Hatchling

by Lupine King

  Meaning that, if there was a bonfire between two fire attributed arcanists of comparable strengths only the person who established a connection to the flames first could control it. This was evident in the fact that Valerian was unable to summon the weapons of those who channelled their qi or arcane energy into their gear back then. Also, he could not even move the armour or weapons of the knights because they were already branded with their essence.

  Valerian was disappointed to discover this limitation because, without it, he would have been completely immune to wind and metal spells and weapons once he mastered their respective elemental manipulation techniques. Still, it was a cool and convenient power. He could move his new dagger anyway he wanted. Making it hover beside him or attack anything at a distance. He effectively had a flying sword for the price of a common dagger.

  All that was beside the way, today he would be going hunting with his grandmother. He could not keep his excitement contained. Even going to bed the night before was difficult and the smile on his face seemed permanent. He could not help it. Today would be the first time he stepped out of the city limits. And he was going to fly as well.

  He walked up to Gulsalma, his grandmother's mount. Gulsalma was more than just a mount and she made sure to remind everyone of that fact. She was his grandmother's first contracted beast, a Dire Daemon, mount, battle beast and right hand. It meant that she was always at her side and that she was the leader of all the beasts in the manor estate and around it.

  She was also half Numinous Leopard and the most powerful daemon Valerian had ever laid eyes on. Numinous Leopards were extremely high ranked daemons on par with dragons, phoenixes and white tigers. This meant that she was born with incredible innate gifts and blessed with great potential.

  She made sure that everyone knew that had she been in the wild she would be a fearsome Horde Lorde with a territory spanning hundreds of square kilometres. This was an accepted fact. She was right and no one could contest it. Who would dare argue with a Dire Daemon let alone one that was large enough to be used as a mount?

  At two metres, twenty centimetres wither height, five and a half metres long with a further three metres of tail, it was three times bigger than a normal leopard. The rosette covered, flaxen furred beast had good reason for its arrogance. It had claws and teeth that could rend steel and a bite that chomped through marble pillars. Not to mention the fact that it was absurdly fast.

  How fast Valerian did not know but, the fact that they would be riding Gulsalma today was more than enough of a treat. The thing was though, they were going to fly and the proud feline had no wings. Flying was not one of her innate traits but rather a learned magic. One that he would get to experience today.

  So he got onto the daemon, sitting in front of his grandmother. She had no reins and no saddle. She did not need any. The connection between beast and mistress was that strong.

  You see Clara Steelborn was not just the demure, hardworking wife of a city magistrate, but also a beast tamer. She was a cultivator who specialised in the rearing and training of daemons, a job she was very good at. In fact, rearing daemons was in her blood.

  Her clan were plains folk whose primary profession was ranching daemon horses for mounts. However, she was not a simple breeder but a cultivator well respected for her battle might. Why? Because of her contracted battle beasts.

  She did not focus on her own strength as much as she did the training and strengthening of daemon partners like Gulsalma and Sela. That did not mean she was personally weak. Far from it. All it meant was that she lived, trained and fought alongside her daemon companions.

  Many did not know it but whilst Richard was the most obviously dangerous person in the manor, the most powerful person was actually his grandmother. Valerian was willing to bet that not even his uncle Vorm was a match for her in battle.

  The thing to keep in mind was that beast tamers did not fight alone. They fought with their beasts. Not even Vorm, his Hoarfrost Spikesaur or both working together could possibly be a match for an experienced Arcane Lord, two Dire Daemons and two Daemon Lords who were adept at working and fighting together as well as covering each other's weaknesses.

  Sitting on the back of one of those Dire Daemons made Valerian giddy. So giddy in fact that before take-off Gulsalma warned him.

  “Better sit still Val! We wouldn't want you falling off now, would we? Oh and keep your mouth shut. There are a lot of insects about”.

  Aptly warned Valerian sat back, quiet as a mouse. This prompted Clara to laugh and remind her oldest friend.

  “Don't scare Valerian Sal. He has enough to think about. This is his first hunt after all”.

  This was something Valerian did not want to be reminded off. He had come to understand that the significance of being taken on this hunt was greater than he first thought. His grandmother was one of the plains folk and one of those who took hunting very seriously. A young person's first hunt was a deep and meaningful thing.

  As a matter of fact at dawn that morning, he had been required to take a ritual bath, say some prayers to his ancestors, and undergo mental preparation for what was to come.

  In the old days, only cultivators were true hunters among the plains people. This was because they were the only ones who could hunt anything of significance, as in daemons. They were warriors, the elite of their tribes and clans and models for the young. Hunting was also a spiritual thing. Valerian did not really understand it but he knew it was important.

  Thus, hunters may share their title with their mundane counterparts but they were more. In many ways, they were custodians of culture and a throwback to earlier times. Theirs was a profession that Valerian had yet to understand but he knew that true hunters held power amongst the plains folk.

  The plains folk were the true natives of Cragsveil and the surrounding counties. A large part of Bathar was grassland and the plains folk were the people of the grasslands. Most were actually settled, nomadic tribes. There were still actively nomadic ones but historically, they were people who moved from place to place, taking what they needed from the land, giving back to it and moving on to another site.

  Each tribe or clan had at least one speciality and his grandmother's was horse ranching. They had a diverse range of breeds and were among the most reputed horse breeders within the surrounding six kingdoms.

  Then again, they were also hunters and tamers. His grandmother was no different. She grew up in the clan leader's household and her brother was the current chieftain. She was trained not as a breeder but as a hunter and a guardian of the clan and herd. It was a lofty position amongst the plains people and one that called for respect. She even managed one of the clan's shops in DaleGaurd.

  As a rule, Clara took her traditions very seriously. Taking a child out on his or her first hunt was not just a must, but also one of the sacred acts of her people. It was one of two ceremonies that established a young person as an adult and cultivator of the tribe. The other was the choosing and contracting of a mount or battle beast.

  Rather than think on this or the fact that traditionally it was supposed to be one of his parents leading him on the hunt, Valerian chose to focus instead on the topic of daemons. After all, he would be encountering wild ones today.

  Right then, Gulsalma took off. She did not run, she just leapt into the air and shot up to a height of over a hundred metres. Eyes open wide, Valerian turned from side to side, trying to figure out how this was happening. Soon, he spotted them. Translucent wings were connected to Gulsalma's midriff. They were not natural or real, so he rightly guessed that they were a skill or spell of some sort. They did not beat or flap but stayed outstretched, somehow keeping them aloft.

  Valerian could only stare in amazement as the ephemeral limbs carried them closer and closer to the city walls with each second. Soon it became apparent that they were not headed for the main Eastern gate but the Northern one.

  DaleGuard was a city with a combined area of some hundred square kilometres. It was buil
t in the form of a pentagon, only, one side was much longer than the other. This extra-long side was the Eastern one facing the Pronged Gap. However, they were not headed that way but instead towards the north which was closer to their destination.

  One interesting defensive feature of the city was its wards. No one could just fly into the city as they pleased. The wards covered the entire city; walls, sky and ground. Remember, DaleGuard was a military installation and the fact that it had become the administrative capital of the viscounty made it even more important.

  The only true openings in the wards were the gates and even they could be closed faster than you could blink if they needed to be. This greatly increased security and allowed for entry and exit to be monitored and controlled. No beasts or cultivators could go over the walls or fly in. Flying daemons and their riders had only one way in or out and that was the landing platforms. Right over every gate was a giant platform where anyone who was flying had to stop.

  That was where they were headed now. It only took a few minutes and once they were there, they got onto the platform and walked in between the guard towers and over the wall walk to the platform on the other side. Each platform was an outward extension of the city walls. They were a hundred metres wide and a hundred and fifty long making it easier for people to come and go.

  Soon they were off and for the first time, Valerian could see the world for what it was. Vast acres of grassland stretched into the distance, only interspersed with scattered strands and groves of trees. He could hear the squawking of birds and from a distance, his remarkable eyesight caught a herd of antelope grazing not too far from the city walls and the mountains.

  They were headed for the Rhas Mountain Range, a place that might as well have been the imperial palace given how unreachable it had been for him. Looking at it now, Valerian felt the wait was worth it. The rocky giants rose from the ground like earthen spikes to stab at the heavens. Clouds swirled around their peak and Valerian could swear he saw a draconic form lumber into a cave. All in all, it was a magical sight.

  The Rhas mountain range was the second largest in Cragsveil. The first was the Grand Boundary on the other side of the viscounty. Both formed the borders of the viscounty and the Kingdom of Bathar. The former stretched past the Viscounty of Cragsveil to make up the majority of the northern border shared with their enemies the Wherry Kingdom, and the latter was an even more massive mountain range that formed the entirety of Bathar's Eastern border.

  They were also the reason for the viscounty's unique name. Cragsveil was a low lying grassland lined or veiled by two massive mountain ranges. They were impressive sights that could be seen from any place in the land. In the mornings, when the sun rose and its beams struck the mist that sometimes shrouded them, they lit in beautiful displays that enthralled all watchers.

  It was the first time Valerian saw a mountain close up. If you could call it that. For a time, he was confused. Within the space of three hours, the formerly distant range was looming over him. Now he could not hold more than one of the earthen forms in his sight. Just how fast had they been going? They must have covered at least four dozen kilometres without him noticing.

  It was as if he did not even register their speed. None of the things he associated with high speeds like the wind rushing against his face or the roar that came with parting the air had taken place. They just moved through the air languidly. Clearly, his grandmother had something to do with that. He did rather enjoy the landscape rushing by though. It was beyond exciting.

  Sadly, soon they were at the foot of the mountain. Gulsalma slowed down, dropping slowly in altitude until they were skimming the tops of the meter tall grass. It took a few seconds before Valerian realised that they were headed for a small glade.

  “From here on, we'll walk!” his grandmother told him.

  NINETEEN

  Hunting with Grandmother

  THEY STOOD IN THE GLADE; a young nervous boy, his grandmother and an overly large leopard. The last was crouched, somehow managing to lessen its presence in the tall grass. As for the old woman and her grandson they had no such innate gifts. She held his hand and pulled him even deeper into the wilderness.

  “The hunt is a sacred thing”, she told Valerian. “It is not just about finding some beast to kill. It is an enactment of one of the most basic of life's mysteries. It is the original work that is done to nourish the self. It is the thing that reminds us that we are still beasts needing to feed off the land and that what we take is life. Hunters are not just killers. They are harvesters, coming not just for meat but also scouring the land for herbs and other precious resources that their family or clan may need. It is an act of unimaginable significance. One you may not understand until you have attained a certain comprehension of the mysteries of heaven and earth. Just know that you must respect the world that provides for you and remember your place in it. You sustain yourself with the lives of other creatures which is not something to take lightly.

  “In fact, there is an ancient litany that we plains folk keep”, she revealed. “In recent times fewer people remember or observe it. But people like me, true hunters, the kind I want you to be, do not forget. It goes as follows;

  We are hunters of the plains, children of heaven and earth.

  We respect their ways, we keep our oaths, we observe our duties,

  We respect, obey and guard the numen,

  We respect and perpetuate the cycle of life and death,

  We are hunters, gatherers, harvesters of nature's bounty,

  We take only that which we and ours need,

  We remember that we are beasts and that we too are meat,

  We accept that as we hunt, we too are hunted,

  When it turns out well we return, having gotten prey,

  Besides the hunt, we kill only those who seek to kill us,

  We do not hunt our guardian's kin,

  We do not hunt with plague or spreading poison,

  We do not hunt those in the three acts of life,

  We do not hunt the sacred beasts,

  We do not take all, we leave enough to foster new growth,

  We do not cull a kind,

  We are hunters, not carrion seekers,

  We hunt those with perverse thirst for our kind,

  We hunt those who would take our grounds,

  We may hunt but not eat our kind...

  Valerian listened as his grandmother spoke softly. Her tone was solemn and on her face was a look of pride. He made sure to commit what was said to memory and was glad for that because right afterwards she asked him.

  “Can you repeat it?” She inquired. Valerian nodded. But to make sure, she had him do so right away. Besides a few words which she corrected, he was able to recite it correctly from memory. She smiled in pride.

  “In the past, you would have been given this litany on some parchment or taught it directly. You would never have qualified for your hunt without first memorising it. I knew that was unnecessary in your case. However, as you well know, memorization is different from understanding. I will do my best to communicate to you the meaning behind that chant”, she said whilst pulling a fallen leaf from his long dark hair.

  That said, Valerian's grandmother begun to lead him through the forest more earnestly. Taking the time, she pointed out whatever crossed her mind, such as animal tracks, plant species and the things he should do and be able to do with them. She spent a full hour leading him through the brush trying to get him acquainted with wilderness.

  How to move without leaving needless traces, how to decipher traces of animals in the underbrush and tell which animal the tracks were from. It was a teaching and learning experience for both of them. For nearly five hours, the two went about in this fashion. Gulsalma had long since wandered off leaving them to roam the mountainside aimlessly led only by their fancies.

  It was the most interesting lesson Valerian had ever had. With his grandfather, all he did was sit and listen, making note of anything he wanted to ask about l
ater. If he was lucky there would be some assigned reading for him to continue with once lessons ended.

  With Jonas, he spent his time in almost the same way. He sat cross-legged on the floor and was drilled on arcane lore, but he supposed that was because they had not begun practical lessons yet. That should change now.

  As for training with Richard, it was the only active one among them. Every day began with extensive exercises and combat drills. These would leave him battered, tired out and yet strangely satisfied by the end.

  This was totally different from what he expected. For one thing, he had not expected a lesson. Then, there was the fact that everything was so relaxed. They just walked around with her pointing out things that caught her interest and him asking questions on the same.

  It was fun and educative. He was not listening to a lecture or answering questions, nor was he following explicit directions. They were under the sun, walking freely, taking in the landscape and the things in it, having a pleasant discussion. It was a weird freedom but Valerian liked it. The feeling of not being restrained was somewhat intoxicating for a manor brat like himself.

  Regrettably, at one point his grandmother looked up at the sky and told him that their leisure was over.

  “The sun is pretty high in the sky”, she revealed. “It will be noon in an hour or two, its best we get on with what we came here for”.

  For all his comportment, Valerian was unable to keep his disappointment from showing on his face. He did not want this to end nor did he appreciate being reminded of what was expected of him today. His grandmother looked at him and laughed, drawing him closer.

  “Don't worry so much. Besides, this will not be our only hunt. It is merely the first lesson. I can't teach you everything in one day, can I?” she asked him.

  Hope shone on his face but all she did was smile, revealing her dazzling and somewhat pointy teeth.