The Hunt

0. Prologue

The winter was harsh, brutal; it bit at his skin and formed icicles on his antlers that filtered blue winter sun into prisms of rainbows across the snow. It was one of the worst he had ever seen, ice forming a thick barrier over the rivers and the land, coating it in sparkling white and spreading its icy tendrils deep into the earth. But the town of Yeuri — reduced to ash and cinders and smoke that dyed the oncoming droves of snow a deep onyx hue — would never see the worst winter in over a millennium.

The God huffed out a white cloud of breath, the steam evaporating into the air as quickly as it was expelled. His bones ached with age and the toll of his wrath, and so he combed through the pillars of trees, searching for one in particular.

A flash of light caught his eye and he turned to it on instinct. A soft blue Carader flitted from leaf to leaf before him, eyes focused on his sapphires, calling him. It smiled peacefully and beckoned him forth with a small hand. He cocked his head, interest piqued. It was not every day that the Carader called to him, the last being when he met the human woman with whom he had befriended.

He took one look over his shoulder. The path to the village was sure to be diverted if he followed this creature, but the Carader seemed urgent with its fluttering wings and insistent pointing in the opposite direction. He must have lingered for longer than the Carader liked, as it transported over and tugged on his ear. He shook it off, icicles dislodging and falling to the ground. The Carader moved to his antler, pulling him toward where it wanted him to go. He was bewildered at its insistence, complying with the bringer of fate as he began his walk. It chattered and clicked its tongue in a guttural, strange language, but seemed happy overall as the large shapeshifting God followed its commands.

His hooves crunched in the snow, traversing the ice like an expert. Perhaps he was. He had been roaming these forests for almost a thousand years at this point. He was an old God who knew his land well, knowing each facet of rock and each new tributary that fed into a larger body of water. He knew each village and the villages beyond this stretch of woods. He knew where the ice formed the worst and where it was easier to walk. And with each icy, difficult step, the Carader seemed to become more and more pertinacious.

The forest grew thicker the longer they ventured forth. The trees became as wide as they were tall with smaller spaces in between, causing the elk-God to have to maneuver his wide set of antlers between the trunks. And yet the Carader continued up the hill, giggling increasing as they got closer up to the top. When they reached the peak of the summit, it was then he heard it.

A cry.

A sob for help.

Whispering on the wind like forbidden secrets, the hoarse shriek drifted as though the Carader was directing the sound directly to his eardrums. Ears righting to an upward position, he scanned the forest, honing in on the noise. It was low, sad. On the verge of giving up.

Below the hill they stood, their cry echoing across the valley, now loud enough to make his ears ring. The Carader popped in front of his snout. He crossed his eyes to focus on the strange creature with five eyes and a spool of thread upon its back. It held up a dainty hand, directing his attention to where it needed to be. He watched as the hand pointed down the steep embankment, over the snow-covered reeds of a thin, iced-over creek, to a wiggling lump. The Carader transported further away, but the God did not follow it, only keeping his eyes on the bundled creature that fussed and whined and cried out with mighty lungs for help. Hesitantly, putting one foot in front of the next and stretching his neck out, the form of the baby's face came into view, eyes pinched shut, and tears becoming crystals on its dark countenance.

When the cogs in his brain finally began turning once more, he bolted into action, shifting seamlessly into his true form unconsciously. He matched the scenery with his pale flesh and white leather winter boots paired with his white winter shawl. He tripped momentarily as he reached the infant, nearly falling to the ground and blending into his surroundings. The Carader sat on the child's belly, petting its face, trying to soothe it with calming clicking noises.