Chapter 102: A Disorienting Morning
Stryg woke to the chirping of birds sitting above the tavern. His eyes shot open, his pupils constricted and expanded erratically. His head felt stuffy and his mouth was dry. He could feel the warmth of the two naked bodies wrapped around him. He slowly craned his head to look at the women.
“What have I done?” Stryg swallowed.
Had he actually slept with two orcs? Sylvan tribes did not care much for the past, but if there was one thing they remembered it was the betrayal of the orcs. The goblins’ enmity towards them had not faded in the slightest the past 300 years. And yet, Stryg had just slept with not one, but two of them.
What had he been thinking? Sure, they were beautiful, their crimson skin was soft and they smelled nice. Or maybe he had too much to drink. Still, there was no excuse for his actions. He felt as if he had betrayed his ancestors.
“Gods, I’m an idiot,” he rubbed his temple.
Stryg sat up in bed and glanced at the “flowers” sleeping next to him. He should have stopped himself last night, but the women were eager to challenge him in bed. He was not about to surrender in a night challenge.
Stryg noticed the dozen empty bottles scattered across the floor of the room. Had he drank them all? The last thing he remembered was drinking his fifth bottle, while he clambered on top of one of the women and rode her for what felt like forever. After that, everything was a blur.
He studied the remains of last night’s activities. The pillows were nowhere to be seen, the blankets were torn to shreds, there was even blood on the bed.
“What… the fuck?”
Was that his blood? Stryg threw off the shredded blankets. He was uninjured, but both orcs were covered in scratches and bite marks. One of them had especially deep bites on her butt cheeks. There were half a dozen small pinpricks where Stryg’s small fangs had chowed down on the soft flesh. Specks of dried blood covered her bottom in evidence of last night’s rough activities.
Stryg frowned, he never bit Feli this hard during sex. Was he more aggressive while drunk? He wasn’t sure. One thing was for certain, the orc would not be able to sit on her bum for weeks. That and she would now have plenty of tiny scars on her butt cheeks. A small voice in Stryg’s head told him he should feel bad for the incident, but another, louder voice, told him he should feel proud, he had won the night challenge against two 6 foot orcs.
Memories of last night’s incident started coming back to him. The woman had been yelling, “harder!” Stryg had obliged and sank his teeth in deeper. Some part of his mind remembered the woman started crying out in pain or ecstasy. He wasn’t sure which, maybe it was both. That explained the blood at least.
For some inexplicable reason Stryg began caressing her butt. She mumbled something, half-asleep. Stryg pulled his hand back. What was he doing? They were his people’s ancient enemy, dammit. He needed to control himself. He glanced at the other orc, she was pale and unmoving. Was she dead?
“...Shit.”
Stryg focused his hearing. No. She was alive, her heart was still beating, but her breathing was weak. Why? He blearily tried recalling last night’s events. She had clamped her legs around his face in some form of attack he assumed. He had refused to give up.
Stryg remembered gripping her thighs and feeling her stamina slip away as her eyes rolled up. Had he drained her stamina? Had he actually managed to cast a grey drain spell while being utterly drunk?
The first morning rays of light crept through the window.
The hunt, he remembered.
He slipped out of bed and rummaged around for his clothes. His body felt horrible. He could not recall that last time he had been hungover. Now he understood why. It was awful. He found his clothes and put them on as quick as his addled mind could.
Stryg closed the tavern door behind him and rushed downstairs. He debated telling Loh about the Seregulus Hunt, but it would take too long. Not to mention, she might not let him go if she thought it was too dangerous.
Stryg ignored the bewildered glances of the few customers that were awake and left them to finish their morning meals. He pushed past the front door and jogged to the stables. Rhian was already awake. She was right outside the stables, practicing her lance skills under the guidance of Maximus.
“Good morning!” Rhian smiled at the sight of Stryg. She frowned, “Are you okay? You don’t look too good, no offense.”
“I couldn’t be better. We’ll have to postpone your training for now. We have somewhere to be,” Stryg squinted. The morning sun was brighter than he had hoped.
“Ah, right. I’ll go get my saddle,” Rhian nodded in understanding. She hurried back into the stables.
“Where might you two be headed?” Maximus asked skeptically.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell my master I’ll be back later this afternoon… I think,” Stryg said.
“I’m ready,” Rhian came back. Her saddle and harness were already attached.
“Great,” Stryg pulled himself up onto the saddle. He grit his teeth as his vision swam for a moment. “Let’s go,” he said under his breath.
“See ya later, Max. Thanks for the tips,” Rhian waved and trotted away.
“Stay safe,” Maximus called out. He shook his head as they disappeared from view, “Who am I kidding? Those idiots will probably get in a fight before noon.”
~~~
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rhian turned her head back.
“I’ll be fine, it’s just been a disorienting morning,” Stryg lifted the hood of his cloak to shield his eyes from the sun.
“If only it was a cloudy day,” Rhian said in sympathy.
Stryg suddenly had a wonderful and painful idea. He took off his hood, opened his eyes wide and stared straight at the sun. His eyes burned at the painful light for a brief moment. The world darkened to a pitch black with silver outlines. The pain in his eyes disappeared completely.
“Better,” he sighed in relief.
“Your irises, they’re big,” Rhian said in surprise.
“I guessed as much,” he nodded. “Let’s head to the hills south of the city.”
“Time for hunting, huh?” She smiled wryly. While she had been practicing her combat skills, she would rather not fight if it could be helped.
“Exactly,” Stryg grinned.
~~~
Rhian galloped through the dark streets, the light of dawn slowly creeping upon Mellow Bloom. Blue and purple flowers hung from practically every building they ran past, a reminder of the ongoing Bellflower Festival. Stryg never knew how much he appreciated flowers until now.
The flowers permeated the air with a simple yet sweet smell. It was a welcome change from the usual scent of sweat and dirt people trailed about.
Rhian reached the city’s southern bridge twenty minutes later. The guards did not bother to stop and question them. After all, the cloaked stranger was riding a highbred centaur, a privilege only for the wealthy.
As Stryg crossed into the green hills of Dusk Valley it struck him that he had forgotten to ask anyone about the Seregulus Hunt. He should have asked the orc women about the special event. They were residents of the city and would most likely know all the details.
Stryg sighed, it was another oversight on his part.
“Hey, Master, there are some people up there,” Rhian pointed to the top of one of the hills.
To Stryg, they all seemed like a bundle of silver outlines in a background of black. Nonetheless, he was beginning to be able to differentiate people within this strange vision. There was one particular person Stryg recognized.
“Let’s head up there,” Stryg said.
“I’ll scale the hill in twenty seconds flat,” Rhian wiggled her nose. “Hold on.”
“Here we go,” Stryg muttered. He gripped her reins.
Rhian yelled a warcry and charged up the hill as if she was leading a last stand against a horde of monsters. She thrust her lance in front of her, piercing imaginary enemies. She swerved around the grass, dodging invisible arrows. Stryg found himself grinning from her enthusiasm.
The men and women on the hill turned in curiosity at the sound of rumbling hooves. Rhian burst forth from the tall grass and skidded to a halt at the top.
“Victory!” Rhian trodded in a circle, her arms held high.
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“Well done,” Stryg smiled. He imitated Loh’s annoying habit and patted Rhian’s head.
She laughed brightly, “Yes! Recognize my greatness!”
“Rhiannon? Stryg?” Clypeus asked with wide eyes.
“I thought that was you.” Stryg hopped off Rhian’s back and walked up to the vampire.
“What are you doing here? What happened to your eyes?” Clypeus asked.
“My eyes are fine, don’t ask anymore about it. Is this not the meeting place for the Seregulus Hunt?”
“It is. I just didn’t expect to see you here. To be honest, I’m glad you are,” Clypeus walked up to him. “I hope you are not angry with me after yesterday’s incident.”
“Angry? I was angry with Maeve, not you. I thought you would be angry with me. I did try to kill one of your special ‘Veres’ people,” Stryg tilted his head.
“Maeve is not a Veres, but her mother, Alice, was. I rather not let her come to harm if I can help it,” Clypeus explained. “So, are you and I alright then?”
“I suppose.” At some point these past few months, Stryg’s feelings of dislike for the uptight vampire had begun to melt away. Now he saw Clypeus as a rival mage more than anything.
“Great,” Clypeus sighed in relief. “Because I was hoping we could team up for the hunt.”
“Team up?”
“Yeah, I mean... You do know how the hunt works, right?”
“Not exactly,” Stryg winced.
“It’s fine,” Clypeus chuckled. “I can give you the quick run down.”
“If you please,” Stryg nodded.
“Alright, where to start? Hmm. Well, first, let’s start with what this is all actually about. The Seregulus Hunt is a yearly event held during the Bellflower Festival in Mellow Bloom. Hunters gather from around the city in the hopes of hunting the deadly seregulus.”
“What exactly is a seregulus?” Rhian asked as she walked behind Stryg.
“Seregulusi are magical beasts native to the Rupture Mountains. They only come down to Dusk Valley during their mating season, which is at the end of summer. In other words, right about now. They’re hard to miss, seregulusi have the lower bodies of an enormous snake. They channel earth magic through their tail. It allows them to slither silently through the ground at incredible speeds. Their black scales are also as tough as steel. And if that wasn’t enough, their upper bodies are of a large feline cat, with long venomous fangs.”
“So, it’s dangerous, what’s new,” Stryg shrugged.
“Dangerous is an understatement,” Clypeus shook his head.
“Then why are you guys trying to hunt it?” Rhian furrowed her brow.
“Well, the seregulusi are incredibly aggressive during their mating season. They tend to kill a lot of travelers who are coming and going from Mellow Bloom. House Azol started the hunt in order to lessen their numbers in the area. The family will grant a small sack of gold and the title of ‘Supreme Hunter of Mellow Bloom’ to any team that manages to kill a seregulus.”
“Supreme Hunter, huh,” Stryg rubbed his chin.
“As nice as a sack of gold sounds, it doesn’t really seem worth dying over,” Rhian twisted her lips.
“It’s not, but there are a lot of commoners who could use that gold to better their lives. They’re willing to take the risk. Of course, I’m not in such a predicament. I’m only here for Nora,” Clypeus said.
“Wait. You mentioned teams?” Stryg glanced at the men and women standing a dozen feet from them.
They were all wearing green cloaks to blend in with the tall grass. Stryg spotted bows and spears they held beneath their cloaks.
“Yeah,” Clypeus nodded. “Since seregulusi are so dangerous, a rule was made that states hunters must move in at least pairs of two. Of course, most hunters still move in larger groups, like the ones behind us.”
“Which is why you want to group up with me?” Stryg asked.
“Exactly. I’ve personally never fought a seregulus myself, but Nora insisted that we join the hunt. She says now that she’s a mage it’s her duty to help her House with their seregulusi problem.”
“She’s loyal to her tribe, that’s good,” Stryg nodded.
“Yes, Nora is honorable, a trait that’s becoming rarer and rarer these days. Still, that’s not our current problem. The hunt is, it’s dangerous. Which is why I made sure Nora brought a retinue of Azol’s guards with her,” Clypeus said.
“Where is Nora anway?” Stryg looked around.
“She went on ahead, she’s just past the next hill over there, as is my own centaur,” Clypeus pointed to a nearby hill.
“Then what are you still doing over here?” Stryg asked.
Clypeus scratched his head, “Funny story, a coincidence really. My older sister, Gale, happened to be visiting Mellow Bloom.”
“Wait, your sister’s name is Gale? So, her full name is Gale Gale?” Rhian tried not to laugh.
“Gale of House Gale, but yes,” he admitted. “As you can guess, she was named after our founder, Lady Gale I. It’s a common practice among aristocrats to name their children after previous lords and ladies of the family, especially their founder. The current leader of House Veres is Lord Veres IX. And one day, when my sister becomes leader of my family, she will be known as Lady Gale VIII.”
“Yeah, that sounds annoying,” Stryg said.
He was thankful the Blood Fang Mothers had given him a unique name and not some repeat name with a number tacked on at the end.
“The real annoyance is my sister’s personality. She is quite skilled and she never forgets to point out my own inadequacies,” Clypeus sighed. “Anyway, Gale and I met yesterday and she heard that we were participating in the hunt. She said that I couldn’t protect Nora with my pitiful skills even with the guards to help and insisted that she come with us. So, here I am at the hunter’s meeting point, waiting for her to arrive.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Stryg turned to leave.
“Wait! If we team up then I can make up the excuse that the best mage in my class joined up with me and I had no reason to wait for her.”
“Best mage?” Stryg paused in his steps. He liked the sound of that.
“I mean, that’s what I’ll tell her. But, we can talk about the small details later,” Clypeus shrugged.
“It sounds like you just wanna ditch your nagging sister,” Rhian frowned.
“Details, small details,” Clypeus waved his hand. He glanced at the rising sun, “Damn, and here I was hoping it would be a cloudy day.”
Clypeus lifted his hood. Stryg noticed a design etched into the vampire’s green cloak. It depicted a woman, head bowed, holding an immense shield.
“What’s that?” Stryg pointed at the woman.
“That’s my House’s crest. It’s a depiction of our founder, Lady Gale I, The Unfaltering Shield,” Clypeus smiled proudly. “So, are you with me?”
Stryg looked up at the sun. To him it seemed like a ball of white paint bleeding across the black sky. It was a good day to hunt.
Stryg jumped onto his saddle, “Let’s go find us a seregulus.”
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