13; The Last Hunt

The forest was eerily silent as Aster stalked through its massive shrubs and tall trees. Above him, the deep gray clouds covered the sun halfway to its mark, while below, the surrounding foliage hung heavy from every bark he could set his eyes upon. Even with his heightened senses, Aster heard none of the birds' chirrups or the insects' incessant sounds. But then, he wouldn't have let anything unnerve him, not when he was surrounded by a sea of green known to conceal its sharp claws.

Looking around, he was only met with a strange silence and spreading stillness. Today would mark his last hunt through these woods, and if it wasn't obvious from the intense look on his face, he was very eager. His latest prey had proven to be very elusive, as he had spent days searching for it until his senses finally caught its traces. The Endless Glades might have felt boundless to him, but he soon learned that most beasts had familiar grounds where they searched for food or prey. Lucky for him, this one had proven to be just the same, as the path Aster had taken became more familiar to him as time went on. His reborn heart beat with anticipation, his face cracking into a predatory smile. There was a history between them—a debt yet to be paid. Now, after all this time, he had finally come to collect it.

His bare legs lightly stepped into a small clearing, his tattered robe slightly brushing against his shins. His improved senses were spread wide, and his eyes quickly took a look at the tall tree hovering over him, its trunk swallowed by a canopy of leaves. Its lesser brethren branched out in different directions, seemingly strangling the little space left available between them. Roots and wild grass threaded the loamy soil, and it wasn't until he dared to walk through it that he heard a slight creak over him. His head immediately snapped above in response.

"There you are." He whispered.

That was all he got to say before the concealed creature overhead him, one that was camouflaged so well that it looked more like thickened bark enlivened with moss on its back, than a dreadful beast abruptly lunged downwards towards him, its claws and mandibles gaining on him with terrifying speeds.

"BOOM"

A crash reverberated throughout the forest, shattering its fake veneer of tranquility. But Aster was nowhere near the place, as he had swiftly rolled away just as quickly, the beast's dive missing him by a few hairs. Mud, grass, and roots exploded from his previous spot. He didn't let it phase him, though, as he rapidly got to his feet, his eyes narrowing on the beast that had evaded his senses for quite a while.

With the dirt settling down, the boy immediately knew his simple spells would not work this time. The insectoid creature had just realized it had missed its prey with its ambush, and so as it clattered around to search for him, Aster got a full view of it compared to last time. He had only gotten a glimpse of it almost two years ago when he had been forced to lure the hunters after him to its spot, but he could already tell the creature—or, as his master had called it, the chitterer—had prospered during the time. Its dark brown chitin had gotten larger and darker, almost matching the bark of the tree it had hidden upon, and its size had increased, both in girth and length, such that Aster found himself staring up at a behemoth that had more than half his height over him. A short lull passed between them as the familiar chittering sound from its segmented end filled the air with tension, until they both exploded into action, the boy and the beast lunging towards each other across the small field between them.

With his legs agile and quick, Aster converged on the snarling beast. They were just about to collide, the beast's clacking mandibles less than a foot away from his face, when he quickly pumped his legs and soared above, the creature's stampede rushing beneath him like a wave of buckling chariot. From the moment he laid his eyes on it, he already had his mana ready. And so, with a simple gesture, his mana rushed out of him in a deluge of glittering blood, a far cry from his previous self as it swirled around him in a nimbus of shimmering red, which he quickly brought under his will with a simple arcane spell.

 "Blood Spikes"

Barely a second later, the glowing cloud of mana abruptly condensed into several gleaming shards of blood. His body still arcing over the creature, Aster flicked his hand, and the sharpened crimson blades fell upon the creature, akin to a shower of crystals. Just as he had presumed, his spell helplessly shattered on the insect's hard cover, but on closer look, a few of his shards had found purchase in the minute joints of the creature's several jointed legs. With the chitterer under him possessing 8 segmented legs, 4 on each side, it roared in pain as the pair at the front and another leg in its behind were pierced by the shards. The sudden agony distracted it enough that it crashed into one of the several trees surrounding the small field, now turned into a battlefield. Aster softly landed on the other side, his left hand now holding an elaborately carved staff, while his mind came up with several plans on how to defeat the foe before him. He had to kill it all by himself in order to prove his mettle to his master, who was no doubt somehow watching him from the safety of his golden tree. He wolfishly smiled at the thought.

Across the field, the trees had shattered under the weight of the creature's rush, effectively halting its momentum. When it could finally collect its senses, it shrieked in rage as the small chunks of hardened blood bore into its joints. The pain made it almost feral; its nascent intelligence quickly made it turn towards the prey that had dared to injure its body. Only when it finally wheeled around was a huge blood-red mace already on its way with the swiftness of the wind.

 "CRACK"

The mace wielded by the adolescent youth landed squarely on its head with the momentum of a rushing cart. Aster had barely condensed the mass of blood on top of his staff when the construct burst into pieces the moment it unloaded its strength onto the creature. The chitterer, once driven by rage, could only be stunned by such a blow, and the boy, taking advantage of the creature's dazed state, quickly recollected the blood he had previously summoned as a spiked club into a sharp, elongated blade, one that jutted out of his staff, transforming it into a crimson glaive.

Quickly stepping backwards as he finished condensing his intent into the form of weapon he wanted, he wielded his staff like a bladed spear and then continued to gracefully flit around the creature, seemingly dancing as he evaded its various attempts to stomp him or even gore him with its claw despite its muddled state. The boy took it all in stride, all of his fear and apprehension locked somewhere deep in his mind as he knew it only took a single mistake for him to get injured, despite the astounding regeneration he now possessed ever since he awakened from the ascendant ritual.

The beast, now helpless, could only struggle in rage as its prey danced and weaved around it like wind, its sharp weapon somehow finding purchase on several joints of its legs, weakening them. If one slash was not enough, then another soon followed, such that the insect's ichor soon filled the small field they were in, its sickly green lifeblood spilling all over the grass and trees, spurting from the stumps where its legs once stood.

When the creature's struggle finally ceased and it was clear its movement was impaired, the boy jumped on top of it, its mandibles fruitlessly struggling to tear him into two. He looked at the creature's face below and sighed.

"Normally, I wouldn't have bothered doing this, but soon I will lose all chances to try it out." He patted the squirming creature. "You have been a hard beast to find, so you might as well be my first test for today."

Taking a strong stand on top of the flailing creature, Aster breathed deeply before he thrust his hand and then delved deeply into his newborn affinity. Even after all these years, he was still parsing the life-altering changes he had undergone through the ascendant ritual. At the moment, he was about to try one of his rarer abilities, one his master had reasoned he possessed and encouraged him to explore before their eventual journey out of the endless glades.

For more than a few seconds, Aster tried to stretch his affinity, but to no avail. Maybe because the creature underneath him was of a different type, but when he tried to tune to its body and its lifeblood, a sudden smell of deep rot and decaying leaves exploded into his senses. The smell—the taint—was so strong that he couldn't help but shiver, subconsciously recoiling to prevent it from taking a trench inside of him. But then he knew that if he ever wanted to wield his blood affinity, and ultimately his lifeblood connection, he had no choice but to get hold of it and then subject it to his will.

And so, in a rush to try to get over it as fast as he could, he willed his affinity to take hold of the transient connection he felt with the creature's lifeblood before tugging on it with as much mental strength as possible. Underneath, he felt the insect creature struggle with all of its strength, instinctively fighting against his pull until it abruptly stilled before deflating like a ceremonial balloon, its ichor exploding out of every nook and cranny in a shower of guts and chitin. The chitterer's revolting green lifeblood oozed out of it, its unwilling wail dissipating into silence, and its body sagging like its strings got cut.

Aster didn't care for any of it, as for once in his life, a savage pleasure coursed through him. He felt like standing on the mountains and proclaiming his achievement for the whole world to see. This was power, he thought—power to put him among the elites, power to push his will over his enemies, power...he could barely control with his current strength. At first, he wobbled on his feet until he inevitably fell to the ground once his body's exhaustion made itself known. Laying on the ground, he let himself take a deep breath as the heady sensation slowly fizzled out to a satisfied smirk. He had finally done it. He had accomplished what was the last hurdle his master had set him out to do. And now that he was assured there would be nothing more to stop them from leaving this place, a small part of him strangely felt sad that he would be leaving all of this behind.

For the past two years, this forest has been his home. Within it, he had found life and opportunity, but most of all, growth. But he had to admit that despite everything, despite the fact that he had come to love the challenges the forest offered him, living alone under the darkened shadows of leavened trees can get quite lonely, especially when the only soul he could talk to was a powerful ancient one split with madness. His master Eiseldawn did not share his frustrations, and the fact that there was an undeniable age gap between them meant that their relationship could not be more than a master and a disciple, a truth Aster took a long time to understand.

Unheeding the danger, Aster laid on the ground and let everything fade away. He knew he was relatively safe from his burgeoning senses, an aptitude his master now called his sphere of perception. Even now, he could still remember the day he awoke from the ascendant ritual as if it were just yesterday. The confusion and the fading pain, but more the feeling of change and wonderment. He was changed from the inside out, and even after all this time, he was still struggling with the changes—changes that he now had to live with for many years to come, if he lived that long.

While a lot of things were drastically changed about him, the ones he struggled the most with were the changes to his body and his affinity. His master had told him he was essentially reborn anew as the Ascendant Ritual sought to not only deepen one's potential but also to perfect it, as much as its strength had been weakened for him. When he finally looked at himself on the surface of the lake, he was astounded. Where there was once a weak boy, with short dark hair and darker glimmering eyes, now stood someone completely transformed, someone taller with eyes that shone with shifting colors along with long hair that flowed to his back, dark haired at the roots before fading to blood red at the tips. While body changes were expected, what Aster had undergone was something that should not have been possible until his master proposed that the traits he now possessed were most probably influenced by his newly borne affinity, one his mother wielded right before her demise.

His blood affinity.

On the surface, it was very clear where he might have obtained his new affinity. How he had obtained it, on the other hand, was a question even his master could not answer. He had repeatedly emphasized to him that a mage could only naturally possess a single affinity in their body. It was a simple truth known by almost every mage, witch, or herald, as he had come to learn. But his existence disapproved of the well-known notion, and so, while he would have loved to chuck all of these questions brewing inside of him at the one responsible, his mother's last fight was all but burned into his mind. A familiar pain twitched inside of him, and he allowed himself to wallow in it for a while before shuttling it away to the deepest reach of his mind. The feelings he felt—rage, pain, and loss—still simmered in his heart. One day he would be strong enough to seek retribution, he told himself. For now, he would bask in his victory against the creature that had terrorized his dreams for quite a while.

Taking another breath, Aster rose from the ground, taking in everything around him. The small clearing was in shambles, the nearby shrubbery torn from the ground, and the neighboring trees cracked and split in several places. Exasperated, he hurried to cover the damning scene to the best of his abilities. While not many creatures could now stalk him thanks to his 'sphere of perception', there were still a few rare ones who could slip through his senses and catch him unaware. Another lesson he had learned the hard way during his early forays into the forest was that he was nearly eaten alive by the silent stalker, a beast of lean proportions with padded hands and feet sinuated with sharp claws. He shuddered as he recalled how near to death he had been. He wouldn't dare repeat the same mistake again.

And so motivated by his previous blunders, Aster rushed to clean up the traces of the fight as much as possible. First he dealt with the body, fashioning another blood sword out of his staff before splitting the Chitterer's head from his body, taking it as proof of his successful hunt. Its ichor was everywhere, but Aster, already familiar with the process as he had done it too many times, delved his hand into the creature's innards, seemingly seeking out something until his fingers clasped into a small, hard lump, which he quickly pulled out. A petite dark stone was in his grasp, a core with which the beast had condensed its strength as it grew stronger, feeding on its prey and the ambient mana.

The hierarchy of the creatures prowling the shorelands was very loosely categorized. A newly born creature could be regarded as a wild beast, one that could barely breathe mana and be subtly changed in return. These kinds of beasts were rarely strong, and most only possessed instincts, lacking the true primal intelligence that it took to advance. After that, there are the dire beasts. Here the classification was abroad, but to make it simple, dire beasts can form cores, depending on their nature and affinity, and they can use their burgeoning intelligence to hunt more efficiently. The Chitterer was a good example, as its nature core had influenced the beast to develop chitin that camouflaged it perfectly within the forest. It was here that most beasts struggled to rise, as it might take decades before they are strong enough to evolve into the final threshold, a sacred beast, a beast of such strength that it is famed only the saints themselves defeat. Lucky for most, they are rare, if not downright extinct. When Aster asked if the snake sleeping under the lake was a sacred beast, his master laughed. The snake, despite its size, was still a dire beast, one that was merely halfway to becoming one. And most beasts of such size had to either be patient or risk their lives to find opportunities to advance. Many never make it as their hide, core, blood, and bones are very valuable, so they end up being hunted down by most hunters.

Collecting himself, Aster stored the sickly green core into his obsidian stone before pulling out a shovel. He then proceeded to find a large enough patch where he started digging rapidly, at a pace he was sure none of the mortals could manage. Apparently, the ritual has remade his body into something his master called the flawless body. Which meant his body was so completely burned of impurities and hidden deformities that it was elevated, working on a level that Aster could barely comprehend. To his master, though, that meant harsher training, not to mention how he now possessed profound mana reservoirs that eclipsed his previous body by more than a third. His maddened instinct to pull in all that mana during the ritual had paid off, as his new body had clear, structured, and unobstructed mana pathways that would give him a deeper foundation of magic in ways he was sure even the saints themselves would have scoured his body in order to obtain his secrets.

Groaning at the thought and wondering if his desire to leave the forest was unfounded, Aster instead pushed all of his frustrations into making sure he was as quick as possible. A deep enough pit was soon dug, and the beast shoved into it using everything he had, from his physical strength to manifesting powerful tendrils of blood that pulled it into the ground. When it was finally done, he quickly swept the surface, making sure almost all signs of battle were scrubbed. Satisfied with his work, he took the detailed staff into his hand and then started on a journey towards home, his feet light and quick on a path he must have travelled a thousand times.

Hours later, when the sun was setting and its light was no longer strangled by the heaving spread of trees, he finally arrived. Once he crossed the threshold, the large groove revealed itself, and the meadow looked just like the day he first arrived. The golden tree still stood tall and proud, washing everything within the vicinity with its touch, while the lake on its right was just as still, barely a ripple on its surface. It felt like a lifetime ago when the gargantuan snake had risen to swallow the hunters that were after him. But since then, he had seen neither its hide nor sensed its presence, and the usual terror that had followed him around every time he dared glance at the lake had long disappeared. Looking at the meadow with the flowers that never grow wild and the lack of insects therein, Aster had long realized that all of the strange happenings in the groove were thanks to his master's strange brand of magic. Whatever the light of the golden tree touched meant it was under his domain, and that was the only thing that had offered him safety throughout the past two years under his tutelage.

Walking into the grove both soothed him and made him nervous. As he stepped closer to the tree, he saw his master seated on one of the roots, quietly holding one of the many arcane books he had with him on his lap. At first glance, he looked no different than an elderly person enjoying some reading under the shade of a tree. But looking closer, there was something eerie and other-worldly about him. His attempts to emulate the living had never stopped, and when Aster one day asked about it, his master told him that it was a form of practice for him, a form of preparation. It didn't take long for Aster to learn that his master was always training on every minute of every hour of every day. When he had attempted to calculate that in terms of years he might have been holed up in the forest before his arrival, his mind halted, unable to imagine a solitary life where he spent hundreds of years hanging between life and death as shade, relentlessly training all for a chance to unleash chaos on those who had done him wrong.

On the other hand, when he truly thought about it, he could barely imagine it, as it was this very purpose that had carried him through the grueling regime these past 2 years. He just wasn't sure if he would have lasted as long as him.

Shaking his head, he only got a warning in form of a sudden buzzing before he was forced to leap aside, a lance of golden light spearing through the place he had just stood. Scowling, he quickly stood up, about to open his mouth and let his annoyance be known when more lances of light appeared out of nowhere, and he was forced to dance in between the deadly lights, his pace light and graceful and his new body pliant and willful, contorting in ways his old body would have surely broken were he to attempt it.

'Dance of the Everglow'

He inwardly toned as he shifted fluidly between the repeated castings of the hazardous light. He had tasted their pain one too many times and it took him some effort to make sure they came no closer to touching his skin. Most times, his master's training could be seen as downright barbaric, but when one has an apprentice who possesses an unnatural ability to heal very quickly, a little bit of pain wouldn't hurt to push their limits. At least that's what his master thought. Aster soon learned that he had to master the footwork quickly if he didn't want to be turned into a perforated stone. He had never before cursed his regeneration factor as much as at that time.

"Enough!" he shouted, letting his invigorated mana burst out into a wave of shifting red-purple colors. The lances of light were immediately destroyed, with a few swerved out of the way. His master, who was still nonchalantly perusing his book, only grunted in response.

"I guess I should be satisfied that you still kept up with your practice." He barely uttered.

With his new senses, Aster heard him loud and clear.

"Did I have any choice in the matter?" he fumed. "It was either that or let myself get poked by your lances until my body turned into a hive of honeysuckle bees."

Eiseldawn sardonically smiled. "We both know that wouldn't happen, apprentice. You possess such a convenient trait after all." He shook his head. "You truly have no idea how lucky you were to stumble upon it. Rarely do blood mages possess a trait as strong as yours."

Aster grimaced. "It would have been a boon I would rather not have if I had known I was coming under your instruction in the first place." He retorted before he closed his eyes and breathed, feeling his master's eyes bore into him.

"It would have been better if it had laid dormant if that meant my parents were still alive and well."

"It would have been better if it had laid dormant if that meant my parents were still alive and well." He sighed, "But I would not forget to be grateful. It has saved my life more times than I can count."

His master snorted mirthfully. "As you should." He closed his book and fully focused on him.

"But let's get to what's more important. So, my little apprentice, have you done what i asked of you?"

This time, Aster proudly smiled, his previous annoyance all but forgotten.

"Yes, master," he said with relish as he exerted his intent on the void stone, making a small rotund stone of sickly green color appear on his hand along with the head of the chitterer on the ground, its ooze spilling all over the grassed ground.

His master willed the core into his grasp and stared at it.

"A burgeoning dire beast on its way to nearly finishing its strengthening. A normal mage of the third order or a talented one in the second order would have been enough to seal its fate."

He stared at the rotting head on the ground with a tired smile.

"I'm truly proud of you, my apprentice. Your growth once again astounds me in ways I would have never imagined."

Aster's heart burned with pride, but he hadn't forgotten the reason why he had gone through all this trouble.

"So will you keep your word, master?" he calmly asked while his heart beat with excitement.

A lull of silence passed between them, with Aster growing more and more nervous until the tension was cut through with a single question.

"Are you sure about this, Aster?" his master said gently. "You could be safe here, train for a few more years until you gain the strength to overcome your foes. There is so much to learn and so many things you still have to master. I could hold you here against your will, but that would defeat the purpose of our oath." He grew quiet as he watched. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"

Aster again felt like he was on the precipice of something. Throughout the years he had come to recognize them, these significant moments his master called them, where a choice was given and it was all up to him to figure out what was best for him. Eiseldawn viewed these choices as sacrosanct, and despite his eccentric nature and his harsh, grueling training, this was what made Aster both revere and hate the man whom he called master. He revered him because instead of lording his endless wisdom and strength over him, he instead only gave him advice and let him choose for himself. But he also hated this aspect for him because, while his master would allow him to choose, he would never tell him if the choice he made was the right one or not until it surely led to a dire consequence that he would warn him of. And this was the thing that Aster learned quickly, ever since the ascendant ritual nearly killed him. He had gained so much, but the physical price he had to pay was something he might have never tried had he known about it.

Reeling back his mind to the question his master asked, Aster knew his answer almost immediately. He had bled for his strength; he had faced uncountable dangers for it, but inside, he truly felt like he might lose his mind if his stay in the forest was prolonged. Apart from being paranoid that he might be losing something if he stayed here any longer, it was also the fact that he was burning with an undeniable curiosity to know how his enemies were doing. Had the Lord of the Lunar House finally succeeded in his endeavors? Were there any of his family members who still lived? The last time he tried checking, he wasn't in his right mind, and his fear had led him to mostly hide and assume that all was lost. Looking at the question his master had posed, Aster felt himself reaffirming his desire all the more.

He opened his mouth.

"Yes, I'm sure." He told his master, who, in turn, smiled and clapped his hands. "Then it's settled. It's finally time for us to leave this place."