Eight 2: The Way of the Hunter, A LitRPG Adventure

Kiertie was beautiful. There was no denying it. And she’d used her beauty like a knife—to stab into the heart of Woldec, Ghitha’s beloved brother.

“Is this the same woman?” I asked. “She looks different here than in Borba’s dream. Colder. More cruel.”

Since we were inside Ghitha’s dream, Yuki sat on my shoulder in the shape of a pink fairy. Their voice was musical, reminiscent of chimes. “He didn’t like Kiertie. That influenced his perception of her.”

“I know people see what they want,” I said, “but this really drives the point home. She looks almost like a stereotypical villain.”

In the waking world, a portion of the uekisheile had snuck into Ghitha’s house and infiltrated his dream. It was something that we were becoming uncomfortably good at. For Borba, we’d been merged, but with Ghitha, we were able to watch side-by-side as his memories played out before us.

Woldec’s wife had died two years ago of a fever. The last of the family’s elders followed a year later due to old age. It was only the two brothers left after that. And Akbash too, of course, but Woldec’s son was still at the cusp of full adulthood. He didn’t have power or influence yet.

No, the two brothers were finally free to chart their own path.

They’d always been close. Woldec had taught Ghitha the ways of the hunter even after the family elders had pushed the younger brother into the Merchant’s Lodge. None of them had recognized Ghitha’s talents. None of them appreciated Woldec’s insight and burgeoning leadership skills.

Nor had the Hunter’s Lodge. That damn Inneioleia refused to acknowledge Woldec’s greatness. The  lodge master was jealous and conspired to weaken him and the family just enough to keep them down but useful.

Ghitha had plans for the family’s return to greatness, and with that rediscovered influence he’d replace Koda as the village head and install Woldec as master of the Hunter’s Lodge’s. All those who disrespected them would be banished. The reeve and the world speaker would naturally understand the brothers’ superior judgment, and the village would prosper under their joint leadership. That had been the plan, until Kiertie had come along.

Her beauty beguiled Woldec. She displaced Ghitha within the family and brought her own plan: a map with the location of a cave full of eilesheile. It’d be a quicker path to wealth and power, but dangerous. Too dangerous. Kiertie came from a family of diviners, though, and she had convinced Woldec of her plan’s success—leaving Ghitha to bring it to fruition.

He’d always been the one to meticulously plan his brother’s hunts, and he spared no expense this time. Ghitha purchased new spears and axes, commissioned candlestones for the whole team, and arranged for the biggest expense of all: their insurance, Grunthen.

Grunthen was an ass. He strutted around the village and had the gall to see himself as Woldec’s equal. As if being Lightning-Touched was the same as being Earth-Touched.

Ghitha’s family had built the village’s pyramid and walls. Meanwhile, Grunthen’s family were nothing more than jumped-up rabble—moderately useful during the Long Dark, but that was all.

Speaking of rabble, Woldec would also need someone to watch the baggage and secure a path for retreat, just in case.

Borba wasn’t worth the hairs inside Woldec’s nose, but he was smitten with Kiertie and therefore cheap to hire. All Ghitha had to do was have her ask, and the hunter practically leapt to volunteer for the expedition. Watching Borba’s antics, it was the first time Ghitha had smiled in months. Not that it lasted. Every day of planning was another day closer to the expedition’s departure.

And when that day finally came, Ghitha couldn’t contain his anxiety. Woldec had gone on many dangerous hunts before, but the King of the Forest was king for a reason. The Hunter’s Lodge had tried to kill him three times in the past, and each time had been a miserable failure.

Ghitha’s attempts to reassure himself also failed. Grunthen and Borba weren’t reliable. No one except Woldec was reliable in Ghitha’s eyes.

Even-Tempered almost all his life, Ghitha didn’t know how to handle the discomfort: the shortness of breath, the nausea, and the stink of fear. Not for his own life, but for his brother’s. So many had died to the King of the Forest in the past. So many bore scars from those hunts. The whole day, Ghitha worried that even the powerful Woldec might die.

Finally, he couldn’t help himself. Under cover of approaching night, Ghitha left the village and entered the darkening woods. Every trick his brother had taught him, every secret pried from the Hunter’s Lodge, helped guide him onward, unseen and unheard.

Ghitha found the baggage abandoned, and panic flashed through him. For a moment, he believed his fears had been realized. But there were no signs of struggle or retreat. Borba was likely squatting behind a tree somewhere. Yes, that was surely it. Just in case, though, Ghitha searched the area.

Was that Grunthen’s voice?

Ghitha followed the sound to the nearby sugar maker’s compound, where the gate was open and Grunthen was saying something impossible, something inconceivable about… about… about…

The dream world shook, threatening to come apart at the seams.

“Ghitha’s tossing and turning in his bed,” Yuki said. “We’re trying to calm his qi, but it rages like a storm, even more than Borba’s had.”

“I’m not surprised. We’re watching one of the worst moments of his life.”

“There’s a thorn piercing through his memories,” Yuki said. “The dream won’t go past it.”

“Can we skip over?”

“Like moving a stuck record needle? We’ll try…”

Ghitha’s hands clenched, blood dripping from his palms, but there was no outlet for his rage. Grunthen was already dead. Borba had served a use after all. He’d stabbed the coward in the back before running off into the forest.

There was no one else left in the family now. Ghitha was alone, with no one to bring him hides and meat and bones to trade. He was a stump, a family member without the family’s talent, and what good was a stump without the rest of the body? None.

The family would finally fall, and it was Ghitha who’d be blamed.

So lost was he in his rage and despair that he almost didn’t see the sugar maker come out of his house. The old man moved slowly and carefully to check Grunthen’s body, but Borba wasn’t so useless that he didn’t know where to stab.

Well, Ghitha knew how to stab someone too. He followed when the sugar maker ran into the woods. No doubt the man had heard everything and planned to tell everyone in the village about Woldec’s shame—how he’d died miserably.

The knife went into the sugar maker’s back easier than Ghitha had expected. So smoothly, so calmly. The old man gasped, but Ghitha shoved him down and kept out of his sight. That was what a hunter would do. That was what Woldec had taught him to do.

Out in the forest, he knew the animals would take care of the body. Grunthen’s, though, was a problem. Ghitha’s stuttering mind started to work again. Woldec had always depended on him to plan the hunts, and this would be no different. Only this time, he’d be protecting his brother’s reputation.

When Ghitha arrived back at the compound, however, he found it on fire and Borba watching the flames. The hunter was turning out to be less and less useless.

Ghitha eased back into the night’s shadows and thought.

I dumped a bucket of water over my head. The sun wasn’t quite up, and darkness still covered the small plaza with the well. The water was shivering cold, but I needed to rinse away the residue left after experiencing Ghitha’s dreams.

His qi is unwell, Yuki said, bitter and unstable. Much of his attention is focused on keeping his thoughts in order.

I put down the bucket and grabbed my clothes. But he has a talent for being Even-Tempered.

His insides are very different from his outsides, Yuki said. The talent is all that is holding him together.

Mmm… he’s a broken man. It probably started early too. His family life growing up was tough.

Should we feel pity? Yuki asked.

Yes? No? Maybe? He didn’t have anyone to save him like Helen saved me. But then again, I can’t imagine that people like Inleio didn’t try to help.

He stuck to his family’s pride, Yuki said. Everything else was considered a weakness.

I suppose it doesn’t matter. He killed Bindeise, an innocent bystander.

We should tell him, Yuki said. Bindeise will want to know the identity of his murderer.

Yes, and he’ll probably want us to bring Ghitha to justice. Borba too, since they’re both involved. I shuddered from the cold, goosebumps rising all along my arms. But this isn’t the place to think about that. Let’s get somewhere warm first.

I ran to Bihei’s longhouse. People were starting to take care of their early-morning chores, so I Camouflaged in order to not stand out. That didn’t help me on my arrival though. When I dropped the spell, the widow and the kids complained about my sopping hair and damp clothes.

“Why are you always like this?” Bihei asked. “Are you a fish that you must come to the door wet every time?

The kids each grabbed a hand and pulled me in to sit by the fire, then wrapped me in blankets.

“Was there a monster in the well?” Aluali asked.

“Or did someone fall in and need rescue?” Billisha asked.

“No, no. Nothing like that,” I said. “It was just a nightmare, and I didn’t like the way I felt after. The cold water helped wash it away.”

“Oh, Eight. I’m sorry,” Bihei said, her face falling. “I made a joke, but you were actually hurting.”

“It was just a little dream,” I said. “You don’t have to feel bad.”

Bihei shook her head, as if to deny my words. Her eyes grew firm, and she seemed to come to a decision. She took a stiff step forward and wrapped her arms around me. “We all have nightmares about the things that happened to us. You’re not alone, Eight. You don’t have to face them by yourself. You have us too.”

Aluali and Billisha glommed on, and I was suddenly surrounded by a warm circle of arms and soft whispers.

“I’m here too. You can count on me.”

“We’ll always watch out for you, Zasha.”

“We get nightmares too.”

“But Zasha makes them better. Let us make them better for you too.”

I couldn’t tell who was saying what in the press of bodies, but it didn’t matter. Slowly, in the face of their warmth, the tension I’d been carrying eased.

For days, my thoughts had weighed on me. Being stuck in an eight-year-old body didn’t exactly lend itself to revealing the identities of Bindeise and Grunthen’s murderers—not to mention the source of my information. I couldn’t just blab to the village that my best friend was a hyper-intelligent lichen the shade of fuchsia, inhabiting me.

The kids were right, though. I was surrounded by people who cared about me. Not even counting Yuki and Ikfael, Billisha, Aluali, and even Bihei—there were Inleio and Mumu, Haol, Tegen, as well as all the other hunters who I’d become friends with.

There was a saying in Diaksh: a lodge is like another family. It was time to put that to the test.

The plan was to keep things simple. Telling the whole truth wouldn’t be safe for Yuki, but I’d come as close to it as I could. I was on good terms with Inleio and the hunters on my team, and I didn’t want to do anything stupid to jeopardize those relationships.

On the way to the lodge, I couldn’t help building out scenarios for the different ways the conversation could go. The best case was that the hunters believed me—not because I was incredibly convincing, but because they had their own investigation going. It was possible that my share of the story was the last bit of evidence they needed to confirm Borba and Ghitha’s guilt. Unlikely, but it was possible.

In the worst case, they somehow find out about Yuki, and I’d be forced to flee the village. Also unlikely. Also possible.

Although, I didn’t know for certain that they’d panic over Yuki. Ikfael had certainly been alarmed when she’d first met them, but that didn’t mean others would be.

Ollie/Eight must focus.

Thank you. I’m just nervous, is all.

We know, but it will be well. The lodge—

—needs me. And they know I’m reliable. When I found chliapp lion tracks near the village, I was proven right. I have a history of being clever. I just have to—

—focus, Yuki said.

Right. I gave myself a double slap on the cheeks, then jogged the rest of the way.

Inleio was in the process of unlocking the door when I arrived. “Well, if it isn’t our most diligent apprentice. I’m surprised you’re still in the village. Are you here to train?” He paused to examine my face. “No, that’s not it. What’s wrong, Eight?”

“There’s… something I need to talk to you about.”

“Any immediate danger?” Inleio asked, his eyes sharpening.

“No, but it’s serious.”

“Then come inside. I will get the tea started.” Inleio led the way, but instead of going to his desk, he opened the trap door leading down to the ritual room under the lodge. “There’ll be no privacy once the hunters start to arrive. We’ll talk below.”