The Legend of the Hunter
Lathlin

Lathlin had been aware of the dreiche pack dogging his heels for some time before they finally showed themselves. He had made camp in a pleasant clearing in the forest near a fast flowing stream. A massive oak tree provided cover against the elements, while its extension of gnarled roots offered hollows that would be comfortable as beds once they were filled with soft leaves, straw, twigs and other bedding materials. He had just started a small fire to boil some water for tea when the creatures appeared from the brush, silently but menacingly circling him, their red eyes glaring malevolently at him.

The Elfling had straightened up very slowly and purposefully before he fearlessly faced the snarling pack. The largest dreiche, obviously the leader, had suddenly stopped and peered back from where they had approached. He had sniffed noisily a few times, simultaneously hissing and rumbling deep in his throat before he had bounced off. The other two had promptly followed him.

Lathlin had been bewildered by their inexplicable behaviour, but when he had come upon the gruesome scene of the battle, he knew why they had abandoned him so abruptly. They had detected a more threatening target, the huge man lying comatose or dead in a slowly spreading pool of blood.

Lathlin hastened to examine the man, relieved to find a strong pulse. It still required all of his medical expertise to prevent the stranger from slipping the bonds of this life. It was even more of a struggle for the slim Elf to drag the injured man hastily but carefully back to his camp. The man weighed more than a horse, but fortunately the camp was mere metres from where the fight had occurred. It was certainly also blessed chance that there was a nearby stream, for Lathlin could cleanse the man’s wounds thoroughly and thus prevent any risk of infection.

The stranger regained consciousness after an hour, just as Lathlin finished cooking his simple meal of vegetable stew. The Elf smiled warmly when he realised it must have been the aroma of the food that had roused the stranger.

Belac felt disorientated at first, but only for a few minutes. He had long ago conditioned his body and mind to become alert and instantly focused after any period of unconsciousness. Being a Hunter was a fair guarantee that he would get knocked senseless occasionally. He glanced around to orient himself before he targeted the Elfling sitting opposite him. He had found his prey. Or to be more exact: his prey had found him.

The youth was extremely handsome with long, blonde hair falling to his lean but muscled shoulders. He was quite fair, as all Elves were, and when he spoke, his voice was as pleasant as a beautiful melody.

“Here, have some stew,” the Elfling said kindly as he held out a steaming wooden bowl filled generously with the most delicious-smelling food. The irony that his prey had probably saved his life was not lost on Belac. “I am sorry, but it has no meat in it. I do not consume the flesh of any creatures,” the youth explained in a soft but confident voice.

As Belac reluctantly but hungrily reached for the bowl, he stared straight into the Elfling’s eyes. He was jolted by what he saw: the young Elf was blind, his eyes covered by gossamer cataracts. Belac nearly let go of the bowl, but managed to hold on to it and his dignity. He was a Hunter, and Hunters were surprised by nothing at all.

“You’re blind,” he uttered bluntly and inanely. “Fool!” he berated himself for stating the obvious.

“Only physically,” Lathlin corrected him, confusing the Hunter even more. He hurried to dispel the confusion though. “I have inner vision; I perceive shapes surrounded by various colours and patterns. In a sense, it is much better than normal vision,” he ended and shrugged, as if in apology.

Then another thought struck Belac. “I seem to be hit a lot today,” he said to himself in jest.

“Excuse me?” Lathlin asked.

“Forget it. I just realised I don’t feel any pain from my wounds even though I was sliced up pretty badly by that cursed dreiche. And I still have these injuries to prove it,” Belac said and gestured to his various cuts and bruises.

“Oh,” Lathlin said in some embarrassment, “that was me. I … um … I took away the pain to help your body speed up the healing process, but for the most part your wounds need to heal naturally,” he admitted in obvious discomfort.

Many of the other species hated magic for some arcane reason, thus Lathlin was unsure how the stranger would react to having had magic used on him. Belac surprised both of them when he said, “Thanks. Much appreciated.” He pointedly refused to ask the Elfling how he had taken away the pain.

“I’m Belac, by the way,” he added as an introduction. He had already surmised that the Elfling was the one he had been commissioned to track and capture, but he revealed nothing yet of this.

“Lathlin, at your service,” the Elfling said formally. “I know why you are here, Sir Hunter,” he added, making Belac straighten up from his reclining position. He waited tensely to hear what the youth would reveal. What he heard was not at all what he had expected.

“Ragar the Brute sent you, did he not? He probably told you that I am his property, that he had bought me ‘legally’ on the slave market. He lied.”

“What makes you think I was sent by anyone?” Belac responded.

“Why else would you willingly enter the Forsaken Forest?” Lathlin fired back. Without waiting for the Hunter to confirm his suspicions, the youth continued with his tale.

“Ragar’s henchmen captured me while I was travelling through Hulya on my way to Ghoshal Forest. I travel from city to town to village to offer my medical and healing services to those in need, and Ragar had heard of me. Instead of requesting my assistance, he decided to kidnap me and hold me against my will so that I could serve only him,” Lathlin said, a tone of bitterness infusing his last statement.

“You’re right,” Belac freely admitted, “Ragar sent me to capture and return you to him, but why should I believe your version of the story?” he asked gruffly. Although he had excellent instincts about people, and his were telling him now that the Elfling was being truthful, he wanted more information before taking any kind of decisive action.

“Ragar is dying,” Lathlin stated simply, but with downcast eyes. “He knows my healing powers are strong and he thought I could arrest his disease and cure him, but I cannot. He is too far gone.

“I perceive the condition of a person’s state of health through the colours, or rather, the energy surrounding them. I can manipulate the flow of energy to heal any who suffers from a disease or ailment. Ragar was engulfed by hues of blacks, browns and reds. He probably has less than two months to live,” ended Lathlin.

Just then, another figure stepped out from behind a concealing bush into the twilight. Belac instinctively reached for his dagger, but Lathlin quickly said, “Peace, Belac. He is a friend, and someone who can verify my story.”

Belac looked closely at the newcomer and recognised his facial markings: he was a member of Thugs, Inc., Ragar’s gang. Belac found the gang’s name as banal as every member in it. Seeing the piercings and tattoos only caused him to be even more suspicious of the man.

He was short in stature and quite plump, and he walked with a noticeable limp. Slouched would be a more accurate description of his gait, Belac thought to himself. The Thug came to stand next to the Elfling, and the absolute contrast between the two was not lost on Belac.

“This is Rhinihr, my friend,” Lathlin introduced the man, who made a slight bow in Belac’s direction. Belac was surprised to see that Rhinihr had eyes of the clearest, brightest green that blazed out from a wrinkled and weathered face.

“He helped me escape from Ragar because I cured him of a severe ailment he had,” he continued. “He can tell you if I am telling the truth or trying to deceive you.”

“S’truth. Every word the Elfling said to ya. Ragar had Talat snatch ’im up quick-like, bag ’im up like a sack of taters and lug ’im off to Queleuq. I was told to look after the Elfling until Ragar was ready to see ’im. Lathlin immediately seen I was in pain and ’elped me without me e’en askin’ for ’is help. Caught me ’eart and dedication, that did,” Rhinihr ended and smiled lovingly at Lathlin.

“You did not have to ask, Rhinihr. It is my calling and sworn duty to ease or release the physical ailments and pains of all creatures. I am grateful though that you helped me escape.” He turned to Belac and continued, “Rhinihr smuggled me out in a laundry cart and met me at the edge of Queleuq. From there, the two of us made all haste to put great distance between us and Ragar’s henchmen, who were sure to pursue us. I had ensured that we would be far gone before the alarm about my escape was raised,” Lathlin ended.

“And how did you accomplish that?” asked Belac curtly. His suspicions had not yet been allayed.

“You must have been in the midst of the incense clouds in Ragar’s house, yes? Well, those fumes ease Ragar’s pain and allow him to function slightly better than usual, but I added a powerful soporific to the incense on the night of my escape. It put Ragar in such a deep slumber that he would only wake up at twilight of the next day, thus affording us ample hours to flee his reach. By that time, Rhinihr and I were deep into these woods and we knew Ragar’s Thugs have not the ability to track anyone successfully,” Lathlin ended.

Belac looked from the Elfling to the ex-Thug and saw truth stamped on their features. He finally gave a brief, grudging smile and rose.

“Well, I’m convinced, but it now leaves me with a conundrum. I accepted a commission and Hunters never renege on a transaction. There’s only one thing I can do: take you back to Ragar in Queleuq. I will return his money and force him to release you,” Belac announced to the obvious consternation of Rhinihr. Lathlin only looked in utter calm at Belac.

“Yor bluddy outta yor mind, you is,” Rhinihr spluttered before Lathlin laid a placating hand upon the man’s shoulder.

“He is right, Rhinihr,” he told the old man. “Ragar will never leave me alone otherwise. But you need not return with us. In fact, you should continue on to Habelaterna, and meet with the Elf League there. I will give you a missive to support the story you will tell them of my abduction. They will see to your needs, good friend,” Lathlin said kindly and rested his forehead fondly against the old Thug’s silver head. Rhinihr was crying in sincerity, and Belac was deeply touched by the man’s obvious affection for Lathlin. He wondered idly what exactly Rhinihr had suffered from which Lathlin had cured him of. A sudden thought struck him.

“If you can manipulate energies to heal the sick, why don’t you cure your own blindness?” he asked bluntly.

“Ah, friend Belac, this is the cost of my gift. By healing others, I have lost my own sight. Curing them of their various conditions has caused my own energy to become corrupted and continues to do so. That corruption could have been far worse, but it affected only my sight. A meagre price to pay, I think,” Lathlin said with a smile. He left Belac speechless.

With quick, efficient movements, Rhinihr started packing up his gear while Lathlin speedily penned a letter to the head of the Elf League. Belac stood sentinel while the two were thus occupied. He knew there were more creatures within the forest that could attack them at any moment, and some of them were as fatally dangerous as the dreiche.

Within a short while, the friends were ready to part.

“I will send help, lad. I promise ’ee,” Rhinihr vowed and gripped Lathlin’s hand. He gave the young Elf a final, tight hug before he carried on towards Habelaterna. Belac and Lathlin solemnly watched him until he disappeared from view.

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