I Am Myth

Hunting Hunters

Brian surveyed the sight before him: twenty men making camp for the night. Flimsy tents were erected that Brian knew would not survive a single night windstorm, of which there were many. Each and every man had a sword at the ready, and some had bows laid carefully down where they were out of the way, but close enough to grab. Brian spotted Cohen; he was one of the closest hunters to Brian, though he was still a good thirty feet away.

Brian took a deep breath and prayed that he would not die this day, then he slipped out of the cover of the trees and advanced towards the camp.

The murmurs and whispers of the camp suddenly died off as the people watched him approach. Suddenly all bows were of the ground and arrows were suddenly nocked. Each arrow's deadly tip pointed towards the stranger in the deer-skin robe.

Brian smiled slightly, somehow keeping from fleeing back to the cover of the woods where he knew he could escape. Instead, he walked on till he was but ten yards from the first tent in the encampment.

"Would you mind lowering your arrows?" Brian asked in a voice that was soft and friendly, yet echoed through the entire camp, causing curious eyes to linger upon him, and some arrows lowered.

"Stand ready!" One of the hunters, who appeared to be in command by the instant result of the arrows being once again aimed for Brian's chest.

Brian chuckled. "I take it you're the leader?" Brian asked, though he did not wait for an answer. "Good, I thought that Dolan would be the death of me. Where it he by the way? I wish to slap his sorry face."

This comment was met, to Brian's surprise, with some murmurs of agreement around the crowd.

"Dolan died but three weeks ago." The man in charge answered. Then he looked Brian up and down, scrutinizing every detail. "You seem to know the hunters well. Who are you, traveler."

"I am not a traveler," Brian corrected him, "I am a survivor, and a hunter such as yourselves, or at least I was once considered one." With that, Brian removed his hood. The hunters looked at his face, something seemed familiar. But something was different. Not only did this man carry now himself with the stealth and dignity as a hunter leader, but his eyes were keen and he looked as though he had a trusty army behind him. But there was some things the same; his blue eyes were still as bright as years ago, as if he had not aged at all, and his blonde hair still swept messily over his eyes and swayed easily in the wind.

"Brian!" Cohen suddenly gasped, abandoning his drawn sword to run up to his friend. They embraced in a hug and Cohen rustled his friend's hair. "Brian, I thought you dead for this long! Why hadn't you returned after all this time, you are obviously well."

"I did some hunting of my own." Brian replied. Then he turned to the camp and looked upon it with his keen eyes. "If you're going to hunt mystics, than I would suggest you supply yourselves better." He smiled at the crowd's curious faces. "I would speak to your leader."

"Then come," The man in authority beckoned him, and they moved into the middle of the group.

"My names Jason, and I am the leader here. Now, survivor, what do you think you have that we don't?"

Brian's face took on a mysterious smile and he answered loudly, so the whole crowd could hear. "These mystics, they are smarter than you give them credit for." Brian walked in slow circles around Jason, "they are keen and loyal to each other. To beat them you would need equal loyalty and greater sacrifice."

"And what do you mean by that?" Jason growled, growing annoyed with this man.

"What I mean is, if one of them were to catch you and threaten to kill you, would your men lay down their weapons to save your life?"

"Yes." Jason answered with no hesitation, and the word was echoed by his followers with such a loyal demeanour that Brian regretted that these were his enemies.

"Good," Brian stopped his circling behind Jason and leaned close, whispering a few words in his ear; "Because you're going to meet the mystics soon."

With that, Brian gripped Jason behind the neck, right on the pressure point. Jason cried out in pain and surprise as Brian pushed his blade against the man's throat. "Drop your weapons!" Brian commanded with such fierce authority that some did as they were told.

The men behind him quickly readied their bows, or, if they had none, their swords and charged Brian, but a blur of fur crashed into them, and the Dragon swept down to protect Brian from the arrows.

"I will ask but one more time," Brian's voice raised above the shouts of the surprised hunters, "drop your weapons, and not one of you will be killed by our hands."

This time his command was met by the dropping of metal swords and wooden bows, and Dragon swiftly collected the weapons into a pile. Those who ran were tackled roughly by Dragon or Wolf, and the weapons were pinned under a spider web, thanks to the giant spider that's presence dared anyone to attempt at reclaiming their weapon.