The Hunter's Pursuit

10. Departure

Jacob exhaled slowly, observing the two satchels that sat on his bed. He'd packed only what he knew he'd need during this hunt. In the first satchel, there was the logbook he'd kept himself since he was ten years old.

He was bringing his father's old logbook, detailing all of his hunts, the monsters he'd faced, and how they'd been killed. There had been room for one spare shirt and a pair of trousers. He was also taking scissors, thread, a few needles, and a small medical kit.

He'd also packed every book he owned that pertained to Ryujin. Those few books filled his second satchel entirely, meaning he would have to carry any weapons he wished to take. That wasn't an issue though.

He had already slipped a knife into his boot, sheathed a dagger at the back of his belt, and stuck a pistol through the front. His sword had yet to be sheathed. Its scabbard was buckled across Jacob's chest and rested in between his shoulders.

Jacob lifted the sword off his bed, running his fingers across the smooth blade. Within the metal shone the faintest trace of starlight, the thing which made this sword so special.

The hilt was wrapped in brown leather cut to mimic the shape of scales, while the pommel and crossguard were molded into leviathan heads. They resembled the same leviathan that was inked over the scars on Caspian's back, and stitched onto his personal flag.

Jacob perked up when a knock sounded at the door, but didn't turn even when he heard it open. Bran whistled low. "That's a beautiful sword, Jake. No wonder you tried to keep it hidden."

"Arlen," Jacob said when Bran came closer to look at it. "That is what I named it."

"What does it mean?" Bran reached down, gingerly feeling the carved metal of the crossguard.

"A promise, solemn and binding."

Bran's amber eyes flickered to his. "Why did you choose that name?" Jacob offered him the sword, not answering. After receiving an encouraging nod, Bran took the weapon and lifted it cautiously. "It's lighter than I expected." He touched the pad of his thumb to the edge of the blade. "Sharper too."

"It was made especially for me during the two years I was missing after the sinking of the Silver Oriole," Jacob said. "A gift from those who cared for me. They were the ones who helped me name it. I chose its name as a reminder of the promise I made to myself."

Bran returned the sword, still listening intently. Jacob sheathed it at his back and crossed his arms, not meeting Bran's gaze. "I vowed to never again kill a sea monster."

"Why?"

"I knew that if I did, I would be claiming its life out of revenge, not out of a desire to protect people."

Bran furrowed his brows. "But you agreed to go with Captain Flynn on this hunt. If you catch this beast, won't you have to kill it?"

Jacob combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. "With any luck, Cas will kill the beast himself. And if he doesn't, Viviane is there. I didn't bring her along just to help plan the hunt, after all."

"And if neither of them succeed and it's left up to you?"

Jacob met Bran's gaze. "Then I'll do what I have to, but I won't be the one to kill it unless I have no other choice. I never let anger drive me before and I won't start now."

Bran rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I wish you luck. It sounds like you'll need it."

"Thanks." Jacob pulled him in for a quick embrace, then gathered up his satchels. "I'll see you before summer's end."