Kyle smirked, but his confidence was fleeting as the lead hare lunged with blinding speed. His dagger shot up instinctively, deflecting the claws aiming for his throat. The impact sent a jolt through his arm, and the beast flitted back, its crimson eyes locked on him with unsettling focus.
Before he could recover, the other two hares darted in, their buzzing wings creating a cacophony that rattled his nerves. Kyle twisted, narrowly dodging one of the monster’s talons, only to feel a sharp pain as another grazed his shoulder. He stumbled, biting back a curse as warm blood trickled down his arm.
Kyle took a deep breath, a flicker of something primal lighting his tired eyes for the briefest moment before vanishing. The dagger in his hand began to hum faintly, its dull sheen replaced by a faint, eerie glow. A slick, green substance oozed along the blade’s edge, shimmering with a sinister gleam. He had activated one of the five runes etched into the dagger, a gift from his mother for protection in the wilderness.The dagger play he had learnt from one of his Visions was finally coming in handy today, after gathering dust in the back of his mind for far too long.
The lead hare swooped again, its claws aimed for his exposed flank. Kyle pivoted awkwardly, slashing upward. The blade caught the creature’s side, leaving a streak of poison that quickly began to fester. The hare let out a distorted screech, its flight faltering but not stopping.
"Stay calm," Kyle muttered, eyes darting between the remaining hares circling him.
One came at him from the side. Kyle dodged, but too late; claws raked his ribs, tearing his tunic and leaving shallow gashes. He hissed in pain, swinging wildly as the creature passed, barely nicking its wing.
The injured lead hare lunged again, this time more sluggishly. Kyle capitalized, diving low and driving his dagger into its belly. The poison worked fast, and the creature collapsed with a strangled cry, its wings twitching weakly before going still.
He wasn’t given a moment to breathe. The remaining hares attacked in unison. One barreled into his chest, knocking him flat, while the other dived at his legs. Kyle lashed out wildly, his dagger slicing through the air as he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a killing blow.
Kyle’s back hit a tree, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He wiped blood from his brow, gripping the dagger so tightly his knuckles whitened.
"Come on, then," he growled, forcing himself upright.
The next hare swooped low. This time, Kyle was ready. He sidestepped sharply, plunging the dagger into its wing joint. The beast shrieked, crashing into the underbrush, its movements erratic as the poison took hold.
The final hare hesitated, its buzzing now more frantic. Kyle’s vision blurred from exhaustion, but he held his ground, dagger raised. The creature charged with reckless speed, aiming straight for his throat.
Kyle dropped to his knees at the last moment, thrusting the dagger upward with all his strength. The blade found its mark, sinking deep into the hare’s chest. It convulsed violently, its wings flapping weakly before it slumped over him, lifeless.
Panting heavily, Kyle shoved the corpse off and collapsed onto his back. The world spun as he stared up at the treetops, his body aching from the ordeal.
He closed his eyes, letting the adrenaline subside. "Too close," he muttered, his voice barely audible over his labored breathing. "Way too close."
‘What were they doing in this part of the woods?’ He thought.
***
The village came into view as Kyle trudged forward, his steps heavy and uneven. His body ached from the fight, each movement sending sharp reminders of the gashes and bruises he'd earned. The late afternoon sun bathed the small cluster of homes in golden light, making the village look almost serene, a stark contrast to the chaos he'd just survived.
As he neared the outskirts, Old Man Barns was perched on a wooden chair outside his modest cottage. Barns was a recent addition to the village, his weathered face and sharp tongue making him both a source of irritation and amusement for the locals.
"Darkstone!" the old man called out, squinting at Kyle. "You trip over your own feet again, or was it a tree this time?"
Kyle smirked weakly, holding up the three-limbed corpse of a Flying Hare. "Something like that."
Barns’ eyes widened slightly. "Well, I’ll be damned. You killed that thing? Tough lad, aren’t ya?" His gaze shifted to the hare. "How much for one of those critters? Been a while since I had good meat."
Kyle hesitated, then shrugged. "Take your pick."
Barns handed over a few coins with a toothy grin, quickly grabbing the hare. "You’re all right, Darkstone. Don’t keel over before I get more of these from you."
Kyle gave a tired nod and resumed his walk. He passed through the heart of the village, his pace slowing further. Every muscle in his body begged him to rest, but he pressed on.
Near Sebi’s home, he spotted Alex and Sebi talking. Their laughter carried softly in the air, a stark contrast to the weariness Kyle felt. His brows knit tightly as he approached them, his face a mask of restrained irritation.
Without a word, he thrust one of the remaining hares into Alex’s chest. "Her dad loves rabbit meat," Kyle muttered gruffly.
Alex blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, Kyle was already walking away.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
He finally reached his own home, the sight of the familiar wooden door a small comfort.
Kyle pushed open the creaky door to his home, stepping into the dimly lit interior. Inside, the air was warm and still, tinged with something faintly sour under the usual herbal tang of his mother’s salves. He wrinkled his nose. It smelt different.
His eyes immediately landed on his mother, lying sprawled on the ground, asleep. She was still clad in that short dress she had worn earlier, the fabric hiked slightly higher than before. One of the thin shoulder straps had slipped down her arm, resting just above her elbow.
A wave of frustration hit him, his jaw tightening as he dropped the bag and the hare onto the table.
'She’s just tired,' he told himself. Still, unease settled in his chest. She never let herself appear vulnerable, not even at home.
The short dress was uncommon here in the countryside, where modesty was a cultural norm. Nobility or city women might dress like this, but not in their quiet village. It felt out of place, and yet it suited her.
Kyle's eyes dropped to her thighs, where a faint scar stood out against her skin. That scar stirred an odd curiosity in him, an urge to know its story. Where had it come from? Why did it feel like a part of her he didn’t fully understand?
She usually sent Kyle away whenever she treated someone suffering from Eclipsing, making it rare for him to catch even a fleeting glimpse of her in such attire. This was the first time he had the chance to take his time and truly notice. She wore this to excite the suffering men, and then she used her abilities to calm them and their Eclipsing down.
He sighed, pushing away the thoughts before they could deepen. 'What am I even thinking?'
Kyle approached her, crouching by her side. Gently, he tapped her shoulder. “Mom,” he said softly. She stirred but didn’t wake, so he shook her lightly. “Mom, wake up.”
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked at him sleepily. "Kyle? You’re back already?"
“Yeah,” he said, straightening up. “Get off the floor. You’ll catch a cold.”
She sat up slowly, brushing her hair back, her face wearing a faint smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Just then, as if she realised something, she quickly got up and rushed towards the bathroom.
Kyle turned away, busying himself with unpacking the herbs, hoping to silence the strange thoughts that had momentarily filled his mind.
As she came back, Kyle's mother’s gaze immediately fell on the dried blood staining his clothes. Her eyes widened in alarm. "What happened?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
Kyle calmly picked up the hare he’d brought home and held it out. "This happened," he replied nonchalantly.
His mother gasped, taking a step closer to inspect both the hare and her son. "Why did you wander deeper into the forest than I told you to?" she demanded, her tone a mix of concern and reprimand.
"I didn’t," Kyle said, shaking his head. "I came across these hares while picking herbs. For some reason, they were in the outer part of the forest."
"Hares?" she repeated, incredulous.
"Yeah, three of them," he confirmed, setting the hare down on the table. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out a small pouch and emptied its contents onto his palm, several coins gleamed in the light.
"I sold them," he said, smirking as he pocketed the coins again.
His mother’s worry gave way to a sigh of exasperation, her hands resting on her hips. "You’re impossible sometimes, Kyle," she muttered, though a faint smile tugged at her lips.
His mother guided Kyle to sit on the chair, her expression still tinged with concern. Without a word, she knelt beside him and began undoing the clasps of his tunic, her movements swift and practiced. Kyle winced as the fabric peeled away, revealing scrapes and bruises from the earlier fight.
"You should’ve told me right away," she scolded softly, her hands glowing faintly as she prepared to heal him. A warm, soothing sensation began to spread over his wounds, easing the pain.
Kyle, however, wasn’t entirely focused on the healing. He raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but pointed. "We are done with my problem. Now, why were you sleeping on the ground?"
His mother froze for a moment, her glowing hands hovering above a cut on his shoulder. She looked up at him, her expression caught between surprise and hesitation, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face.
"That’s… none of your concern," she said after a beat, her voice deliberately calm as she resumed her work.
Kyle frowned, studying her face. "You don’t normally just pass out like that," he pressed. "Something’s bothering you. Is it the scarred guy from earlier?"
Her eyes briefly met his, a flicker of excitement and something else—guilt?—flashing within them. "Kyle, drop it," she said firmly, focusing on his injuries again.
But her reaction only fueled Kyle's curiosity, even as he bit his tongue, sensing that pushing further might lead to an argument he didn’t want to have right now.***In the grand hall, dimly lit by the glow of a chandelier overhead, the atmosphere was tense. At the head of the long, polished table, a man with striking blonde hair and piercing blue eyes sat with an air of authority. His fingers lightly drummed against the dark wood as he listened, his gaze steady and cold.
“Void Shards, the upcoming war, and the people from that place. There is so much on our plates,” he said.
The other people in the room kept quiet.
The blonde man sighed as he looked at the Ace of Clubs. “What about the thing you were handling?”
On the opposite side, four individuals sat. One of them, a man with a beard, leaned slightly forward, his voice tight with apprehension.
"The Spirit we were fighting... escaped just before we could capture it," he began, his words deliberate but strained, as though rehearsed. "It slipped past us in the final moments." He paused, glancing nervously at the blonde man.
The blonde man's sharp gaze pinned him in place. "Where is the Spirit now?" he asked, his tone straightforward.
The bearded man swallowed hard. "Sir, I believe it’s around Fairburn County. That’s where we lost the trail."
A tense silence followed. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but the blonde man didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in thought. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke.
"We’ll get to it soon," the bearded man added hastily, as if trying to salvage his position.
The blonde man’s gaze shifted, thoughtful yet cutting. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice calm but resolute. "No," he said, almost to himself at first. Then, louder, he added, "I will go there myself."
The room froze. The four people exchanged looks of shock and confusion, but no one dared to interrupt.
"I’ve already been wanting to deal with some business in Fairburn County," the blonde man continued, his tone leaving no room for debate. "This will be an opportunity to tie up multiple loose ends."
Without another word, he rose from his seat, the scrape of his chair against the floor echoing through the hall. His commanding presence left no question—his decision was final. The others sat in silence as he strode toward the door, his cape brushing the floor behind him like a shadow.