The Ghostfire King looked to the heavens, yearning to travel beyond the confines he was trapped within.
Rising on burning wings, he crested the trees, leaving this world of dead Titans and rot behind. Above, the moon dominated the heavens, a gleaming orb in the night sky.
Higher and higher. The air grew thin and cold, and eventually, he landed. The world spread out below him, a wonderful sight. But eventually, he grew restless once more. The moon, so shining and radiant, was cold and dead. A skull floating in the void.
He traveled again, walking across the surface of that desolate place, until he crossed into a world of shadow. And on the other side, the heavens opened up before him. A river of stars, spreading across the expanse. Nebulae gleaming and shifting, the pillars of creation rising in the distance. Angels, warriors, untold stories spread out before him, no longer hidden by the reflected light of the moon, or the rot of the gods below.
Bidding the world farewell, the Lord of Hunters stepped into the infinite ocean before him, to travel towards those distant stars.
Book of Thorns 9:6
KEVYN
The room was, in most respects, a mess. The Sunvaar weren’t particularly known for their affinity for organization, but the ship was starting to take on the look of a dump. Bottles were laying around the floorboards, most empty, one gripped in Kevyn’s arm. His head felt like somebody was trying to hammer out through his skull, a familiar feeling most mornings. Groaning, the scarred Sunvaar rose shakily to his feet.
Grey was nearby, entirely in her wolf form, curled up and hiding her face, more bottles surrounding her. Kevyn couldn’t help but frown looking at her, letting out a heavy sigh.
His entire body ached as he walked to the main deck, pausing as he saw Zarucan, the old bear, slouched over the railing, looking out on the city they’d made their temporary base of operations, Baytown.
Shuffling his feet, Kevyn turned on his heel and tried to walk away, but the old bear’s grunt stopped him in his tracks, letting the Stormblood know he’d been noticed.
“…Yes, Zarucan?” came the quiet reply, a strange case of nerves coming over Kevyn. The old bear was, well, old, but even then Kevyn couldn’t help but be intimidated by the hunter. Most Sunvaar never made it to that age, and Kevyn hadn’t met many older men before he’d found the Sunvaar either. If there’s one thing he knew, it was to be wary of an old man in a profession where they tend to die young.
Zarucan shook his head, turning his good eye to look at Kevyn. Both men were missing one of their eyes, opposites, but Zarucan didn’t bother covering up his milky orb, a stark contrast to the eyepatch Kevyn wore to cover his own.
“…Never turn down a drink,” the old bear said, his voice a bit grim. “Both o’ ya drink as much as you like. It’s fine. Good reward for good hunt.”
He glared a bit, jutting his jaw a bit out as he shook his head, a vein in his neck visible.
“Different. Grey, she is…down,” Zarucan said, his voice wavering a bit. “Like she’s injured. Can’t have it. Worry for her on the hunt.”
Kevyn coughed, taking a few steps closer and trying to ignore his awful hangover as he leaned against the railing, looking at the man who’d fished him out of the ocean four years before.
“It’s Zelith. Witchblood from Stinjul,” Kevyn grumbled. “They got close. Think she…misses her.”
Zarucan raised an eyebrow at that.
“…Plenty of people here. She’s brought home a few already,” Zarucan said. “Been months.”
Kevyn ran a hand through his hair, groaning.
“Different, old bear. Fought that monster together. They got close. Close enough that it hurts more when they’re apart, right?” he said, keenly aware he was talking to a man who had, as far as Kevyn was aware, never had a romantic relationship in his life. Grey herself was an orphan, found in the blood of Sunvaar according to Zarucan. “Something she can’t get from the others, that…spark and closeness that Zelith has.”
The old bear looked towards Stinjul, the faint haze of the larger city visible on the edge of the horizon.
“…Fall Festival coming,” he said, almost grimly. “Work for those. Keeping spirits away. We sail for Stinjul.”
Kevyn watched as Zarucan walked towards the wheel, following the older man halfway there.
“Bit early, isn’t it?”
Zarucan shook his head, growling.
“Daughter comes first. Always.”
GREY
As the boat shook and moved, Grey stirred, a sniffle coming involuntarily as she pulled her hidden head up. A wolf, a proper wolf, would not be crying. But The Grey Storm, even in this form, was still capable of shedding tears.
Growling under her breath, she shifted her weight, moving a few of the empty bottles away from her, sitting up. As she looked at the door, Kevyn entered, looking a bit worried.
“…Headed for Stinjul. Few days early. Can get some hunting in before the festival, you know. Get some time and money for….all that.”
Grey shook her head, yipping a bit and turning to look away from Kevyn.
The Stormblood winced, running a hand along the scar on his lip where Grey had busted it when he’d insulted Zelith after the fight with the demon.
“…I get it,” Kevyn said simply, leaning against a wall. Grey turned to look at the Stormblood, trying to not look at the injury she’d caused. Guilt and sadness didn’t mix well with a hangover, even as a wolf.
After a moment of silence, Grey still not shifting back to her human self, Kevyn gritted his teeth. Grey couldn’t help but wonder if she looked the same, when words would fail her.
“I thought you were just…looking for fun, right?” Kevyn said, sighing. “Not anything else. And I said shit, right? I was…I am annoyed. About how this stuff just comes to you. And it felt like you weren’t taking it seriously.”
Grey plopped her head on her paws, trying hard to not just keep glaring at her fellow hunter. She wanted to talk back, to argue, but staying like this felt easier.
“I had a Zelith,” Kevyn said, looking away. “Before the Sunvaar. And he…he was taken from me. In a fucking second. Never had a chance to say goodbye. Just…the love of my young life, dead. Felt like shit. Thinking about how it could have been if I just…fucking said something sooner. Hadn’t been such evasive idiots and took the plunge.”
Grey watched as a tear leaked from the golden-haired man’s good eye, shaking his head as he looked at Grey.
“Just…fucking do it. Take the chance. Because it’ll eat away at you forever if you don’t.”
As Kevyn turned to leave, Grey felt the guilt get worse, a sense of almost stoic resolve slowing coming over her. As Kevyn reached the door, her arms shifted back, her body becoming smaller until she was leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of her as she looked at his back.
“…What was his name?”
Kevyn paused, turning to look at her.
“Hallr,” he said quietly, before pushing the door open and closing it behind him.
Grey watched as the door closed, before looking at her armor, starting to get dressed as she stewed on what he’d said. Her forehead was threatening to split open, but there was a resolve growing in her as well.
“….Just say it.”
Strike The Horizon 