Chapter Text
You are called to a small, sleepy town that resides on the edge of a dense forest. Which looks a lot like every other small, sleepy town you get called to in the country. The mayor and sheriff explain how there have been werewolf sightings every month for the past several moons and it has managed to slip past or even disarm the traps and glyphs set around the outskirts of town.
"It's a clever beast for sure. Every month it's gotten farther into our town, it won't be long until it's at our doors." The mayor sighs and exhales a cloud of smoke.
"Any casualties?" You write down possible theories and plans on how to take down the monster.
"Only some chickens; stole a whole deer from the butcher." The sheriff answers.
"And you want me to kill this monster?" You write the word non-aggressive in your book.
"Yes. Bring us the head and you'll be paid handsomely." The mayor hands over an envelope. You leaf through the contents to find about fifteen percent of the bounty, "This is just your incentive."
Even for a small cut of the profit, it's more than enough to pay for two weeks worth of food.
Technically you could just leave.
But the full bounty would have you set for months.
"I'll have you that head, quick and easy." You tuck the envelope and book in your pack.
"Thank you." Both the mayor and sheriff shake your hand and you're on your way.
When you walk to the outskirts of the town you immediately see what the mayor was talking about. Several complex traps had been dismantled, not broken, but meticulously taken apart and clearly scavenged for components. You take the remaining pieces and inspect them.
There's no sign of claw marks, but rather scratches from small tools.
Either this werewolf was insanely smart. Or they were working with a team.
Or it was someone in the town.
You leave the traps behind and continue on your way.
When night falls you head out again. This time deeper into the forest. The summer air has cooled down and the darkness around you is filled with the sounds of insects and animals. A small wisp of light floats by your head, faintly illuminating the area around you. You're on the alert for anything that seems odd, as well as any traces of magic.
As you tread deeper and deeper the wood becomes denser, to the point the moon no longer shines through the foliage. The air gets colder, the bugs go silent.
Shit
You draw your knife and slow your steps. The wisp fizzles out, leaving you in total darkness.
Distantly you hear footsteps crunching in the leaves.
Someone else is out here with you.
You stop moving and switch your knife for your small crossbow.
The distant steps get faster, closer, heavier.
And suddenly, it stops.
The bugs start to chirp again. An owl hoots in the distance. A deer scampers away frantically.
Whatever was there had vanished.
You lower your weapon slightly and keep moving.
"Probably got more than a werewolf out here." You mumble.
Finally your eyes adjust completely to the darkness. You watch silhouettes of animals dart between trees. The distant smell of a hunter's fire floats past your nose. And a prickling chill rolls under your skin.
Magic .
The hunter you trained under had taught you the forbidden arts of wild magic. Even though you weren't born to mages, learning the concepts of spells, curses, and enchantments left you with a wider understanding of the skill required to control the arcane. As well as a small arsenal of sigils you could use for simple things like creating light so you can navigate the dark and generating heat so your feet don't freeze when hiking through mountains in winter.
It also taught you how to sense even the lightest use of it.
But as soon as you've begun to register just what hex you've stepped into, your vision turns white and the world falls from under your feet.
You wake up to the sensation of warm blankets, birdsong, and early morning sun. Whatever trap you set off really knocked you on your ass.
The crawling chill returns under your skin.
You look to your side and see a small distilling set, several arrays drawn on papers pinned to the wall, and potion reagents hanging from the ceiling.
Ah. A mage ' s house.
It would explain the strange phenomenon you encountered in the woods. A spell gone awry. A hex trap set off. It makes sense.
Luckily they seemed nice enough to take you in to recover. You've met your fair share of impolite hunters, monsters, fae, etc. That would just leave you to wake up on cold hard earth coated in a layer of fallen leaves and dew.
The door knob turns and you sit up, alert and ready to run just in case.
"Oh, good morning. You're up! Good good." A young man says with a smile. He looks to be about your age, perhaps a year or so older, "You accidentally set off one of my glyphs. Sorry for the inconvenience."
He places a small tray of food on the table by the bed. A bland porridge and tea.
"No, no. It's my fault. I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't aware mages lived out here." You wave off his apology politely.
"They don't." He says, then after a long pause continues, "Well, except for me I guess."
You nod slowly.
"I'm Viktor." He introduces, sitting on the edge of the bed.
You give your first name. Despite the comfort this man is trying to give, you remain wary.
"What were you doing out there so late?" Viktor asks.
"Investigating. The town nearby says there's a werewolf roaming about." You see no reason to hide the truth. If anything the mage may have more insight for you.
Viktor's expression tenses a fraction, he clearly has an idea of what you're talking about.
"I can understand the concern from a mundane's perspective, but if a werewolf wanted to kill humans, it would have done so by now." You continue to explain.
"So what are your thoughts?"
You take a sip of tea.
O! Minty!
"Well. More likely than not, it's some average person cursed or born with lycanthropy who just wants to live their life. But you should know as well as I do that mundanes will jump at their own shadows." You chuckle as you finish speaking.
Viktor's expression softens again and nods in agreement.
"I hope to find them soon. Before the town takes to burning the whole forest or getting the entire hunter's guild involved. It would be a tragedy for an innocent life to end because of fear."
"Aren't you a hunter though?" He tilts his head ever so slightly.
"Yeah, I don't want to brag, but I'm one of the best out there."
Viktor scoots farther onto the bed and crosses his legs. He rests his chin in his hands and looks at you quizzically, "But you sympathize with monsters."
"Good hunters just kill, a great hunter understands the balance between the mystical and mundane. If I were to hunt every monster and mage that walked the earth, so much history and progress and discovery would be lost! Not to mention half of the guild would be killed as well."
You hand the tray back to Viktor, and smile.
His expression changes into something you can only describe as impressed .
He takes the tray and leaves the room without a word, but you can guess he'll be back.
You take this time to inspect the damage done to your body.
Removing the covers, you are greeted with your legs wrapped in thick bandages as well as gauze pads taped along your abdomen. Runes that you recognize for pain management are drawn over the wraps to keep the discomfort to a minimum. You give your knees a few test bends and are pleased to find that they still work and your legs are in working condition.
Carefully you stand up and take a few steps forward. When you've decided that you're able to walk you find your slacks (which look like they've been shredded) and head into the house.
The tingle of magic is everywhere. You hear a radio playing from down the hall and you follow the sound to a greenhouse attached to the main house where you find Viktor tending to various plants. Honey bees buzz around from flower to flower then fly out of an open window to a hive a few yards away. Viktor hums along to the music and taps his fingers on the cane in time.
"Seems like my first aid wasn't too bad." He laughs when you take a step into the greenhouse.
"Wraps are a bit thick, but I appreciate the sentiment." You find a stool to sit on.
"You managed to trigger one of my prototype glyphs. Meant to send out a flurry of ice shards that will deter intruders. However it seems it was too strong if it knocked you out."
"Might wanna workshop it."
He nods and returns to his plants, "I am glad you're feeling better. I have an issue that you might be able to help me with."
"Go on."
There's a deep sigh before he starts, "Are you familiar with Orchidae lunaris? "
You shake your head.
"It's more commonly known as the Moon Orchid."
You faintly remember reading about a plant with that name, but nothing really sticks out to you.
"It's a highly coveted flower for anyone who works in potions. Harvesting parts of it during different phases of the moon gives it different properties. A leaf on a new moon is great for making potions to enhance strength or virility. A flower during a full moon can create a medicine that heals like no other." He hands you a book filled with all sorts of information on rare flowers.
"Okay. So what do you need me to do?" You ask, flipping through pages.
"The apothecary in town has a small garden, in which lies such a plant. I need you to clip a flower from it on the full moon and bring it to me."
You stop reading, gears in your head now turning.
"I would do it myself but…"
"I never thought werewolves knew how to use magic." You interject.
Viktor looks away, shrinking in on himself.
"We don't," he says, "I just…collect and study a lot of magical items. I'm a scientist, researching the bridge between the arcane and the physical world."
It makes enough sense to you.
"Sounds interesting, I can see why you moved all the way out here for it." You stand and walk over to a small desk with runes carved into bone scattered across it, "Given the trap I set off I would assume you've made some breakthroughs. I would love to hear about it."
Viktor joins you and moves the bone shards into a small bucket then proceeds to tuck away some papers and books.
"If you get me that flower, I would be more than happy to tell you."
You hold out your hand to shake and he accepts.
"Deal."
Viktor invites you to stay for lunch. He mentions that his summer vegetables are absolutely delicious and that he had made some sweet tea with imported sugar he traded with a traveling merchant. Not one to turn up your nose at a free meal, you gladly accept and assist in preparing a fresh salad and setting the table while Viktor pulls apart leftover chicken from the night before and re-heats it over the stove.
The sheriff's note about chickens going missing resurfaces and you can't help but chuckle.
Viktor looks over his shoulder at you with a raised brow.
"Hunt that chicken yourself?" You ask, pouring drinks.
He rolls his eyes, "It flew the coop and ended up breaking a leg somehow. We wolves are opportunistic hunters you know."
You snicker and take a seat when Viktor brings over the pan. He helps himself to a portion of salad and mixes the chicken into the vegetables. The music on the radio keeps away the silence as you dig into lunch.
Lyrics you can't quite make out transform the small dining nook into a comfortable pocket in time. Handmade windchimes clatter softly in the summer breeze outside, various crystal samples glitter on a shelf where the sunlight shines just right, and Viktor is looking out the large window next to the both of you. Its panes are made of discarded glass that has been melted down and reformed, turning it into a swirl of blues and greens.
In the back of your mind you commit his profile to memory, taking great care not to miss features like the beauty mark under his left eye or the way his dark hair curls around slightly pointed ears. Soft amber eyes glitter in the sunlight and for just a second, your heart skips a beat.
"S-so Viktor. Why can't you just. Purchase seeds for this plant?" You break the silence, nervous about where your thoughts might wander to.
"Ah. The Orchid takes about twenty years to be fully grown. Not to mention it isn't the hardiest of plants. Luckily the buds are excellent at propagation, but it can still take up to ten years for a viable bloom to form." He sighs to himself, "And I do not have that sort of time."
You watch his expression fall into something of regret. However you do not want to press the matter.
Viktor rises to his feet and collects your dishes.
"I have a…another proposition for you. Would you mind stopping by tomorrow? You've been so kind to me already and it's refreshing to meet someone not afraid of me. I would also love to know more about what it's like being a hunter." He does his best to not look at you, but you can see the warm flush creeping across his ears and cheeks.
"Sure, Viktor. The full moon isn't for a few weeks anyways, and I would love to learn more from you as well."