Heavenfall: Ascension of a Primal Hunter - #5 - Blessing Upon a Curse

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Thorn lay in a sprawling abyss, gazing at the shimmering stars above. The weightlessness of his body drifting through the unknown enveloped him tightly, a shackle and a shielding grace.

He watched as a herd of scorched elk walked through the void, feeding off countless world's energies.

He saw the obsidian centipede's ravaging lifeless rocks drifting through the void.

He witnessed the greatness. Shadows of creatures and worlds beyond comprehension, an entire system of life that transcended everything he knew to be true—a system that made him seem so insignificant in comparison.

A dream it may have been, but it still filled the boy's head with a desire so great it burned.

Within the Chief's tent, Thorn thrashed, the feverish sweat drenching the furskin rug beneath him.

The Chief placed his hand atop Thorn's forehead and pressed down, a calming energy emanating from his palm, causing the restless boy to calm beneath its surging power.

Thorn's eyes jolted open, and he shifted his gaze from left to right. He saw the Sage, and instinctively, he thought to jump, but the Chief pressed down firmly and held him laid out on the rug.

"Relax, kid," the Chief said. "You're safe now."

"Chief...what happened? No!" Thorn blared, "My hunt!"

The Chief slapped Thorn's head with a firm but caring strike. "You fool, should you be worrying about that when you nearly lost your life by causing a territorial spat between two regional overlords?"

"You know how difficult hunting is during the great storm, and yet you still recklessly ran at the scorched elk without preparing sufficiently. Did you set traps? What about energy-dissipating powder to stun it during its feeding period? You've got a mind that can surpass everyone in the tribe, yet you let those muscle-headed fools pollute your intellect," the Chief nagged relentlessly.

"I- I'm sorry, chief," Thorn said, lowering his head ashamedly. "Perilla and the others always say the tribe has no place for a hunter who has to rely on tricks instead of his strength to seize victory."

The Chief slapped Thorn yet again. "And you listened to those fools?"

"Alright, alright, you've nagged enough, Alder," the Sage said. "We have to be quick about this, explain to him the truth, and send him away."

"I know, you damned Fox," the Chief huffed.

The man turned toward Thorn and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "Listen, Thorn, you screwed up tremendously with that scorched elk hunt," the Chief said with annoyance, but his voice seemed laced with pride just the same. "Despite your failure, you've awakened the blessed blood of the Skyfallen. During the battle, you resonated with the Primal World and spread your wings for the first time, leaving the realm of common hunters and becoming someone—far more valuable in the process."

"Chief... What are you talking about?" Thorn questioned in confusion. He tried to prop himself up, but the Chief pressed down on his shoulders.

"Kid, listen."

The seriousness in his voice intensified as he turned toward the Sage, who nodded and outstretched his arm, causing barely perceptive energy to spread and surround the room.

"Thorn, I understand that you don't remember, but focus," the Chief said. "The tomes—you remember the tomes the Sage speaks of each dawn? They are but the surface of humanity's great history. Man used to be king! We used to be the pinnacle, soaring through the skies on behemoth beasts that could carry hundreds."

"Aquatic titans existed so massive that thousands of men, women, and children could cross endless waters to get to their destination."

"But now... Humanity suffers! At least, that's what most think. There is a secret, however," the Chief said, his voice lowering to a hushed whisper. "Within the depths of the beast-filled lands, an ancient hunter discovered a journal speaking of the Skyfallen—a human who fell from the heavens, painting the sky with his blood and blessing humanity with a power buried soul-deep.

Thorn watched and listened. His mind raced, processing the Chief's words one after the other, each striking heavily against his beliefs and what he knew was true. But Thorn knew the Chief wouldn't lie to him.

"Now, Thorn," the Chief whispered, "The problem is, once a Primal Hunter resonates with the Primal World and awakens the Skyfallen blood inside them—they must leave their village and tribe and head toward the center of the continent."

"Chief, but why?" Thorn questioned.

His eyes trembled, and he choked down the emotions inside him. He's been trying to prove himself to everyone, and now he had to leave?

"Why must I leave? If I can grow stronger, shouldn't I stay and protect our people?"

"No, boy!"

The Sage walked up and interrupted. The man pulled down his cowl, revealing an aged face half grooved from deep wrinkles and the other half scarred by a flame that burned deep.

"You are still powerless. Your body has been plagued since the day we found you, by a curse so deep that none of our methods could cure it. By awakening, you've unshackled some of this burden, but with it, boy, you're at far greater risk."

"The ol' Fox is right," the Chief said. "Those with the pure blood of the Skyfallen will cause all of the Primal World to gravitate toward them. Behemoths that tower over all of life and ferocious, vile, monstrous beings beyond imagination become commonplace the further one can soar through the skies. That is why the haven was built, and that is why you must go."

"..."

Thorn mulled the words silently. It hurt. He didn't want to leave and abandon the village, nor did he wish to disappear with the mark of a cursed child still branded on his back.

But if he could return stronger and mightier than the Chief or the Great Sages, would they not have to rethink their labels of him?

"How long would I need to leave for?" Thorn questioned, the sadness palpable on his tongue.

"Years," the Chief said. "Maybe longer, depends on how well you train."

"..."

"I understand, Chief," Thorn said, head lowered. "What should I do? Where to go and when?"

The Chief laughed, seeing the boy's deflated state before he said, "Relax, kid. We're not throwing you into the wilderness to drop dead in a beast's belly somewhere."

He ruffled the boy's hair and continued, "For now, pack one carry sack of your most necessary belongings and bid any farewells you may want to make to the villagers. Once the great storm passes, the Sage will collect you and escort you to the haven."

"You have a fortnight, Thorn. Until then, keep your head up high. You are not cursed. You'll return a proud Primal Hunter."

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