"Well?" the hunter asked expectantly. "Who are you two?"
Amos checked his mana reserves. Empty. So much for the practice.
Replenishing, but excruciatingly slowly. Like an hourglass, but the passage was too small for the sand to flow regularly.
I wonder if I can increase my mana regeneration rate somehow...
"Hello! Are you deaf or just dumb?!" the hunter deftly unslung the bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow in Amos' direction. The four-eyed demon wolf reinforced the hunter's question by gnashing its oversized teeth.
"We don't want any trouble!" Amos said.
"You picked a bad spot for peace," the hunter said, rolling a shoulder. The steely tip of the arrow didn't waver an inch despite the movement. He clicked his tongue and the wolf trotted to his side. "Good girl, Bin."
"Bin?" Amos couldn't help his curiosity. It was cute - from a distance.
"She smells like trash and eats all the scraps," the hunter smiled. "She's my Bin."
I should keep him talking. He clearly loves that wolf.
"Why does she have four eyes? Is it a genetic mutation?"
"A what? No, she-" the hunter's eyes narrowed and he lowered his bow. "Are you actually dumb?"
"Yes, we are!" Ink said cheerfully, "That's what my Master always says, anyway, and he's never wrong."
The hunter blinked. His gaze darted between the two boys. The demon wolf whined and the hunter sighed. He slung the bow back over his shoulder, all terse energy dissipated.
"Come," he said. "You're not safe here."
The hunter stepped silently through the forest. Any dry leaf or out-of-place twig was deftly avoided by the hunter and his faithful wolf, Bin, plodding along beside him. It was a stark contrast to the tired crashing of Amos and Ink.
Along their dark trek, the hunter introduced himself. "Name's Mondir," he said, almost a whisper.
"Amos," Amos pointed to himself, then his friend, "and Ink."
Ink flexed, showing off his tattooed muscles.
"Try to keep it down," Mondir said. "The Mutabeasts hunt at night."
"What's a-" Ink began, before being silenced with a sharp look from Mondir. He nodded his understanding.
Bin led the way through the sticks. Eventually, the group came to a tree that was of no particular note, save for the width of its trunk. It wasn't the widest Amos had ever seen, but it was decent. Bin sat by the base of it and wagged her tail, looking to her master. Mondir ruffled the fur atop her head and whispered something to her. He unslung his bow and leaned on the trunk as Bin leapt with an unnatural strength directly upwards. Her claws stuck into the bark of the tree like she was walking along a flat plane and not a perfectly vertical surface.
Amos' jaw dropped.
"Woah," Ink said.
Mondir chuckled. "That's my girl. She always likes to go first."
A few short yips sounded from above, calling Amos' attention skywards. When he tilted his head back to search for Bin, he saw...
"A treehouse!" Ink said, clapping with joy.
"Follow me," said Mondir. He examined the tree for a moment, then dug his fingers into the deep ruts created by Bin's ascent and proceed to climb to the entrance. Amos and Ink did the same with great effort.
The treehouse was lit only by the silvered light of the moon, casting everything in an ethereal shade. The wooden planks that comprised of the floor were sanded smooth without even a whisper of splintering.
The treehouse itself was a single room supported by beams underneath, the wide tree trunk dominating the centre. Shelves filled with strange bottles and haphazardly strewn knives were nailed all around the trunk. The only openings were the trapdoor entrance and a window facing south.
Mondir's furniture was simple: A pile of hay on something resembling a pallet for a bed, a single stool and a small square table. Bin plodded over to a large metal bowl filled with still water and drank messily.
"You don't have a ladder to get up here?" Amos asked without taking his eyes off the muscled wolf splashing chaotically in the corner.
"Easy access for the Mutabeasts. Better to just climb," Mondir shrugged. "They don't normally look up so this is the safest place to sleep really."
Amos nodded wisely.
It seems like the Mutabeasts are common knowledge. I should wait for Ink to ask again so I don't draw attention to myself.
Ink was leaning out the window. A gentle breeze played with his black hair. "You make them sound so scary," he said without turning around.
Mondir busied himself with removing his weaponry. Amos waited for Ink to continue.
"Amos told me once that wolves are bad. They just want to eat us," Ink turned around to watch Bin walk over to Mondir. She nudged his hand and he absently scratched her gigantic ears. "I wanted to be friends with them. Those wolves were bad, but Bin is a good wolf."
"Wouldn't go that far..." Mondir said.
"Why can't you be friends with the Mutabeasts instead of hiding from them?"
Mondir sighed. He pushed himself off the wall and led the two boys over to his tiny desk. There was a thick ledger, unbound and held together by crude metal clips. There was a title on the front in a steady script that Amos couldn't read.
"What's this?" Amos asked.
"You can't read?" Mondir said with a sneer.
"No," Amos lowered his head. "I grew up on a farm."
"Oh," Mondir said. "Ink, help him out."
Ink looked blankly between the two of them.
"For fuck's sake, you're both illiterate? Let me guess, striking it out in the woods to make a name for yourselves? Ink and Amos: great adventurers! Hunters of monsters and saviors of maidens!"
"I don't want to hunt anything..." Ink said.
"What are you two actually doing here? In the forest?" Mondir placed a protective hand over his ledger.
Whatever he was going to show us must be important information. He won't reveal it until he's satisfied.
I can't know how he'll react to Drai, but I need that information!
"We're running from the Trenmir. I became Drai and-" Amos' voice hitched as his mind was flooded with images of his parents. Kien at Darian's mercy. The hatred in Leila's voice.
Amos clenched his teeth and shook his head, wiping himself of those memories.
It's in Yakob's hands now.
Ink laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Heh. Drai," Mondir dropped the word like a stone. Bin bared her teeth. Her hackles were raised and she let out a low growl, but Mondir held a hand on her head, keeping her back. Mondir turned his back on Ink and Amos. He left the ledger on the table and walked over to the shelves on the trunk.
Amos couldn't see what he took off. "We-" Amos began.
"Ever heard of a Mutagem?" Mondir asked casually. The air was tense.
"Um, no?" Amos said.
Whoosh. Thud.
A knife impaled itself in the wall behind Amos. It just barely missed him. Mondir appeared to have barely moved - still showing his back. Bin, on the other hand, was facing Ink and Amos, crouched low and snarling.
"I invite you into my home," Mondir said, taking something else off the shelf with a fluid movement. "I spared your life. You're in my edge of the woods, so don't you dare lie to me. What is a Mutagem?"
"I don't know, I swear!" Amos said.
"Are you angry at us, Mondir?" Ink asked.
Whoosh, thud.
Another knife in the wall. Behind Ink this time.
"Not talking to you, muscles. What type of Drai are you?" Another twitch, and Mondir was facing Amos now, knife held high. "No more chances."
"Wait! I don't know what's happening to me! I'm not from around here, I didn't understand! I don't even have any mana!"
"Who is your patron?" Mondir's voice was cool and low. The final question.
Amos chewed his lip.
He won't understand...
But I have no choice!
"Aries and Cancer."
"Don't play with me."
"He has fire and gold thingy powers," Ink insisted, "I've seen it."
Mondir lowered his knife. "How is that possible?"
"I don't know," Amos lied. "They both claimed me in the dream world."
Mondir shook his head. "Fuckin' Gods," he muttered under his breath. "You guys really don't know what a Mutabeast is? You're not here to poach my crop?"
"Nope!" Ink said cheerfully.
"I don't understand a thing you're saying," Amos added.
Mondir sighed. "Bed, Bin," he pointed, and Bin went to lay on the hay.
Not his bed then. Or maybe they share.
"Sorry about the threats," the hunter continued, moving to remove the knives from the walls. "Can never be too careful with Drai."
Amos just swallowed and nodded.
"What about you?" Mondir asked Ink as he walked past him.
"I'm not Drai, but my master is an Alchemist," he responded cheerfully. Ink seemed to have forgotten the threats Mondir made already despite the blades in his hands - water under the bridge.
"I suppose I can show you then," Mondir said, ignoring Ink and returning to the ledger. "Just don't go crazy on me alright, Amos?"
Amos nodded, practically bounding over to the book, salivating for new information on the world around him.
"I'm a hunter. They call us Wildmen. Me and my brethren are the keepers and the harvesters of the boons nature grants us. Each Wildman clan collates all knowledge of our greatest quarries into a ledger like this, and passes it down across generations. In each ledger you will find notes on how to hunt, avoid, kill, eat, process, and skin Mutabeasts."
"But what is a Mutabeast?" Ink asked. He was dancing around impatiently. "And do you have a toilet?"
"Patience. The ledgers are called Mutabestiaries. Each clan has their family name printed at the front and the lead Wildman of the clan will review and add notes to the master copy for those who come after us. Look, this says Fastheart," Mondir pointed to the script on the first page. "The lead Wildman signs it when they inherit the master copy of their Mutabestiary."
He trailed his hand down a list of names before coming to the last.
"Mondir Fastheart? You're the clan leader?" Amos guessed.
Mondir nodded. "Janggi. Kendel. Aimer. Urbara. All past leaders of the Fasthearts. We convene every year to compare notes and update the master copy. Otherwise, we are solitary beasts."
"That sounds lonely," Ink said, "it's good to have friends."
"I have Bin, as bad as she smells." Bin snorted at the comment and Mondir smiled. He opened the book. It was filled with cramped handwriting - scribbled notes, struck through and appended at points, interspersed with different pieces of handwriting. There were tables of strange runes that Amos felt were vaguely familiar for some reason, but he quickly forgot them in favour of the illustrations.
As Mondir flipped through, Amos caught sight of various beasts he recognised and some he didn't. Dragons, vampires, zombies, mermaids, werewolves - all the classics, all in full colour with notations around the drawings. He even saw one picture of what looked to be an oversized Ra.
"These are Mutabeasts. Mana-infused predators. Cultivated by Gods or other magics to be more powerful than regular animals. Left alone, they would rule the world. The work of the Wildmen is to ensure the safety of humanity by controlling population levels." Mondir stopped on a page with a drawing of a snarling wolf - it had four eyes and multiple sets of teeth like a shark. He looked back at Bin and smiled weakly.
"Is she..."
The job of the Wildmen is to kill Mutabeasts, but Mondir keeps one as a pet?
"When they reach a certain size," Mondir continued, "or age, the mana flowing through them changes their organs irreversibly. Their stomachs calcify, their muscles grow, their hearts turn to stone. The hearts retain mana even after the Mutabeast dies. For this reason, fools across history try their hand at a Wildman's work without any training, entering their territories and attempting to slay Mutabeasts for their heart. We call them Mutagems. They are worth a lot of money."
"That's what you thought we were doing!" Amos exclaimed, "That's why you were so angry!"
Mondir nodded. "Mutabeasts are dangerous. There are many types in this forest, some are easy enough for the untrained to kill. Others..."
"We weren't doing that," Ink said, "We don't care about money. We were just hungry."
"Well," Mondir said flipping to a page he had bookmarked, "there have been sightings of a Terradrake in this region. If you ever see this, run."
The Wildman held the book up so the boys could get a good look. The Terradrake was a fearsome beast. There was a human for size comparison that only came up to its ankle, and it was depicted breathing fire. The artist had attempted to texture its hide but was clearly not practiced - it appeared to be a mix of scales and hair.
It looks like a dinosaur...
"Anyway," Mondir snapped the book shut. Bin looked up lazily, but went back to sleep within seconds. "Enough scary stories for tonight. It's late and there's hunting to be done tomorrow."
"So tired..." Ink yawned.
"Where can we sleep?" Amos asked.
Mondir looked around, confused. "Anywhere," he said, then pointed out the window. "Toilet's out there."
The Wildman promptly lay down on the hard wood and began to snore, refusing to field anymore questions. Ink shrugged and went back down the tree for a moment before returning to join the Wildman on the floor. They took turns snoring loudly, one after the other.
What the...
In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.
Amos lay down. It was uncomfortable, but he was so tired that he fell asleep anyway.
...
The boys woke to an empty treehouse the following morning. Mondir was clearly an early riser, and he had taken Bin with him. The only thing he left behind was a hastily scrawled note pinned to the floor next to the trapdoor.
He must have remembered both Ink and Amos couldn't read halfway through writing it, as the text was supplanted by pictograms at the bottom of the page.
Whilst it was true that the writing was illegible to Amos, he found himself beginning to recognise vague shapes. Some of the letters looked familiar - but he couldn't place a sound to the writing.
Maybe I don't need Yakob to teach me to read after all. I just need to make it a priority!
The paper was thin in Amos' hands, clearly cheap. He examined the drawings: A box with some crudely drawn trees underneath. Two stick figures inside. There were violently drawn cross marks in amongst the charcoal forest, done with such fervour as to smudge the drawing in general. In the corner of the page was a circular shape with crossed bones underneath, just as violently drawn.
"Soup," Ink said sagely, pointing at the last shape.
"That's not soup," Amos responded.
"Look, there's the fire and a bowl. It's soup."
"No, Ink, I've seen it before, it-"
"I'm hungry, I think Mondir is saying to go get some soup."
"It's not soup, it's-" Amos was cut off by Ink pointing lower on the page. There was a barely identifiable stick figure with wild hair and something that Amos gracefully interpreted as a rendition of Bin.
"That's Mondir," Ink said.
"Yeah..."
"So he's going to make soup."
"No, Ink, look at the bones."
"Soup bones. Yum."
"Ink! I'm trying to tell you it's the Trenmir symbol!" Amos burst.
"Oh."
"It's a warning! He's saying don't go too far or we'll get caught."
"But I'm hungry."
Amos sighed. "Let's go look for another hamster trap or something. But we're not going far, okay?"
"Okay," Ink grinned.
...
Amos spent several hours leading Ink around in progressively wider circles from the treehouse. They found nothing of note and Amos wasn't about to try eating random plants from the forest.
I don't want to go any further and lose track of the treehouse. We could just wait for Mondir back at base, but...
Wait, which direction was the treehouse?
"Are we lost?" Ink piped up for the first time in at least an hour.
"Yes," Amos snapped. "We went too far." He sat down heavily and put his head in his hands. Ink sat next to him.
Ink's stomach rumbled loudly. "I'm going to keep looking for food," he said.
"Don't get lost," Amos said without looking up. "Wait, I'll just come with you. We're already lost."
They wandered some more. Ink suggested climbing trees to see if they could find their way back to Mondir's treehouse. Amos tried to remember which direction it was, and compared it with the trajectory of the sun, but it was no use.
It was veritably afternoon when they gave up.
"I guess we're the food now," Amos said, "for the Mutabeasts."
"Chin up, Amos, we'll find our way back!"
"I wish there was a bowl of soup somewhere around here..."
"Leila's mush would be great right about now," Ink reminisced.
"Pottage. But yes," Amos agreed.
At that point, Ink's stomach growled louder than it ever had before. Amos looked at him, only to be met with an accusatory glance as well. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by another rumbling growl, louder.
Amos sniffed the air and was met with a familiar smell - stench, more accurately. He turned around.
"Bin!" Ink said. He threw his arms out for a hug and ran at the tame Mutabeast, but it leaped backwards and snarled.
"Not friendly yet," Amos said. "Not to us, anyway. This stuff takes time, Ink."
Ink crossed his arms, dark tattoos meeting each other where his skin touched, and pouted. Bin gave a few short yips and spun in a circle. Amos watched, amused.
Bin started to walk off, and the boys followed. Every few metres, she would stop and look back, checking Amos and Ink were still there. After a short while, the Mutabeast stopped at an inconspicuous spot and began pawing at the ground. She shoved her snout into the shallow rut and exhaled, pushing dirt around, then looked back up at Amos.
"You want me to dig?" he asked.
Bin sat down and licked her lips. Her four eyes blinked slowly, one after the other.
Amos shrugged and got to work. It didn't take long to reveal a stash of nuts, probably left by a squirrel or some other strange beast inhabiting the forest here. Ink's face lit up at the sight of something he could put in his belly, but Amos tossed a few nuts to Bin first. She caught them out of the air with unwavering grace and speed, swallowing without a second thought.
"Good girl," Amos said. Then, they both dug in. It was meagre offerings, but they were hungry enough not to care. Anything at all was a gift.
When they were done eating, Bin led the way back to the treehouse where Mondir was waiting. He shook his head at the sight of them, as if he knew they had gotten lost and Bin had found food for them.
"Useless," he muttered. "I'll have to teach you both how to hunt."
"I don't want to..." Ink said.
"Not interested in the ways of the Wildmen?"
"I am!" Amos said, not wanting to let the opportunity go. "Teach me to hunt!"