Hunted
By StormDrake

Between two jagged cuts in the face of an ancient mountain ran a slightly less-jagged path. It was only a few feet wide, and kept in shadow by rough stone walls which extended close to ten feet into the air on either side. It ran up from the base of the mountain to a flat plateau at the top, a good mile or two. At the base of the mountain, the cleft was barely visible, hidden behind a pair of ancient fir trees. It made its way up to the plateau, winding and twisting like all hidden paths do, before opening up at last upon the mountain's summit. But the prize for finding and navigating such a challenge was indeed worth the effort. At the top of the mountain, in the middle of the plateau, was a large building, two floors high with many windows. It was old; far older than the spruce trees, seemingly as old as the great mountain itself. Its doors had long-since rotted away to nothingness. It was indeed an old building. But it was special. Few people knew that it even existed. But to the three people who lived in it, it was more than just an ancient structure. It was home. It was Haven.

It was Paradise.

Aimee made her way slowly down the path. On her back she wore her bow and quiver, as well a backpack and a length of rope. In her good hand was a stout ax. The path was rough, marred with pebbles and small rocks, but her underbelly was covered in hard yellow scales, so it didn't bother her too much.

Sometimes being half-naga wasn't that bad.

The majority of her body was covered in green scales - scales that matched her eyes. Her tail was a good twelve feet long from the waist, strong and supple. Her underneath was covered by the large yellow underbelly plates of a serpent, which extended up to just below her chin. Her right arm and head were human, while her left arm was covered in scales. Her left hand was little more than a scale-covered mitten. Her hair was thick and red, tied back in a bun so as to keep it off her neck while she worked.

Aimee slithered along, enjoying the cool shade while she could. She had a job to do, and the sooner it was done the better.

After almost thirty minutes, Aimee came to the bottom of the path. She slithered between the spruces and into the oak forest surrounding the base of the mountain. She traveled for some time, looking at each tree she passed. Eventually she came to an eight-foot tall oak. It was not as thick as some of the other trees, but was stout for its height. Cut into boards and bound together, it would make a good front door. And it was about as much as Aimee could carry.

She set to work, taking the ax in both hands (as best as she could with her bad hand) and swinging it into the base of the tree. Again and again she swung, slowly but surely cutting into the trunk of the oak. It was a tough tree, and Aimee wasn't the strongest of people in the world, so it took some time. But, an hour later, she had the satisfaction of being able to call out "timber!" moments before the tree came crashing to the forest floor. It brought a smile to her face. Then, though tired, Aimee then set out to chop off the smaller branches and foliage at the top of the tree. It took a total of two hours before she was ready to cart it off, back to Haven. She took the rope and tied it around the tree, then took the rope over her shoulder, and set out to drag six feet of oak back up the path to the building at the top of the mountain.

She made it about six inches before stopping.

Aimee had hunted monsters for years - a profession where one mistake too often meant death - so she was attuned to subtle signs of another creature's presence. Therefore, when she heard a small muffled snap from the depths of the forest, her instincts immediately took over rational thought. She let the rope drop lightly from her hand. Aimee reached behind her back and silently took her bow. She reached back and drew an arrow from her quiver. Nocking her arrow, Aimee peered about, searching for signs of movement among the trees. She saw nothing, nor did she hear any further sound.

An arrow suddenly struck the tree in front of her, exactly at head level. It bore blue feathers at its end. Aimee ducked instantly, and looked in the opposite direction from the arrow. She still saw nothing.

"Dammit..." she swore under her breath.

The arrow stuck out from the tree at a slightly downward angle. That meant it had been shot from a higher altitude than ground level. A tree. Aimee looked along the path the arrow would have taken, and still saw nothing. There were too many trees, all of them tall and leafy. She would never be able to see her attacker from where she crouched.

Another arrow flew into the ground next to her tail. Aimee started, and looked at the arrow. This one has a small roll of parchment attached to it. She quickly grabbed the roll and opened it, clueless as to what it could be. On the parchment was a single word, written in black ink.

Run

But Aimee stayed where she was. She still had her bow and arrow ready. She had no idea who or what was hunting her, but it couldn't be just a monster. Whoever or whatever it was that was taunting Aimee, it could write. It was intelligent. It might have been a human, a Hunter, someone who went around killing blood mutants and monsters. Aimee herself had hunted monsters. But if this were a Hunter, he or she should have killed her by now. Hunters were brutally good at their job: killing monsters and blood mutants. Aimee was afraid to move, for fear of exposing herself - if she wasn't exposed already. Regardless of what the note said, she was not going to run. That's what her attacker wanted her to do. So she lay there, completely motionless save her eyes, scanning the forest for signs of movement.

Nothing moved. She sat there for what seemed like an hour, but there were no further arrows. I'm being hunted, she thought to herself. Like a monster...

The wind blew pleasantly through the trees. In any other situation, Aimee would have enjoyed the balmy weather. As it was, she prayed that she would be able to see another day.

The wind inevitably shifted, so that Aimee was now downwind. She carefully inhaled through her nose, hoping to catch some scent or clue of her adversary's whereabouts. She hadn't inherited a serpent's superior olfactory powers, but years of hunting monsters had taught her some tricks. Any smell would be a plus. Anything she could learn of her opponent would help her.

Aimee detected nothing special in the breeze. It smelled of oak and pine.

She continued to sit there for some time, thinking to herself. She hoped Tara wouldn't come looking for her. The chimaera girl was intelligent, so might assume something had happened to Aimee when she failed to return on time. But Tara would have no idea what was going on, and would only get herself killed. Not that Aimee was doing any better.

From the darkness to her left an arrow came flying, striking her tail with a dull thwack and a bolt of pain. Immediately Aimee was moving, instincts preempting rational thought, darting forward with the sudden speed of a striking snake. The hunter had moved. Aimee's bow was out, her own red-feathered arrow ready. She kept moving, never in a straight line, but weaving back and forth. She varied her speed and direction, assuming she was being hunted with similar methods to those she used to hunt monsters herself, and concentrating on countering those methods. She moved as silently as possible, listening to the sounds behind her. She never even bothered to remove the arrow from her tail; as much as it hurt, it would take too long to remove without losing the head. And she would bleed even more than she was now. A crimson trail would not help her in the slightest.

She was in pain, but Aimee suddenly whipped around, and darted in almost the opposite direction. She moved diagonal to the way she had come, hoping her attacker had been following her straight. It would be suicide to head towards the hunter; he or she would have an arrow ready for Aimee's heart. She saw no signs of her pursuer, but another arrow striking the tree next to her head reminded her of the danger and told her the direction her enemy lay.

If I don't do something fast, I'm going to end up killed, she thought to herself. Escape was out of the question; she would be shot in the back for sure the moment she left the cover of the forest. Her options were limited. This was obviously an experienced Hunter. Hunters were adept at predicting the behavior of their quarry. Why he had teased her before beginning the hunt proper, Aimee hadn't the slightest notion. But whoever he was, he wasn't playing now. She needed an edge. Aimee would have to do something totally against what her attacker expected her to do.

"Time for a change of tactics," she muttered.

Aimee charged - in the direction the arrow had come. She kept her bow and arrow at ready, her eyes sharp and on the lookout. She shot an arrow into the darkness, and nocked another. Her instincts screamed within her skull. But the more she felt she was doing the worst thing she could, the more she knew she was doing the best thing she could.

She sped through the forest - a serpent is capable of great speeds when necessary, and Aimee was no exception. Possessing a tail rather than legs, she had no fear of tripping over a root or log. She hoped that the Hunter had no such luck.

An arrow flew by her head; another struck a root a foot away. But these were not the well-aimed shots she had had to contend with earlier. They were almost frantic shots. She knew it was only a matter of time before one hit her, though, so she kept up the pace. But she couldn't help but smile. She was nearing exhaustion, and the arrow in her tail hurt more than she had thought possible. But when faced with death, intelligent creatures are often capable of amazing feats of strength and endurance. Aimee didn't think about the pain or the exhaustion. All her senses were focused in front of her.

Far ahead, she saw a branch swing back into place.

She was gaining.

Aimee could see the movement ahead of her, so she followed it. Bushes and branches that had seconds before been pushed out of the way would return to their original position, and it was this motion that Aimee followed. Until a second later, when she actually saw a shadow jump behind an ancient oak.

Aimee twisted to the side and shot her arrow. It flew at the shadow as it appeared on the other side of the tree, and missed its arm by inches.

The shadow was definitely humanoid. And it was scared.

Buoyed by the sight of her attacker, fresh adrenaline surged through Aimee's veins. She bolted, putting all her strength into catching whoever had tried to kill her. Finally, she had an opening. Pulling an arrow from her quiver as she ran, Aimee nocked it and aimed. She let loose the bowstring, and the arrow plunged into the shadow's shoulder. There was an involuntary cry of pain - definitely male - and the figure jumped to his left. However, his mind concentrating on the pain for a brief second, his foot landed wrong, and he fell. The Hunter fell to the forest floor with a yelp of pain, dropping his bow. By the time he made ready to rise, Aimee was over him, another arrow aimed at his throat.

The man was silently defiant, but scared. His dark eyes betrayed fear. He was older than Aimee by several years, but still relatively young - mid-twenties, perhaps. An elder Hunter would have killed Aimee before she even realized he was there. The young Hunter's taught mouth was drawn tight. Sweat beaded on his face, framed by black hair in a brown cap. His chest expanded and contracted rapidly, his lungs trying to replenish oxygen spent in flight. Aimee wasn't doing much better. But she was not about to let her guard down yet. Not for a Hunter. She continued to hold the bow at ready, her arms burning almost as much as her tail.

"Who are you?" she spat, fear turned to ruthless spite. "Why the hell were you trying to kill me?"

The man was silent.

"Answer me, dammit, or so help me God, I will kill you where you lay. And don't think I won't; I've killed for far less than an attempt on my life, I promise you."

"My name is Ryan," flung the man at last. "I'm a Hunter. And you better kill me now, or else you can be sure I will kill you later."

Aimee knew that she should have let the arrow loose into his throat. A week ago she would have done so without a second thought. But Tara had taught her that death was not always the best recourse. So she tried a different tactic.

"Get up," she growled, backing up slightly. She kept the arrow pointed at his head.

Ryan, slightly confused, rose hesitantly.

"Now drop your gear. All of it, especially the quiver and arrows."

Obediently, the Hunter did as he was told. He placed his quiver on the ground, near the bow. He detached a short sword from his waist and did the same. Finally he took off his backpack and tossed it with the other objects. He took a step away from his things and looked at the naga woman.

Aimee relaxed - but only slightly. "Why are you a Hunter? Why do you feel a need to kill monsters and blood mutants? What have we ever done to you?"

Ryan looked at her with contempt. His response was filled with disgust, but sounded half-memorized. "Because you are all threats to humanity itself. Monsters attack and kill humans, or worse. They take away the very things that make us human. They must be killed to protect humanity. And blood mutants aren't much better. They can do the same things to humans as monsters. At the very least, I put blood mutants out of their misery. I save them from a fate worse than death."

"And how do you know I don't want to live as I am," retorted Aimee, hearing the same words she had sworn by three years earlier.

"Oh, tell me you are happy with who you are. Tell me that you would rather be a freak of nature than a human being. I have had blooded thank me for killing them. I have also killed blood mutants who hated humanity for having what they didn't. I have killed blood mutants who dedicated their lives to the conversion of every human they came across into monsters. I would have killed you, had I not made a mistake and stepped on a dry twig. I decided to give you a chance. I see now that this was my undoing. But the moment you give me an opening, I will reconcile that error and kill you, you beast."

Aimee's anger rose. "How can you be so intolerant? I am the same as you! Just because my form is different, that doesn't mean I am less of a person than you are! I've never blooded anyone. I've never desired to transform others. When I was blooded, I dedicated my life to killing other monsters, to save humanity from them. For two years I hunted griffons and nagas. I even killed a unicorn once. All it did was stand there, drinking from a pond. It never knew what killed it. One arrow to the neck, that's all it took. A unicorn! It probably never even saw a human. But I was so intent on my personal quest to pay back all monsters for taking my life away, I didn't care. I loved it. Seeing the unicorn there, dead, made me happy."

"Then I have some respect for you, at least." said Ryan, crossing his arms. "You did better than most. But your existence is still a threat to humanity."

"Not if I live out here, away from humanity. I can't speak for all blood mutants. But personally, I wouldn't mind if I never saw another human again. I'm happy out here. Maybe some blood mutants deserve to be killed. But not everyone."

"So what do you want me to do? Stop hunting? Stop protecting my species? Let my entire village become blooded?"

"No! Protect yourselves. But don't kill for the sake of killing. Think for once from your prey's point of view. The reason you didn't kill me is because you don't know how to think like prey. A true hunter can predict his prey's movements because he knows what the prey it thinking. As soon as the tides were turned you didn't know what to do, and made too many mistakes. You have to be able to understand the predator/prey relationship completely."

Ryan remained silent, seeming to be thinking to himself. Finally, he said, "So why are you telling me this? What good do your words do if you are going to kill me?"

"I'm not going to kill you if I don't have to," said Aimee at last. "I'm giving you a chance."

"To what? To change? To end my Hunter ways and become a farmer?"

"No. You can keep hunting monsters, for all I care. I still hate monsters. But I don't think I can wantonly kill them anymore. I learned to think of things from the other end, and suddenly I could no longer kill monsters simply because they existed. You can still hunt monsters. But realize that blood mutants are people too. It's not their fault that they are as they are. Give them some credit for not having killed themselves."

Ryan pondered this. "As... as much as I hate to admit it, your words bear wisdom. But... but I cannot just let blood mutants wander around villages. They are still a danger to humans. And if I don't kill them, someone else will."

"You're right," said Aimee. She had almost defused the situation, but she needed an exit. Sudden inspiration dawned. "But what if there were a place where blood mutants were welcome, a community of mutants far from humanity? What if you told every blood mutant you found to go there? That way they would leave the area peacefully, without bloodshed, and better themselves somewhere away from humans?"

"Why would they leave their homes freely?"

"Do they have an alternative?"

"Good point." Ryan turned and thought. Aimee no longer felt the need to keep an arrow aimed at his throat, but she kept it up for appearance's sake. He seemed lost in thought. Aimee knew that there was great turmoil in his head. Hunters had to have no qualms about killing blood mutants, for fear of losing their edge. But this one was young, and hadn't quite come to terms with such a hard-line attitude. Still, Aimee realized that he was having a difficult time accepting the truth of her words. Hunters were very smart, and had a strong code of honor. Most Hunters would suffer disgrace before they uttered a lie. And as absolute as they tended to be regarding the fate of monsters and half-monsters, they were still honorable people. Aimee knew she had struck a chord. And finally, logic seemed to win out. The Hunter turned to Aimee and smiled. "This is difficult for me to accept, but I cannot doubt the wisdom of your words. It would definitely be an alternative solution. But I must still hunt monsters... unless you want them to come to your... haven."

"No! Kill them, for all I care. I'm still not ready to accept monsters. Maybe one day I won't hold such animosity towards monsters. But right now, I don't care."

"So be it. And I also reserve the right to kill any blood mutants who directly threaten human lives."

"Agreed. You'd probably do the same to rogue humans, if it was your duty. Besides, if they attack you or other humans, or attempt to purposefully blood others, then they're probably not the sort of person I'd want to live with."

It was like haggling over the price of a necklace or bag of grain.

"Very well. If I meet a blood mutant who is so inclined, I will have them go to wherever this... this Haven of yours. If they chose not to go, it is not my responsibility, and I will met out justice as a Hunter."

"Of course. I'm not asking you to bend over backwards for blood mutants. Just give them an opportunity to live, like I'm giving you. Some might want death… I hate to say it, but in some cases, a mercy killing would be acceptable. I certainly used to think so. But don't kill those who neither want it nor deserve it. Let them have a choice."

"And monsters have a choice?"

"No." Aimee turned away, her bow lowered. She knew he would not attack her. "They lost their choice the day I lost my humanity."

The Hunter smiled. "In all my years of being a Hunter, I have never met a blood mutant quite like you. My name is Ryan, son of Reagan, and I give you my Word as a Hunter that I will do as I have promised."

The Hunter grabbed the arrow lodged in his shoulder, and gave it a swift pull. To Aimee's surprise and admiration the arrow came out, head still intact. Ryan turned to his belongings. He took out some bandages from his backpack and quickly covered his wound. It wasn't terrible, having hit only flesh. After he was done, he put on his quiver and backpack, returned his scabbard and belt to his waist, and put his bow over his shoulder. "To where should I direct any blood mutants? Where is this Haven?"

"You must promise never to tell another human the location of this place," said Aimee.

"You have my Word as a Hunter."

"About a thousand feet from here, at the base of the mountain, is a pair of spruce trees. They hide the entrance to a path that leads up to a plateau atop the mountain. There may be found Haven."

Ryan nodded. "I will remember that." He turned to leave, but paused. "Farewell, naga woman. May you live a long life, though I can scarce believe I speak these words. You would have made a great Hunter."

"My name is Aimee," she said after him as he returned to the shadows of the forest. "And thank you."