A Hunter’s Quarrel

He thrust his clawed hand forward, grabbing the small animal as it swam up to him. The animal squirmed in fear, letting out a small screech as he lifted it up to his face. It was furry with webbed feet and a bald spot on its head. Using his thumb claw, he stabbed the animal in its chest, killing it instantly.

My first ever kill. Hardly a meal fit for a Crepton, but it's a start.

He walked onto the riverside, shaking the remaining water off his legs. Placing the tiny carcass on the ground, he knelt and splashed some water onto his smooth leathery skin, running his fingers along his elongated face, which had a slim pointed muzzle and ridges on the eyebrows.

As he finished washing himself, he looked up towards the Two Sky Brothers of Alton as they began to rise from behind forest tainted mountains.

“Did you catch that all by yourself, Clemtis?” A broad, husky voice spoke.

Clemtis turned to see two imposing creptons standing before him, one being light blue and the other sporting a bright yellow taint. Clemtis cowered in their presence, as he always did. For they were his tormentors, Glastim and Drist.

“What do you want?” Clemtis asked.

“I’m just asking, Clemtis,” Glastim said. “After all, it must have been difficult to tackle a creature like that. It was like, what? Three feet long? Or was it three inches?” Glastim let out a husky laugh, with Drist slapping him on the back.

Clemtis sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”

He tried to walk away, but Drist stood in his path.

“What’s wrong, Clemtis?” Drist said, growling. “We’re not good enough company for you?”

Clemtis ignored Drist, and tried once again to walk away, but Drist pulled him back on his tail.

“Hey,” Drist said, angrily. “I’m talking to you, hatchling.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“I know what it is,” Glastim said. “He thinks he’s better than us. But then, what do you expect? He is a Dravlam after all. And we’re just simple common folk. And to think they’re allowing a hatchling like you to go on the Soul Hunt.”

“I’ve as much right as you do,” Clemtis said, defensively. “My father is the Hunt Leader and-”

“Ah yes,” Glastim said, cold in his words. “How can we forget about your dear father? After all, he’s the only reason you’re here. Drusting sycophant.”

How dare he speak about my father like that?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about! My father is a crepton of high status and rank.” Clemtis growled.

Glastim and Drist stared down at Clemtis. They walked right up to him, to the point where Drist came right up to Clemtis’ snout.

“What do you hope to achieve on the Soul Hunt?” Glastim asked, snarling his words. “Hm? To stand tall, like your father and flaunt your status everywhere? You hope to be just like him? You couldn’t bring down a baby Gulbran, even if it was stuck in a sand pit.”

They both laughed, taking turns to smack Clemtis on the head, and even poke their claws into his sides. Clemtis felt like an animal trapped between two menacing predators. He looked around for an escape route. In the end, all he could do was throw a cloud of dust up into Glastim’s eyes. Glastim backed away in pain, clasping a hand over his eyes. Clemtis made a run for it but felt himself being pulled backwards.

“You little menace!” Drist shouted.

Clemtis fell to the ground, having been struck on the side of his face. He tried to get up, but Drist pressed his own foot on Clemtis’ belly, to the point where his toe claws dug into Clemtis’ skin. Clemtis stifled a pained scream.

“Stop it!” A voice cried out.

Clemtis turned and saw his brother Beltas coming towards him. Beltas was taller and had a lighter shade of green compared to Clemtis. Glastim and Drist seemed to relax their postures around him, as though he were their appointed leader.

“What are you two doing?” Beltas asked in an angry tone.

“Your brother was being a pest,” Glastim said.

“That’s not… true, Beltas, I…”

Beltas held up a hand to silence Clemtis. He then turned to Glastim and Drist. Unlike with Clemtis, Glastim and Drist always seemed to pay more respect to Beltas, even calling him a friend, despite being a Dravlam himself. They never laid a hand on him, or even whispered slanders about him like they did with Clemtis.

“And you thought it was a good justification to beat him up like a piece of refuse? Look, fellows,” Beltas said, softly. “There’s no time for this. He’s not worth your time. Any problems you have against my father, you come to me. But leave my brother out of it. I’ll deal with him, alright?”

Glastim and Drist stayed silent, as though rendered silent by Beltas’ words. In the end, Drist lifted his foot off Clemtis’ belly, and the two walked away. Once they were gone, Beltas reached out a hand towards Clemtis, who accepted it in kind.

“You really showed them,” Clemtis said, rubbing his scarred belly.

“Well, father’s expecting you, and I couldn’t let them beat you senseless,” Beltas said. “You’d look very unpleasant, and nobody wants to look bad for their first Soul Hunt.”

"Did he send you to fetch me?"

"Yes. But I don't think he'd mind if we lingered here for a little while longer. How about we rest under that tree over here?"

Beltas pointed to a large tree a few paces behind them. Clemtis nodded, and both brothers walked over to it. As they rested under the tree's shadow, the feathers on their arms began to glow as bright as sunlight reflected through glass in mixed shades of pale blue.

“Why do you hang out with them, Beltas?” Clemtis asked. “They’re such bullies.”

“Believe it or not, Glastim and Drist are good creptons,” Beltas said. “They’re just... jealous of our family’s status. But they respect me well enough. Though it took me years to earn that respect, and I endured no shortage of slanders.”

“I wish I had your strength,” Clemtis said, sadly.

“Don’t worry about them,” Beltas said, laying a sympathetic hand on Clemtis’ shoulder. “Keep your focus on the Soul Hunt. Are you nervous?”

"I don't know," Clemtis said. "I feel excited, and yet also scared at the same time."

"Well, father says fear is a hunter's most valuable ally. Know why? Because it keeps you on high alert, whilst also keeping your arrogance in check."

Clemtis smiled. "He also said perseverance was the best way to succeed. And that words can be as poisonous as the venom within our teeth."

"He always saved his best pieces of advice for you, Clemtis," Beltas said, in a solemn tone. "Still, you've every right to be nervous. The Soul Hunt is the most challenging aspect of growing up. And we all know how challenging growing up as a Crepton can be."

"What was it like for you, when you did your first Soul Hunt?"

"Well," Beltas said, hesitant. "I know it's considered sinful to kill an animal for sport. But when I made my first kill, a Gulbran, I felt powerful for the first time in my pathetic life. But I wanted more. I still want more…”

Beltas fell into a sullen silence. He stared at Clemtis for a long while, before letting out a small chuckle.

"Graceful Goddess, listen to me rambling on," he said, standing up. "Father will probably be wondering where we are. Come on. We wouldn't want you to miss the ceremony."

What did he mean by ‘want more’? He’s enjoyed the same luxuries from father as I have since we were children. Perhaps he’s just wary of the future. I know I’m nervous.

"Oh, hold on," Beltas said. He took out the small animal carcass from his left pocket pouch. “I believe this is yours." He reached it out to Clemtis in offering.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather wait until the hunt begins."

Beltas seemed to regard Clemtis with confusion at first. But then he simply shrugged and threw the tiny corpse into his mouth, swallowing it.

"I won’t be joining you on the hunt, Clemtis, but let me give you a little piece of advice: hesitancy can get you killed. Keep your resolve strong on the hunt, little brother."

Clemtis followed after Beltas as he departed. As he walked alongside Beltas, Clemtis looked towards the Two Sky Brothers, which were now blanketing the land with their vibrant morning light. The left sun seemed to rise above the other, as if they were competing with one another for dominion over the land.

******

The sparks of a raging fire scattered around like dust. A line of around ten creptons wearing white robes stood in a line, bashing their fists onto large drums, while a dozen others were operating hollow instruments, which played a soft melodious tune to accompany the drumming.

Despite being nervous, Clemtis tried to keep his breathing steady. He stood in-between Glastim and Drist, who simply growled at him as he locked eyes with them.

You may sneer at me now, but once I complete the Soul Hunt, you’ll grow to respect me.

The bellow of a horn resonated through the air. Every Young Claw stiffened their posture, as if they were soldiers ready for inspection. Clemtis looked and saw a light green crepton walking up to the front line. He wore a dark purple cloak that made him stand out like a vibrant leaf on a dead tree branch, and his wrists were adorned with yellow rings.

It was his father, Hinglas.

"Hunters," his father bellowed. "You all stand here now as Young Claws, but by the end of today, you will stand tall as Blood Claws." As he spoke, he looked down towards Clemtis' position, giving him a small nod before continuing. "The Soul Hunt is the oldest and most sacred of all our traditions. Once you've made your first kill and tasted its flesh, you will then awaken your Hunter's Soul. By doing this, you will become one with our ancestors, and our Mother Goddess. But a hunter only kills to satisfy his or her hunger. It is a grave sin to kill an animal for pleasure. And a hunter is only as good as his or her pack, so treat your hunting pack as though they are family. As Hunt Leader, it is my sacred duty to bless all new hunters before the hunt begins. When I call your name, come forth and you shall receive the Blessing of Pracia."

By the time Clemtis has been called forward, the fire had fizzled down to embers. As the other Young Claws passed him, Clemtis could see the Blessing of Pracia painted in white on their foreheads: this was symbolised by two curved claws which criss-crossed one another. He gave each of them his congratulations, but they only glared at him in return with deathly stares.

What have I ever done to deserve all this scorn?

"Clemtis," his father said. "Come forth."

As Clemtis knelt before his father, he made a quick glance towards the two suns.

They say that having a Soul Hunt under the light of the Two Sky Brothers will bring good luck to any young hunter. Well, I’ll take whatever luck I can get.

"There's no need for that, son."

"If I don't kneel, it would look as though I’m favoured above the others."

His father chuckled. "Ever the awkward one, Clemtis. Very well. As Hunt Leader, it is my sacred honour to cast the Blessing of Pracia upon you, and name you worthy of attaining your Hunter's Soul."

Clemtis felt his father's finger skimming along his forehead with gentle ease. When his father had finished, he gave Clemtis a small mirror. As Clemtis held the mirror up to his face, he saw the Blessing of Pracia resting on his forehead. He looked back at his father, who nodded with a prideful smile on his face.

I shall wear this with strength.

Beltas looked at Clemtis with a similar smile on his face.

"Clemtis," his father said. "I don't think I've ever been prouder of you than on this day, as I watch you…"

As his father spoke, Clemtis looked towards Beltas. While he was smiling, Clemtis could see there was something off about Beltas. As though his smile was forced. He was about to ask Beltas what was wrong when he was pulled into a hug by his father.

"Thank you, father. But…" Why is Beltas so sad?"What if I'm not ready for this?"

His father sighed. " No one is ever truly ready for their first hunt, son. It will be difficult, but you have the strength to see it through."

"No. What I mean is… What if I can't do it? What if I'm not a good hunter?"

"Have those boys been calling you names again? Beltas told me about what happened in the plains. Don't listen to their cruel words. The others may act powerful, but they're just jealous. Our name carries prestige and influence that other families only wished they had. Some will be envious of your status as the Hunt Leader's son, but you are your own crepton, Clemtis."

"That's part of the problem, father. I try to be my own crepton, but… People seem to judge me solely by the name of our family, rather than my individuality. Whenever I try to speak with others of my own age, they simply spit insults at me. Whenever I try engaging with them, they turn away. They think of me as some weakling, just because I can't run as fast as them, or bellow as loud as them. Like they’re judging me by your endeavours. In fact, Beltas is practically my only friend."

He looked towards Beltas, who stared back and smiled.

"Son," his father said, resting his hand on Clemtis' shoulder. "I myself didn't become a great hunter overnight. It wasn't until I made my first kill that people really started to notice me. Then as I made kill after kill, I rose in the ranks of influence, until I earned the title of Hunt Leader. Remember: a hunter may fail with his claws--"

"But leave him only his teeth, and he shall always prevail.'" Clemtis felt his father's words pulse through him.

"I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"Ever since you were a hatchling, people have always said they could see a bit of me in you. But now I see it. You're just like me when I was younger: sheltered, unsure of himself. But you also have the same strength and endurance."

"It's true," Beltas said, walking up to them. "Those other hunters may spit at you, but you never falter. You keep going, despite all the odds. Like during the last Twilight Moon, when you ran the five-mile race. The other competitors pushed you down, but you kept running and eventually won. That stubbornness has always been your most admirable--"

"Thank you, Beltas" their father said, somewhat cold in tone.

“Yes, father,” Beltas said, apologetically.

"You don't realize it," his father continued, "but you carry the strength of your ancestors. I've never doubted you, Clemtis."

"But–"

"Don't worry. Even if you fail, you'll still be my son. Being the head of our family is not based solely on strength. It also takes patience, and cunning, both of which are your best qualities. But I also know you can do this. And once you’ve made your first kill, and come back to me, you'll have a proud father by your side."

I know that. But when I complete the hunt, will I continue to be judged by my status as a Dravlam, or by my own efforts?

"I… will do my best, father."

His father smiled with pride.

There came a loud rumbling noise. Everyone turned and saw a pale white crepton standing on the hill, who was blowing into a large horn which bellowed so loud, Clemtis felt as though his ear holes were ringing. The other Young Claws stirred almost at once. For it was the Bellow of Tidings, and the Soul Hunt was about to begin.

"You'd better get ready. Go on, now".

And with that, Clemtis made for the hunting grounds with Beltas walking alongside him. As they walked, Clemtis could not help but feel something was different about Beltas. He normally knew him as a Crepton of constant optimism, always handy with a quip about nearly every bad thing that happens. But… He seemed sad, as though he knew something Clemtis did not.

“Are you okay, Beltas?” Clemtis asked.

“Hm? Oh yes, Clemtis. I’m just… worried about you.”

“You needn’t be, Beltas,” Clemtis said. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got father’s strength and cunning in me.” Clemtis was not entirely sure if he believed it himself, but it felt better than sounding vulnerable in front of his own brother.

“That alone won’t help you,” Beltas said, sternly. “If you want to be the head of our family, you’d need respect from other Creptons.”

“But what if they don’t respect me? The Soul Hunt may be my only chance to be known for something other than my family name. Once they see my strength, they’ll have to respect me, or at least acknowledge my strength.”

“Respect is earned, not given,” Beltas said. He stopped and let out a heavy sigh. “You know… You could run away, Clemtis. While you have the chance. You could go somewhere else, like the Terram Space Expanse. At least there, you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by expectations.”

For a moment, Clemtis regarded Beltas’ words. No. I have a duty to our family. Father has pride for me. I can’t disappoint him.

“I’m not scared, Beltas. I’ll complete my Soul Hunt and earn my Hunter’s Soul. After that, I promise to run our family with dignity and strength. I’ll be strong as father and more. You can even stand by me, as co-heir.”

Beltas let out a deep, aggravated sigh. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but then simply patted Clemtis on the shoulder and walked away in the other direction.

******

Clemtis kept low to the ground, his belly skimming along the dirt. As the hunting party got closer, he could just see the herd up ahead. There was a dozen or so animals, some of whom were letting out loud wailing bellows which permeated the air.

Wow. Brakhs are such magnificent creatures.

These creatures stood at a height three times that of an average crepton, sporting a bulky body with two lanky arms, legs as thick as tree-trunks, and a large head. Their faces were elongated, and the top of their heads were crowned with a large fleshy frill, which constantly shifted between different glowing colours. A few of the animals were swishing their tails about in order to swat away irritating insects.

Though they were to be their prey, Clemtis could not help but admire these creatures. If not for their large size, then certainly for their frills. And he had heard these creatures could be quite formidable when forced into a tight space, even when alone.

He felt a tug on his shoulder. "Move over, hatchling," Glastim said, baring his teeth. "You're blocking my view."

Clemtis moved without protest. Even if he had the confidence, he did not want to be thrown down to the ground again.

As the hunting party moved closer still, Clemtis was pushed down by a flow of bodies which barely saw him as anything more than a nuisance. One even deliberately scraped his claws along Clemtis' back, feigning innocence, and claiming it was an accident.

They only see me as something to push around. But I'll show them. I do this, not just to make father proud, but to prove my worth to the gods and my peers.

Glastim had called for the other hunters to gather around him. As Clemtis tried to join the gathering, Glastim stopped him with his trail. Though the other Young Claws tried to keep him separate from the discussion, Clemtis had learned that the hunting party was going to be divided into two groups: one had to drive a small section of the herd to a specific spot. From there, it would be up to the second group to kill the chosen quarry.

When the other Young Claws had dispersed, Glastim simply grunted at Clemtis and pointed towards the right side, where the killing party was preparing to head off. As Clemtis turned to join them, one of the Young Claws--a red skinned crepton--gave him a pat on the back and said: "Good luck."

Clemtis was left surprised by this gesture. The Young Claw even sounded sincere when he said those words. In any case, it was a welcome change from being disregarded or treated like a nuisance.

At least one of them recognises my worth.

As the killing party made their way to the designated spot, Clemtis did his best to keep up with them. Eventually, they stopped along a ridge over-looking the herd. Clemtis watched the scatter party, led by Glastim, as they moved stealthily around the herd, keeping to the outlying bushes. They stopped near a small group that was drinking from a pond.

"Hey," Drist said. "Just stand back and let the real hunters handle it. If you're lucky, you might get some leftovers by the time we're finished."

This incited hushed laughter among the other Young Claws.

When I inflict the killing bite, you'll be lucky enough to get the bones.

A loud roar sounded off in the distance. The herd began to disperse, running in all directions. Off to the far right, Clemtis could see the scatter party trailing alongside three Brakhs. As they ran, the scatter party kept a tight fence around the animals in order to prevent them from escaping. Clemtis followed their path until he could see them coming up from the ridge. As they got closer, there came another roar. That was the signal.

The killing party stirred. Clemtis tried to get up, but the others pushed him down. By the time he lifted himself up, they had gone far ahead of him.

No. Not this time.

With his gaze directed towards the Two Sky Brothers, Clemtis ran after the others. By the time he had caught up to them, the scatter party–as well as the three Brakhs– were right on top of them.

As soon as the animals were upon them, the killing party scattered, creating a barricade on both sides in order to further cage the three animals in. Drist was the first to taste blood, as he jumped onto the Brakh closest to him. Before long, a dozen Young Claws were leaping onto all three animals. In that moment, the Young Claws seemed to completely eschew the moral laws of civilization, with the only goal in mind being to satisfy their primal instincts.

Clemtis was the only one who remained on the ground, choosing to stay close to the largest Brakh. Even though four creptons were biting into its flesh, the animal was still running. He studied the beast up and down for a weak spot. By that time, all the other spots had been taken up. Except for one. For all their bloodlust, not a single Young Claw had tried to go for the throat.

With a clear goal in mind, Clemtis jumped into the air. As he clung onto the animal's side, Clemtis dug his claws into its skin, and started to slowly climb up. The animal began to heave itself around, trying to shake off the Young Claws. Clemtis started to feel nauseous, but he did not let this deter him.

He climbed up the animal's long neck, his feet resting on its shoulders. As he prepared to bite down, he saw the animal's eyes. His jaw slackened as he looked deeper into them; he could see the animal's fear and sadness.

Then he remembered Beltas’ words.

"'… hesitancy can get you killed. Keep your resolve strong on the hunt, little brother.'"

Clemtis closed his eyes and tasted the animal's sweet, warm blood as he dug his teeth into its neck. The Brakh cried out in pain: the final call of an animal that knew death was upon it.

As the Brakh thrashed about, Clemtis tightened his grip on the animal’s skin, all the while biting down harder. Soon, the animal was staggering from side to side. There was a great thud as it fell to the ground. Clemtis, and the other Young Claws, had just managed to jump off in time. The other two animals fell to the ground not long after.

Clemtis wiped the blood from his lips and knelt beside the animal. Its eyes twitched slightly, the last embers of life ebbing away. Though this was to be his meal, he took the time to pay respect towards it, as was expected of him.

He rested his hand on its neck, where he inflicted the killing bite.

Rest in peace, beautiful creature. Your torment is over.

Clemtis stood up and turned to the rest of his hunting pack. He was pushed aside as a flurry of different colour shades began to crowd around the three carcasses. With a primal frenzy to them, they dug their blooded jaws into torn flesh. Clemtis had at least expected some form of recognition from them, but no one had even spoken a word to him. I inflicted the killing bite! Does my part in this hunt mean nothing to them?

Clemtis picked up a small rock and threw it at the crowd, where it landed on Drist's head. All the Young Claws ceased their frenzy and turned their attention towards him.

"Do the rules of the hunt not apply to any of you? The one who made the killing bite gets to eat first. I was the one who brought the largest beast down! I'm a hunter, like all of you! Recognise me! Recognise my worth!"

After a lengthy silence, Drist replied with a hissing growl. The others followed, until there was an eerie chorus of hissing and growling.

They started walking towards him. Clemtis began to back away, fearful of what they may have had in mind for him. These were not his fellow Young Claws anymore; they acted more like evil forces out of some dark story told around a fire at night, coming to claim his soul.

Clemtis kept walking backwards, until he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Just as he was prepared to use his claws, they relaxed when he saw Beltas looking down at him.

"Beltas," he said, now hopeful in the presence of his brother. "I'm so glad you're here. We need to get out of--"

Clemtis tasted soil in his mouth as Beltas punched him so hard he fell snout first onto the ground. He looked up. The Two Sky Brothers now held new positions in the sky: one seemed to have gained a higher position above the other, as if he had just dethroned his brother.

******

A dozen faces stared down at him with bared teeth. When he tried to pick himself up, Clemtis was pushed back down into the dirt. He grabbed for the foot that was standing on his stomach, but his strength was ebbing away. When he looked up, Clemtis saw the same crepton who had given him encouragement earlier. This crepton was now staring down at him with utter hatred on his face. Drist stood beside him, a sadistic smile resting on his face.

As they crowded around him, he heard every sort of insult imaginable being spoken:

"Weakling."

"Hatchling."

"Dull claw."

"Spoiled child."

This was meant to be the moment in his life when Clemtis' Hunter's Soul would awaken, and he would finally gain praise from his peers. But nothing had changed. It did not seem to matter that Clemtis had shown his strength in the hunt. In their eyes, he was worthless, and nothing could ever change their view of him.

What have I ever done to earn your hatred? All I've ever wanted was recognition in your eyes.

"Once… Once my father hears of this, you'll all be sorry."

At Drist's behest, the red-skinned crepton lifted his foot from Clemtis' belly. Clemtis began to lift himself up, only to be struck back down by Drist's fist.

"You don't deserve to be called a hunter," Drist said, growling. "You were only given the title because of your father. But you didn’t earn it, unlike the rest of us, who have had to work long and hard to become hunters. It's only through your father's favour that you're here. Otherwise, they'd never allow an arrogant brat like you to participate."

How dare he spit on my father's title like that?

"I don't appreciate what you're saying," Clemtis said, standing up.

"That’s because you're your father's 'special son'." Drist spat at Clemtis' feet. "You're young and naïve, so I might as well lay the truth on you. Your father holds the title of Hunt Leader, but he doesn’t carry it with honour. He has always used it to get his way, at the expense of others. How'd you think he even got the title of Hunt Leader? Because he cheated and wriggled his way to the top. That's the kind of crepton he is."

"You're lying!" Clemtis shouted. He let out a soft growl, just about ready to slash Drist.

But then Beltas appeared from behind Drist, with a downcast look on his face. It was then that Clemtis remembered who struck the final blow which rendered him unconscious.

“Beltas,” Clemtis said, somewhat pleadingly. “Why? We’re brothers.”

These words seemed to sting Beltas. “I could never deny that Clemtis. It’s why we set this whole thing up in the first place.”

“What?”

“You ever wondered why we acted the way we did, Clemtis?” Drist asked. “Because you’re so much like your father; proud and confident. Too confident, in fact, for your own good. He had that same confidence when he cheated my own father out of his title as Hunt Leader, right from under his snout. And we see so much of him in you.”

“I tried to protect you from the truth, Clemtis,” Beltas said. “But I should have told you sooner. You see, father has cheated so many a good crepton out of their titles and gains. To you he’s loving and tender, but to others… He’s a tyrant. He’s been bullying others from behind everything for years.”

“Beltas…” This can’t be true. They’re feeding lies into his head.“Why are you saying all this?”

“Because it’s true! Open your eyes, Clemtis!” Beltas growled, but then breathed deeply and regained his composure. “You probably think I’m saying all this for kicks, but I’m not. You want to see proof? Here.” Beltas held up his arm. With two of his fingers, he slowly tore away at his skin, much to Clemtis’ shock. Until he saw that it was not skin, but an artificial covering. When fully taken off, it revealed a large black bruise which permeated through Beltas’ natural green. “Father gives you love and attention, and all the best tutors he can hire. Because he saw you as the head of our family, from the day you hatched. Me… I’m the disappointment. I never held up to his expectations. And this is one of his handiworks.”

Clemtis’ mouth gaped open with shock. He did not know how to feel about this revelation at first, but eventually chose quiet sadness.

Beltas… All this time, I’ve been receiving father’s love, and you’ve been his punching bag. Your face at the ceremony… Was it because of me? Did father hit you beforehand?

“Beltas… I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Beltas said. “But whether you can see it or not, you’re slowly inheriting father’s worst qualities. Before you left for the hunt, you boasted that you would succeed in the hunt, and become as great as father is.”

I only said that so you wouldn’t think me as too scared. I didn’t realize I made you think of me as over-confident.

“But I did succeed in the hunt,” Clemtis said.

“Yes,” Glastim said, growling, “and then you demanded to have the first bite. Acting like you were better than us.” He made a move towards Clemtis, but Beltas stopped him with a firm hand.

“You see, Clemtis?” Beltas said, sternly. “Already, you’re becoming like father all the time. And I know, deep down, that you’re capable of being better than him.”

Clemtis looked at Beltas, then at his fellow Blood Claws. They were all staring at him with foul stares. Though he was not directly involved in the misfortunes his father had inflicted on others, Clemtis knew he was not total innocent; his sin was unwilling coherence.

While he himself had his father’s love, Beltas-along with so many others- had been a victim of bullying and trauma. Clemtis could not help but wonder if some of his own endeavours to keep his father’s love were indirect calls for beatings towards Beltas, for not being like him.

This made him sick to the stomach.

“But I won’t be like him,” Clemtis said. I accept that I’ve been too boastful of late, but I promise to be better, Mother Goddess.

“You say that Clemtis,” Beltas said, “but even you can’t be sure. You haven’t shared in the pain we’ve all had to endure. You see every one of these Blood Claws standing here today? They respect me. Because I earned that respect, with patience and hubris. But you… If you can’t fully understand their pain, how can you hope to be better?”

“I…” Clemtis opened his mouth but was lost for words.

I can’t be sure of anything anymore.

“You know,” Glastim said, “all of us simply wanted to send you far away from Alton. But Beltas wanted to give you a chance at redemption.”

“What?” Clemtis asked.

“You remember the old story?” Beltas said. “Where Belvas the Defiler, who committed so many misdeeds, found redemption by bathing in the pools of Galmthra, blessed by Pracia herself? Well… I want you to be better than father, Clemtis. But first… You must endure pain. Real pain.”

It was then Clemtis noticed that everyone began to surround him, like they did with the Brakh corpses. Only Beltas did not stop them. Clemtis looked for a way out, but soon realized there was no escape, no other recourse. Before long, he was grabbed by multiple pairs of hands, which dug their claws into his skin as he struggled.

Beltas walked up to Clemtis. Though he reacted with fear, Clemtis could see sadness in his brother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Clemtis.”

******

Clemtis heard rushing water. They had come a fair distance without stopping. Beltas was leading the band, with Glastim and Drist walking alongside him. Clemtis would have screamed for help, but they had gagged his mouth shut with a large scrunched-up leaf. By the time they had stopped and taken it out of his mouth, the sound of water became so loud he could hardly hear anything else.

They dragged him a little further forward, until Clemtis’ head was dangling over the side of a steep cliff. Clematis’ heart sunk as he saw the full scale below; the ground was so far down, everything seemed miniscule. If that was not enough, the wall was dotted with jagged rocks. Some of them even had fresh animal corpses on them.

What is this? Is this place to be my tomb?

A large stream of water flowed down the cliff, white foam settling at the bottom. Were they going to throw him over the edge? What were their plans for him?

“Beltas, please!” Clemtis said, pleadingly as they took the leaf out of his mouth. “Don’t do this. I don’t want to die. Oh, graceful Pracia, please…”

“Relax,” Drist said, huffing. “We’re not going to kill you. We don’t like you, but we’re not that hateful. Beltas has something different planned for you.”

Beltas turned toward Clemtis and knelt before him. As their eyes met, Clemtis could see a certain sadness in his brother’s eyes; as though what he had planned was no better than murder.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, Clemtis,” Beltas said, sullenly. “But I don’t have a choice.”

You’ve always had a choice, Beltas. And so, did I.

“What… What do you intend to do?”

“Belvas’ sins were washed away through water. And now… We plan to wash away the taint of father’s sinful nature from you. But it will go one step further. To make sure it never surfaces, we will hold your head under the water, depriving you of breath.”

“What?” Clemtis shouted, trying to free himself from the bonds of his captors.

“Don’t worry,” Beltas said, placing a gentle hand on Clemtis’ shoulder. “I won’t let you die. I’ll only let you see what it’s like to truly endure suffering. You’re still my brother, and I want you to grow strong without father’s influence. You may hate me after this, but… Know that I do this because I love you.”

Before Clemtis could utter any words of defiance, Beltas gestured to the flowing river next to them. Almost at once, the two creptons who were grasping onto Clemtis (one who was light red, and another who was vibrant green) dragged him over to the water. Amidst the flowing water, Clemtis could see his face; it shifted between anger and fright.

It was almost as though he were staring into the eyes of his own conscience.

“Do it,” Beltas said.

Clemtis felt the air being ripped from his mouth as he was plunged into the water. All he could see was dirt and mud; it almost felt like he was in an empty space, devoid of beauty or life. He tried to breath, but only gulped up more and more water.

Suddenly, he felt the rush of air on his skin. As the water dripped off his face, Clemtis breathed in large gulps of air, just before he was plunged down again. He tried to keep his mouth closed. Eventually, the pressure was too much, and he had to breath in water again. Just before they brought him up again, he could swear he was about to pass out.

They held him as he breathed raggedly.

“Again,” Beltas said.

Clemtis shouted; “No!”

Just as they were about to hold him under the water once more, Clemtis slapped his hands onto the river’s rocky edge, keeping himself about an inch from the water’s surface. They tried to push him down even more, but he stayed his strength. He stared into the water’s surface and saw himself; beaten and defeated.

No. I won’t let others decide my fate. Not father. Not even you, Beltas.

As they started to push him down with greater strength, Clemtis was able to grab a fistful of mud and threw it into the face of the green skinned individual. He quickly stood up, striking the other in the snout with his elbow. Both staggered backwards distracted with their retrospective problems, with the blood red individual struggling to stop his snout from bleeding.

Clemtis stood before his fellow Blood Claws, breathing raggedly. They seemed shocked at first, as though they were not expecting Clemtis to fight back. But this did not last, for they soon sprang towards him.

Clemtis ran, with the others hot on his trail. He ran along the waterfall’s edge, keeping at a fair distance. Behind him, he could hear the Blood Claws jeering and roaring. He dared not look back, as they seemed to be only a few inches away from him. Though there was no point of salvation in sight, Clemtis knew he had to run as fast as he could.

I must get away from them.Then he looked over the edge. Though he was high up, Clemtis could see that the river below was quite wide. If I jump, maybe I won’t hit the banks. But if I mistime it-

He felt a violent tug pulling him back. As he readied for a confrontation, he softened when he saw it was Beltas. Even though he tried to have him ‘purged’ only a few moments ago, Clemtis could not bear to swipe his claws at him. He struggled in his brother’s grasp, while Beltas tried to hold him down. “This… is for your own good, Clemtis!” Beltas shouted. As Clemtis continued to struggle, he could feel Beltas’ claws dig into his skin. At this point, he felt there was no other recourse; even if he could free himself of Beltas’ grasp, he and the other Blood Claws would catch up to him sooner or later. And if he got back to civilization, to his father... Even that did not seem like a safe place anymore.

Beltas pinned Clemtis to the ground. While he had his foot pressed on Clemtis’ stomach, Clemtis’ arms were free. Seeing the chance, he took hold of a small rock and slammed it into the side of Beltas’ head.

Beltas staggered backwards, clasping onto the bloody wound on his head.

Clemtis was shocked at this sight. He only wanted to be free of Beltas’ grasp. He never intended to hurt his brother.

Shock turned to fear as he saw that Beltas was standing on the cliff’s edge. He stood up and held his arm out to him, but it was too late. For Beltas had fallen over the side. All he heard for a long time was Beltas’ scream as he fell. Then he heard a wet crunch.

“No,” Clemtis said, softly. “No, no, no!”

He clambered to the cliff’s edge and saw-to his horror- Beltas lying on the rocky bank. For a long time, Beltas did not move, and soon Clemtis feared the worst. He felt sick to the stomach. It got worse when he looked to the other Blood Claws, who stared back at him with fear. As he stood up, they stepped back, as though he were about to attack.

What have I done? Why is this happening to me? I only wanted to be one of you. And now I’ve killed my only brother.

There was a faint groan. Clemtis rushed to the edge and saw Beltas stirring. He breathed a sigh of relief. But this quickly subsided when he saw a river of blood run from Beltas’ left arm.

Oh, Beltas. How did we come to this? We’re brothers and now we’ve inflicted so much pain on one another. Curse you, father! Beltas said I never shared any hurt with anyone. Well… I won’t let him suffer alone.

Clemtis allowed himself to roll over the edge. Soon, he felt himself falling through the air. The next thing he knew, he was on solid ground, and overcome with an intense pain. When he stirred, the pain grew worse. He looked and saw his right leg had twisted in two places.

“What in the name of Pracia have you done?” Beltas shouted. “You could have killed yourself!”

“Well,” Clemtis said, slowly turning himself to face Beltas. “At least now I truly know what it means to feel real pain, like the kind father has inflicted on others. From now on, I promise to stand tall, as my own Crepton. But I can’t do that, without you by my side, brother.”

Beltas was rendered speechless by Clemtis’ words, for he opened and closed his mouth multiple times. Eventually, he smiled and nodded.

“Let’s declare it in the presence of the gods.”

Beltas let out a loud, booming wail. Clemtis did the same, holding his right hand up into a tight fist.

After they had made their anguish known to the gods, and to his peers, Beltas slowly stood up, and help Clemtis to his feet. They started to walk along the riverside, toward the other Blood Claws as they hurried toward them. As they walked, Clemtis look up towards the Two Sky Brothers once more. They were starting to set behind the mountains in unison.

I reject you, father. I reject your gifts. I reject everything.

THE END

Bio: "I am a beginning writer from Nairn in Scotland, United Kingdom, with a few instances of publishing to my name. These include a poem published on an anthology run by the Moniack Mhor Creative Writing Centre, two poems published on the Moniack Mhor Creative Writing blog, as well as a short story published on the Ansible. In my spare time, I like to read books, watch television, go for walks in the country and even draw fantasy-type maps."

E-mail: Mathew Anderson

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