Heavenfall: Ascension of a Primal Hunter - #3 - Scorched Elk

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A month passed peacefully as Thorn continued his training and preparation for his final hunt. The Violet Strength Pills he received from Briar coursed through his body, strengthening it, but just as it always had been, the effects lessened with every passing day.

It was part of why the villagers thought him cursed by the Sky—a child that would never soar to greatness, and was destined to fall.

Thorn clenched a bone-carved dagger in his left hand until his knuckles turned white before breathing out, "It's time."

With the final preparations done. Thorn left the village.

Overhead, the clouds raged with snaking bolts of lightning and the thunderous roar that accompanied them, just the atmosphere needed to get the scorched elk out of hiding.

Thorn leaped from tree to tree, his body agilely maneuvering through the wilderness. His light steps brought him miles away from the village into a recessed spot where he sat atop a tree and waited.

Further in front, the entire stretch of jungle, as far as the eye could see, was a scorched black, with demolished trees and barren earth where life would struggle to survive. But this was the only way to hunt a scorched elk—a young one, at least.

Four great storms in a year, and each one would have the young elks appear to feed on the lightning and grow. Had it not been for Briar, Thorn would've had to wait until the next great storm, but instead, the time had come for him to rise.

Thorn bided his time. Stifling silence and the anxiousness that accompanied it swirled around his hiding spot, but his eyes focused on the charred landscape before him.

Finally, lightning struck. The snaking beasts of heaven slammed into the earth, causing it to tremble violently beneath their might.

Thorn tensed. Ears perked up as he curled his body tightly, ready to pounce.

Through the roaring thunder, a bugle sounded, not one made by man, but the animalistic call of an elk raging to go. It began as an eerily low-pitched growl, climbing until it was a piercing screech.

Barren soil flew across the sky as the beast dug out from beneath the ground. It stood quadrupedal and a head taller than Thorn. Its horns branched out, and from its furry body, a golden light snaked across it from its chest, not unlike the very lightning that struck the land.

"Yes!" Thorn cheered in a whisper. He pulled out his dagger and held it tightly, waiting for the elk's feeding to start.

As the lightning stormed, the elk sat at the center of the charred clearing. It raised its head and leaned it back, opening its mouth as a long whip-like tongue extended toward the sky, standing upright.

"Come on, almost," Thorn muttered, his eagerness blazing as he grasped the thick branch with his free hand.

No matter how firm-hearted a hunter was, Thorn was still but a boy of twelve—he teetered years behind where he should be within the tribe's hunter training, but a dam can only stop the flood for so long before it bursts.

And that time.

Was now.

Lightning struck the elk's tongue. Bolt after bolt until the creature's entire body was swelling with a golden glow, currents of electricity dancing around it.

The elk's eyes closed, and it mewed a soft and rhythmic sound. And with it, Thorn leaped off and rushed toward the scorched elk with dagger drawn.

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on his target as his thoughts echoed, 'One clean cut.'

Thorn knew—he only had one chance to succeed.

He rushed through the charred clearing and approached the elk fast and unrestricted. Once he was near enough, he jumped with all the strength he could muster and bridged the gap between himself and the elk.

With dagger firmly clenched, he whipped his arm in a chopping motion, but just as it was about to connect, a thick black bolt of lightning struck.

Stones and debris flung viciously from the forceful strike, and to Thorn's dismay, one stone struck his arm, causing the cut to veer off and for Thorn to pass the elk, slamming against the ground.

"Dammit, no!" Thorn muttered and turned to run.

The elk's eyes shot open, and it screeched a terrible noise that caused the ground to fissure. Colossal horns emerged, followed by a monstrous creature that overshadowed the sky.

It stood behind the young elk with a snarling grimace that reeked of bloodthirst.

If the young elk was a head taller than Thorn—its mother was a head taller than the entire village's palisades.

Thorn cursed his luck. 'Dammit, dammit, damned Sky, why must you forsake me now?' His thoughts were a malicious spiral of anger and annoyance.

His hunt had failed.

Without pause, Thorn ran, forsaking his dagger and everything else in the process. The mother elk rampaged, shattering the barren land beneath its fury before finally turning toward the escaping human and racing after him.

"Dammit," Thorn muttered. If only he were as strong as the others.

He escaped the charred land and leaped into the thick treescape surrounding it. Behind him, the mother elk continued rampaging in pursuit, but its slowness gave Thorn a wide breadth to maneuver away from.

Thorn scanned the area.

If he went left, he'd reach the village eventually, but should he lure the beast and face the humiliation? No!

If he went right, the mountain range could shield him, and a cavern would be enough protection until the mother elk calmed.

But the problem was: The mountains were forbidden ground for the tribe.

The snow-tipped peaks reached out desperately to touch the sky and attracted the ire of heaven, causing malevolent energies to swirl throughout it. Nobody knew what lay in the depths; not even the sages would hunt there unprepared.

But, it was his best chance.

Thorn looked back momentarily, seeing the colossal mother elk approaching, he quickly decided.

Death before humiliation.

He'd rather fight to the bitter end and survive with his might than resort to fleeing to the village. He took a deep breath and exhaled before turning right.

Just like the snow-tipped mountains, Thorn, too, would try and reach for the sky.

He would prove that he was not a cursed child incapable of resonating with the Primal World.

He would prove he was worthy of the Chief's love.

That was a promise.

Tears rolled down his cheek; the risks were enormous, and he had no idea where to begin, but the hunt would continue.

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