Hunter's Bond, page 19
The boy drew in a long breath, then let his eyes close. Arheis saw the tension drain from his body and in just a few moments, he was out. Mira let out a soft breath, then turned back to Arheis. Her smile was less reserved now; it reached her eyes and made them shine just a little bit brighter, and—
God, he was going to become one of those guys who had a crush on a collection of pixels, wasn’t he? Or neural synapses or… whatever created this world and everyone in it.
“I’ll be honest: I expected to find him flailing around with you hiding under a cot when I got back,” she said, her lips curved into a playful smirk.
“I thought about it,” Arheis said with a little grin.
She laughed, a rich sound that sent a tingle running up his spine and made him wonder what he could do to get her to laugh like that again.
“You were good with him.” That smirk settled into a more natural smile. “You have a talent for healing.”
“My mom always thought so,” he said fondly. “She was a nu—uh, a healer, too. She always wanted me to become one, but it just wasn’t in the cards.”
He’d been able to get over his own fear of needles, but once piercing the skin of oranges turned into piercing the skin of other people who winced and cried and cursed, he’d had a hard time keeping up with his schooling.
“Well, if you ever change your mind,” she said with a wink.
Arheis was strongly inclined to do just that. But before he could devote his virtual life to healing, Mira headed off to collect more of the paste from Zindar and offer it to the patients.
The three of them worked for over two hours to get the salve to everyone who needed it.
It would have taken much less time, but family members were in and out of the camp constantly, hovering and asking questions and letting their fears and worries keep them from respecting boundaries. With Arheis helping, there was no one left to act as a bouncer. That was until the mayor returned, saw that his son’s color had improved greatly and that he was conscious and smiling, and took it upon himself to bring order to the camp.
By the time everyone had received the salve, some of the first few who’d been treated were sitting up and talking with their families and loved ones. It was rewarding to see, and it felt more to Arheis like he’d just finished some impactful volunteer work rather than completed a quest in a video game.
It felt meaningful, like he’d be able to sleep tonight knowing he’d done some real good. Not because it gave him XP or credits, but because it was the right thing to do.
“What you did for my boy… I really appreciate it. I’d like to introduce you to Lacerda’s Guildmaster. It’s about time you had your name put in the books.”
He was so caught up in that way of thinking that, when the mayor pulled him aside later, he was surprised by the quest update.
> Your quest Twilight Spores has updated.
Higrem wants to bring you by Lacerda’s Guildhall. Join him there to unlock your Guild Rank and earn rewards for your hunts.
“I’d love to, but it wasn’t just me.” He motioned to Zindar and Amira, both of whom were still checking on patients.
“Bring them along, then, so long as you’re comfortable splitting the reward.” Higrem slapped his back the way Treyous had—though not quite as hard—and laughed as if he’d just told the funniest joke imaginable.
“Uh… I mean I only did part of the work, so yeah. I’m comfortable with that.”
“Don’t get your breeches in a twist, boy,” the man said. “I’m only pulling your leg.” He nodded toward the camp. “The three of you can meet me at the Guild Hall tonight. We’ll have a little celebration. My treat.”
Arheis’ stomach rumbled at the mere suggestion of food and he realized he hadn’t actually eaten anything since last night. If the others could spare him, he might have to pick up a snack. Or he could slip off and get them all something. Deciding that was a better plan, Arheis did just that, spending 2S on some skewers of meat and vegetables that had too enticing an aroma to ignore.
The kebabs went over well, and Mira even purchased some ale for the three of them at a nearby tavern once she finished healing their wounds. After everyone had eaten their fill—and looked significantly happier having done so—he told them what the mayor said.
“Mayor Higrem invited us to the Guild Hall later,” he said after wiping the bit of residual grease from his lips. “He wants to thank us.”
Zindar’s eyes brightened, and that rosy glow that had inhabited his nose and ears from the alcohol seemed to mark his excitement. “I bet they’ll want to know about the beasts we found in those caves, too.”
Mira, it turned out, did not share Zindar’s enthusiasm. She looked uneasy, and she threw back a good amount of ale before saying, “You never did tell me what you found in there.”
Bristling with sudden energy, Zindar relayed the tale the way a bard might, not skimping on any details and embellishing plenty. Arheis smiled throughout and nodded in recognition, but he snuck his gaze to the healer as often as he could. She was engaged in what her friend was saying, yet he got the sense she was holding back. And definitely avoiding the subject of the Guild.
She did perk up at the mention of the mystery elf, though. “Did he say what his name was?”
Zindar looked to him in question, shaking his head. “He didn’t, did he?”
“No, not that I remember.”
“Elves don’t usually make it out this far. I wonder what he was searching for,” she mused.
No one had a good guess for that, and conversation tapered off until Zindar led the tavern—which only held a few other patrons—in a very raucous drinking song. Mira laughed, but it wasn’t the uninhibited laugh he’d heard earlier, and the smile that persisted didn’t reach her eyes. Before long, she excused herself to go check on her patients, and Arheis decided to follow.
“You’re not very fond of the Guild, are you?” Arheis asked before she reached the door.
“That’s my choice, isn’t it?” came her automatic response, snapped out like a caged animal.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to say anything. It is your choice,” he said defensively.
She reached for the door but stopped, her hand just resting against the wood. “No, I’m the one who should apologize.” She turned to face him, her features mirroring her words. “It was kind of you to include Zindar and me in the mayor’s offer, when I’m sure he only made it to you.”
Higrem had been willing to let them all split the reward and join the celebration together, but Mira’s words reminded him of the man’s “joke” about not keeping it all to himself.
Throughout the series, Apex had been a game that rewarded individual effort—even when grouping. In the early days, each hunter had to initiate the quest to get credit for it, which meant groups had to run it several times for everyone to get their reward. Later on, the hunters who contributed the most during hunts were given more materials, more XP, and more recognition from the Guild.
It was part of the reason Arheis had always gone solo. It just seemed easier that way, instead of having some tryhard steal his thunder by bringing vastly overpowered gear to the fight.
Now he wondered if he wasn’t the only one who had a problem with that system.
“You did most of the work,” he insisted. “You should get most of the credit. Or at least some of the reward. I can always bring back my share and—”
“You’re sweet,” she said, stopping him in his tracks, “but I’m not interested in taking the Guild’s credits.”
“Because of what happened?” Arheis blurted out before he could think better of it.
Mira looked back at Zindar, who was standing on his chair now, sloshing his mug back and forth as he sang. Arheis almost said something in the Pruvari’s defense, but the healer didn’t seem angry. She just smiled. “He means well,” she said softly, more to herself it seemed than anyone else. “And… that was only the start of it. But it’s a story I’d rather not get into right now. I hope you can respect that, Arheis.”
“It’s your story to tell,” he said, “when or if you want to.”
“Thank you,” she mouthed, reaching for one of his hands and giving it a squeeze.
She left then, and as the door fell closed behind her, Arheis still felt the warmth of her hand in his—even through their gloves.
Later in the day—once Zindar had sobered up and was ready for more ale—the two of them went to Lacerda’s Guildhall. The building was, for all intents and purposes, a hunting lodge. They’d always been designed that way, but seeing one in person was a little surreal. The outside was rustic, almost like a cabin transplanted from some snowy mountain range; a place where travelers could come in, warm their hands by the fire, and enjoy some hot cocoa.
As those were the last things Arheis wanted to do in the middle of the humid jungle, he was glad to see the interior didn’t really match that motif. There was no roaring fire, no massive bearskin rug. There were, however, plenty of trophies. Heads mostly, stuffed and mounted on every wall, all of them posed so their jaws were open and poised to attack. There was something both grim and fascinating about it as Arheis took in the sight of beasts he’d slain in virtual space so many times before.
There were other trophies, too. Massive bones from beasts whose heads were too large to mount, the impressive talons of a flying creature that hunters had managed to repel, not kill. Paintings of beasts and hunters caught in battle, commemorating significant moments in the Guild’s history. All of these were credited, with each trophy and painting featuring a plaque beneath it upon which the prevailing hunter’s name was engraved. Never more than one name, Arheis noticed, but then the Guild—and Apex in general—had always played up the fantasy of one man prevailing against the worst nature had to throw at him.
Higrem sat at the center of it all, kicked back at a long table, surrounded by other hunters who seemed to be plying him with alcohol. There were three empty mugs in front of him and a fourth being slid into his line of view. His weapon of choice—a massive, two-handed sword that literally looked to be made out of the jawbone of a beast—was brandished atop the table as Higrem relayed some conquest or another. Arheis only caught bits and pieces of it, and the mayor was deep enough into his cups that he was beginning to slur.
“Ah, the man of the hour!” he practically roared, surprising the two hunters closest to him and even drenching one of them in ale when he thrust his mug to the sky. “Come! Sit! Lasivia, be a doll and fetch us some real food.”
He said the word “real” in a half-growl, accentuating it so much that Arheis wondered if “real” food wasn’t a big slab of meat carved off something that wasn’t quite dead yet. Mira’s unease played in the back of his mind and he looked at Zindar, realizing the mayor hadn’t even mentioned his companion. The Pruvari was either oblivious or just happy to be here, because he was already on his way to the table, his tail swishing behind him.
“Make some room,” Higrem commanded, and the hunters who’d been crowding around him scooted down, giving Arheis and Zindar a place to sit on the bench. “The healer decided not to come, eh? Not surprising.”
There wasn’t anything overly malicious in his tone, but still Arheis bristled a little. He very nearly asked the man what he meant by that, but it was obvious where the division of power fell most heavily in Lacerda. If he started openly challenging high-ranking members of the Guild, he’d find himself an outcast for sure. And considering the whole goal of Apex was to kill beasts, gain renown, and rank up, he wasn’t doing himself any favors.
Still, he viewed Higrem with a healthier dose of suspicion than he had any other Guild NPC.
“These are the boys who saved my son,” Higrem explained, finally acknowledging Zindar’s part in the whole ordeal.
“We only fetched ingredients,” Arheis said evenly.
“We had to kill a few Occasa to do it,” Zindar added. “Has the Guild registered any recently?”
“Occasa? Not in a good twenty years, at least. You sure it wasn’t something else you saw?” he leaned against the table, meaty arms taking up a wide swathe of space.
Before Arheis could say anything, Zindar reached into his pack and pulled out one of the wingtalons, hefting it above the table to exclamations of surprise from the other hunters. Even Higrem let out a low whistle.
“Well I’ll be damned.” He leaned forward to get a better look. “Mel! We’ve got a new beast to register.”
A short man in his late fifties ambled down the stairs, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Let me get my book,” he croaked out, shuffling over to a counter in the corner.
“You’d best empty the coffers, too,” Higrem said with a laugh. “Find like that’s worth a good amount of credits. More if you’re willing to part with that wingtalon.”
The small man—who was even shorter than Zindar—approached the table with a large book and a sack of credits. Shooing away one of the younger hunters, he made a place for himself on the bench and cracked open the tome, revealing a blank page three quarters of the way through.
“This is a record of all the beasts felled in this area by the Guild,” Higrem explained. “Tell us anything you can, and Mel’ll get it up to date.”
Over the next hour, accompanied by fresh mugs of ale and a communal plate of shredded meats, Zindar and Arheis answered a series of questions presented by the man Arheis could only guess was the Guild’s curator. They described the beast in excessive detail, relaying everything from its physical characteristics to its attack patterns and even what it smelled like. Mel recorded it all, sketching out an approximation that looked close enough to the real thing for everyone to agree.
Higrem grew restless partway through, their story apparently not earning his attention as well as his own nonsense. He began to tell a tale he’d heard about a Culasta—not even something he’d experienced first hand. But the starry-eyed hunters hung on his every word rather than listening to the details of an actual life or death fight.
Once it was over and Mel snapped the tome closed, Higrem finally swung his attention back to them. “I think it’s high time these boys were rewarded.”
“I’m getting to that,” the older man grumbled before he toddled across the Guildhall, stowing away one tome and retrieving another. “Your names, please.”
Zindar gave his first, and the curator flipped through the worn pages. Arheis peeked at them as he went, getting the impression that these were records kept on every hunter, meant to track their contributions to the Guild. Some were barely more than a few lines, but a few had several pages dedicated to their exploits—including Higrem.
The Pruvari’s page, as it turned out, was one of the former. There were just a few entries, and something written in very harsh ink that Arheis couldn’t read from where he sat.
“Zindar, Rank 4. Last recorded kill: 2 Lamica,” the curator read off. Zindar nodded. “I’m adding three Occasa to this, yes? In a kill shared with two other hunters. That will award you… 17 points. Just shy of Rank 5, I’m afraid.”
Zindar let out a puff of breath, his ears folding downward in obvious disappointment. “Not to be overly critical, but you can’t give bonus points for a beast that hasn’t been seen in decades?”
“No,” the curator said simply. “Kill them solo next time if you want more points.”
Wait, what? Apex had always given more Kill Points for soloing beasts, but that was meant to balance out the fact that a group could kill many more in the same amount of time. This sounded like they were actively encouraging hunters to abandon the tenets of grouping and go it alone. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but the number of coincidences cropping up was becoming a little difficult to ignore.
“What about the Nepondus cubs?” Arheis asked. “You killed at least three or four of those. The Molclept, too.”
The curator looked at Zindar from over the edge of the large tome. “Do you have proof?”
Zindar fished through his pack and took out one of the fronds he’d taken from a cub, along with a claw, a tusk, and some various bits from the Molclept. The curator examined each, then nodded. “Ten more points, then.”
“Ten? That seems insanely low,” Arheis said.
Higrem barked a laugh, prompting the other hunters to join in. “For a Nepondus cub and some overgrown rats? You might as well celebrate killing a domesticated pet. Take down the Queen, then we’ll talk.”
Arheis stared at the man across the table. This whole time he’d been embroiled in revelry, a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye as if he hadn’t nearly watched his son die. It’d seemed a little strange, but people dealt with crises in different ways, and he wasn’t going to judge. This, though, was just blatant disrespect, and completely disregarding what several of the guards and hunters went through.
“Your son was nearly killed by a Nepondus cub,” Arheis said, unable to stop himself.
The hard look from earlier returned, the large man staring him down as though he might run him through with the sword he’d been showing off. For the first time since he’d started playing Untamed, Arheis was reminded of Brad, his team lead. Former team lead. Obsessed with arbitrary rules and company culture while having no regard for what was actually going on around him.
“My son was ambushed, and he wouldn’t have been poisoned to begin with if the Guild in Lacerda had better supplies.”
Arheis looked to the curator, convinced he was going to say something about all of this. But the man seemed willfully oblivious to the whole conversation, tallying up numbers on Zindar’s page. “That will get you into Rank 5. Congratulations, Zindar.”
Zindar smiled as he put away the materials he’d carved from the beasts. There was less enthusiasm in his expression now, and Arheis wondered if the Pruvari was beginning to feel strange about this whole thing, too.
“You next,” the curator gestured to Arheis, “then we’ll deal with rewards.”
Arheis could still feel the weight of Higrem’s stare on him as he gave his name to the older man. He wouldn’t say he’d made an enemy, but the two of them definitely weren’t going to be fast friends. After a long moment of just sizing him up, Higrem pushed away from the table and stood.
