Night came rather quickly in the Ancient Forest it seemed.
With the towering treeline, the sun didn't take much coaxing to sink beneath the emerald sea. The last straws of light grasped frantically at the sky, while the green forest below slowly gave way to black. Shadows crept and twisted between the branches, gnawing and biting at the edges of the world in anticipation for the suns demise.
Hirio spied the clouds that were rolling in from the north, dark and foreboding. Good, there will be no moon tonight. He shifted in his position ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes on 'Leopold's' hovel.
Built into the side of a rock face and covered with foliage, the untrained eye would scarce be able to make out the door. And from the air, utterly impossible. Must be how he avoids the Wyverns. Behind the hut what appeared to be a series of steps wound upwards to the top of the rock face. I bet he can see the whole bloody forest from up there.
When Hirio had seen that, he assumed it likely that Bron knew someone was coming, and if he knew that someone was Hirio, it would make this considerably more difficult. Best case scenario he was inside, or nearby, preparing himself for a fight. Worse, he had fled, and Hirio would have to track him down all over again.
The thought made the hunters blood boil. All those nights, travelling, tracking, planning, fantasising. What he would do, what he would say, would he even say anything? He certainly hated the man enough to butcher him on the spot.
The last vestiges of light guttered out as Hirio salivated with anticipation. His heart was thrashing in his chest like a chained animal, every tiny noise was a thunderstorm in his ears. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon. It's time.
The hunter rose from his belly to a crouched position and swiftly made his way across the clearing to the door, wasting little time as he was dangerously exposed. In one vicious kick the wooden door was off its hinges and Hirio barrelled into the house.
A few wisps of smoke curled upwards from a fireplace, and the room still stank of cooking. Hirio sniffed, Potions. Carefully, Hirio began scanning the room for traps or snares. Several chairs, well-worn were arranged around a simple wooden table, in the centre a metal stand held a broken horn.
Hirio took the horn from its stand and held it in his hand, feeling the smooth, polished ivory run over his palms. Kept in good condition. Hirio was unsure if he still had his, he had largely tried to forget that period of his life, clearly Bron hadn't. But why? Why keep this?
Was it a sense of pride? Hirio supposed it was after they killed that Diablos their careers really took off, ultimately coming to a fateful end up the volcano, but before that… We were legends.
For Bron, that's all it had really been about. The legend of the three hunters who could not be bested. A dream he entered the Wycademy with, and Hirio as well. But while Bron clung to that fantasy for long after, Hirios hunt had largely boiled down to the horn he held now in his hand.
"Do you miss them still?" A ghost asked from the corner of the room.
Lira had been visiting him much more frequently these past few days. Always appearing the same, beautiful, strong, and dead. The wound between her ribs bled endlessly, staining her armour in rivers of crimson. Lira cocked her head as she waited for an answer.
"I... I don't think about them much anymore." Hirio confessed. Lira pouted. "I suppose not, swords don't do much thinking do they?" She stood and approached him. "I remember, I remember standing next to you at your families shroud. And when you lifted the cover, I remember the mangled bodies of your mother and father."
Lira shuddered, and then her expression softened. "You know what hurt me more though?" She whispered tenderly. "Your face when you saw them too."
Hirio felt something tug at his memory. an unwelcome nudge, from some part of himself long dead.
Tears, endless tears. The young hunter cried and cried until his sockets ached. Lira was there on his arm, and Brons hand on his shoulder. "We will find the monster that did this, brother. I promise." But when Hirio turned to his left, Brons mouth was dripping venom, and his eyes danced with hunger. He turned to his right, and Lira was on the floor, clutching her guts and coughing her life up in agony.
Hirio grabbed Liras hand just before it could touch him. "And we did find it, remember?" She took the horn in his hand. "A trio of hunters greener than grass, bringing down a full grown Diablos. We made quite the tale didn't we?"
"I couldn't care less what people thought of it." Hirio snarled.
"No, of course not. But it was nice, to be appreciated." Lira smiled, and Hirio fought back the urge to reach out and touch the apparition's cheek. "Bron certainly liked it, oh yes. He liked it very much."
Hirio gritted his teeth, his purpose filling him with malice once again. "I didn't come here to talk to ghosts." The hunter pulled away from Lira and began making his way out the back of the house, to the stairway leading up the rock face.
"Perhaps I'll see you soon then." Lira called after him. "After all, you couldn't beat him before, could you?" The words followed Hirio up the first few steps of the cliff, but then his anger consumed them, and soon all he could think about was the bastard that had destroyed his life. A rabid beast that clawed at the centre of his being, devouring any other thoughts that intruded the hunter's mind.
"Is that all you are now, just a sword?" Hirio scowled and pushed away all traces of that conversation, focusing solely on the task set before him. The bastard better be up here, Hirio thought. The hunter quickened his pace, eager to have an answer.
The wind began picking up, causing the clouds above to stir. Lumbering, shadowy giants that had started to slowly break apart. A few thin tears were appearing in the stormy canvas, and from behind them, precious shafts of moonlight filtered down onto the gloomy jungle.
Aware he was about to lose the advantage of darkness, Hirio hurriedly finished his ascent up the cliff. By the time he reached the top, the clouds had broken completely, and the shining face of the moon could gaze freely on the world below.
Hirio found himself standing in a flat, open clearing. The pale light from above cast the world in black and white, rendering the arrangement of gravestones at the far end of the glade crystal clear. A faint wind was chilling the forest, murmuring incessantly through the grass like a choir of spectres, and then whistling away into the shadowy passages between the boughs. Before one of the gravestones, a figure was kneeling, wrapped in a thick cloak that did not sway in the wind. He remained perfectly static in his position, acting as though he was unaware of Hirio standing behind him. The hunter knew he was not.
He gripped his sword, and began approaching the man, manoeuvring slightly to the left to try and see if he was armed.
"No words for an old friend?" Bron asked. Hirio continued circling towards him cautiously. "You mean to simply cut me down from behind, no questions asked? No final conversation, no moment of reflection or even fit of rage?"
Hirio growled. "I'll say it all afterwards, as you're dying at my feet."
Bron smirked. "How did you survive the fall, I wonder? Such a long way down, you were already wounded." He paused. "I always respected that; did you know? You never where easy to put down."
"You shouldn't have underestimated me." Hirio told him, edging ever closer.
"Lira-"
"Don't say her name." Hirio cut him off. "Not you, not ever."
"Our partner" Bron conceded. "could see it. The fight hadn't gone out of you yet. You remember it surely? We were coming back down the volcano, the Fatalis defeated. You were burned to a crisp after that fight, we had to carry you on a stretcher."
Brons voice grew wistful. "We argued long after you had fallen asleep, me and her. The volcano was set to erupt, and you had one foot in the grave. But she would not leave you." Bron huffed. "I'll never understand how she fell for you so utterly. Truly lovesick in every sense of the word. I believe she would have rather perished in flames then live knowing she had left you behind." Hirio faltered a moment, as though he had been struck, though he quickly recovered and resumed his advance. "I, however, had no such ambition. Surely you can understand that?"
Hirio gritted his teeth. "If all you wanted was to save your own life." The hunter snarled. "Then why did you murder her?"
Bron sighed, and then remained silent for a long time. For a moment Hirio thought he wasn't going to answer. Then finally, he spoke. "I wasn't just trying to save my own life." He said.
Hirio paused again as he tried to grasp the situation. He looked around, at the graveyard they stood in. He cast his mind back to grasp at fragments of conversations they had long ago, about the future, about the past. Slowly, the answer fell into place.
"You wanted the reward for the Fatalis, to bring your family to the New World." Hirio was met by silence and knew he had struck truth.
"My parents were wanted Hirio." Bron spat. "Poachers, the both of them. If the Guild Knights had caught them, it would have meant the Dundorma Walls, or worse. With the money from the contract, I could smuggle them across the sea." Bron shook his head. "In truth, half would have been enough, but she refused to abandon you. If I had done so, and she survived to tell of it..."
"You would have been tried by the Guild" Hirio finished.
Bron nodded. "Tell me, if you were given the chance to save your parents lives, would you have done it? Even if it meant the death of me and Lira-"
"Don't say her name." Hirio warned him again.
Bron growled, a deep guttural sound that was almost inhuman. "Do you think it was easy? Do you think it doesn't haunt me? After they-" Bron gestured to the gravestones. "-passed on. I have been alone out here, with nothing but my memories to keep me company, you cannot imagine how it feels-"
"I know exactly how it feels bastard!" Hirio screamed. "After you betrayed us, what did I have left? Nothing! The love of my life was dead, my brother had tried to kill me, I had no family to return to. I had no dream with which I could sail into the sunset and start over!"
"My dream is gone, Hirio!" Bron roared. "There it lies, buried in this cursed soil, in the land that stole it from me!" Bron stood, reaching a frightening height. Hirio had always been taller, but now Bron seemed to stand a full head above him. How?
"I… I sacrificed her." Bron lamented. "Because I thought it was the best thing to do." He placed a hand on the nearest grave. "Was this my punishment?" Hirio continued circling to the left, trying to find the right angle to strike. "Is this no more than I deserve?" Bron smirked. "Out of all the creatures of this world, only humans will kill their own kind out of selfish desire." A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Perhaps you are right to hate us."
"What?" Hirio asked, bewildered.
"Not you." Bron said, turning. His cloak began to fall away, revealing flashes of crimson. And beneath the hood a vindictive glare settled itself upon Hirio. "You…you, you, you. All she ever talked about, all she ever wanted. Nothing I did would convince her otherwise." He hissed. "Imagine, imagine if she had listened to me and left you? Imagine if you had just died on that night? Oh, it would've pained her for sure, in time though she would have come to her senses. But instead…instead…"
The cloak fell away, and Bron finally showed himself to his former brother. "Instead you made me kill her."
From head to toe, Bron had sealed his fate. Clad in a suit of armour long outlawed by the Guild. Ruby plates wrought from a still living being ensnared the hunters frame, twisting across his body in seemingly random patterns. Sometimes a section seemed to shift, as though moving of its own accord. Through a thin slit in the helmet, saliva oozed from a row of sharpened teeth, boiling into steam as it hit the ground. Above Brons malformed jaw sat a pair of bloodshot, murderous eyes. Eyes fixed unmoving on Hirio.
Fatalis armour. Hirio panicked, the equipment forged from a Fatalis hide was incredibly powerful but came at a terrible cost. Visions, voices, and madness. The wearer would slowly be transformed into something unrecognisable as a human, as the still living body parts of the Elder Dragon used to craft the armour slowly re-animated. "Bron…" Hirio gasped. "What have you done?"
"My reasons to live died a long time ago, brother, all except one." The thing that was once Bron drew his weapon, a massive longsword taller than Hirio. "To kill the one who took her from me!"
Brons declaration was enough to shake Hirio from his shock. As memories of Lira's smile, her laugh, her strong hands and soft lips flooded his thoughts. The beast in Hirio's mind drank the torrent hungrily, rousing it into a maniacal frenzy. The hunter steeled himself to face Liras murderer, raising his sword, and settling into a guard position. "On that, brother-" Hirio told him mockingly. "We can agree."
Hirio struck fist, aiming low and putting his smaller stature to his advantage. Bron predicted it and brought his sword upwards to parry the blow. The impact of the two blades hurled Hirio backwards, and he only just found his feet in time before Bron was barrelling down on him. By the Star, he's strong!
Bron dove into a series of flourishes, spinning and twirling for Hirio's head and neck. The hunter managed to deflect them all, but the effort was exhausting, leaving his arms trembling. I cant keep taking on his blows like this, he's too strong. Hirio rolled aside from a savage downward strike and tried to gather his thoughts. With that long sword, he's got more reach, and his height means I'll have to come well within its range to strike at his head. A Fatalis's hide was tough enough on its own. When treated into armour, Hirio doubted he would be able to pierce it. Between the helmet slit, there's no other way.
While Hirio strategized, Bron was able to clear the distance between them frighteningly fast. Leaping the length of the glade and thrusting into the ground. Again, Hirio rolled, and responded with an aimed swing towards Brons head. With lighting speed, Bron brought his long sword up and met Hirios attack. Casting his strike aside and whirling to face him again. They exchanged a flurry of blows, with Hirio trying to redirect Brons blade as often as he could rather than outright block his strikes. He made two more attempts at Brons head in retaliation, but between his mad onslaught and terrifying reflexes, Hirio was simply too slow to hit his target. I need to hinder his movement somehow, create an opening.
Committing to his strategy, Hirio rolled towards his opponent as Bron slashed horizontally for the torso. Quickly finding his feet Hirio swung his great sword with all of his might straight into Bron's kneecap. He couldn't pierce through the armour, but the impact would still hurt. Bron came to his knees cutting wildly at Hirio as he did so, but Hirio was able to pirouette away from the attack by a hair's breadth. As he came back around to face Bron, he thrust his great sword straight into his face.
For a brief moment, Hirio thought the attack had been successful. The tip of the blade lodged itself inside the slit, but as Hirio tried to push it further in, it would not do so. Quickly, he tried to pull it out, but found he could not do that either.
Looking down the length of the blade, Hirio saw Bron had bitten the tip of his sword, catching it firmly between his teeth. His boiling saliva ran down the blade, slowly melting it away. Hirio gave a last ditch effort to pull the sword free and then was forced to let it go as Bron slashed at his stomach with his long sword.
Hirio was not fast enough.
There was a horrific crunching sound as the edge tore through Hirio's armour, and then a soft shearing noise followed by a trail of searing pain that blazed its way across Hirio's stomach, the hunter fell backwards, clutching his gut and screaming. He heard Bron spit his sword out of his mouth, and it fell to the ground just outside his field of vision, burnt and misshapen.
Hirio's sight began to darken, and soon the monster standing over him was all he could focus on. Bron raised his sword over his head, ready to deliver the deathblow. His eyes locked with Hirios, staring pitifully while the hunter glared in utter hatred. He mustered the strength to spit up at his opponent, and saw his bloody projectile splash across Bron's breastplate.
He sighed, and something in his eyes seemed to soften a fraction. "When you see her…tell her that I'm sorry."
Hirio's vision finally gave out as Bron sucked in his breath. The sound seemed to be accompanied by a strange whistling noise, followed by a roar of pain. Hirio wasn't sure if Bron's blow had landed or not as he felt his life slipping away, his last few thoughts before blacking out where of fire, screams in the night, and the sound of a longsword slipping between a woman's ribs.