Quendalon/Session32ZeraInterlude

Sweat coursed down the forehead of the archer, glinting in the eldritch light of the half-sun caste mark bursting from between the Solar's furrowed brow.

He leaped from branch to branch, sometimes breaking the cover of the heavy branches to burst from the canopy and bound almost a hundred yards away. Zera Thisse never got enough distance to quell the raspy breathing of the monster behind him. The huge form tore through the bushes and leapt over roots and brambles, howling like the damned as it took swipes at the archer with huge stag-like horns.

Perhaps the most ironic fact of this chase between animal and man, played out thousands of times and in different roles, was that they knew each other well – they once called each other friend.

Zera knew exactly what Fetek Breath-of-Midnight was capable of, and his mind raced to anticipate what tricks the Lunar would use to catch him. The Solar didn't need to think too hard to determine what the enraged boy would do if he caught up to him.

The funny thing is, Zera thought, I am not afraid of him at all. I should be. He had little time to ruminate on his lack of passion. He could feel the hot breath of the Beast-man on his neck, and he could picture the Lunar reaching with his clawed hands. He focused his Essence and burst forth from the cover of leaves, and as he leapt he twisted his body in mid-air.

A quick glance behind him proved his guess true. The boy had shifted into a hawk and was winging rapidly towards him. As he landed on the soft bough of an evergreen tree, his weight caused the thin branch to drop sharply. As he hoped, the bird was flying too fast to react, and Fetek shot by him. Zera lined up his shot, and sent a blast of pure Solar flame straight towards his friend.

The only thing that saved Fetek's life was his own ingenuity. Seeing the archer pull back, he shifted form. The beastman dropped from the sky like a stone, and the Solar Spike only scored a grazing wound on one massive arm.

That's the cleverest thing I've ever seen a blood-thirsty, half-mad animal do, Zera thought to himself. I'll have to think harder. There's too much to do to die here. He knew he couldn't last long in a face-to-face encounter. He whipped his head from side to side as the enraged Lunar advanced, looking for something to turn to his advantage. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind.

* * * * *

Zera desperately threw his body to the side, as the charging Lunar's horns slashed deep into the trunk of the tree that the Solar had just stood in front of.

* * * * *

He rolled to his feet and didn't have to touch his right side to know that at least one edge had struck true. Ignoring the burning pain shooting up his ribcage, he forded a large creek jumping from rock to rock. Zera gritted his teeth as he watched Fetek shift into a pike and cross the river in half the time.

The now-familiar beastform surfaced like a barely-remembered nightmare, slavering and red-eyed. Zera dropped to one knee behind the cover of a lichen-covered boulder and raised Sixty-Seven Precious Venoms. Essence flared around him in a whirling nimbus of gold and violet light as he drew the fletching to his cheek and released. The arrow flew at the Lunar and split into five, which proved to be too many for the Lunar to dodge completely.

* * * * *

The Iron Wolf didn't stay to watch his Circlemate yank three arrows from his chest and right thigh. Zera already was back in the trees, hurtling from branch to branch as if Death himself coursed behind him with his black-furred hounds.

As he fled, he realized that his anima banner was in full display, the muscular, angel-winged figure of golden light rising above the treetops with flaming sword in hand. He also realized that in this state, Aekino could track him blindfolded, and that his arrows hardly took the fight out of the Lunar.

* * * * *

It was two hours since he had shot his friend with his jade and orichalcum bow. He now bled from his shoulder and his right foot, as well as the older wound along his left short rib. The only good news was that his anima had receded to a manageable level.

He hadn't expected Fetek to entirely abandon the slower beastman for the hawk form, but he had to congratulate him for his combat acumen. The black-feathered hawk was hard to see in the pale moonlight filtering through the leaves, and the talons were too fast to counter or turn aside with the haft of his bow.

The Night Caste had finally turned the tide when his sharp eyes noted the outline of a woodsman's cabin, large enough to have more than one room. It was perfect.

Zera knew that Fetek was well aware of his shapechanging capabilities, and thought he might be able to turn that against him, especially when the Lunar so obviously hungered for his blood.

He pushed through the pain and lengthened his stride, reaching the cabin a full fifteen seconds before the wheeling hawk form. He kicked open the door and immediately took on the form of a woodcutter he knew back home. He raced into one of the adjoining rooms and hid behind it, waiting.

The sound of splintering oak had awakened the luckless woodsman, who came out of his bedroom in time to see the lumbering Beastman crash through the doorframe, and Zera moved when he heard the sound of screaming and of wet, ripping flesh. He took his hand off the mouth of the little girl, who he held with an iron grip. As she screamed for help, Zera dove through a window and slammed the shutters closed behind him.

* * * * *

He had been running ever since, sticking to the ground and not spending any Essence. He hadn't heard any sounds of pursuit since the cabin, and he guessed by the number of rooms that Fetek had had at least two adults and three children to keep him busy while Zera gained a healthy lead.

If he were Fetek, he would have killed them all because Zera could have been any one of them. Perhaps some people would look down on such a tactic, but Zera would not let himself be killed and eaten by a blood-mad Lunar boy with a penchant for betrayal. It wasn't his fault that his erstwhile companions had attempted to slay him. It just proved that compassion was a fool's game, and he didn't intend to play anymore.

He had only one person he could trust now, himself. Vague memories of blue eyes and the touch of fingers on his cheek flashed through his mind, but they didn't awaken any special feeling. Zera sank to the soft earth and did his best to breathe slowly and quietly, to little avail.

* * * * *

He had escaped for the moment, but they would be hunting him. He was now the Chosen of the Sun, and he would probably be hunted for the rest of his life. Well, he thought, let them come. I've been hunted before. Dragon-Bloods, Wyld Hunt, Solars, Lunars, let them all come! They will be hard-pressed to catch Zera Thisse!

* * * * *

He rested for two or three hours, actually trusting his hiding place enough to sleep. He awoke with the rising of the sun, the first gentle rays bathing him as he ripped his cloak into strips and bound his scabbing wounds.

A few minutes walk brought him to the edge of the forest. A quick flash of Essence, and his face was worn and weathered, and the beautiful artifact bow was wrapped in the remainder of his cloak. He affected a hobbling gait, and made his way into a small village at the edge of the wood. It wouldn't be long before he found his bearings and was on his way to Great Forks. He knew that Fetek and perhaps Thorwald may find him there, but the cities were as much his element as the woods, perhaps more so. Let them come…