Posted by Kimnikki on January 19, 2003 at 15:38:20:
For The Love of The Hunt, Part II
A Story by Kimnikki
They immediately heard a woman begin to sob, and their eyes towards the sound.
There were two women in robs, one of whom was sobbing into her hands while a tall man stood
behind her, giving her comfort. The other, was standing tall and proud, with a strange smile on
her face. For a few precious moments the lovers thought perhaps here was a woman who
understood.
She had short red hair, and while not the most beautiful of women, there was an excitement and
sexiness about her that radiated into the air around her. She was small and very slim, though
not skinny, what skin that could be seen rather pale for a villager, though it was covered in
freckles. This one would truly please The Lady.
But when they touched their bows and in their minds took aim at the girl, their Elban bows did
not respond with any excitement beyond that of knowing they were soon to be used to draw
blood. The woman’s soul did not respond to the presence of The Lady that the elves and their
bows could feel.
No ... she was indeed excited ... but not for the reasons that Jajgin wanted and needed. They
had met this sort before as well. One who found the idea of being hunted an exciting challenge,
but did not truly understand what the real reasons for The Hunt were.
The other was even worse. She was crying and trembling ... obviously terrified and wanting
nothing whatsoever to do with The Lady and The Hunt. The man behind her, presumably her
father, looked terribly sad and afraid for his child ... he no more understood than his child.
Both lovers felt a pang of deep regret. Not for what they must do this day, but for the father and
his child who didn’t have the love and the courage to open their hearts and find the beauty that
was to be found on this day.
But The Lady had her demands ... and while she was beautiful, she was also stern and she would
have blood this day ... or none of them would thrive this year.
“Please, please don’t make me do this father!” the woman pleaded with the man behind her,
making him close his eyes in pain. She had long blond hair that billowed down her back, and
well-tanned skin that showed many days of work in the sun. She had a strong body and very
pretty eyes ... she was quite beautiful. Jajgin would be pleased ... though she would have been
happier with a willing, knowing, understanding victim.
“I would do this for you my child ... but it was your name, and that of Jental that was chosen
Marisa. I know it’s hard ... but you must ... you have to do this ... or many will die come the
winter. You must do this for your people ... you know this is true.” The man’s words to his child
were filled with tears of his own, but they were also firm.
And they were true. His child dissolved into quite sobs.
Trigan ... the old chief of the human tribe took a long breath, and held his hands wide to gain the
attention of his people.
“Our elfin kin have arrived!” called the old chief ... his own voice sad but steady. “The Lady, in
her grace, told them that they must share their Great Forest with their human cousins ... but she
demanded the same price from us that she demands from them.”
“Jajgin is The Lady of the Hunt ... and The Lady of Blood. She is the Goddess of life and death
itself ... of the great balance of life. Her ways are hard ... but they are fair ... and this Great
Forest that is our home ... requires a sacrifice of blood and of life.”
He took a long breath ... pointing towards the two very different women.
“She requires a Hunt ... and the blood and life that is her due.”
“Our elfin cousins made the sacrifice when last The Lady called for blood ... giving of their own ...
and now by our pact must we give of ours to appease Our Lady.”
He then pointed to Kiith’thal and Nath’ra.
“The Hunters have arrived ... with the Elban bows that are the mark of the touch of Jajgin.
Through The Hunt and the taking of life with an Elban Bow, the blood of our people will sustain
us all!”
They stood and said nothing ... simply standing and waiting. His words were true ... but so cold,
so devoid of the beauty and the love that Jajgin had to share as well. He was respectful of her,
not resentful of the price that must be paid for all of the folk, both Elf and Human to live here,
but he also saw this as a sad duty.
No wonder they couldn’t understand, with leaders such as this man. It was so very sad.
“Marisa, Jental ... your names were chosen by lot ... all the names of those who have just come
to adult years were there ... and The Lady picked you to join with her. To give to her your lives
and your blood so she may renew the pact and so all my thrive!”
With that he gestured to the two women. Jental smiled, her excitement showing as she parted
her robe, to reveal her naked body underneath. Her body was indeed covered with freckles,
from crown to heals.
Marisa seemed unable to move ... and after several moments her father parted her robe to show
her naked body. She seemed ashamed of her nakedness, trying to cover her body. The elves
felt very said for the woman ... she had a beautiful body and had no reason for shame. Nor
should she be so very sad.
“And now is the time of The Hunt!” the chief cried in a great voice.
Jental gave The Hunters a long look ... then she gave a cry of “HA!” and sprinted off towards
trees, passing without knowing it between two of Kiith’thal’s and Nath’ra’s escorts.
But Marisa simply stood and cried ... too frightened to run, even as those around her began to
urge her to run ... to run for her life. She stood trembling, shaking in terror.
Nath’ra watched ... and finally he could take it no more and approached. Many of the humans
drew back from him in fear, even those that knew him. Marisa was so terrified that she couldn’t
move ... like a deer cornered by a bear and able to run no further.
He bent close, and whispered in her ear.
“Your time wanes ... your life is over Marisa. But how that life ends is up to you ... and myself.
You must run ... or your life is wasted. Please ... run ... run now,” he whispered, his words quiet
but intense.
She gave a single loud sob ... and then finally bolted towards the trees and off into the forest.
He closed his eyes in pain ... knowing that there was really only one thing he could do for her. He
turned to her father, a man he had known since this now aged old fellow was a child.
“I promise you Harnold ... I will make her end as painless as I am able ... and as swift.” It was
all the comfort he was able to give him, as little as it was. The pain in the man’s eyes only made
Nath’ra’s heart ache that much more ... if only he could understand. His sadness at the loss of
his child would have been assuaged by the knowledge of what her death could be.
Kiith’thal walked up to him, putting her hand on his shoulder, his own pain reflected in her eyes.
They stood side by side, with the frightened and sad humans around them. Both of them looked
towards where they knew Bethany was sitting ... as much as they loved their duty to the
Goddess, they found themselves wishing they could go to her and just sit and talk and admire
her spirit and her beauty. This day could be so beautiful ... and now it was so sad.
But the chief had been totally correct in one respect ... The Lady did indeed demand blood to
keep this forest as what it was, both home and haven. And they would take what She needed,
and what they could from this Hunt, as little as they both knew it would now be.
They waited, until they had counted a thousand beats of their hearts. Then they raised their
horns to their lips, and both blew a long echoing note ... the call of The Hunt.
They raised their bows high, hearing the cheer of the escort in the ring of trees and then they
took off, Kiith’thal after Jental and Nath’ra after Marisa.
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Marisa ran, panting in terror, her heart frozen with fear ... no living soul would be able to
misunderstand that. She was scrambling and running blindly ... running with all her might, but
because of her fear she was not actually gaining much distance.
She kept slamming into trees or getting turned around and doubling back without realizing it.
She kept looking everywhere, looking for that dark armor and piercing green eyes. And that
awful yet beautiful song that seemed to throb from the very wood of the bow he carried.
She had heard it the moment he approached ... it was calling for her blood ... calling for her to
stop her run and let him send and arrow through her heart ... her very heart! It was all the more
horrific that she had felt it trying to calm her ... that the song it sang was beautiful and longing
and that it wanted her.
And so she ran ... and in her running and her unthinking terror lost what there was that song had
promised.
Then, off in the distance, she heard a long aching note ... much lower yet stronger than the one
that had told her he was now after her. It echoed through the trees, and then a strange breeze
wafted through the trees and grasses around her ... and she noted the smallest of changes in the
life all around her. Several of the bushes were suddenly a bit greener, and some of them
suddenly sprouted small flowers or buds.
She felt her heart go to ice as she realized the female elf had found and killed Jental ... it could
mean nothing else.
‘Oh Goddess ... please not me ... please ... I don’t want to die ...’ she pleaded silently in her
mind, not understand at all what is was The Lady wanted. She ran and ran and ran.
And she saw that the sun was moving ... that it had more of an arch ... she had been going for
half the day now.
She was just beginning to believe that she might have lost him when suddenly he stepped from
the wood in front of her. Her heart leapt in horror, but before she could voice it, before she
could scream, Nath’ra drew and fired in one smooth motion.
She heard the whistle of the arrow, and she also heard the aching song of the bow in his hands
cry out in her ears ... and then the arrow slammed home. Her face froze, mouth agape ... she
crumpled to the forest floor ... without so much as a sigh.
The broad point had slammed home in her heart, cutting it nearly in two and sending the shock
of the impact into her brain. She was dead before she struck the ground ... her fear finally gone.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nath’ra stood over the woman’s body, his body taunt and excited, though his heart and soul
were heavy. She had been so scared ... she had taken nothing that The Goddess had to give her
... nothing that he had to give her. It was so sad that so very few of them understood.
There was so much more this could have been ... his body was more than ready for it ... and he
wanted it so badly, but as it had been for many years now, it was not to be. The blood had been
spilled, it had been given to the earth as was needed, but that was all she had given ... and all
she had received. What a waste.
Even his Elban was subdued ... its song quiet and not the joyous note that a Hunt normally
produced in it. He reached down and coated his fingers in her rapidly cooling blood, then slid his
fingers over the dark shaft, feeling its song grow a bit louder and its own pleasure warm him as
the blood sank into the wood, making its color go a small fraction darker. But it should have
been crying out a song of joy, its power pouring though him ... it’s blood lust had been fulfilled,
but it had received as little from this as he had.
He looked around at the woods, noting that the trees here showed little signs of the life just
given them. Their leafs were somewhat greener, perhaps a bit fuller ... but not showing the
power they should have. He looked down once more at her strained and terror filled face ...
such a waste ... such a waste.
He sighed, pulled his horn to his lips, and blew the signal. It’s long clarion note echoing out
through the forest once again.
He sat by her cooling body, whispering quiet prayers to Jajgin for her soul until his ever alert ears
picked out the near silent approach of his beloved. She approached from the east, a look in her
eyes that was sad and triumphant at once. Nath’ra noted automatically that her quiver was short
by three arrows. Her hands were stained with blood, though no where near as much as he
would have hoped.
She joined him, touching his cheek gently as he turned to kiss her bloody fingers. She looked
down at the terrified look frozen on the young woman’s face and had no need to ask her mate
the questions he was loath to answer
“Mine was at least excited by the chase,” Kiith’thal said sadly. “But she still did not understand ...
she thought that if she could get far enough, stay alive long enough, that she would somehow
win free. She died well ... quite bravely in fact ... but ... we shared nothing but The Hunt itself.”
Nath’ra took a heavy breath, and got to his feet beside his love. He kissed her gently, feeling her
own sadness at the tragic waste in such death. Her body was as excited by the passions of The
Goddess as his own was, but her heart was heavy ... though not as much as his own. Her own
Elban bow was as subdued as his own.
“The Pact has been kept ... their lives will renew The Great Forest. As much as we might wish
this to be more for us, this is a duty for Our Lady, and so long as she is satisfied, we will have to
be as well my love.” Kiith’thal knew her mates words were true, but she also knew that The
Goddess would have rejoiced to have had more as well.
“Come love ... we must finish our worship, and then lead the other’s in the ceremony,” Kiith’thal
said softly, taking his hand. “They will be here soon for her, let us go.”
Nath’ra marked the spot so that the others would find her quickly and they walked off together
towards the pool they used for cleansing. They didn’t speak, content to walk along, simply
holding hands as the passed through the splashes of sun and shadow.
They both heard it at the same time and their reactions were identical; in the blink of an eye a
pair of Elban bows were pulled, an arrow notched to each and drawn, aiming at a point some
hundred feet ahead. Kiith’thal had dropped to a crouch, Nath’ra standing over her so that they
both could release at the same time.
The pull of the bows was enormous, yet their hands were rock steady. Both could feel the calm
thrum of their bows ... their mated weapons felt no threat in the footsteps they could hear ahead
of them. But some things could fool even an Elban.
But then a slim, familiar form stepped from the bushes some 70 feet ahead, probing gently at the
path in front of her with her oak staff. It was Bethany ... in a part of the forest than neither elf
had ever seen her walk before.
The pair let the tension from their Elbans, holding them low by their sides. Both bows had called
to them to take a life so easily offered, but the bows had been blooded, and gave no protest
when they failed to shoot.
Kiith’thal was about to call out, but Nath’ra quickly turned to her, one finger to his lips.
Bethany moved along without her usual confidence, hesitation in her movements. But she was
not hesitant in her steps ... those were as firm as always. It was not like she was not confident of
her steps, but rather of her direction, as if she was unsure if she were heading the right
direction. She turned her face left and right, feeling the warmth of the sun and sniffing the air.
Then suddenly she turned towards them.
“Nath’ra? Kiith’thal? Are you there ... I thought ... I thought I heard your steps ... and ... it felt
right in this direction,” she said quietly. Her voice, while always low and gentle, had a strange
softness and hesitation in it ... almost fear in fact. “Are you there,” she asked again, her voice
trembling slightly.
“Yes,” Nath’ra answered, “it is us.”
Bethany jumped slightly, something she had never done before, not in all the years they had
known her.
“I thought I heard your horn,” she replied, stopping and holding her staff close to her body, her
voice still trembling.
“’My’ horn,” he said again, surprised at her knowledge. “You knew it was ‘my’ horn ... you know
that we ...” he began, but the woman cut him off.
“That you are Jajgin’s Hunters ... both of you ... yes.”
Jajgin turned to Kiith’thal, his eyes wide in surprise.
“How long have you known young one,” Kiith’thal asked, as surprised as her mate at their young
friends knowledge.
“I ... I’ve always known I guess,” she said, her shining coppery eyes turned towards them.
Nath’ra turned a puzzled face towards his love, then back to Bethany. “And you’re not frightened
by that?” he asked.
“I was when I was very little, but only because everybody said Hunters of Jajgin were very
dangerous.”
“And now?” Kiith’thal asked, as puzzled by their friend as her mate was.
“I’m not afraid of you ... not for a long time now.”
“Almost no human we ever met has stayed our friend once they knew we were priest and
priestess, The Hunters for Our Beloved Lady.” Kiith’thal’s voice reflected the pain of lost friends
and acquaintances. “It is nice to know you don’t fear us.”
But they both knew that that was not entirely true. Oh it was true enough that she wasn’t truly
afraid of them ... they would have sensed that long before now. She had always been warm and
kind to them both. But it was obvious that she was nervous ... even frightened.
There was an awkward pause as Bethany moved a bit closer, then she bit her lower lip, and
spoke in that same trembling voice.
“Did ... did you kill Jentel and Marisa?” she asked them, moving a few steps closer to them.
Nath’ra closed his eyes and he breathed a silent ‘ah’ of understanding for their friends
nervousness now. Just as they had met those who were repulsed by their devotion to Jajgin,
they had met a rare few that were intrigued, even excited by it. They had never met one so
young who felt the dark thrill of The Goddess, but they accepted it. It was a balm to the
disappointment they both had felt today. Even more so because Bethany was their friend.
Kiith’thal turned to him, then back to their sightless friend with a tolerate smile.
“Yes Bethany, we did. I killed Jental, and Nath’ra took Marisa’s life from her,” Kiith’thal replied,
the hardness of her words softened by the smile in her voice.
“It ... it must be hard ... to ... to kill ... someone you know ... to have to take their lives so that
The Forest can thrive,” Bethany said, the quaver still in her voice.
Kiith’thal smiled, somewhat sadly, and though Bethany could not see it she could hear it in her
voice.
“At times all things can be hard young one, but for us The Hunt and the taking of a life given
over to Our Lady can be a great joy. No, it is not hard and I will not lie to you my friend; it is
something we very much enjoy. It can be beautiful.”
She felt no shame, no reason to lie or dissemble, nor did her mate. They had never, and would
never, apologize to anyone for their worship of Jajgin, or the things this worship required of
them. They loved their duties and both of them had long ago accepted that Jajgin had simply
called out to the darker part of them that had already existed.
They loved The Hunt ... and they both took pleasure in blood and death. If only those who had
been chosen to give life to The Goddess only understood that it could also be so for them.
Nath’ra took a step forward and to his surprise, Bethany stepped back a few paces. He stopped,
and she then stood her ground, breathing a bit quickly. Had they told her too much? Would she
turn away from them as almost all their human friends had when they understood the truth
about them?
“I ... I don’t understand though ... you both sound so sad ... I can hear it.” Bethany had her face
turned towards Nath’ra now, her coppery eyes reflecting confusion and more than a bit of fear.
Nath’ra took a deep breath, unsure of how to answer her question. She was, after all, not much
more than a child. How do you make so young a woman understand the joys that could be
found in pain and blood and death when none of the elders could?
“It is hard to find the words Bethany ... you are very young. But ... well ... we are sad because
Jental and Marisa didn’t understand. I know you won’t understand, I know it sounds silly, but
the hunt could have been ... glorious ... for them as well.” Nath’ra knew that was a poor
description, but he wasn’t sure how to make a woman of only 19 understand. By human
standards she was an adult, but compared to them, she was little more than a child.
“Be ... be ... because they were afraid?” she asked him.
“No ... not just because they were scared ... in fact Kiith’thal told me that Jental wasn’t really all
that afraid. Marisa was, but that is understandable and normal. It is really because they didn’t
understand. The Goddess is about much more than blood and death and the renewal of the
forest ... I’m sad because they could have had much more than they did.”
Kiith’thal saw a tightened expression on Bethany’s face, and believing their friend still didn’t
understand, she also tried to explain.
“I didn’t lie to you Bethany ... we love The Hunt, and we are very happy to be in the service of
Jajgin. But we wish that others were happy too. I know this doesn’t make a lot of sense to you
... but even those being Hunted can enjoy being Hunted. Our Lady is dark and she can be
frightening, especially to you humans, but she is not cruel or cold. She wants those who serve
her, all who serve her, to be happy in her love.”
Bethany stood very still, listening to their words.
“That is why we are sad and happy at the same time,” Nath’ra continued. “We have given the
blood of your friends to the great trees, given their lives to Our Lady. Their souls are now one
with her ... I promise you they know love and beauty now such as they never knew before. But
we wish they had known it before ... and known it as we killed them.”
Bethany was breathing rather quickly, and both lovers felt a small thrill of apprehension go
through them. They had never had to explain these things to so young a person ... and both
worried that they were scaring their friend. It would be so good to share something of their life
with someone outside the village, to finally find a human friend who would not turn away and
run.
Even their Elbans seemed subdued, thrumming gently, content to wait and see what would
happen. Neither bow fanned their passions ... but neither did they still them. The bows had been
feed, but they too longed for blood that was given in love.
“But ... everybody is afraid to die ... how ... I don’t understand,” Bethany said, her face confused
and afraid now.
As much as they didn’t want to frighten her away, neither lover would lie about The Hunt or
about Jajgin. Kiith’thal took a step forward, wanting to take her friends hand and reassure her,
but once more Bethany stepped back as well. Kiith’thal stopped her movements, and again so
did Bethany. Both priest and priestess were certain she was on the verge of bolting.
They could both well remember the fear when they had been called to The Goddess ... the fear
and shock of what they were being called to do. They had answered the call, found the courage
to join with The Lady of Blood, but it had been very frightening at first. How much more so must
it be for this young woman to hear these words, to know what her friends were when she didn’t
even have The Goddess calling her to.
“It’s not that they are not afraid Bethany ... you’re right, everyone is scared of death. But fear
can be ... oh it’s so hard to explain this to you. Fear can be good ... and so can pain. If a person
understands ... really understands what The Hunt is about ... then it can be good ... very good ...
for everybody.” Kiith’thal’s voice held it’s own touch of nervousness now. She too was struggling
to explain the eroticism and beauty there was to be found in blood and death ... how do you
explain such things is you don’t feel them in the first place? “Please Bethany ... I know it’s hard
for you to understand. But please believe me.”
“I do understand ... I think ... and I do believe you,” she said quietly, though she moved no
closer.
“We would never hurt you Bethany ... we love you ... you truly are our friend. We would never
harm you,” Nath’ra told her, thinking that perhaps that is what she feared ... that perhaps they
couldn’t help themselves.
At those words, Bethany’s fingers turned white on her staff, and her face turned away, her eyes
closing.
‘Oh Goddess ... please don’t let those have been the wrong words,’ Nath’ra thought.
“Bethany ... please ... we can see something’s wrong ... what is it? Are you scared?” Kiith’thal
asked her.
“Yes! I’m scared ... I’m sorry ... but I am,” she said, her face turned away still. They both saw a
single tear spill down her cheek.
“But we mean our words little friend ... we won’t hurt you,” Kiith’thal told her.
Bethany made a small sound, almost a sob, and whispered quietly ... words that the two Elves
were so shocked to hear that neither believed they heard them correctly.
“Even ... even if I wanted you to?” the woman asked, her voice trembling with fear.
END OF PART II