Hunter's Soul

The autumn air was crisp, and a thick carpet of fresh-fallen snow coated every surface it would stick to. Smithy took a deep, satisfied breath as he stepped out of his family's lodge, a belly full of hot oats and honey and a easy day ahead of him. A chilly breeze rippled across him, making him shiver and motivating him towards getting to work lighting the forge.

Those thoughts were quickly put on hold as a pleasant voice called out.

"Morning, Smithy!"

Smithy turned, surprised, as the local (and only) Unicorn filly trotted by, wrapped in a pink scarf.

"Yuh-Yarrow! Uh, good morning to you, too!" Smithy stammered, crossing his front hooves self-consciously. Yarrow beamed back, her short-cropped emerald mane ruffling perfectly in the breeze-Oh sweet Celestia she knows my name! Smithy valiantly tried to play it cool. "S-so, what brings you to this side of town?"

"Oh! You, actually." Yarrow's magic aura lit up, lifting a rough-spun cloth sack out of her saddlebags while Smithy tried not to blush and failed. "My dear uncle broke our coat hook with his magic. He's getting old, you know, doesn't quite know his own strength anymore. Brittle bones but whew!" The pretty mare shook her head, "still could move the cabin if he really wanted to. I made more burn salve, I'll happily pay with that, if you don't mind?" She asked, indicating the sack. A gentle clinking gave away the mason jars within.

"S-sure! Absolutely!" Smithy nodded his head as fast as it would go. "I'll fix it up better than new! You'll have it back by nightfall!" He promised, wondering which orders he could put off to actually have it done by nightfall and how badly damaged this coatrack really was. It was probably one of the ones Damask used to make out of old shoes, bent in half and welded to a pair of rods to form hooks. "I, uh... I just need to go by my forge first and get the coals going." Smithy committed to what he felt was a monumental gamble with what he said next, praying he could say it without sounding like a foal. "Walk with me?" He squeaked.

"Oh, of course! You'll want to keep the burn salve near where you get burned, I expect!" Yarrow fell into step beside him, and Smithy happily led the way to his workshop.

Yarrow was a newcomer to Little Flanchard, and "newcomer" as in she was the newest pony in town having moved in six years ago. Flanchard was a very small, isolated Earth Pony village in the northern mountains, and before Yarrow had arrived her uncle Dr. Mesquite had been the only Unicorn in the whole town, responsible for all kinds of magical troubleshooting. The town was too small to have a real Weather Patrol, and the five Pegasus that lived in the inn generally focused on keeping the weather safe as opposed to under control unless Mesquite stepped in, something he was getting too old for. Everyone else in Little Flanchard was an Earth Pony and a miner, something that made Yarrow seem very unique to them. Consequently, every young colt and half of the fillies in the village had fallen head-over heels in love with her, including Smithy Souls. Yarrow had ignored the attention for the most part, attending to her uncle and greenhouse, and it had slowly died off.

Yarrow was the only Unicorn mare Smithy had ever seen, and he thought she was beautiful. He was so wrapped-up in his amazing good luck in getting to talk to and walk with his crush that he failed to notice the sun go dark.

"Huh? What's that" Yarrow asked and they came around the street that the metalworking shop was on, looking up. Smithy jolted himself, and looked as well. Maybe Stratus lost one of his storm clouds again? he thought, trying to get his eyes to adjust.

Then the shape of the shadow changed, and Smithy's legs turned to jelly. "Dru... Drag..." He managed to stammer, sitting down on the snow, hard. Impossible. Not here.

"DRAGON!" Somepony up ahead screamed as the flying shadow folded its wings and plummeted toward the earth.

The sun glared brightly around the creature, forcing Smithy to look away as it dove. His mind was frozen, but his body decided that the street was not a safe place to be anymore and pushed Yarrow and himself under the eves of the nearest building. They both cried out in fear as wind swirled down the street at gale forces as the beast touched down, crushing Smithy's workshop under its talons and tail.

It looked unlike any creature Smithy had seen or heard of before, and absolute nightmare brought to life. It's fat, flabby white body looked like the largest maggot Tartarus had ever spawned, and a pair of sickly-grey, leathery wings sprouted from its middle. It only had two legs, each with three talons, just as meaty and gross as its body. The head was the worst: there wasn't one. Its long, boneless neck ended in a single slit that split open to reveal row after row of tiny, needle-like teeth set in rings of pale pink flesh.

The mouth-neck flailed across the street lazily, snuffling as it tried to scent its prey. One of the shop owners, Jazzline, scrambled out from under the wreckage of a sled and darted for safety, inches ahead of the abomination's jaws as the neck stretched and snapped after him. The monster screamed, an unbearable, earsplitting shriek that made Smithy and Yarrow cower and clasp their hooves over their ears. Smithy thought he heard a whimper. It was probably him.

He looked up to see the creature turn toward them, shuffling along, feeling its way along the street with its wing tips and neck. Smithy carefully got to his hooves, helping up the unicorn. It's blind, it doesn't have eyes! We can get away! He made a shushing motion to Yarrow, who nodded, crimson eyes tearing up in fear. The disgusting aberration waddled closer and they began to sneak away.

Smithy's back hoof stepped on the end of a splintered piece of wood that had been thrown down the street when the creature landed, making a soft crunch under the fresh snow. Yarrow look at him. Smithy looked at Yarrow. They both looked back at the monster searching for them.

The monster stopped sniffing. The ponies ran.

With a moaning roar, the beast flapped its wings once and flung itself down the street, trying to crush them under its bulk. The worm-like head missed missed Yarrow's tail by less than a meter, sending both ponies tumbling away in a flurry of snow. The beast moaned again, and reared its head back, an aura of crackling lighting beginning to gather in its throat. Smithy rolled to his hooves, grabbed Yarrow roughly by that back of her mane and drug her upright after him as he fled, looking back over his shoulder. The electric charge grew brighter, and he could feel his coat standing on end as the creature lowered its head and discharged the blast into the snow. It tore along the ground in a wave of light, arching and spreading as it went. There was no way they both would escape it.

Smithy slid his flank under Yarrows belly and bucked her as far and as high as he could, sending her wailing up onto the roof of somepony's house. The wave of lightning brushed the tip of his snow-soaked tail and caught up with him. Smithy's whole world vanished with a flash as he lost control of every muscle in his body, wracked with pain as he skidded across the ground helplessly, his coat and mane shedding sparks. Distantly, through ringing ears, somepony called his name. His eyelids flickered, and he realized he had never actually closed his eyes, just that his vision had blacked out and was slowly returning. Nothing worked as he tried to move, his narrow, blurry view down the street perfectly framing the approaching monster. I'm going to die. It's going to kill me, then eat me. Maybe not even kill me first. It's going to eat me alive.

A bang echoed through the streets from behind Smithy, and something burst against the creatures neck making it flinch back. A second bang, followed by another and another made the beast wince and scream again, pounding Smithy's already abused skull into submission. The moment before he passed out, he caught a glimpse of a pony bounding over his body, clad head-to-tail in strange garb and swung a club bigger than he was, charging the abomination. Smithy wanted to shout a warning, but his vision faded and he finally passed out.

***

Cold liquid being poured across one's face is not the most pleasant way to be awoken, but it is very efficient.

"Mister Po!" Cried his mother's voice.

"Awaa? 'Ee awake na', inn'ee?" Came a new one, thick with accent.

Smithy sputtered and lifted his head, sore and confused. He was on a blanket set next to the firepit inside the lodge, his back getting toasty warm. His mother and sister Myrrh where standing over him, glaring daggers at the pony who had dumped a mug of water over his head. Smithy twisted his neck and was surprised by what he saw.

The pony was not actually a pony at all. The same hight as most stallions, but with a heavy, sturdy build and a thick coat of brown fur. A wild mane of rust-red spilled down his neck with several thin braids and beads, and a pair of wide, broad-tined antlers sprouted through them. His eyes were a laughing baby blue, close to Smithy's own coat, and his back end was wrapped in a set of heavy pants.

"'Ello da, friend! Gla t'see yeh back w'teh livin'!" He rolled his R's strongly, and half of his syllables seemed to be missing. It took Smithy a solid four seconds to translate the accent into normal Equestrian.

"Umm, yeah. Thanks? Are you the one who saved me?"

"This is mister Po, Smithy." His mother introduced them as Myrrh helped him sit upright. "He's a caribou, from across the tundra to the west. Mr. Po and his friend saved the village from that... thing."

The caribou snorted, pawing at the floorboards with a cloven hoof. "Aww, Ah dinneh do a grad job. 'Ee got awah, righ'?"

Smithy rolled his shoulders and grimaced. He could faintly smell urine and burnt mane, he had probably lost control of his bladder and soiled himself when the lighting-wave had hit him. "What was that thing? It's not gonna come back, is it?" He asked, hoping his worry didn't show too clearly. A sudden memory struck him. "I was with Yarrow! Is she all right?"

"She's fine, dear, Kirin says you saved her." Myrrh assured him.

"Who?" Smithy asked as Mr. Po coughed into his hoof.

"Ya, gud save, too, Ah saw eet. Dat wee beastie day hit'cha was a Kez-who. Nasta uggleh buggas."

Smithy shook his head, not sure he could understand this time.

"He means 'it was a Khezu' and you are lucky to be alive." Came a clear, ringing voice from the guest bedroom. Smithy gingerly looked around...

Just in time to see the most stunningly beautiful creature he had seen in his entire short life walk into the hall

She was taller than most ponies by a full head high, with a deep brown coat that dappled to a creamy tan on her chest and belly. Her legs were thin, and dainty cloven hooves barely seemed to touch the floor even when standing still. Her muzzle was slim and a pair of bright eyes that cooly regarded the room glanced over him. She had no mane, making her ears seem extra-alert, but her entire frame was so slim it failed to look strange. A tiny scut of a tail flicked up as she surveyed the room.

"A deer..." Smithy breathed, then coughed and blushed as he realized he had spoken aloud.

Mr. Po trotted up and bumped shoulders with her, an action she seemed to tolerate. "Ach, Keery! T' tough wee poneh s'wake!"

"I can see that, Popo." She floated across the hall of the lodge and lowered herself to Smithy's level. "Hello. How are you feeling?"

"Awwaawa..." Smithy shut his muzzle and shook himself before answering. "Better. Well, better than when I passed out, I mean."

She gave a small, fleeting smile. "You are very strong, little pony. A shock from a Khezu that size would have killed most hunters, even with appropriate armor. Your family was explaining to me that Earth Ponies are known for their toughness. My name is Kirin, and I am a Monster Hunter, same as my companion, Popo."

"I-I'm Smithy, Smithy Souls. Your voice is pretty. Where did you come from?" Smithy blushed as he realized how weird that sounded. "I-I mean, I've never met a deer before, and I can't place your accent-"

Mr. Po gave a barking laugh. "Och, teh wee poneh be fanceh t' ya!"

Smithy felt like his face was going to burst into flame as the caribou saw through his interest, but Kirin took it in stride. "I expect so, these ponies have never seen anything like us before. I've noticed quite a few of them watching your own tail when you walk." Leaving Po to sputter and blush, the regal deer turned her attention back to Smithy and his family. "I hail from across the western sea, beyond the lands of gryphons. I met Popo when he came south from the Aurora-kingdoms hunting for Rathalos, and we have traveled together since."

"And... you hunt monsters? Like the one that attacked my little colt?" His mother asked, a note of pleading in her voice.

"Da straight. Ahn dinne be fooled, Ah'm gon'ah finnesh teh job!" Popo stamped a hoof.

"I'm not that little, mum." Smithy muttered.

"There is a problem, however." Kirin interjected. "We traveled here because we heard monsters from our lands where moving east. We expected smaller ones, the fast reproducers like Jaggi and Velociprey, but nothing so powerful as a Khezu. We can fend it off, but we will need some help assembling the supplies we need to slay it."

Smithy nodded, groaning as he hauled himself to his feet. "I'll do whatever I can to help. I am a blacksmith, after all." He held his head up proudly.

"Smithy..." His sister put a hoof on his shoulder. "The Khezu destroyed your forge. It's going to take weeks to rebuild it."

That news hit Smithy like an avalanche. That forge was his life! That forge literally made his cutie mark. He ground his teeth. "Miss Kirin, Mr. Po? Can I ask you a favor?"

"We are already planning on slaying the Khezu, if that's what your asking. I thought Po made that very clear." Kirin said, raising a stately eyebrow.

"I know. I want to help." Smithy took a deep breath. "Teach me how to hunt monsters!"

The silence that followed in the lodge was shocking. Even the miners at their own table stopped talking and looked over.

"S-Smithy, what are you-" his mother started, but was interrupted by Po bursting into raucous laughter.

"BWAHAHA! Aye, ye, a Monst'a Hunt'a! Likkle poneh teh slaya of great beasties! Ah kin see it nao!"

"I'm serious!" Smithy shouted, stamping a hoof and nearly falling over. Popo laughed even harder. "Really!"

"He knows." Kirin muttered, eyeing Smithy closely. "And he likes the idea. If he didn't, he would have told you you'd die."

"Haaaa~" The caribou warrior took a deep breath, recovering. "Nah, I dinne think ye'l dai. Yeh got teh 'art." He grinned broadly at the metalworker. "Ah dunno a sing'eh caribou nay griffon da would take ah hit lag tha, get ba oop an' say, 'please, sirah, may Ah have anotha'?' Yer righ' sturdy one."

"My son will not be hunting monsters!" Smithy winced as his mother advanced on them.

Kirin looked at her cooly. "Then who will? You? He is willing to face the Nightmare Herself for your safety." She stood up and walked back toward the guest room as Smithy's mother shrunk back. "I would not stop him."

"So you'll teach me?" Smithy asked, surprised by the turn of events.

"Monster Hunting cannot be taught." Kirin stated cryptically. "Find a weapon and speak to me tomorrow."

She shut the door.

"Grad, she in unna' them moods. All spookeh-like." Mr. Po shook his head, antlers swinging dangerously. "Ah'll hep ye find sum kinda gear teh geet yeh stahted. Must be sum'n in these parts fer wackin' things."

Smithy nodded, starting to get the hang of the caribou's strange manner of speaking. He took a step and caugh a whiff of himself again. Burnt mane and shame.

"Can it wait? I really need a bath."