Hope In Tomorrow?

EL RITCH

As the tournament loomed just one day away, El Ritch focused intensely on perfecting everything Julian had taught him. The movements, the stances, the precision—they had all become second nature by now. Julian had often commented on how unnervingly fast El Ritch learned. "You're a really creepy child. Eldritch even~ get it?" He used to say with a joking tone.

'A thief in the black, stealing the show,' Julian had said once, his tone teasing but with a faint edge of seriousness. El Ritch didn't entirely understand what the phrase meant, but he liked the sound of it.

After his training, El Ritch turned his attention to revising the lessons Julian had drilled into him, particularly about the beasts. While plants and herbs had been easy enough to commit to memory, the beasts required more focus. Their classifications, behaviors, and threats felt more immediate now that he was about to step into their world.

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[The Beasts and Their Grades

El Ritch reviewed Julian's teachings:

Unauthorized Grade Beasts

The most dangerous of all, these creatures were considered untouchable by most hunters. Even among the elite, only the strongest dared face them. Aldric had become infamous for taking on two unauthorized-grade beasts simultaneously and emerging victorious, a feat that no one else had accomplished. Top-graded hunters were essential for such battles, requiring at least two in peak condition to have a chance of survival. The unauthorized beast grades did not hunt, being apex of all predators, their behaviors were erratic, they behaved situationally, some were even capable of speech and self-conscious thought. Unauthorized grade beasts weren't generally belonging to any families of species. They are amalgamation of such of everything. Hunting a unauthorized beast simply means communicating to it and hoping it would deter from it's intended course. An unauthorized grade beast could hardly be killed, because they are of non living.

Special Grade Beasts

Deadly but manageable for veteran hunters. Taking on one special-grade beast still required a coordinated team effort. Five skilled veteran hunters were typically the minimum for such a task. These beasts marked the beginning of the steep power curve that divided the upper-tier creatures from the rest. Similar to the unauthorized grade beasts they were amalgamations or distorted creatures.

Platinum Grade Beasts

Large, territorial birds, either herbivorous or carnivorous, often growing to the size of a full-grown man or larger. These creatures were the domain of veteran or middle-ranked hunters, their size and strength demanding both skill and caution. Both aerial and territorial birds were dangerous.

Gold Grade Beasts

Herbivorous and territorial, but far less dangerous than the higher grades. They were often used in supervised hunts for middle-ranked or novice hunters, provided a veteran acted as a supervisor.

Silver Grade Beasts

The lowest of the grades but still formidable in their own right. Carnivorous by nature, they are usually docile unless provoked, hungry, or in mating season. Slightly larger than normal predatory animals, they provided an ideal challenge for novice hunters. They are generally used for trainees, and such will be introduced to the tournament.]

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Julian had been careful to explain the hierarchy of beasts, but he'd avoided delving into the specifics of hunter rankings, brushing off questions with a wave and a smirk. "That is a question for the academy." What mattered, he'd said, was that El Ritch understood the dangers.

In the tournament, only silver-graded beasts would be within the grounds, strictly monitored by the Academy's headmistress, Julian, and other supervisors. Julian had warned him repeatedly:

"The silver grades are usually docile. If you encounter one, stay calm. Stray away from them or, if you must, kneel in submission. They'll back down most of the time."

The advice replayed in El Ritch's mind as he sat in the quiet of the evening, going over the notes he'd etched into his memory. This was no ordinary test of skill; it was a trial by fire.

But El Ritch felt ready. The nervous excitement coursing through him whispered that this was what he'd been preparing for all along.

Dusk painted the snowy landscape with hues of purple and gray, the air crisp and silent as Julian finally entered the house. He carried with him a leather bag, its opening secured with a rope.

It was the first night in the ten days of training that Julian had allowed El Ritch to sleep in a proper room.

"Big day tomorrow for the little man, hm?" Julian's voice was light, an attempt to ease the tension lingering in the air.

El Ritch nodded, his heart caught between thrill and nervousness.

"Well," Julian began, setting the bag down on the table, "I've brought gifts for you. No special treatments though, just like you asked."

Julian loosened the rope and reached inside, pulling out a sheathed blade. The scabbard was rough, its worn leather marked with cuts and hacks that told of countless battles. He held it out, the weight of its history palpable even before El Ritch touched it.

"This," Julian said, his tone tinged with amusement, "is a gift from the witch, and in a way, from Aldric. It was his blade once. He lost it, and we… well, we didn't quite return it to him."

Julian chuckled as he offered the sword. El Ritch hesitated for a moment before taking it, the scabbard heavier than he'd expected.

"Why didn't you return it to him?" El Ritch asked, his brow furrowed. He had always believed that a good friend should return what was lost to its rightful owner.

Julian shrugged, his grin widening. "Well, you'll understand… in due time, of course."

He reached back into the bag and pulled out a second item—a simple leather armor. It was worn and beaten, its edges frayed with age and use. But the center of the chest, where the heart lay, was different. The leather there was polished, almost new, standing out against the rest of the battered piece. In close, El Ritch noticed, it was stitched into it.

"This," Julian said, holding it out, "is also from Aldric and now from me. It was his armor before he became a kni—" He bit his tongue mid-word, correcting himself. "Hunter. Yes, a great Hunter."

El Ritch tilted his head, catching the slip but choosing not to question it. The vague feeling that the answer would be the same as before stopped him.

Instead, he bowed slightly, his voice steady. "Thank you, Chief Julian."

The night settled over the village earlier than usual, the purple hues of dusk giving way to the darkness that enveloped the frozen landscape. Inside, Julian had prepared a meal for El Ritch—a feast far richer than anything he'd had during their days of training.

Fried chicken, golden and crisp, was dipped in animal fat and slathered with a sauce made from peppers, honey, and fragrant herbs. Beside it, a mound of rice fried with fruits offered a spicy-sweet counterpoint to the chicken.

El Ritch bit into the chicken breast, the crispy outer layer breaking apart to reveal the tender, juicy meat within. The sauce burst across his tongue, a perfect blend of heat and sweetness. It was, without question, the most delicious thing he had ever eaten.

For a few moments, the anticipation of tomorrow was overshadowed by the simple joy of the meal.

The food was finished all too quickly, and with it went the brief reprieve from his thoughts. El Ritch settled into Julian's room, snuggled beneath a thick wool blanket that trapped the warmth around him.

Julian had stepped out, saying he needed to meet with the tournament's supervisor and the Academy's principal. Alone in the room, El Ritch stared at the ceiling, the faint flicker of the hearth casting shadows that danced like restless spirits.

He was warm and cozy, but sleep eluded him. His feet felt cold, and no amount of shifting under the blanket seemed to help.

Tomorrow loomed in his mind, a weight he couldn't shake. His body trembled, though he wasn't sure why. Was it fear? Anxiety? Or something else entirely?

He decided, after a moment of thought, that it was excitement.

Tomorrow would be the day where everything he had learned, every lesson and every trial from the past ten days, would be tested. It was a culmination of his journey so far, the moment he would prove to himself—and to others—that he belonged in the Academy of Hornet.

His heart raced at the thought.

Wrapped tightly in the blanket, El Ritch closed his eyes, his breath steadying as he repeated Julian's lessons in his mind. Despite the cold that lingered in his feet and the restlessness in his chest, a faint smile touched his lips.

Tomorrow would come, and with it, his chance to face the world head-on.