30 Hunting the Hunter

Jacob walked the stretch of road, ignoring the blistering heat. The summer sun was hanging overhead, scorching the dirt road. The only traveler, Jacob had only the occasional hare to complain to. They weren't all that good listeners.

His sword was tied to his back, the bouncing action of it being on his hip had ground his gears for a few weeks before he made the switch. If a bandit or something else attacked him, he could deal with it with his earth magic. Though he hadn't spent much time in the months between the ordeal in the streets of Steelshade practicing his magic, the few times he managed to slip out of the guardhouse in the early morning were enough for him to get a feel for earth magic. He was still more comfortable with wind magic, the molecules much more responsive.

He strummed his lute as he went, playing some newer songs he had picked up from his outings with the other members of the guard who had the same shift as him. The act broke up the monotony and helped him forget about his grumbling stomach. "I really should have listened to Edward when he told me to pack more food," he murmured.

It had been difficult, convincing Lieutenant Edward and the captain that he needed this leave of duty. City guardsmen didn't really get much in the way of vacation time, and certainly not the multiple months Jacob needed to get to Leafburrow by foot. Only through a wager had he managed it. On the one hand, his vacation. On the other, becoming Edward's personal attendant on a reduced salary for a year. Edward, still confident in his ability to best Jacob in a duel, challenged him in front of all the guardsmen.

Jacob, needless to say, had won. With the ungodly hours he put in after dark and before the sun rose, he'd have been disappointed if he had lost. Edward reluctantly acknowledged his defeat, granting Jacob his vacation. That defeat also gave Jacob the confidence he needed to face the bandits.

While he couldn't face down dozens of them at a time, if he fought guerilla warfare, he would stand a chance. His chest burned with anger and excitement, the cocktail growing ever more complicated as he approached the burnt-down husk of Leafburrow.

The bodies of people he had known in passing lined the streets, barely recognizable now. The stench of death was largely gone from the ghost town, though macabre reminders of the atrocity that occurred lay everywhere.

His blood boiled as he searched for any clues of the bandits' passing. The readheaded bandit with the single eye would meet his end, or Jacob would die trying. Before long, he found a faint trail left by a wagon. Fortunately, it didn't rain much, and it wasn't impossible to make out. Enough of it was visible for Jacob to follow it into the forest surrounding the clearing Leafburrow sat in. Once he was in the forest, the track mattered far less; there was only one path through the trees through which a wagon could fit. Jacob was exultant with his good fortune.

And then he found the wagon at the end of the path. The trees were clumped together too tightly to bring the wagon through them, so the unwieldy thing was left behind. Carrying their loot by hand, the bandits must've crossed through here, though deciding which direction their camp lay was beyond difficult.

Jacob crawled around, inspecting the dense foilage at his feet. The green grass and plants made the forest floor a carpet, though there were a few dents in the foilage where something heavy – like a man with a sack of metal – must have stepped. Taking his chances, Jacob started to wander through the forest in an easterly direction, following the dent.

He thought he was hearing things after his long solitude, but that was not the case. The sound of men and horses was drawing nearer, breaking up the monotony of the bird calls. Jacob crept through the woods silently, careful not to bring attention to his presence. There was a lightening up ahead, indicated a break in the canopy and the presence of a clearing. Whoever these people were, that's where he'd find them.

Jacob poked his head out from behind a tree. A small village consisting of colorfully dressed people stood in the center of the tiny clearing. They all wore armor, though it was all leather because only fools and the determined would wear anything as taxing as chain or plate armor regularly. It was suspicious though, that these people were so militaristic and ready to fight such that they were constantly armored.

Watching the scene, Jacob felt like one of the officers in one of those old cop shows. It was a stake-out. It was only when a bulky, redheaded man with an eyepatch made his appearance that Jacob was sure that he had found his targets. Though these people seemed jovial now, Jacob remembered clearly their merriment when they killed Leafburrow's people, pillaging the town for all it was worth. He remembered it all.

A man left the village with a bow and a bag, sent out to hunt for game, most likely. Jacob decided to follow the man. As it turned out, though these people were detestable, they had a robust system of traps and grazing locations. The hunter was the peak of efficiency, impressing Jacob with his skill. A single arrow was all it took to take any animal down. That wasn't enough to stop Jacob.

He rushed out from behind the hunter, the man turning abruptly with an arrow nocked. "I've been wondering when you'd come out. This is where our little game ends," the bandit smiled as he released the arrow.

It was centered right on Jacob, and there was no way he could dodge it. Instead, he used a fistful of air to knock the arrow aside, running at the bewildered man. "A mage?" the brigand sputtered out before collapsing to the ground, never to wake again.

"It has begun."