Flamefist

The descent was much easier than the journey up, which wasn't very surprising.

They ran into a pack of mountain wolves this time. The snarling beasts were tearing apart some unfortunate prey, most likely a lone deer that had strayed too far from the Woods. The ripped monsters of fur and blood growled but reluctantly scattered when Will drew Moonsaw with an ominous chink.

As they passed the unfortunate creature, Jon noticed that it had six legs instead of four. The young man stared with boggling eyes.

"Not a pretty sight, eh? That's a Beve. Majestic creature. It's not usual for one to fall for mountain wolves, and not one to stray so far from the woods."

"And you still don't believe in magical creatures? For fuck's sake Will, this thing has six legs! Like a huge, fucked up ant!"

"And? It's a creature that lives exclusively in these woods. It's supposed to be magic because it has an extra pair of legs?"

"I really don't understand you. You're so blind sometimes. What... Who hurt you?"

Flamefist's face darkened. "People who thought they were more than they are."

"The hell is that supposed to mean? Are you going to keep speaking in riddles?"

"It means that I'm going to kill the Wizard and all of his demons. Every last one."

Jon didn't reply, and the party of two was silent for a while.

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They reached the bottom of Mount Wyvern that very evening and silently agreed to set up camp at the base of the mountain. The dark woods spread out in front of them, a few beams of moonlight sneaking past the evergreen canopy and stitching patches of white light on the dirt. Massive trees soared into the heavens as if trying to open conversation with twinkling stars. Somewhere in the woods, a Beve brayed loudly. It was all extremely atmospheric, so similar yet so different than the forest Will had lived near most of his life, the Woods of Y'Prook. He felt at home and completely at ease.

In a few minutes, Will lit a roaring fire. The pair settled down next to the flame, Will stretching out his limbs, Jon huddling up in a blanket with the Wizard's book in his hands. He seemed very interested in its contents. Will just sat there with burning curiosity and annoyance. What was so interesting about that book? Will could be telling a story of one of his epic feats, but the boy chose to read that dusty book instead.

After an hour or so of silence, Jon shut the book and put it back into his pouch.

"Will," he said, and spread out his blanket. "Do you mind taking first shift?"

"You seem already decided," Will muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Oh, nothing. Pleasant dreams, Jon."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

Jon turned his back to Will and the fire and appeared to go to sleep.

Flamefist shifted in place, savoring the cracks and pops as he stretched his legs. They were finally free of Mount Wyvern and the nameless villages. Finally free of Azrael. Will was finally free of his heavy conscience. Or, at least, on his way to freeing himself from his conscience. And that, he realized, was the most progress he had had in years.

He glanced towards Jon's sleeping body. The kid had a huge part in the improvement of his state. Jon had died... And he hadn't blamed Will for it. It made him feel ten times better. He owed the kid.

'Don't get too attached. You might lose him once more.'

"No," he muttered. "I won't let that happen. Not again."

Something caught his attention, a pale visage staring directly at him from behind a giant trunk. It belonged to an attractive female with dark hair, even through the considerable distance Will could see that much. She didn't say anything, didn't do anything.

He slowly stood up and dusted his pants. When he looked towards the face it was gone. For some reason, Will felt sure she was beckoning for him to draw closer.

Flamefist hesitated. It could very well be a trap, especially with the Wizard's demons coming after him and Jon. But he also had to know who that woman was and why she was watching them. She might be a random girl, but she also might have important snippets of information to share. Willingly or unwillingly.

Before he left the campsite, he drew in the dirt a large arrow, pointing at the woods, with Moonsaw. Hopefully if anything happened to him Jon would know what happened. Or at least have an idea.

With his sword still drawn, Will approached the edge of the Woods. No sound or soul showed itself to him. Even the nocturnal animals ominously fell quiet. It was feeling more and more wrong the closer Will approached, like the very forest was hostile to the newcomers, every trunk radiating hatred and distrust. Still he approached.

He reached the trunk of the tree that the face had disappeared behind. Will glanced back at the camp. The fire was still dancing, albeit a little weaker, and he could see a vague figure of Jon's sleeping body.

Turning back to the tree, Will peered around the left. Nothing in sight. He tried the right side, and caught sight of nothing either. On very high alert mode now, he made his way around the tree. He carefully circled around and scoured the dark woods before him.

The lady was no where to be found. Maybe he should turn back and head to the camp.

He paused, then raised his sword, purely in instinct. The stranger's blade clanged off Moonsaw, sending sparks flying into the evening breeze. Will found himself blocking a flurry of strikes much faster than he thought possible. A slash here, a jab there, a sneaky feint then and then. The blades clashed again and again, sparks flew again and again.

Then, the onslaught stopped, as sudden as it started. He finally had a chance to look at his assailant. It was the pale woman he had been following.

"It's true," she breathed. "Thou did kill him."

"Yes. Who are you?"

Will studied the female carefully, darting his eyes up and down her body with a seasoned warrior's scrutiny, without a hint of male lust... Well, almost without it. The woman was just gorgeous. Flowing black curls that cascaded onto her delicate exposed shoulders, deep dark brown eyes that made him feel like he could drown in them, and two arm length hunting knives in each hand. She had two streaks of black paint on each cheek, like the war paint tribes liked to smear before rushing to die in valiant battle. Her body was petite but of good figure.

"I am thy bane," she replied. "I will hunt thee and I will kill thee. Thou may have stolen Azrael's strength and speed through his essence, but I am the most skilled huntress in Urtha. Thou will not escape me."

"What the fuck are you even talking about?"

"How expectedly unintelligent. I will -"

"Will, what are you doing here?" Jon called from behind him. "I saw the..."

Flamefist glanced backwards at his companion, whose mouth was gaping at the huntress. Then his eyes widened even further and he pointed upwards. Will's eyes shot back towards the huntress, but she was gone. She simply vanished.

"Will - she just - she leapt backwards and... She backflipped onto a tree branch and she -"

Will then realized that Jon was blushing under the bright moonlight.

" - she... Winked at me? Who was that?"

"I believe that may be the next demon on our path. No rest for the wicked, I suppose."

"But she's so... Pretty. Demons aren't supposed to be attractive."

"Says who?"

"Says... I mean, Azrael was disgustingly hideous."

"And? You have an interesting book about plants and herbs. Haven't you read about the Semm flower? Or perhaps the Mowt bush? All beautiful plants, all extremely -"

" - extremely poisonous and dangerous," Jon finished absently. He was still staring the spot where the woman had supposedly leapt up and disappeared, almost like he expected her to come back. Will felt that same twinge of annoyance accompanied by its ally, burning jealousy.

'You can't stand not being the center of attention,' an inner voice taunted. 'It's all about you, isn't it? All about Will Fucking Flamefist Fucking Paragon. The dragon slayer."

'Shut up. You're wrong about me. You don't know me.'

'Will! I am you! You're arguing against yourself. I bet you feel silly now.'

He did. Mostly because he knew the voice was right. And he couldn't help it.

"Come on, let's get back to camp."

Jon didn't seem to hear him, so Will cleared his throat and waited. Still no response. The scrawny boy didn't even seem to register the remark.

"Jon. It's time to go."

"Mmmm," Jon finally replied, turning to Will. The blond's eyes were glazed over and distracted.

"Focus," Will snapped. "She's an enemy that won't hesitate to gut you and leave you to the wolves. Stop thinking with your dick and start using your fucking head."

Jon flinched as if Will had slapped him. Which, given the circumstances, Will was very tempted to do.

"You know Will, that's ironic coming from you. All you did since we started the journey was think with your dick and dying liver. It was always women and alcohol, alcohol and women. Don't lecture me."

It was Will's turn to feel hurt. After all he had been through carrying Jon's body up the mountain through nightmares and disease, all completely sober even though his mind begged for relief, here was the boy insulting Will's existence. It stung, mostly because it was half true.

"I haven't gotten drunk since the nameless villages," Will said quietly, his anger completely drained out. "You of all people should know that I've changed. Anyway, I already told you. I'm a terrible role model."

Jon softened up at that, actually looking a little guilty.

"Will, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -"

"Don't worry about it. Let's just head back to camp. I'll take watch again."

"But you're probably tired."

"If the huntress comes back, I don't think you'll be able to hold her off. We'll both be dead before you could squeak. She was fast."

"Then teach me how to fight!"

"It's not that simple. But yes, we will begin swordfighting lessons very soon. Most likely tomorrow evening. Now, go get some sleep."

"Alright. Fine."

The pair made their way back to their campsite. The fire was almost completely dead, and Will was barely able to keep it alive by tossing in a dry branch and stoking the fire. Jon curled up with his blanket again, and Will sat on alert.

Neither man slept that night.

A considerable distance away, but still where she could see the fire, the huntress watched with intense interest.

The hunt was on.

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It has been AGES. And I'm sorry for that.

Bounty Hard is back. I found the thread once more, and hopefully this time it won't slip from my fingers again. I'll try to keep my mind in Urtha so it's easier coming here to write.

Another tough chapter to write. I've been away for so long that it was a little hard to get back into the world I created. I read through the story multiple times to get reacquainted with all the little details.

I'm dedicated to this book. When I'm finished, I'll have a major editing phase where I'll properly edit the whole novel as a whole manuscript. I'll probably be in university by then, but I'll give this the time it deserves.

And you? How's your writing/reading going? Better than mine, I hope? :P

Thanks for tuning in for another chapter! It was wonderful seeing you again. And a special thanks to everyone who has voted and/or commented on the previous chapters. You are all very appreciated!

I'll be seeing you soon (hopefully). As always, have a wonderful day/evening.