The road beneath their feet was well-worn, its stones weathered down from years of use. It stretched out, ever so noticeably, and meandered through the middle of the town square. On either side, others watched the pair with silent curiosity.
They continued their slow walk forward, approaching the center of the town square. A broken fountain with a drained basin acted as the plaza, the crowd of onlookers circling it as the two strangers set down their packs and sat.
Several Keepers approached the duo, stepping out from the ring of people cautiously. One of them half-raised an arm in greeting.
"Word of your travels spreads quickly. Other settlements have contacted us regarding a pair of strangers appearing not unlike yourselves- the question is, why?"
The intent of the interrogation was obvious- the Keeper was probing to see if they were a threat. The smaller of the two, a bow draped across her back, turned to the other, a man with a cowl that shadowed a mawed helmet. After a moment, her partner looked at the Keepers and held both hands outward.
"We seek only to tell a story, Keeper."
Intrigued, the Keeper tilted their head. "And what story would that be, stranger?"
There was a moment's pause before the hooded man spoke again. "Many years ago … there were Guardians."
— Transcript of an odd occurrence in an EDZ settlement, one month ago
The Stag entered the chamber, noting the heads of the five council members as they turned to watch his approach.
"Stag," one greeted him, "thank you for coming."
"Of course," he replied, ever so courteous. "How may I serve?"
"Our eyes and ears have observed a startling trend across various settlements over the last eight months," another said softly. "It would appear that the Hunter has been setting the pieces for a game to come."
The Stag's interest was piqued immediately. "What has he been doing?"
"Thus far, nothing aside from relaying his story to those willing to listen," the councilor continued. "We've tracked their movements to somewhere near Vostok, and we believe they'll be trying to reach an audience at the Iron Temple-"
"'They'?" the Stag asked, noticing the odd usage.
"The Hunter seems to have taken on an apprentice," a fourth councilor stated, her voice low. The Stag's mind flashed back to the last time he had seen the Hunter, nearly a year and a half ago.
"The Exo," he snarled.
"Indeed," confirmed the last. "It would appear that she is always at his side during his travels."
"I warned you," he growled quietly. "I warned you that this would happen if you did not pay him due attention. With your blessing, I will leave at once to-"
"You are not here to hunt him down."
He paused, an unpleasant taste forming in his mouth. "No?"
"We convened in your absence," the first revealed. "We have made the decision to leave the Hunter be."
Several seconds of silence followed the declaration, the Stag contemplating the implications of what the councilors had decided. "You … wish to let him live?"
"As the Hunter's story spreads, so too do the questions of those he communes with," they explained. "Questions that may lead them to ponder the nature of our order. If we were to strike at the Hunter, we could spark a revolution-"
"And if you do not strike, you will guarantee it," the Stag spat. "Coexistence is impossible- the Light will always rise again if you allow it the chance. Do not give it one."
"You would have us make a martyr of this Hunter?" one of them inquired incredulously. "Our power rests in the subtlety of our influence, not in us assassinating the one who would paint us as a villain."
"You cannot comprehend the threat that even one spark of Light can mean for our order- or more importantly, humanity's survival," he pleaded. "You weren't there when the Guardians still lived- you've only inherited your power from the work your ancestors and I carried out. I'm urging you, one last time- take action."
There was a pause as he waited for their response. The one across from him glanced to the left, and then to the right at their associates, seemingly coming to an agreement. "While we are forever grateful for the steps you've taken to ensure our dominance, we must insist on our decision- our minds have not changed. You will abandon your pursuit of this Hunter at once."
The Stag said nothing, his expression unreadable behind the dead eyes of the skull that adorned his mask. Finally, he bowed deeply.
"Likewise, I am grateful for the faith you've shown me and years of our cooperative labor you've given so that humanity may one day enjoy its fruits." He tilted his head slightly. "But I can see now that our covenant is at an end."
He turned around and walked out of the chambers. "They have outlived their usefulness. Dispose of them."
He couldn't see anything in the room behind him, but he could sense their confusion at his words. Then he heard the sound of sudden materialization, and the screams of terror from the council as they were swiftly cut down. One by one, their shrill cries were silenced, their voices never again to be heard.
It lasted all of a few seconds, and then the chamber was tranquil once more. He heard footsteps behind him, and faced the emissary of the Nine that approached, their gleaming robes flowing behind them. "Your path is now yours, Stag."
"Then I will finish what I started all those years ago." He gave a curt bow. "Wait for me beneath the Traveler. We will extinguish the light where it first glowed."
—X—
The wisps of ice and cool vapor that blew across the dunes of snow were rather pretty, dancing about in the air like acrobats in the wind. Clara watched them contentedly, entertained by their movements.
"You know, it's odd coming back here after all this time," she called to Mathias, the other Hunter several meters in front of her.
"I agree," he replied. "The last time I was here, I never expected to leave." He turned and gave a small chuckle in her direction. "But this stubborn Exo I met refused to let that happen."
"Runs in my blood," she said in fake nonchalance. "We Hunters are a hardheaded bunch, as it turns out."
"That, we are," he muttered. They continued trekking across the narrow bridge of rock before them, careful not to misstep and send themselves careening into a hundred-meter drop to the slopes below.
"I really do have to thank you," he said seriously. "Before I met you, I'd given up hope that there was anyone or anything left worth fighting for." Making it to the other side, he spun about and waited for her. "But you proved me wrong. You showed me that there's still hope for a better world."
"And that's what we're making," she affirmed. "A better world- one where the remnants of humanity aren't cowering from the Star."
"We'll get there," he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand to pull her forward, then helping to stabilize her on the new ground. They continued their march upward. "With each time we tell the story, more people step out of the shadows. More of them begin to hope. And someday … they'll help us reclaim what we lost."
Underneath his helmet, he smiled at the thought. "Who knows? Maybe Guardians will rise again." He clapped her on the back. "And it's all thanks to you."
"I haven't had anything to do with-"
"Oh, yes you have. You gave an old man something to live for." This time, she could feel his smile behind that helmet of his.
"You look awfully spry for an old man," she joked to her mentor.
"Looks can be deceiving," he shot right back, followed by a guffaw.
Clara beamed at him, doing her best to contain her happiness. When she'd first met Mathias, he'd been a broken man- one that had resigned himself to death to escape the constant pain of loneliness.
But over her time with him, she'd come to know him- the real him, not just Woods, the gruff and uncaring persona he'd become for so long. He had a sense of dry humor that rivaled hers, green eyes that sparkled with genuine joy where there had once been nothing but despair- he was far more than the shell that he'd become, and she'd helped him to break out of it.
No matter what came, she could at least say she would be content with having achieved nothing else but that.
He pointed up ahead. "The observatory is just over this ridge. Just on the other side of it is the Iron Temple-"
A sudden rumbling in the air caught both of their attention, and they froze to get a better sense of what it was.
Over the last year and a half, Clara had trained as a Hunter in an unforgiving world. Mathias had taught her to fight, to track, even how to craft weaponry- that was what had led to the bow on her back, a beautiful work of art she'd dubbed, Le Monarque. He'd once told her that she had the slightest of french accents, and so she'd chosen a fitting moniker.
He'd also trained her to hone her senses to a point where she could focus in on any one of them and relay exactly what was happening. Now, she heard the obvious noise- but she also felt the faint vibrations in the air, saw the disturbance of stagnant snow as it was shaken from its position by the encroaching rumble.
"It's a ship," she murmured, turning her eyes up to look for it against the gray sky. The snowfall was making it difficult to discern any particular movement-
"There!" she pointed out, drawing Mathias' attention to a faint outline of a dropship approaching. He peered keenly at where she indicated, seeing the outline- and then noticing its faint blue and yellow coloration as it grew closer.
"It's the Star," he growled, immediately drawing the Hawkmoon from his holster. Clara's bow was off her back and drawn in her hands in the span of a second, and the two Hunters stood back to back as the ship drew near, almost directly above them now.
Without warning, it moved off and disappeared into the sky once more.
"What was that about?" she asked quickly, her eyes darting every which way in front of her.
"I don't know," came his response, just as on edge as she was. "But it wouldn't have come here without a reason."
"Quite astute."
Clara let loose an arrow at the source of the voice. The Stag sidestepped the projectile, standing atop the small ridge in front of them. "Remarkable aim. A touch slower on my part, and you'd have hit me." He bowed his head to her. "A pleasure seeing you again."
"Wish I could say the same," she said angrily, her mouth set in a thin line. The Stag turned his attention to Mathias.
"And you … I do believe that our last conversation was left unfinished."
"You weren't saying anything I haven't heard before," Mathias remarked, staring unyieldingly at his nephew.
The Stag leaned forward. "I do apologize for that. What say we continue where we left off, then?"
Without waiting for a response, he launched into an attack. Leaping off the ledge of the rise in a somersault, he landed a few feet in front of Clara. She drew the string of her bow back and let an arrow fly. In spite of the proximity, he just managed to evade it and drew his golden hand-cannon, the one he'd inherited from his mother- the Last Word.
Placing his left hand over the gun to steady the recoil, he began to fan-fire the weapon at them. Rolling out of the way, Clara and Mathias came up with weapons ready to fire. The older Hunter fired his own hand-cannon, the round deflected almost casually by the Stag with a wave of void energy.
"We need not fight," the cult leader drawled. "The Nine would prefer I wrap this up cleanly-"
"I don't care what the Nine want," Mathias growled, his fury growing at the mention of his family's murderers. "They can go to hell, or wherever else they came from."
"Good," the Stag said with an excited laugh. "I was hoping to get my pound of flesh."
Unexpectedly, he strode forward uncaringly toward Mathias, the latter's gun still held out at him. Shockingly, he was able to move all the way forward and press himself against the barrel of the gun- with no reaction from the Hunter.
"I knew you didn't intend to land that shot," he taunted quietly, staring into the eyes of Mathias' helmet as his grip on the hawkmoon became shaky. "Even after all this time … you still can't stand the thought of killing me, can you? Can't stomach your guilt?"
Mathias gave no answer, but his silence was all the Stag needed to confirm his theory. He gave a throaty chuckle- before a flaring pain in his leg forced him to give a sharp cry. Looking down, he saw the fletching of an arrow sticking out the side of his calf.
"Good thing I have no such qualms," Clara said coolly, another arrow already nocked and aimed at his head. She stepped closer, ensuring that her next shot wouldn't miss as Mathias looked on, nonplussed by the turn of events.
The Stag, for his part, seemed unsurprised. "I knew you'd be the one to end me- I know he'd never have the guts for it." He leaned in towards her arrow, egging her on. "Go on- do it."
She felt a trill of excitement run through her. This had been too easy- and now, she had the chance to save humanity. One release of her fingers, and the leader of the Trinary Star would be gone-
"No!" Mathias cried, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her aim away. "Please, don't-"
It only took that one moment of weakness, that one shred of empathy that the Hunter still had for his nephew. Preying on the opportunity, the Stag kicked Mathias away, and tackled Clara to the ground.
Mathias scrambled back to his feet, unsure of what had just happened- only to see the Stag holding Clara in a choke-hold with one arm, the Last Word aimed at her head in the other.
"As much as I'd love to prolong this, I really can't afford the time," the Stag said breathlessly. "Now, I'll make it simple for you- come with me, or she dies."
"No-!" Clara tried to shout, but was silenced by the impact of him hitting her in the head with the butt of his gun.
Mathias stared wordlessly at them, then looked behind the pair as the familiar rumble they'd heard earlier returned. Slowly, the Trinary Star ship descended from the sky, turning around and opening its bay doors to reveal a small contingent of enforcers who leapt onto the snowy peak with their weapons leveled at him.
"Your days of running are over," the Stag growled. "How many others have you let die for you? How many loved ones have you lost? Are you really going to trade another life for your own again?"
Mathias stared at Clara, his expression a mystery. She couldn't help but think that this situation mirrored the one where they'd first met- the Stag threatening her life and offering the Hunter a choice. This time, however, the Seven Seraphs weren't here to save them-
"You win."
The Stag continued to hold Clara tightly, but his grip faltered for the briefest moment- almost as though he didn't believe he'd heard right. "What?"
His reaction aligned with her own- what did Mathias mean? What was he doing?
At his side, her mentor cast his gun to the ground. The Hawkmoon fell lightly into the snow, half-buried beneath the fluff.
"I won't fight you," the Hunter stated quietly, his voice hoarse. "I'll let you do whatever you want with me- just let her go."
"No!" she shrieked. "No, Matt, don't do this-!"
She received another blow to the head. After a few seconds went by and the Stag was certain that this wasn't a trick, he made a small nod towards one of the enforcers. "Detain him."
Stepping up to the Hunter, they placed magnetic cuffs around his hands. With a small electronic trill, the cuffs signaled that they were secure.
"Watch her," the Stag ordered, forcing Clara to the ground and walking over. Before she could even think about rising from her position, three of the enforcers had their sights trained on her.
The Stag stood before the Hunter, a noticeable amount of glee in his stance. Reaching up, he pulled back Mathias' hood, and tore his helmet off, allowing everyone to see the face behind the mask.
"I remember when I looked up to you- when everyone looked up to you," he said quietly, his tone unexpectedly somber. "They called you 'legend'. Now look at you- no more than a cowardly man, a withered husk of what you once were."
The hand in which he held the helmet began to glow purple with void energy. "Today, the last Hunter dies."
He clenched his hand tightly, crushing the metal of the helmet with ease and reducing it to scrap. Satisfied, he dropped it into the snow alongside the Hawkmoon.
Clara slowly stood up, and looked at Mathias with a lost expression, her despair too great for words. "Why? Why would you do that?"
"I'm sorry," he said, sounding not unlike he had when she'd first met him. "I won't lose anyone else-"
He was cut off mid-sentence by the sound of a hand-cannon. She felt a great pain in her chest, then another, and another- the Stag emptied the entire chamber of the Last Word into her torso, its bullets tearing through her armor and piercing her body, wreaking damage across her internal systems.
Time seemed to slow down, and the pain seemed to dissipate- everything felt dull now, numb- like it wasn't really happening to her, but to someone else. She began to fall backwards off the cliff, nothing behind her but a drop into open air.
As blackness began to take her, the last image in her mind was that of Mathias' horrified expression as he watched the last person he loved be killed.
A/N: It's been a few months, yada yada, you know the drill. Will update when I can- leave a few reviews and it might encourage me to speed up the process.