the musume vastly outnumber humans."
"It's all thanks to the church. Praise be." She threw up her hands in a mockery of prayer. "That's the problem, they don't really have to do anything. We'll self-destruct on our own with suicide charges."
"In either world, it seems the church has a hand in salvation and destruction. Do the gods in this world listen to your prayers?" His words echoed that of Micolash. Ah, Kos… or some say Kosm… Do you hear our prayers? He shook his head to clear the vagrant thoughts.
"The gods certainly exist. Which is why we have heroes." Veil cleared her throat after a moment of silence. "Here is another difference between the monsters of your world and mine. It sounded like the beasts from your world had low if any intelligence. While the musume here have a frightening degree when they can put aside their lust."
"And that comes to one of my problems." Memories of Djura surfaced for a moment. Retired and old. Waiting for death.
"That being?" Veil asked him.
"How much right do I have killing intelligent beings? I have killed humans before but I have never hunted them. And the ones I did kill were drunk upon blood." A flash of memory took hold over him for a moment. The master of the clock tower resting in her chair. "At least, the exceptions were few."
Veil narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. "You're trying to find justification to kill them, aren't you? Why?"
"Because I've seen hell. Lived it. There is a very good chance I could kill a musume that had a husband in the future. And from what you've said, there are musume that co-exist at the same time with humans without assaulting them. Can I justify it to myself to end lives knowing this?" He had respected Djura's decision in leaving the beasts alive in old Yharnam. But he himself had never seen the point. Once someone turns into a beast, they can't come back. These musume are governed by a rational mind. Killing those who still held their sanity hurt…
"Is it rational to be guided by one's lust?" She let the question hang in the air for a moment. "In the end, it's your decision. You won't find the answer you're looking for by simply talking to me. Just remember that being wishy-washy won't get you anywhere except in a musume's bedchamber."
"I'll keep it in mind," he sighed out.
She looked at him for a moment and changed the subject. "I would have never pegged you for the sort to be so into philosophy."
"In my quieter moments, I managed to read some of the books the scholars had left lying around." Byrgenwerth, where knowledge had ended up. The church, where knowledge had been kept secret. And the fishing hamlet, where it had begun.
"That explains it." Veil patted him on the shoulder before striding ahead. "When we reach Tulas Font, I'll have a question to ask you."
"I'll look forward to it." She waved without looking back. Wolstan shook his head at her retreating figure. Questions he could answer. Even the ones he had asked her. This back and forth he had about the musume was nothing more than a ghostly formality. He would kill and slaughter just like he did in Yharnam. The beasts that could think, were among the worst.
It was near the end of the day when the caravan reached Tulla's Font. It was a small trading village used to head inward towards the great river Nilalus where all the major cities lay in the desert. However, at this moment Tulla's was being used as an escape point from the recently awakened Pharaoh, who had claimed a vast portion of the land for herself.
The situation in Tulla's Font was that of men and women milling about the small village with bands of children roaming around underfoot. The Font the town was named was located in the middle of the village square. It was always surrounded by men and women gathering the limitless water from its basin. A statue of the Saint Tulla from long ago who had blessed the font stood above them all, watching the people with kind eyes.
Hank surveyed the situation in the village as his caravan came rolling in. No doubt many would leave with him in the next few days. Always a merchant he was busy calculating how much coin this could bring him. If he let kindness take over then he could very well end up with not just a loss in profits, but a detrimental setback that would hound him for years.
As soon as the caravan came close to the village the refugees surrounded his wagons. Cal immediately yelled for the guards to move the refugees away from the wagons for the caravan's safety. Wolstan's presence on his side kept the refugees away from the carts while the other guards struggled a fair amount.
"Back! Back if you still want the water from the Font! I swear that if you don't step away from the carts then I'll take the water away from you all!" The crowd of people parted as a large man shouted at them all and walked through those who didn't get out of the way fast enough. He wore a brown long multi-layered garment that fell to his feet. He had a head full of short dark hair with browned skin.
"Haas, it's good to see you." Hank strode away from the safety of the carts to greet the large man. Haas shook Hank's hand and clapped him on the back.
"Good to see you too Hank!" he bellowed in a loud voice. He looked around at the crowd. "Go on, get out of here!" He made shooing motions with his hands and the crowd started to disperse. "I'm glad you've come. These people have almost eaten us out of house and home."
"Has the situation truly devolved this quickly?" Hank asked as the two of them headed back towards the carts. "Pharaohs have woken up before and they weren't this bad." He glanced towards his people around the carts who were being greeted by people who had made this village their home.
"It's gotten to the point where sane people want nothing to do with the desert. The greatest city in all the desert has been taken by its ancient queen." He halted Hanks' further questions with a hand. "I'll tell you more later but first we'll have to unload what you've brought. We'll take everything. The inn won't have any space, but my home can accommodate your family. The rest will have to sleep with the wagons."
Hank put on a merchant's smile as Haas shouted at his workers to start unloading. No leader would just take goods without inspecting them first which meant that Haas was probably going to ask him for a favor. Him putting up his family for the night was also a way to put him in his debt. "I expected as much when I saw all the tents around the village. I thank you for providing my family a place to rest."
"Think nothing of it. Now come, let us get this done." He walked over to the men and women unloading the cargo. Hank followed him while shaking his head.
Wolstan and the other guards stood watch as the waggoneers unloaded their cargo. Hank and the man called Haas watched over the cargo as it was being moved into the village storehouse and inn. As the last of it was being moved the sky had darkened so that the sky was streaked with reds and oranges. Cal walked up to Wolstan as some children were scared off by his glare.
"Wolstan, you've done a good job in helping bring us here." He grabbed at a pouch at his waist and held it for Wolstan to take. "Here's your pay for all the help. I'd ask you to help guard us on the way back but I doubt you'd say yes." There was still something dark about this man that the caravan had picked up along the way. But he was a diligent man who never slacked off and a good arm in a fight which were both amazing qualities in a guard.
"No, I don't think I want to." Wolstan slowly shook his head. "I'm not sure where I'll be heading after this so I might take you up on that offer."
"I won't count on it. It is a shame to lose two valuable guards at the same time, but it is what it is." Cal started to walk off and said, "Feel free to eat at the inn tonight, they left some seats for us even if we're to sleep in the cold." Wolstan was tempted to ask him who else was leaving the caravan. He kept silent as it really wasn't his question to ask. Food did sound good, and his stomach rumbled in response to this thought.
Freed from his obligations, he made his way over to the inn which doubled as a tavern. It was a large square building made of white stone. It had two stories with what seemed like a way onto the roof. As he walked into the dim inn it still struck him as odd that he needed to eat and would often forget until told to by Veil. Which brought up another point. He hadn't had blood ministration since coming to this world. The odd thing was that he didn't feel the need to inject himself with blood. The near addiction that he'd had in Yharnam was gone and in its place was food.
They weren't serving from a menu, they had too many people for that. Instead, they served the same thing to everyone. He handed a coin over at the counter and received a plate in return. He made his way over to a corner so that he could watch the bar and door at the same time.
The food looked to be a mixture of what he had with the caravan as well as the region's version of food. He took a bite and enjoyed the pleasure of the spices washing over his tongue. However, this didn't distract him from watching the common area out of habit. Which is why he wasn't surprised when Veil sat across from him with a plate full of food. She undid one side of the veil across her face and hooked it on the other side so that it fell from one ear.
Wolstan crooked an eyebrow at her as she started to dig into her food. Her face hadn't exactly been hidden but the veil did hide how full her lips were and the soft curve of her nose. Combined with her large brown eyes she was a beautiful woman. She looked up at him and crooked an eyebrow back at him.
"Do you have something to say?" she asked with a slight grin. At the corner of her mouth sat a beauty mark.
"I thought that you wore a veil as a sort of religious significance." He gestured with his hand to the side. "I don't think I saw you eating with the rest of us with it off on the way here."
"There's no real significance to it other than a generational quirk that has been passed down." She took a bite of the food and savored it with her eyes closed. She swallowed and then continued talking. "And since it became my namesake in guard work I kind of have to wear it as nobody will know who I am without it. But what about you? You could use a shave."
Wolstan brought up a hand to his chin and felt the movement of short hairs being brushed the wrong way. "I'll take it under advisement." They ate in silence together for some time. He finished the last bite on his plate and looked at Veil. "Did you want to ask me something when we got here?"
"I did." She pointed her fork at him. "Although you could be more delicate about it. Women vastly prefer men who can read the room you know."
He ignored her last comment. "You've seen the weapon I use." He spread a hand, out to the side. "Do I really seem the sort to be delicate?"
"I think that you could be if you tried." She thought back to the fight with the goblins. Despite his demented weapon he had moved with grace and precision. "Otherwise, why would you carry that sword with you?" She nodded towards the great sword leaning against the wall.
"That is a memento. I only use it when I must. Otherwise," he indicated the Saw Cleaver at his back. "I use this."
Veil sniffed and let it go. "You haven't decided on what you'll be doing now that your job with the caravan is over now right?"
"That is correct. I could use this time to think about my next move. Staying in this village to think about life could be a good change of pace."
"You see, I don't think you are a man who simply thinks when they can act." She tapped her knuckle lightly on the table. "No, I think you're the sort of man who can only think while they act."
"I could guard the caravan wherever they're going next." That sounded like a pale lie even to his ears.
"But you won't. You would have given Cal your affirmative already." She smiled brightly at him. "Which is why I have a job for you."
"You're leaving the caravan too are you?" It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement. Cal must not have been happy that she was going to leave.
"The desert is my home. My family's home. I want to see what has become of them now that a new pharaoh has risen to power. Rumor has it that her tomb was right below the great city of Thalsun. She was sleeping peacefully until some grave robbers stumbled into her chambers."
"So, she woke up from their intrusion? Did the refugees tell you this?" Fear often distorts the facts of any given situation. Any information they had to tell had to be examined from every angle.
"They did, so the information is dubious at best. What we do know is that she awoke and started to stretch her hands across the desert kingdoms. This is why I came this way in the first place. You just happened to appear at the right time. And you have a strong arm, so I feel as if you could watch my back. I only have to worry about appearing incompetent in your eyes."
"Why would that be?"
"You move through musume so efficiently. Like a butcher with his carcasses." She gave him a near feral grin. Then she sat back and lifted her hands in a shrug. "I also find your company pleasing which means that I can work with you."
"This is why you so readily taught me on our trip here? I'm ashamed that I didn't see through your kindness." He chastised himself as he had failed to find her true intentions. He didn't mind it but in the future, he would have to be wary of opening up to people.
"Everything has a purpose as well as a price. Although you could still say no." She put the veil back, covering her lower face once more. The end of it touched just below her collarbone. "But I have a feeling that you will say yes. To cover debts that don't need covering. And maybe to find yourself in the process."
Wolstan held his hands out in a warding gesture. "Alright, you win. I'll go with you."
"I knew you'd say yes. As thanks," she leaned over and picked up his plate. "I'll take your plate back for you.
"Am I going to regret this?" he asked, mainly to himself.
"Anything worth doing in life is bound to have the risk of regrets with it." She stood up with both plates. "We'll leave in a couple days, after the caravan has left. Feel free to relax until then." She left to go to the bar to drop off the plates and dishware.
Wolstan was at peace with his decision. Which surprised him. Every decision made in Yharnam was made with what seemed like there was no choice at all and sat in his mind as a great weight. Even his companion this time was different. She looked to be full of life unlike the hunters who had grown numb wading through death. How numb had he been before coming to this world? He was changing for better or for worse.
"We've been having troubles in the desert lately. Caravans aren't coming through anymore from Thalsun. Many have fled as no one wants to be under the new pharaohs rule as a monster. The problem is that, unlike other pharaohs who woke up in random pyramids throughout the desert, she was buried in a tomb under Thalsun."
Mindy sat at the chief of the village's dinner table listening quietly as Haas explained the situation to her father and mother. The food was the same as the last time she had come here. But she barely tasted it.
"I thought all pharaohs were entombed in pyramids," Hank said in response. "How old is this pharaoh if she came before those? Who is she?"
"The people think that it's Nefer-ra. The oldest and wisest of the pharaohs. But other than these speculations we don't have much to go on." Haas looked at the wall of his home for a moment before focusing back onto Hank. "What I do know from more sensible people is that the queen's influence stretches up and down the river Nilalus. Which means that for people who don't want to turn into musume have no choice but to run for the borders."
"There are some nations of musume that deal with humans fairly without forced monsterization. Such as Zipangu. Are you sure that this will be the same as with the other pharaohs who awoke?" Even as he said it, Hank knew that what he asked was in vain. The desert kingdoms that had reemerged were places of debauchery. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He put aside his merchant ways for a moment to cut to the heart of the matter. "What is it that you want Haas?"
"Cutting to the core of the matter, are you?" Haas smirked but let it subside after a moment. "I want you to guide the refugees out of the desert. They could go by themselves, but they would be safer with your caravan."
"There's no profit in it," Hank refused him flatly. "As it stands, we're not even getting some of what I bargained on getting when I came this way."
"I am willing to part with coin Hank. The richer refugees are also willing to pay. Just let my coin be for the poorer ones."
"You're staying here in Tulla's then?" Hank asked, incredulously.
"Of course. It's my home." Haas gave him a somber look. "I won't leave nor will those under my care leave willingly."
"You're a damn fool," Hank whispered. This trip might very well be the last time the two saw each other. It wouldn't be safe for merchants to visit the desert anymore and Tulla's Font, despite being on the desert's outer edge would be left to fend for itself. It would be swallowed by the musume eventually.
Mindy got up from the table leaving behind a clean plate. She walked silently from the room and left the house. The village was quiet now that the sun had set below the horizon. Most of the refugees had gone to their tents or to the inn to eat. Some still waited next to the font of water at the center of the village.
She brought her thumb up to her mouth and tapped it against her lips. What was going to happen to Haas and the village? She wasn't particularly close with anyone here but she did have casual relationships with them. It was the same in every village, town or city she visited with her family. Would they all really go away? Would she never see them again?
Her thumb slid past her lips and in between her teeth to gently bite down on it. A great queen sat on her seat with a hand to her head. A headdress of gold adorned her head. She looked down upon the great city below her palace with contempt. Her eyes were heavily laden with bright white makeup that stood out against her dark skin. Her lips were painted with the same color, but her eyes were as golden as the sun.
She wore a white gown that was tight against her body. It showed off all her curves as well as being open on her thighs and back. Gold rings decorated her fingers. Bracelets full of jewels clacked together on her wrists and ankles when she shifted her weight.
Her eyes moved slowly, heavily to stare straight at Mindy. The queen blinked and Mindy's vision was sent to a vast stretch of white land. The land bore endless scratch marks upon its surface. The sun shone brightly overhead, scorching the endless plane.
Then rain began to fall as heavy footsteps echoed across as the hunter trekked across the barren land. His shadow stretched far behind him into a vast distance. Mindy's teeth split the skin of her thumb and followed that shadow to its origins. To a small garden at the very depths of a dream. Into a doll's waiting arms.
Mindy unclenched her jaw and spat out the blood that had been pooling in her mouth. What was that? She hadn't meant to follow the trail. She stopped her thought process for a moment. A simple turn in the trail. She looked up towards the stars in the sky and let her thumb bleed out onto the sand below.
Wolstan stood at the edge of the village looking out over the desert. He considered the saw and sword strapped to his back. Was he really going to just kill and spread even more blood everywhere? Wasn't that what had started the nightmare in Yharnam in the first place?
"Oh, good hunter, " a soft familiar voice whispered from behind. The hairs on his back stood up on end and chills ran throughout his body. Wolstan whirled around expecting to find the doll standing there, looking down at him kindly. Instead, it was the girl, Mindy who was a little tall for her age. She looked up at him with her large green eyes and had taken a step back by his sudden movement.
Wolstan breathed slowly. This wasn't the hunter's dream. He was in a world populated him sex crazed monsters, not a world where beasts gnawled at bone to get at the merrow within. He cleared his dry throat and asked softly, "What is it?"
"Do you really believe that your heart is dead?"
"I'm sorry?" he asked in bemusement. This was not a normal conversation that he was having. It was almost like she saw beyond him.
"You still have a choice. Kill or grant mercy." She spread her hands out to the side. "What you do will influence who you become."
"Even if I've killed more than my fair share already?" Wolstan asked. The lives he had taken weighed heavily upon him. All of the hunters who were lost. Those who did their duties to the end.
"You are still growing, absorbing what you see now. Do you not remember that you have forgotten everything prior to the hunt?"
"What do you know?" his voice grew rougher, harsher. "What do you know about me?"
"Nothing. But I can see the potential that you have. You can be as large or as small as you want." She turned around to head back to the village chief's house.
"Hold on!" He reached out a hand to grab onto her shoulder.
"Do not touch me!" She turned her head back to glare at him with her green eyes. "Not with those hands. Not as they are now." Her thumb bled into the sand below, creating a small pool. He withdrew his hand and watched as she walked back to one of the houses and went inside with light spilling out for a moment before vanishing.
That was the strangest interaction that he's had in this world so far. He looked at his hand. It certainly looked like he had used it enough times. He shook off the cobwebs gathering in his mind and collected some stray scraps of wood that the refugees had yet to collect themselves. He walked out into the desert, far enough away from the village that he could only just see the fires and lights from the windows gleaming onto the sand.
He plied his wood together and set about making a small fire. It didn't have to last for long. Just long enough to reflect on what he was doing. As well as getting rid of a potential pest. He sat down before it and poked at the wood with a stick. He had planted the Moonlight Sword into the sand on his right. Now he took the Saw Cleaver from his back and placed it on his lap. It's metal glinting in the faint firelight.
He pulled down the bandana and breathed out slowly. Sometimes he could still hear them, no matter how far he ran away. The cries of the damned. The blood raining all around him. Killing beasts throughout the long night had gotten to him near the end. It wasn't that they had been once human like how Durja had seen it. No, it was simply a tiredness from how much killing had to be done. But there was nothing else he knew how to do. Even now in this strange land all he could do was kill.
He leaned his head back and looked up towards the many stars in the sky. Dreams haunted him every night since the hunt ended. The time in between the hunt and this world was hazy at best but those dreams stayed with him. Blood-soaked fields filled with the dead and the dying. Oceans of water, always drowning. The scent of blood and the stars stayed with him to varying degrees.
He put down the Cleaver and reached for the Sword and held it in his hands. Starlight danced in the sword, but it would not speak to him like it had Ludwig. It was a meaningless light compared to the beings that had called the stars their home. And yet, they were perfectly at peace in crypts beneath Yharnam. He shoved the sword in the sand again and stood up. He took off his coat and placed it on the swords handle, letting the faint desert winds ruffle the coat. He walked away from the fire and stood out in the open, waiting.
He stood in silence with only a faint wind as company. The few plants that made their home in this climate rustled back at the wind, angry to be disturbed. He shut his eyes to the stars and listened to the world speak to him. He relaxed his fists and let his shoulders relax.
A rustle in the sand was all the sound the werewolf Tira made before leaping towards Wolstan's neck from behind. The best way to end it would be instantly for Tira as the longer it went on the less of a chance, she would have to turn him. He was far more experienced than she was.
Wolstan fell to his haunches and rolled under her leap. Tira landed on the ground and quickly turned around to leap at Wolstan again. One bite or a scratch would do and then he would be hers. Her face met a dark cloth the moment she turned, blinding her vision. Then a hard blow slammed into her face, sending her sprawling onto her back with his tricorn hat covering her face.
Wolstan kicked Tira over and stepped onto the small of her back. She scrabbled around, kicking up sand trying to get away. He leaned forward, pressing her down against the ground. She tried to turn her claws to scratch at him, but her position wasn't good enough to try and get through his clothes.
She stopped struggling for a moment before bracing her hands underneath her. She pushed up, sending Wolstan stumbling back. She ripped off the hat off of her face and threw it back at him. He stepped to the side avoiding it. They both stopped for a moment, contemplating each other. Firelight danced in Tiras' eyes while Wolstan's were like calm lakes.
Tira kicked out to the side, sending the embers of the fire towards Wolstan's face. He stepped back and Tira bolted towards him. He'd underestimated her strength and speed. It wasn't like a werewolf from his world, but she was fast enough. He used his hand to shove it into her mouth. Not deep enough to get in the way as she locked her jaw around his hand.
Her teeth pierced through his glove and she tasted the slight tang of blood. Her mana would be sent coursing through him in a few moments, turning him into her husband.
She let go much to Wolstan's surprise. She bounded backwards and watched him. He lifted his hand to inspect the damage. Only small holes where her teeth had sunk into the glove. He flexed his hand to find no problems with his joints. Why was she just staring at him with anticipation?
Then he remembered one of the lessons that Veil had taught him. Musume would inject their mana into someone to turn them. Or at the very least to drive them made with lust. He doubted he could trick the werewolf that he had fallen under her spell as she could probably smell when something went into heat. Instead, he rushed forward with his fist cocked at his side.
Tira stared at him in confusion as he headed towards her. The mana wasn't working. Why was that? She snapped out of her daze too late as his fist drove into her stomach hard. She was lifted up off of the ground and flew backwards to land onto the sand several feet away. Shy lay there trying to catch her breath.
Wolstan calmly grabbed his Saw Cleaver made his way over to her. He planted his boot onto her throat. Her eyes went wide as she saw the cleaver. She tried to grab at his boot, but she was too out of sorts to try and get him off. Most of all she still didn't have enough air in her lungs.
He held the cleaver to her neck, just to the side of his boot. One slice and her blood would stain the sand beneath them. It would be the easiest thing in the world and yet the conversations that he's had for the past few days stopped him. Mindy and Veil's voices echoed in his head.
What did he want to do in this world? What did he want to accomplish? Was there any point after all the beasts he had slain? The hunters he killed in the pursuit of moving forward.
Tira's struggling grew weaker and her hands fell onto the sand at her sides. Wolstan lifted his foot slightly, allowing her to breathe. She gulped in vast amounts of air before he pressed down again. He leaned down to look into her wide white eyes. He let the Cleavers edge rest against her neck, a faint trickle of blood leaked and stained her white fur.
"If I ever see you again, hunting me, I will kill you. But first I will skin the pelt from your hide after dragging your limbless body across the ground. During all of this you will be alive until I finally slit your throat. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," her voice cracked loudly. Tears ran from her eyes in fear. She didn't want to die yet. He released her neck and kicked her away. She scrambled to her feet and ran on all four limbs. She ran from the scent of the moon and blood. His shadow clinging to her back.
Wolstan watched her run off into the night. Was this the right decision? He didn't know. He wouldn't know until he lay dying in his own pool of blood when the day of his death came. He knew that his end would not come quietly. It would end like he had ended so many others.
Feet crushing on sand reached his ears and it was no surprise when Veil stood at his side. "Why did you let her go?" Veil asked. "She'll just follow you again. It's in her nature. The strong dominate the weak and the weak shall serve the strong."
"I know," he said softly. "But this isn't Yharnam. They're not mindless beasts that only kill. They have an intellect. I'm hoping that maybe, they can learn and rise above their instincts. If I don't have to kill, I'd rather not. I've had enough of that kind of life." He tossed his Saw Cleaver to the side and a puff of sand scattered from its impact.
He slowly sat on the ground, his feet in front of him. Veil sighed and sat back-to-back with him. "I won't tell you how our world works differently from yours. If you want to hold onto a false hope, that's fine by me. Just don't let it destroy you."
"I'm well aware that I know nothing about this world. I'm sure that many have tried this and failed. I'm aware of that. I want to give it a chance before I am forced into another hunt."
"Just don't come crying to me when your heart gets broken all over again." She softly knocked her head against his. "Be honest with me, you were never meant for a life of killing? Forced into it yes, but it wasn't something you would have chosen."
"I don't really know." He grabbed a small handful of sand and let it escape through his fingers. "Whatever I might have been meant for is long lost in the sands of time."
"It was hard, wasn't it?" she asked as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
He remembered the long night. Waking up only to die. Clutching at any hope that he could, even if the embers were faint. To struggle to live, only to die again at the hands of beasts. The people he met, saved, or damned stayed in his mind's eye.
"It was so hard. So very hard." He leaned his head on hers and enjoyed the quiet companionship that she offered. For this moment he allowed himself to be weak. There was nothing he needed to slay. All that he needed for this moment was a small measure of peace. Sometimes that was all a man needed.
I spent entirely too much time researching the deserts of Egypt for this and probably still got stuff wrong. As what I knew of the Egyptian desert consisted of the Lawrance of Arabia movie. Which as the name suggests is close to Egypt but not quite as it's a few hexagonal squares to the right. However, the movie was filmed in Jordan and Morocco. Which is to say, I knew nothing. I don't think the movie Prince of Egypt counts toward this either. As far as I'm concerned, the deep desert is rolling sands. And the place where people gather has more rock and soil in the ground. So, I will say what some other people say when it comes to getting everything accurate, ahem... Screw it! I will however do my best as I hate inaccuracies.