Chapter 2 (Part 1): The Hunter's Dream

Elizabel raised a trembling hand toward the figure. To her, that hunter was the only barrier between her life and certain death.

— Do you always take this long to get up? — He slid down the ravine, took her fingers, and pulled her to her feet in a single motion.

Elizabel staggered, throwing her weight against him.

— Idiot... If you were here, why did you take so long? Did you decide to die with me? What will Amelié think?

— If you want to hear her scold me, make sure you get home alive first.

A handful of golden strands fell over Elizabel's eyes as she looked away. The embarrassment did not last long, swallowed by a cold dread. — Kariel is dead — she whispered. — It's over for us…

Harvey froze. He swallowed the news in silence, his throat locked for a second too long. When he looked at her again, his trembling lips betrayed the stiffness of his face. — How can you girls say so much nonsense? — His voice came out harder than he had intended. — He died fighting for you. Be strong and honor what he did.

He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and touching her face, with a careful, regretful gentleness that did not seem like his.

Her eyes shone a little brighter. Harvey had also been a student of the captain of the guard, so it was obvious that he had picked up his gentle way with words. — I'll try. — She intertwined her fingers with the young hunter's.

Before leaving, Harvey also picked up the sword the bandit had left behind and checked the name “Fox” carved into the guard. It was easy to guess where that group of thieves had come from.

He remembered a recent conversation he had overheard between his parents. The “animal” that had supposedly killed a member of the village was not wild, but human.

With his heart boiling with uncertainty, he reasoned: “Counting Kariel, the guard was made up of six knights. If I've already killed one of them, that leaves four. And they probably killed the maids in the other carriages, too.”

The blonde girl noticed Harvey's trembling lip, a sign that he was thinking hard. — What are you thinking so hard about?

— Nothing. Don't pay attention to me. Be polite and keep your eyes on our surroundings. These men are foreigners. Even with the advantage of being in a dense forest that we know, they are still hunters. Make no mistake, they'll find their way.

“What's more, considering how much my father has been talking about these men, I should have come better prepared.” He walked faster. He could already hear the sound of water, and at the same time the orange light of the enemies was visible from the opposite side.

— Harvey!

Elizabel's sudden voice warned him of a bandit's quick movement. The man burst out in front of them, cutting through the trees. Luckily, one step back was more than enough to keep a safe distance, and Harvey made sure to pull his ally close again.

There was no shouting at first. It all looked like an unusual encounter, and the enemy's arrogant nature gave him a sinister smile. Like his partner, he intended to enjoy the moment quietly.

If his companion had not warned him, Harvey would have been caught completely unaware. A fatal mistake like that was avoidable, but the boy was nowhere near understanding the seriousness of the moment. He had not even drawn his sword. — I see, thanks, Liz.

Once again, he made himself ready to kill, holding the sword in front of his body. But his attempt to carry out that deadly intent was interrupted by a question from his lone enemy:

— Tell me, who are you? — The brute of a man carried a broadsword and wore plate armor and, once again, no helmet. Just as Elizabel had noticed back in the carriage.

The ordinary question made the blonde girl look at her friend, searching for an explanation for the familiarity. Then he answered: — It doesn't matter.

— I ask because it's unusual for a young man like you to take pleasure in killing. You were quick to eliminate Fox, with no qualms about looting a man to take his sword.

The answer would be obvious, once again: he would say it was irrelevant. However, the realization that he had done everything so naturally until now reminded him of what his father used to teach him. And those were things he disliked remembering. His father's words, the ones he was about to say, were hard to repeat.

— You're right. I looted, killed and destroyed your friend, and I don't regret it. This is what I must do if I want to save my friend. It is a hunter's duty. — He finished by pulling his ally close.

Elizabel covered her mouth, both because of what Harvey had said and because he had suddenly hugged her. — Hey! Easy!

— That was the answer I expected. If you were a knight, as my colleagues were supposing, that would be a problem. But we are no different, and that's why I came here. I would like to talk with you. Since you are strong enough to kill one of my allies, take his place! Hand over the girl and give up fighting. — The man held out his hand.

— That is out of the question. Not only for her, but also for the people of Carbacerre. I know nothing of the Arquimedes' plans, but once we return to our lands, war is inevitable. By helping them, you will die. — He pointed the sword, steady.

The air cracked with the force of the wind cut by the enemy's blade. Harvey felt the impact of the landing in his knees, Elizabel's weight still clinging to him for one moment of panic. She let out a muffled cry as she was dragged, the shock of the sudden movement knocking the air out of her lungs.

There was no time to catch her breath.

The enemy was already upon them. A downward blow came like a pure iron axe. Harvey raised his sword horizontally, crossing his guard at the very limit of his reflexes.

The impact reverberated through Harvey's arms from his wrists to his shoulders. His opponent's teeth gleamed in a mocking smile just inches from his face. The pressure was crushing. The man did not even seem to be trying, while the metal of the enemy blade began to push Harvey's down, coming dangerously close to his neck.

“He's too fast, and the strength of that bastard...?” Harvey's thoughts burned like his muscles. “If I try to answer every attack, I'm dead.”

In a burst of survival instinct, Harvey deflected the blade to the side, letting the enemy's weight pass by and dodging a return thrust by millimeters. He placed himself between the attacker and the girl, his breathing already ragged.

— It's impressive. Your serious face still doesn't hide your fear perfectly, you know? — Bear went on. He tried a rising diagonal cut, then a kick at waist height that Harvey barely dodged, and another thrust that tore the boy's tunic.

The rhythm was unsustainable. Harvey was only reacting, his blade trembling against the successive impacts.

Behind him, Elizabel realized it. She saw Harvey's boots falter in the dust and heard the dry sound of his breath failing with each desperate block. She was not a warrior, but she understood the weight of the silence demanded by steel: as long as she was clinging to his body, or within reach of his arms, she would be a burden, an anchor dragging him to the grave.

The pain of still being a burden was too great. Kariel had also died trying to protect her. She could not let that happen again, even wounded.

— Please don't die! — She quickly pulled herself away from the boy, leaving him free to dodge a blow that would have been fatal. She fell onto a bush. All she could do was pray that they could leave that place together.

Harvey felt immediate relief as she moved away. Now he did not have to protect two bodies at once.

He tightened his grip on the sword hilt with both hands, wiped the sweat from his eyes, and faced the enemy advancing once more.

— Now! — He charged too, dodging sideways from another vertical cut. Without his ally, he ran much more freely.

Desperate, Bear tried a raw thrust, his whole weight thrown forward. Harvey saw the excess, ducked, and advanced close to the ground, slicing the brute's belly with a clean cut.

The opportunist fell with one knee on the ground as his blood painted the greenish grass.

— Wolf's Step?! So that means... the Black Dragon of the south had a so...

The man could not finish the sentence. The pain of the cut in his belly turned the words into a scarlet choke. He pressed the wound with his free hand, trying to stop the bleeding that was already soaking his tunic, while his wide eyes stared at Harvey with a mixture of hatred and suppressed terror.

Harvey did not answer. He held the low stance of the Wolf's Step, the blade tilted to one side. His breathing still came in hot gasps, but his gaze was cold. The shadow of the name just spoken seemed to weigh on him more than the sword itself.

— You talk too much for someone bleeding in the dirt — said Harvey, his voice firm, though his knuckles were white from gripping the weapon.

Bear snarled, his wounded pride weighing more than the tear in his flesh. Even kneeling, he used the sword as support and rose in a desperate lurch, for a last blind blow driven by pure spite…

Harvey met it with his blade and struck back, with trembling hands. It was not enough. The second blow came out of obligation. When the body fell, Harvey stayed looking at his own sword, unable to lower it.

Elizabel covered her face.

Harvey took her by the wrist and lifted her up.

— The sound of the fight has called the other enemies. Climb onto my back, we'll get there much faster.

The blonde girl nodded, still puzzled. “Why doesn't he like to admit that he's a hunter? Could Harvey know these men?” In the end she sighed and gripped him tightly with her legs.

They were at the edge of the shallow waterfall, where the spotted horse Nuitê was already waiting for them.