Hunter of the Moon -- Ch. 1

Santuni
Prologue

         Like a marine honor guard, the sleek, sun painted dolphins flanked the black longboat, chatting amiably with the captain, a lanky elf lounging in the bow. No, they told him, no ships had passed within a week, and none were nearer than the small northern island of Redrock. The elf passed a small smile to his first mate, a black skinned Dracorian woman seated in the stern, who fingered the mother-of-pearl hilt on her cutlass.

         The longboat nosed into shallow water, the dolphins peeling off and gliding back out to sea, their butter colored backs arcing above the waves. The oarsmen leaped out, splashing through the thigh-high water and drawing the boat up onto the beach. His violet eyes squinted against the glare of the white sand, the elf stepped from the bow to the shore, the stiff eastern wind whipping his long silver hair out behind him. He waited for the woman and helped her from the boat, though it was obvious that she chose his help, rather than needed it.

         While the oarsmen waited by the boat, the captain and first mate strolled down the beach. Her deep blue, gold-flecked eyes scanned the rolling dunes as one hand rested on her weapon. The elf though, gazed out to sea, watching the dolphins leap and play around his ship, his crew gathered at the rails and up in the rigging. With a sigh, he turned to his drac first mate.

         “Take the ship to the far side of Nakiti Island,” he said, brushing a stray wisp of hair from his face. “Have the men gather supplies, enough for a month, at least. Try not to be spotted, but if you are,” he gave her a grim look, “you know what to do.”

         “Yes, my captain,” she said, her voice deep and resounding, like most dracs.

         “Meet me here in one week, then all of this,” he patted the small leather satchel hanging at his side, “will be over.” He smiled, then leaned in and planted a kiss on her midnight black cheek. “Take care, Lasik, and don’t work my men too hard.” He set his jaw and marched for the dunes, away from the sounds and scents of the ocean, his home for so long.

         Lasik watched him go, her unblinking blue and gold eyes never leaving him until he disappeared over the dunes, then she turned and motioned for the oarsmen to head for the ship. With a sharp salute to the new acting captain, they shoved off and rowed hard. The drac squatted in the sand, digging her hand deep into the white powder and letting it slide between her fingers.

         Rising in one swift motion, she dusted her hand off on her tan buckskin pants and reached up to touch the pendant hanging on a silver chain at her throat. With a thought, she shifted to her dragon form, her clothes forming into burgundy, tan and teal scales, her wings bursting from her back to catch the glorious rays of the sun, her weak hands becoming sharp and powerful talons. Throwing back her head, she roared a final farewell to her captain, then launched herself into the air, strong wingbeats carrying her over the waves to her waiting ship.

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Nafiran Ko
Chapter One

         “Wake up, Kadel, you useless Marh’,” Landi screeched from the doorway of the upper floor. Kadel groaned and tucked his head further under his wing, but there was no ignoring her shrill voice. “I’m hungry and there’s nothing to eat. Get up!” Tail twitching in irritation, Kadel stood and stretched, his beak split by a huge yawn.

         “Don’t speak to me in such a manner, Landi,” he said, narrowing his eyes at his female. “I am your Marh’ and the lord of this house--”

         “Then act like it and get me some food!” she shrieked. Kadel opened his beak to reprimand her, but she left the hole in the floor and he heard her stalk around the circular room, then cross to the center and sharpen her claws on the tree trunk that the house was built around.

         “What would you and Arli like?” Kadel asked, trying to control his frustration.

         “Arli’s not here,” Landi called in a snide tone. “Again. While you’re looking for her, get me some rabbits, nice young ones.”

         “Sake, not again,” Kadel said, shaking his head. What had he done to deserve such females? “Well, tidy my nest while I’m gone, will you?” Footsteps above and Landi’s ebony feathered head poked through the door in the floor, her ears flat against her skull.

         “You slept in it, you can tidy it,” she said, challenging him with her cold golden stare. Kadel’s masculine pride demanded that he not let a silly female, a spoiled warrior’s daughter, get away with such an insult, but she had the warrior’s build; her skull thick, her beak and claws heavy, her back protected by bony spikes, and although he was a pureblood hunter of eight generations, she was larger and stronger than him.

         “Just do something,” he said, turning his back on her and pacing to the door. Kadel dropped through the opening and landed on the platform underneath, similar to a porch in terrestrial dwellings. The slight sway of his tree eased his frazzled nerves, the clear green-gold light of a summer dawn hanging between the thick, red barked trunks. He breathed deep of the fresh, crisp air. What a day to be a Gryphlian.

         Stepping off the platform, Kadel spread his wings, gliding to the forest floor in lazy spirals. The thick carpet of golden needles crackled as he landed and dropped into a crouch, furling his wings and surveying the area. Few creatures dared hunt a gryph, fewer still that would tackle a young, healthy male, but one could never be too careful. The mist lay undisturbed between the spreading trunks of Emh’ilia-shilh’, the small gryph settlement just beginning to wake around him.

         Emh’asu was already down at the river, standing ankle deep in the cold water, his eyes closed as he performed the morning cleansing ritual. Kadel shuddered at the thought of having wet paws so often and thanked Embrh’an that he had not been born a priest. Though being a hunter was not as spiritual or insightful, it was a lot dryer and certainly more interesting.

         With a sigh, he lowered his beak to the ground and sniffed the damp needles, trying to catch Arli’s scent. It was there, and not two hours old. His sense of smell didn’t compare to his keen eyesight, but it would do to hunt down his wayward female. What he would do once he found her, though, that was the quandary.

         “Anah’an, Kadel,” TutI called, dropping out of the sky and stirring up the needle carpet with his flapping wings. Kadel made an informal bow, dipping his head and tucking up his right forepaw.

         “Anah’an, Radakan TutI,” Kadel said, using the young gryph’s title just to annoy him. TutI nodded, letting Kadel relax, then swatted him on the shoulder, a token gesture only, as his long, narrow paw, meant for holding quill and herb, carried little muscle behind it. The lean and angular two year old mage stood half a head shorter than Kadel, and most of that height came in leg and paw.

         “That’s not as bad as my full name, but almost,” he said, lashing his tail. The mage caste was the smallest and most delicate, but what they lacked in size they made up for in dexterity and intelligence.

         “What, you don’t like TutI-ni-rentor-kalh’i?” Kadel asked, stepping aside as TutI took another swipe at him. “Wings of brave magic, it has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

         “What was my father thinking?” TutI moaned, pretending to bury his head under his wing. “As if I’ll ever like up to that. My teacher says I’ll never master even simple spells, with all the mistakes I make.” He sat down and preened his breast feathers for a moment, then looked up at Kadel. “Of course, you should talk, Kadel-ni-ky-lasani.”

         “Hunter of the moon,” he said with a dry chuckle. “It’s these feathers that did that, you know, all tipped with silver. I look like I’m always chasing moonlight.”

         “Chasing Arli is more like it. She gone again?” TutI asked, but it wasn’t really a question. Everyone knew he had no control over his vethra, but it wasn’t easy to rule a harem, as TutI would one day find out.

         “Yeah, she’s gone again,” Kadel said, looking away into the trees. “You seen any rabbits lately? Landi wants some.”

         “Try over by the Mirrawood. I heard her cawing at you this morning,” TutI said, flicking his ears back. “That female could screech a troll to death. You should trade her in on a harpy, I hear they’re quieter.”

         “Probably bite less, too,” Kadel said, drawing a chuckle from TutI as he limped about, pretending to have an injured forepaw. “Thanks, TutI, I’ll see you later.”

         “Any time, neighbor,” TutI said, standing and stretching, his claws coming out to knead the ground. “Hey, Kadel,” he called as Kadel turned to go, “if you want, I could smack some respect into those vethra of yours.” Kadel gave an embarrassed chuckle.

         “They’d eat you alive, kid,” he said. “They’re like sharks.” Truth was, TutI could probably handle them better than he was. Kadel headed for the river to slake his thirst, surprised to find Emh’asu still wet to the ankles.

         “Anah’an, Banir Emh’asu,” Kadel said, proffering a formal bow to the much respected priest. The elder gryph nodded to Kadel, then closed his eyes and turned his sleek black head into the rising sun. Kadel dipped water from the river and let it run down his throat, watching the priest and wondering what it was that he heard in the dawn born breeze. Pricking his ears forward, Kadel listened, hearing the rush of the river, the whisper of the wind high in the tree tops, the soft murmur of a dozen conversations scattered about the village, and a burst of lively chatter as a flock of gryphlets zipped by.

         Some of the jewel bright, many colored gryphlets belonged to people in the village, even Landi had one, a vicious and short tempered little beast, just like her master, but most were wild, flitting here and there, begging treats shamelessly from anyone. Kadel longed for one of his own, a happy, friendly soul to come home to, one that would listen and not shame him.

         “You bear a heavy burden, Banir Kadel,” Emh’asu said. He always insisted on using titles, even though they were the same rank. Kadel looked over at the priest and sighed.

         “You heard that Arli’s run off again, I suppose,” he said. Emh’asu nodded. “I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want them to fear or hate me, I don’t want to beat them. That’s not respect.” He rattled his wings in irritation. “My father never had this kind of trouble with his vethra.”

         “He did when he was your age,” Emh’asu said, wading to the riverbank. He shook each paw before setting it on land. “His females were always running away or causing some sort of havoc.”

         “What did he do to fix it?” Kadel asked.

         “He killed a drac,” Emh’asu said, laying back his ears as he spoke the name of their ancient enemy.

         “I never knew that,” Kadel said, wondering why his father had never spoken of it. Killing a drac was a feat to be honored in song.

         “Apparently, it was a rather disappointing experience. The drac,” ears back again, “didn’t put up much of a fight. It was enough to impress his vethra, though.”

         “So, I must kill a drac,” Kadel said. It was impossible not to lay your ears back when speaking that name, so vile and villainous were the species. Still, Kadel didn’t relish the thought of going looking for such trouble.

         “They are few and far between, luckily,” said Emh’asu. “You are a hunter, hunt something grand. Bring home a kill to sing about. Then the females will respect you. I heard tell of an elk the other day, a bull that has been killing the Mirrawood wolves. They said his antlers bore nine points and were as wide as a gryph is long.” Emh’asu turned and headed back into the village.

         “Thank you, Banir Emh’asu,” Kadel said, then dipped up another beakful of water. He too had heard of the giant black bull roaming the Mirrawood, but a monster like that was beyond his ability to bring down. Still, if it would earn him respect, he ought to try. His tail slung low, he turned his steps downriver, still heavy at heart, but not unable to enjoy the thin shafts of sunlight cutting between the trees and glittering on the clear water. Every now and again, a fat silver fish flashed through the light and then disappeared into morning shadow.

         “Sake, missed again!” Kadel looked up to see his best friend, Kasila, balanced on a narrow log that hung out over the water. Kasila dangled one damp paw over the river, his round golden eyes fixed on a long, sleek fish cruising just below the surface. He tensed, his claws extending, arming him with five vicious hooks, and struck, splashing crystal droplets up onto his shaggy black chest feathers. Of all the gryphs Kadel knew, he had the purest, blackest plumage and fur, of which he was acutely aware. Kasila shook the water off his paw and heaved a disdainful sigh in the direction of the escaped fish.

         “Has Ashnih’ not been in you favor, Kasila?” Kadel called, catching his friend by surprise. Kasila’s wings shot out to steady himself as he wobbled and his claws dug into the log.

         “That wasn’t funny, Kadel. I almost fell in,” Kasila said when he regained his balance. He walked to the end of the log and looked down at the deep, clear water, then leaped toward the shore, gliding to Kadel’s side with only minor wingbeats. “And no, the great fish has not favored me with any of her kindred.” He looked at the river with great longing, just as a monster of a silverside leaped half out of the water to snap at a passing fly. “Oh, I want that fish!” he said, stamping his paws in frustration.

         “Kasila, have you seen Arli this morning?” Kadel asked, deciding to get right to the point. The unlucky fisherman turned his back on the water and sat with his wings partly raised to block out the view.

         “Arli? Well, I might have seen her about an hour ago. It was too dark to tell, really.” He looked uncomfortable. “I would have told you, if I had been sure.”

         “Where did you see her?” Kadel asked. Kasila wouldn’t lie to him, no gryph ever lied, not if they wanted to reach Idh’an Karel, and Kasila wanted it as much as anyone. Being Banir, they both had a lot of work to do if they were to get there in less than four lives.

         “North end of the Mirrawood, I think. I was hunting those black mice that Ilh’ar loves so much.”

         “Speaking of your vethra, how do you make them listen to you?” Kasila cocked his head to one side and thought about it for a moment.

         “I bring them things,” he said at last. “Ilh’ar likes mice, Kyala likes fish, and Dh’ane likes those shiny stones you find in the back of Genek Cave.”

         “That’s it?” Kadel asked, feeling like that was too simple of an answer. Kasila nodded, then looked under one wing at his foe.

         “Speaking of fish...” he said, and stalked toward the river. Shaking his head, Kadel let him go and continued on his way. Funny, how every road pointed him to the same place. Surely, the goddess Jz’ira had a paw in this, but to what end, only she knew. She could be benevolent when the mood struck her, but she could also be just as fickle. Still, Embrh’an didn’t choose her as a mate without reason. The Mirrawood it would be, then, though to be honest, he would rather have gone anywhere else.