The Hunt (East, Beast #3)

[Julius Auyn]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1a"]The things I do for you, Guin.  Julius could only hope that the crown of the Faewild rested as heavily as this heat. Wasn't the South Court supposed to be the place where even fae would sweat? But the East Court in the summer was well-nigh tropical—dazzling and alive with color, to be sure, but the least trustworthy place in all of Faerie and disgustingly humid besides. At least he wasn't chasing down the dragon with the rest. He'd gone ahead to the river, where it would swoop low (no need for archers, thank you, little prince), and begun preparing his traps.  In a way, the hunters themselves could act as bait for the hungry beast, but Julius preferred not to count on the reward of his own flesh risk. He emerged from the tree line onto the silt of the riverbank, where even the fae left prints, and cast a calculating eye over the dark river. Reflections shifted in its current, a swathe of stars here and then gone again. He kept an eye on it, waiting for the lights to be blotted out by the bioluminescence of a wingspan.                                                   Guinivere Marcel [newclass=.box1a]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #804a00;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 192 Notes: +10 (school of war)

credit to Laura of Adox + SeaJem

[Gemini Enigma]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1"] They were nearing the river now. Gemini could hear it rushing beyond the whisper of the trees. He wondered if he was imagining that it moved in time with his own bloodstream, or if the land was finally answering his birthright. The half-prince who made himself whole. The long lone days he'd spent in the palace library, scheming, waiting, nursing bitterness but pruning it to keep its levels constant, had finally borne fruit. It was better this way—that his ascent be of his own invention, not something arbitrarily given even if it was deserved.  The little command they'd had so far was ineffective now that the dragon was trying to flee. It would take tact to corner it. But he knew where it would run to. "Split off around the river," he told the others, looking back over one shoulder. "Half of the party to each bank. We can't have it escaping while we stand unprepared." Monsters were wily creatures, too often thought of only for their brute force. That was the game they played. They used fearsome strength to make the unwitting their fool, but the craft was the part that truly doomed you.  He didn't look back at Jin-hwa. She wouldn't have chosen to follow his faction. Besides, she could navigate the river like a well-worn path.  The memory of poison stung his senses. Fresh wounds. Gemini dialed his focus; never mind the rapier at his side, his mind was the weapon that he needed to stay alive.  The rushing grew louder, carrying with it the tang of silt in the damp air. As they advanced, the riverbank revealed itself in a line of darkness where the canopy slowly fell away, leaving only dark sky and darker water. Julius Auyn, Guinivere's consort, was on the opposite side of the river now, having lured the beast down. Gemini opted to keep an eye on the man. He wasn't quite clever enough to have landed himself in his current position, but he certainly thought he was, which made him far from worthy of Gemini's trust. He was like Alaric in that way—a man who thought a weapon made him a warlord, who thought a throne made him a king.  The respective gazes of the hunting party were drawn upwards as the current was suddenly drowned out by a sweep of wings. This was the closest Gemini had stood to any of the dragons thus far, poised on the riverbank as he was, and the gust of its wake blew his hair back from his face and droplets off of his skin, making it prick with a sudden chill. Did the full fae experience such sensations, such reminders of their physical oddities? This moment was too crucial to linger on the thought.  It was as if there were three skies full of stars now—one overhead, one in the river, and one in the glitter of the dragon's wings. Would those constellations die out when the monster did, or were they as functionally immortal as any other star? Would they be a legacy?  It was nearing its lowest point now, sailing towards them. At the head of his faction, Gemini plunged into the river, the sudden shock of cold water and stone biting but not halting his stride. At least his lower half wasn't particularly armored; it would have only weighed him down.  It would lunge for his extremities first, he knew, anything easy to grab, so he kept his arms close to his chest, rapier drawn. "Pin its wings!" he called, lunging to stand beneath the dragon's throat as it thrashed and roared. One sky of stars was broken now, the river a dark tumult of bodies and blood. The night was full of shouting, but Gemini's focus was narrowed. The dragon tried to sink its teeth into his shoulder and was mostly stopped by his feather-like pauldrons, though Gemini released a pained breath at what would at least become an ugly bruise.  Concentrate. He stabbed upwards into the dragon's neck, the soft chink between its scales, and was rewarded with a gush of blood over his front as the creature writhed, gold like the ichor of the mortal gods. Mortal gods. What an oxymoron. And yet it was what the fae so clearly believed themselves to be. Too many of them had seen their king snuffed out by poisoned wine to still believe that they were invincible. They only put off their demise for centuries more than a human might.  The dragon wrenched itself away from his blade with a howling roar and flipped entirely onto its back, throwing several of the fae onto the stones and Gemini into the water. He lurched up, gasping, shoving his sopping hair from his eyes. "Good, good! Keep it there!" he shouted. Was this what it was to be a king? The secret his father had refused to learn, the thing unearthed in an empty library?  Guinivere was at the palace still. She wasn't here for him to ask her.  Jin-Hwa Mei , mentioned: Guinivere Marcel [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 840 Notes: if anyone objects to the slight god-mod, I'll change it.  +6 damage

credit to Laura of Adox

[Jin-Hwa Mei]

Gemini Enigma
Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov  & Vĩnh Lý

Jin-Hwa could feel the heartbeat in her chest as she ran.

She was to the east of the creature, on its left side, standing in the river. The creature was flying towards her, trying to flee the fae chasing it, splashing up water. That prince-- she couldn't even look at him without her vision tinging red-- was fighting it. She gripped her blade tighter. This kill would not be for him.

She could see the path like it was lined with gold. She took off running, in the water, parting it for herself like she was a prophet with a planned route. She set one foot on the dragon's wing and pulled herself up, her hands catching on its scales. They were smooth and warm and sharp around the edges. Her hands were soon bleeding all over its side. 

Undersea steel was the only thing that could pierce dragonhide, and she had brought it. The last two victors had killed it by hitting it in the mouth like great warriors of old. She would take no such roundabout ways. She was going from the heart.

The dragon was on its back, and she pulled herself up to its stomach, ducking its moving claws and snapping teeth.  The going was not level or easy. She was shaking with exertion. But when she got to the heart, she dropped to her knees. She could feel its pulse echoing through her like thunder.

The weather must have sensed her mood, the apprehension in her breath. This cut would have to be decisive, final. Her weight was too slight against the fae battering the creature to be noticed, but when she cut it, the thing would struggle. So she would have to kill it fast. Storm clouds gathered overhead. It started to rain.

She raised her curved blade, and in one movement, plunged it straight down into the dragon's chest and then sloping back up, slicing the heart free of its veins. Gold blood shot out around her and onto her, covering her face, staining her armor. The thing shrieked and bucked. She reached into the hole she had made and grabbed the heart, holding onto it as the dragon writhed, unable to flip over from those pinning its wings.

Once she was steadier, she switched back to her knife. Still holding the heart with one hand, she used her knife to finish the cut and slice the heart out. Now the heart was disconnected. She gripped the dragon's scales instead, holding on for dear life, waiting for it to stop struggling, watching the giant gold monstrosity that was its heart stop beating. When it finally stilled, she reached down with both hands and pulled it out. There was blood all over now. Rain drenched her, making her hair wet, washing the blood off her. It would take a long time. There was so much blood. Her hands, her forearms, her knees, her face. It was no clean kill, but it was a fair one. 

+5 damage, school of war; Total of 10
Weapon; Armor Aesthetic

Damage Report 73 Damage Points have been done. 0 Points are left. The Dragon Has Been Killed By Jin-Hwa Mei 0/125