Hunters

The train to Sunny Summer parts north zoomed down the tracks, the metal exterior rattling against the cold wind. Within the metal shell, many people sat anxiously taking in the sights as the train zoomed passed. Many felt a compulsion to comment on the beauty of the landscape. The various voices that came from the other passengers were a blessing to Macintosh, as they were far easier to tolerate than the voice of his temporary partner, Soarin Gale.

“And then that time you KO’ed that one chump with a single punch! It was so awesome!” Soarin cheered and Mac sighed. It was bad enough that he had already shown how little he took the mission seriously, but now he was acting like a total fan boy; praising the older Hunter like a child meeting their hero.

“Look, ya don’t need to keep bringin’ all that stuff up. Ah ain’t no different from any other Hunter.”

“Says the guy who took out five fiends by himself,” Soarin retorted.

“Three and they were bees and Ah gave them honey. They were good,” Big Mac explained.

“But the guy with one punch-,” Soarin said, quickly being cut off by Big Mac.

“-was already exhausted and distracted by my partner; Quick Snap. Nothin’ but good teamwork,” Big Mac finished for him.

Soarin shrugged. “Well, teamwork or not, you’re still one of the strongest dudes at our school. I’m not the only one who thinks that.”

“Ah know. Trust me.” Mac stated flatly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ah can’t tell ya how many folks have challenged me. It gets annoyin’ after a while.”

Soarin cocked an eyebrow. “What? The challenges? They can’t be that hard.”

“Not what Ah mean,” Mac corrected him, his expression softening some. “The attention.”

To this, Soarin let out a chuckle. “Sorry, man, but I don’t buy it. Any guy would give their right arm to be in your spot. Everyone wants to partner up with you, girls throw themselves at you and guys are super envious. Who wouldn’t want that?”

Mac scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it’s all good until you find yerself unable to have even a moment’s peace. Or when some chump starts throwing yer name out like it’s a damn candy gram just to protect themselves or when a girl begins stalking ya. It may seem like a glamorous life, but it ain't. Bein’ at the top tends to bring out the worst in people.”

The weight of Mac’s words hit Soarin hard. It never dawned on him to wonder what that meant. For the brief times he did see Macintosh, he never really looked annoyed or tired or anything other than...bored. Soarin had presumed that he got bored with being one of the strongest students. He didn’t think it would be like this.

The younger Hunter was at a loss of words. Any form of comeback he might have had was gone now. So, to prevent further damage, he remained silent. Mac himself was less than keen on keeping the conversation going and he opted out.

Soarin leaned back in his seat letting out a sigh. He’d botched this big time. The only thing he could hope for was that they’d reach their destination soon.

Big Mac reached into his pocket to glance at the mission slip. Again, he wished they added more info. Rescue mission in a place called Sunny Summers, that’s not that much to base a plan on. Even the name seemed suspect to him; it was as if the name was something to attract tourists. For all he knew, Sunny Summers was a cold and dark place. Big Mac shrugged and put the mission slip back into his pocket. Time will tell the story; it always does.

~~~~~~~~

Two hours. Two hours stuck on a train with Macintosh, with neither saying a word nearly drove Soarin mad. When they did finally reach the location, Soarin landed on the icy train platform with a crunch while a cold wind shoved it’s way past him like a boorish person. Soarin’s breath came out in white clouds while he glanced around the area. He couldn’t see any threats other than the thick white blanket of snow.

“Holy crap! It’s cold!” Soarin said right before his teeth started to chatter. A moment later, he had to hug himself to keep warm.

“Ah’ve been to colder. It's nothing compared to ice magic.” Mac informed him, as he walked off the train.

“R-R-Right.” Soarin' said, the chattering of his teeth growing louder. “S-so, since we're on the topic; w-what kind of magic do you use?”

“Terra magic,” Mac replied simply, joining the swordsman on the platform.

Soarin turned to face the orange haired Hunter. “T-terra magic? Like, rocks and dirt and stuff?”

Mac nodded.

“All of mah family uses Terra magic. It's kinda like a tradition.”

Soarin gazed at the older male. “Wait, does that mean your sis uses it too?”

Mac replied in the form of another nod.

“But, I saw her with a pair of guns. Why don't you-”

“Ah prefer mah fists.” Mac stated flat out.

“O-oh.” Soarin said. “A-as for me, I use Blazing Frost magic. It lets me-”

“Control ice and fire, right?”

“How do you know that?” Soarin asked, dumbfounded.

“Experience,” Mac answered.

“So uh, how does terra magic work?”

“Ah spose its like Blazing Frost magic. Just instead of fire and ice it's earth.”

“So you scoop up dirt and chuck it at people?” Soarin inquired.

“As much as you throw ice at folks.” As the words left Mac’s mouth, Soarin saw the larger Hunter deflate. Mac’s shoulders sagged and he bowed his head toward the dirty, icy ground. Mac’s mind had obviously wandered back to their mission; one of the residents of this icy town was in trouble. Most likely endangered by bandits using ice magic. Suddenly Mac’s quip made him feel a bit ashamed. Soarin stared at the town unsure of what to do to help his partner.

The shabby buildings with broken windows and peeling paint hunched over the nearly deserted streets like a bum protecting the last sips of his rotgut wine. Scanning the surrounding area, Mac found very few people on the train station. He wondered how if the low population came from this snow and cold? From the brief looks he got, these people looked terrified but of what he was unsure of. The longer they lingered the more worried Mac became in concern of the state of the town. Soarin’s concern, however, was fixed on something else.

“H-Hey, Big Mac? C-c-could we f-f-find some coats or something?”

~~~~~~~~

Thank God for coats, Soarin thought while Mac passed several bits to the sales clerk. Once they had put them on, Soarin could feel his body temperature rise back to that of acceptable levels. Mac looked the same save for some sweat running down his head. They left the store as content customers and decided to continue their journey through the town.

As they continued the wet snow poured down, covering them periodically with insane amounts of precipitation and hail as their footprints were made deeper and deeper. Each step became painful, each little curse under Soarin’s breath more pointless and his annoyance growing with every minute that passed. Soarin stared at the large Hunter in front of him. Soarin’s jaw nearly hit the ground; Mac looked completely fine. As if the hailing snow didn’t exist. To say Soarin was shocked would have been an understatement.

And his annoyance only continued to grow. After trekking for what felt like hours, they finally reached a building, much larger than any they had seen previously. Surrounded with ivory columns, a long driveway lined with pine trees and glass garden stakes. The stakes were made of red crackle glass, although barely visible through the thick mountains of snow. Tall, stone towers loomed in the distance with a courtyard filled with chipped fountains and ice skating rinks. Over the entrance of the large building, there was a bronze plaque that read “City Hall.”

Without knocking or giving any indication they were there, they bolted inside, shivering. Mac first noticed the architecture, the white marble floors being the first to grab his attention. Giant archways lead to a very long corridor and was followed by the longest spiral staircase imaginable. Mosaics adorned the walls and ornate rugs were everywhere. Who could live in a place like this, the Hunters wondered.

“Hello, gentlemen,” A voice came from behind the two. Turning to locate who it belonged to, they found a man standing a mere few feet away from them.  He was an older man decked out in a traditional butler's outfit, “The mistress will see you now. Please follow me.”

“Huh, great service.” Soarin said nonplussed.

Mac gave no response, opting to follow the butler. The butler wasn’t much different from how Mac had imagined one. He had the distinct accent of someone from Trottingham. Not to mention the classic bald head and bushy gray mustache on the elderly man’s face. Mac wondered if the hair accurately represented the man’s age.

The butler led the two Hunters outside to a beautifully crafted oak door with gold handles. The butler gave two quick knocks, three long ones, and a voice came through the door. “Let them in, Hogsworth. I’m ready now.”

Mac and Soarin tried their hardest not to laugh at the butler’s ridiculous name, the latter failing as his quiet giggles grew into loud cackling, tears rolled down his eyes.

Hogsworth muttered bitterly. He’d had to deal with this type of reaction nearly every time his name was spoken. It’s what caused him to stop introducing himself. Hogsworth sighed as he stepped aside to allow the Hunters to enter the office.

The other side of the doors held a large room, the interior matching the rest of the house. Seated in front of a stained glass window was a woman, her height was imposing. She was a blonde, but she gave a look that warned if you called her “blondie”, she’d rip off your head. Her body was slender and defined. Overall, a commanding presence of a leader combined with a smart, professional woman. Even as she sat on her mahogany chair like a queen. It was easy for her to have even the larger of the Hunters under her calculating blue gaze.

The woman’s desk was covered in various forms, with papers falling off the desk and memos tacked on the wall behind her. A giant map was covered by dusty, leather books. Numerous dull red pens were scattered on the floor of the room. It might of looked like a mess, but it was actually a very complex organizational style, with all the moldy sandwiches in one corner far away from the potato chips. She wasn’t unorganized. She was...original. At least, that was how she described herself.

“Ma’am, a pair of Hunters have come for the mission,” Hogsworth said. Soarin’s heart beat like that of a marching band, if a little out of tune with the trumpets and the saxophones playing off-key. The butler entered the room behind him and the duo didn’t even hear it.

“I didn’t offer a job, Hogsworth,” the woman said as she flipped through the papers on her cluttered desk. Her searching method was so concise Soarin' couldn’t help but wonder how her desk became what it was today; that being more paper than desk.

“I am aware, Madam. However, it was necessary to find aid as soon as possible. Hence, I sent the request.” he spoke confidently. “The safety of the young master is of utmost importance.”

“Says who? I’m the one in charge here, you ignorant fool. I make the decisions, you bring me ice-cold vodka. Understand?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. Very well, I’ll take my leave,” he turned to the two Hunters with a look of defeat. “Gentlemen.” He turned and walked down the dark corridor, leaving them with the ever more mysterious mistress of the house.

“Well, um, how are ya?” asked Mac.

“Let’s cut through the pleasantries, shall we? Tell me your name, your age, your skills, your favorite pizza topping, etc. And hurry.” She gave them a look of utter contempt, as if they were intruding while she was getting undressed.

Soarin' stared blankly at the woman before speaking up. “Right…Okay then. Name’s Soarin' Hi-..uh...Gale Swordsman, rank C.”

Mac's brow rose at Soarin's fumble before speaking. “Machintosh Apple. Fighter, rank B.”

The woman’s face twisted in annoyance. “What they couldn't bother to send two Hunters of the same rank? Or at least an A rank…”

“Well, you know,” Soarin' began. “Budget cuts and all that. We are more than suitable for the task. Otherwise, wait another week or so for some other group of Hunters to show. And that is if they feel like riding a two hour train that’s covered in snow and barely surviving the slaughter of the rain and sleet, and just to top it off, deal with your hostility once they survived that hell.” Soarin' was getting a little annoyed with her attitude and his eyes narrowed. He was damn well ready to leave. Mac’s elbow found its way to Soarin’s side and the swordsman doubled over with a barely hidden grunt.

“Pardon mah partner's words, miss. This happened durin’ an exercise at our school. But, rest assured we are capable of completing the mission,” Mac stated plainly.

The mayor stared intently at the pair briefly before sighing. “Very well. I don’t have much of a choice. My name is Sapphire Snegadoch. Come, sit down.” She went over to a mini-bar stashed in the corner and asks, “Care for a drink? I have vodka, bourbon, and gin.”

Soarin was pleased immediately. “Yeah, I’ll take a double bourbon with rocks.” He looked over at Mac. “Well, I don’t suppose you’d take a drink, Mr. Follow The Rules?”

“We’re underage, Gale.”

“So? We are pretty much alone on this nearly barren landscape, with the only warmth in a bottle a few feet from us. How can I resist?”

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. “Neither of us will take a drink, miss.”

“Oh, fine. Never mind,” Mac noticed that Soarin mouthed the words “Later,” but decided to let it slide. He needed to learn the mission at hand before he could scold him again. “So, judgin’ from yer butler’s word, Ah’m guessin’ this is a rescue mission?” Mac asked.

She nodded. “Yes. Some days ago, this gang came to our town. A group of vicious men bent on destroying anything of value or integrity. They’d plan to extort money as “protection”. I refused. So, they decided to give a “demonstration”; assaulting and injuring many of the citizens.”

“That explains why no one was on the streets.” Mac thought aloud as he rested his chin on his hand.

“Yes. The remaining citizens are terrified to leave their homes. Only the foolish attempted to challenge them. "All who went never returned,” she paused momentarily. ”Then, about three days ago their leader approached me again, making the same offer.”

“And you refused again?” Soarin chimed in.

She nodded. “Yes. So, as a way of 'helping' me reconsider, they took my son, Ruby.”

From those words, Soarin’s expression darkened. “How did they manage that?”

“They broke into my home the same day that I was giving a very important speech. They arrived making quite a commotion. Their leader felt the need to interrupt me and eventually it escalated to an altercation. I managed to fend him off and he retreated. I didn't care why or how they got Ruby but as any parent should do I went to make sure that my child was unhurt. I had left him with Hogsworth and found his hand was covered in blood. He told me the bandits did it and I believe that is when they took him.”

“Um,” Soarin' interrupted. ”If you don’t mind me asking...how old is he?”

The mayor shifted her body away from the two Hunters. “H-he’s five.” she spoke, her voice breaking some.

With this new information provided, the pair went silent. Mac tensed up slightly, casting his gaze downward. Soarin’s face contorted in anger, biting on his lower lip.

Mac took note of Soarin’s reaction to the news. He decided now would not be the best time to question him about it.

“Can ya give us a description of him?” Mac asked.

“O-of course,” she said coughing trying to regain her composure. “He’s about three feet tall, has messy blond hair. He has very pale skin, too, and was wearing a dark blue coat and has blue eyes.”

As those last words came from her mouth she felt her lip beginning to shake. The Hunters before her became giant blobs as her eyes grew moist. Her throat felt as if it had swallowed a frog; a frog that was on the verge of breaking free.

The mayor’s eyes grew wide as she got up. Soarin' had the urge to sit up with her. Sadly, Mac’s hand was on his shoulder reminding him he was already standing.

Mac looked at Sapphire with concern in his eyes. “Ma’am, do ya know where yer son is now?”

Sapphire sniffled. “No! Bring my son home! If you fail...”The mayor gave the two a stern look. She tilted her head to the door. The Hunters nodded and they departed the office to meet the bandits.

The duo stood in silence, taking in all the mayor had told them. Mac felt a myriad of emotions; anger and disgust at the idea of these bandits kidnapping a child. Sorrow for the people of this town. Frustration at Soarin’s attitude during the early half on this mission.

It was that last part bothered him most. Once they had been informed of the situation, his demeanor changed. The plucky, yet obnoxious Hunter he came here with had vanished.

Mac glanced at the blue haired swordsman, his hand gripping the hilt of his katana tightly.

“Hey,” Mac began, slowly moving over to the swordsman. “Are ya-”

Suddenly the Hunters heard a chorus of voice. Voices that shouted out in agony and despair. They both knew what it must have meant; the citizens were in pain. The bandits had returned. Cries of fear and dismay sounded in the town.

Almost instinctively the Hunters moved their heads to the direction of the screams. Then with great haste they opened the door of the town hall. They had to hurry to assist the poor populace.

~~~~~~~~

In the distance, they could see explosions and flames. Snowflakes stung their faces as the Hunters ran through the empty streets.

“So any idea where to go first?” Soarin' asked.

“The town square,” Mac answered. “Ah’m bettin’ that’s were they gotta be.”

“Let’s go, then,” Soarin said as he took off running. Mac noticed the shift in Soarin’s personality after finding out about the present situation. Prior to this, he’d been a bit too overjoyed being paired with him. Slightly happy-go-lucky and very loud. Now his tone of voice and how he carried himself seemed like somebody on a mission who’d evade all possible detours. It was a change Mac had to admit he liked.

“We’re getting close,” Soarin' called to him. “Get ready!”

Mac nodded, a smile spreading across his face. Up ahead were two fierce looking men kicking some poor elderly women. Behind her were two small children that were too afraid to cry. Soarin' and Mac got there in a jiffy.

“Hmm? Hey!” One shouted. “Who are you punks-” his sentence was cut short when the hilt of Soarin’s sword slammed against his face. The man stumbled backwards and the bandit had little time to counter as a metal clad fist made contact with his face, sending him flying. The second bandit pulled out a switchblade, the light in the alley slid along the sharp cold edge. He gave Soarin' a grin that promised bloody murder.

While Mac checked on the elderly women and the children, Soarin faced off against the other thug. With a crazed yell, the second man charged Soarin'. The younger Hunter dodged each strike the remaining thug threw his way. He had to give this fool some credit; at least he knew some of the basics.

The last strike Soarin blocked, pushing the man back a few feet. Then, quickly drawing his sword, zipped by him.

The thug stood baffled before chuckling loudly. “Y-you idiot! Ya missed me!”

Soarin turned towards the man, a cold smile painted on his face.

“Did I?” Sheathing his blade, Soarin watched as a large gash became visible on the thug’s right side. A white vapor billowed from the man’s wound. Like a scab, a sheet of ice spread across the wound covering it.

The man looked at Soarin for a moment. His face was contorted in a puzzled expression.

With a grunt, the man touched the ice scab. The ice began to melt. The man’s hand scooped up a large portion of the melted ice and threw it. Soarin' wondered how desperate the man could be. Though how the man melted the snow seemed off; the only type of magic that could pull that off would be his own.

His mind racing, Soarin' didn’t notice the melted ice began to harden once more. It continued to do so more and more until it resembled an ice lance without the hilt. Soarin’s eyes widened as the flying icicle neared its target. He raised his sword.

The icicle pushed against his blade and Soarin' pushed back slightly before it shattered with a swing from his blade. The bandit scowled, firing off three more icicles. The Hunter smirked, side stepping two and smashing the third with ease.

“Grr!” the bandit fumed.”Okay, you little punk, try this!” Once more did the bandit create an icicle, unlike the previous ones, it was much larger. Sprouting a grin, he flung the enlarged icicle at the younger Hunter.

Holding his sword in front of him, he blocked it. The force of the icicle was so great it pushed the young Hunter several feet away. As he blocked, Soarin' instinctively knelt closer to the ground.

Realizing he could not withstand the force of the icicle much longer with Soarin's weakened defense. He tucked and rolled out of the way of the giant ice weapon. The icicle smashed into a wall showering Soarin with pieces of ice that cut like tiny razors. He tried to focus on a flame spell that would fry the bandit but a cold feeling at his neck got his attention. Soarin raised his head to find the very thug that threw the icicle was right in front of him and his switchblade was right under Soarin's neck. The cold steel was intensified by the bandit’s ice magic. Soarin’s neck felt as if it was trapped in an iceberg and the sensation began running through Soarin’s entire body.

“Okay. I apologize,” Soarin said, throwing his hands up mockingly. He didn’t know what to do. So Soarin did what he always did when he didn’t have an answer. He talked.

“You will pay for your defiance.” the bandit snarled.

“You definitely know the basics.”

“What?” The bandit questioned.

“I doubted your skills and I'm sorry.”

“We are Frozen Chimera. We are all skilled,” The bandit said as he puffed out his chest.

“So why did your friend get knocked out so easily?”

“Shut up!” He said promptly. As much as he hated to admit it, the man saw Soarin’s point; his partner did get knocked out rather easily. If that idiot had stuck true to his pledge, he would have been able to take far more damage. Even so his face grew redder at the very thought a Hunter could be so correct.

“Why do you gotta be so cold?” Soarin asked mockingly.

“The deathly cold of Tartarus is but a summer breeze next to my ice dagger! You’ll see that for yourself very soon. When you arrive tell them Chien Doh Lo sent you,” the bandit boasted. Frozen Chimera was a gang he was truly proud to call his own. They were great. He would not allow a man such as this mock them.

“Chicken do what?” Soarin pounderd, feigning ignorance. “I don’t think I can remember a name like that. Kinda sounds like a food. Are you a food?”

“Why won’t you shut up!” the bandit screeched, tightening the grip on his blade. A spike of cold lanced up Soarin’s neck. It made his head hurt like he drank too much ice coffee at one time. He could feel that he had enough power to cast the spell.

A grin cracked on the lips of ice swordsman “Because I was buying time. Time to bring out the big guns.”

"Heh. Big guns?" Chien looked at this fool he had at the end of his blade. All he had to do was a quick slash and the child's irritating voice would cease. The idea that this fool would try to scare him almost brought a smile to Chien’s face. Almost. Boredom was setting in and Chien decided to end the Soarin’s life. He gripped the dagger tightly. "What big guns?"

“Ah think he means me,” a voice said from behind the man. Chien turned to find Big Mac cracking his knuckles as he approached the bandit.

“You’re big gun is a friend? I’m disappointed,” Chien said, his smile returning. He still had control of the situation.

“Naw. My big gun is a lot less cool,” Soarin said throwing forward his right arm. From it erupted a wave of intense flames.

“Blaze Tech: Burner Edge.”

Red orange flames engulfed the bandit and the ice blade glowed white for a second then melted away into steam. Now the bandit was lying on the ground screaming. As he did, some of the steam flew into his mouth as he took a breath. His screaming turned into powerful hacking coughs that shook his body.

Mac looked in horror at the sight of the burned twisted thing that once was a living, breathing person. The stink of the charred flesh was nearly enough to make his stomach turn.

He turned to find Soarin’s face held a resolute expression. He was determined to not let such a person that has caused so much pain be allowed to get away with it. The townsfolk were counting on the Hunters and he refused to disappoint them.

His eyes were filled with righteous fury as he walked forward to his former opponent. Both of his arms were raised as if he planned to continue his assault against the fallen bandit. As Soarin brought them down, his arms were caught by something.

He chanced a glance behind him to find Big Mac’s hands gripping onto each of his arms. The grip was tight enough that Soarin' feared it may obstruct his blood veins.

“What-” Soarin began only to then have his mind flooded with intense pain. Mac’s grip on Soarin’s arms grew tighter and tighter until Soarin felt them go numb.

Soarin' threw Mac an angry look and Mac retaliated with an angry expression of his own. Then he proceeded to tighten his grip even more. Soarin’s expression changed to one begging for mercy for his arms. Disgusted, Mac grabbed Soarin' by the hood of his jacket and threw him into a snowbank behind them. “What the heck was that about?!” Soarin' moaned as he picked himself up.

“Don’t kill. That’s one of the guidelines for our school Soarin'. We are never to kill anyone.”

Soarin gave a roll of his eyes. “A guideline is not the same as a law. Guidelines are more like suggestions than anything else. From what I can tell, I’ve prevented this guy from hurting anyone else in the future!”

Mac clenched his fists, his brow lowered. “Yer’re right Soarin', but that doesn’t give ya the right to execute people!”

“You’re right, Big Mac." Soarin replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. What gives me the right to kill people is that I’m a Hunter! Assassination missions are still a thing, Mac!”

“What about the law?”

Soarin marched over to the taller Hunter, eyes burning with anger. “Mac, we’re the law! Whenever Hunters take a mission we take the burden of the law on ourselves. We have to try our damnedest to finish it and protect people. No matter what it takes to do so.”

Mac couldn't believe what spewed from his mouth. Soarin's words cause Mac's rage to boil, fist clenched so tight, he'd fear his gauntlets would crack. Gripping Soarin up by his cover, the fighter brought Soarin's face closer to his own. His breath was hot, carrying a linger scent of apples.

“Listen to me, Gale: This ain’t no assassination mission! It's a rescue! And that-” Mac's free hand shot in the direction of the barely alive man. "Ain't rescuin!"

Soarin struggled to break free from Mac steel grip. A hopeless endeavor.“And what if this guy stabbed us in the back?!"Soarin snapped back." Who would save the kid then? Do you really think even if they did send another team they’d come back in time to do anything?!”

Mac's grip tightened, teeth bared.

“There's gonna be consequences. Beyond the school. You’re a killer now and that part of ya won’t ever change now, Soarin'!” His rage tempered some, he harshly dropped the swordsman back into the snowbank.

Glaring daggers at the large Hunter, Soarin quietly muttered “Good. I don’t want it to.”

A low moan from the bandit grabbed their attention. Mac turned away from Soarin to check out the bandit. Mac’s stomach almost turned when he smelled the burned flesh.

The bandit whispered something. Mac leaned in closer, but he was alert for a trap. The bandit whispered again, “Death comes and I am so afraid.” Mac looked up. Dying alone was one of the most frightening thing a person could do.

“Please don’t let me die alone. Stay with me until I go,” The bandit begged.

“We don’t have time for this,” Soarin spat coldly.

Mac watched as the bandit wheezed and coughed. His breathing was irregular, it won’t be long now before he dies. A whimper made Mac look up. Off to the side there were two old ladies and several children. The bandits we no longer harassing them but they still sat quietly while their large brown eyes looked around for more trouble. Mac walked over to the group.

“Hey, y’all are safe now,” Mac said while thinking of the bandit. “Ah have a favor to ask of ya.”

The taller of the two old women eyed Mac with suspicion. He wondered if she already knew what he was going to ask.

“W-what do you want?” She said while watching Mac warily.

“That man is dying and I just need an act of mercy from you,” Mac said and pointed to the dying bandit.

The taller woman shook her head vigorously. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Oh come now, Sew. The man is injured. The least we can do is give him some kind of mercy,” the shorter woman responded.

“How can you say that, Margey?! If things were reversed, he would just let us bleed into the snow. Let him get what he deserves!”

“But he didn’t do that.”

“Only because he wasn’t given the chance. And thank Heaven for that!”

“But, he didn't!"

“He could have and that is enough!"

Mac sighed. Sew did have a point. They owed this man nothing and Mac's request was pure madness. Have he in their spot, he would have said no, too. However, to leave the man in such a state to die alone would be cruel.

“Ah understand yer anger, but if ya act like the bandits, you are just as bad as they are. All Ah ask is that you hold his hand and let him die with some comfort.” Again Sew shook her head no. Then Margey stepped forward.

“You have to forgive Sew, the bandits promised to do terrible things to her. She's still a bitten shaken from it. I will do as you ask because I believe that all deeds have consequences and they come back to you. To deny this bandit a measure of mercy is heartless. Maybe one day I will need a bit of mercy and I will not get it. Bring him over here and I will see to him.”

“Oh fine. But at least keep the children back. Even a hurt bandit can’t be trusted,” Sew demanded, pushing the children behind her.

Mac bowed to Margey then he walked to the groaning bandit. “I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.” He placed his arms under the bandit and was planning to drag him when Soarin grabbed the bandit’s legs. Mac was surprised at Soarin’s action for a second. Together they carried the bandit to Margey. Sew led the children away so they wouldn’t see the bandit pass.

Margey grasped the bandit’s hand firmly. The man who chose the life of a bandit smiled briefly. Screams and shouts echoed down the street. Soarin and Mac glanced down the block.

Sew smiled and pointed. “Please help my neighbors!” As the Hunters left, Soarin took one last glance back. He saw that Margery was closing the now dead man’s eyes.

~~~~

At the heart of the town, Ymir Square, the Hunters gazed upon a saddening scene. All the windows from the stores were smashed. Precious foodstuffs lay in piles in the dirty snow. Bandits were threatening and beating the townsfolk. In the middle of the chaos and screams, a sly voice urged the bandits.

“Now, now, everyone. Try to be reasonable,” A man standing in the center spoke. “We do not wish to cause you any harm. All we merely want is any valuables you have and we shall be on our way.”

The citizens around the area felt themselves as ants under the weight of a large boot. The man before them was a giant. To Mac, the guy seemed to be at least seven feet tall. His white beard hung down to his waist. In his face, two blue eyes blazed. A grin formed on his pale white mouth as he continued.

“It would be a shame if some misfortune fell upon you. I’d feel simply awful if that happened.” He spoke with fake sincerity.

The people trembled at the large man. He had a certain commanding presence. Even so neither the man’s size nor his presence was what they feared the most. It was his words. As he spoke they felt in them was nothing but sincerity. They wondered could they have been wrong to condemn the man. Was he truly sorry for what had befallen them? Perhaps if they gave him what he wanted he and his gang would leave this time. Then they would be free from the pain their mayor had brought down on them for her stubbornness.

“H-how do we know you’re telling the truth this time?” An elderly man spoke up. “You said something similar before and yet here you are! Terrorizing us again!”

“Aw yes,” the man chuckled as if remembering an amusing joke. “We had to terrorize you that time. You told us you gave us all your valuables. And then we discovered you lied to us. We’re terrorizing you on principle. So please do the right thing. And hand them over. Then we’ll leave.”

“What about the mayor’s son?” Another voice shouted.

“He’d leave with us of course. Your mayor is quite vindictive. We’d only keep him long enough to escape.”

“You mean you’d leave him alive long enough to use him as leverage to escape?!” the old man accused.

“Every day live is a precious thing. Surely someone as old as you has already learned that lesson of life. If not I can remind you,” the large man said with a monstrous grin. The old man cringed as though he was expecting a harsh blow.

That made the large man’s grin wider. “Now, one of my kind associates will remind you of your position in the scheme of things.” One bandit walked up to the elderly man and punched him hard in the gut. The poor man doubled over gasping.

While this was going on, Soarin and Mac watched from behind a building’s corner. The quick glimpses of the bandit’s bouts of mayhem were enough to make the Hunters angry. A red glow covered Soarin’s arm but Mac tapped him. The glow faded.

Soarin frowned. “Is that the leader?”

Mac shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We need to strike them soon before more townsfolk are hurt.”

Meanwhile in the square, a brave townsman managed to do a leg sweep on a bandit. He hit the ground hard and was stunned. Then the townsman grabbed a club and started swinging away at a nearby bandit. Before the bandit could strike back, the ground rose up under his feet and tossed him into the air. It took a second before he landed hard onto the ground. Then another bandit is hurled into the dark night sky by a pillar made of snow covered soil. The rest of the bandits spread out casting fearful glances all over the area and the treacherous ground.

Their leader looked at them and howled. “The cursed ground hasn’t turned against you fools! Someone is doing magic around here! Find them or I start cracking' heads!” He said as he shook his big fists at them.

The bandits turned their black, beady eyes to the area around them. A red orange fireball streaked across the town square and hit a bandit. He burst into flames screaming. One of his buddies pushed him into a snow bank.

The leader sighed and closed his eyes. Then he started to breathe slowly. Every exhale lowered the temperature of the square. Everyone in the square could see their breaths as white clouds and a chill started to gnaw into their clothes. Just when it seemed like things were just too cold, the bandit leader exhaled a great gust of wind. It grew like a blizzard, picking up snow and tossing it into the eyes of the folks in the square. Then it spread out of the square.

A few seconds later, the wind brought back two half frozen hunters. They shivered in the grasp of the bandit leader’s magic. For a few moments the hunters were floating above the bandits like they were on display then the spell just dumped them in front of the bandit leader.

“D-damn.” Mac cursed. “I can’t move. T-T-Too cold.”

“C-crap.” Soarin hacked. “This guys i-ice magic is nuts. C-can’t feel my legs! I c-can’t even make any flames.”

The leader grinned at the pathetic state of the Hunters. He had expected that the vile woman would employ such help. He had to admire their confidence.

“So you two are the Hunters, eh? You took out a couple of my men. That is quite a feat. Despite what followed. What rank are you two?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Soarin snarled in defiance.

“They wouldn’t have bothered to send a D rank. And a B rank wouldn’t have been stupid enough to get caught. So I take it you’re a C rank.”

“So what about it?”

“Tsk, tsk. The Hunters must be losing their touch. I remember there was a time when even a C rank Hunter could frighten anyone to their core. I guess the Hunters must have gotten sloppy.”

“Shut up!” Soarin snapped as flame erupted from his body. In a fit of uncontrollable rage, he charged at the much bigger man. The leader evaded the attack and grabbed Soarin’s neck. Within a single second his hand covered the young Hunter’s neck. The next second Soarin felt the wind begin to leave his body. Before it all could exit the man dropped Soarin to the floor. Soarin gasped desperate to reclaim his lost air.

“Where are ya holding the kid?” Mac demanded. He had to distract the leader somehow. He couldn’t let the fighting continue. Even Mac realized the stupidity of what he asked.

“What do I gain from telling you that?"

“Ah'll be gentle when ah'm smashin yer face in the ground!" The fighter hissed.

The leader burst out a hearty laugh. “I like you boys. That’s why I didn’t kill your friend here."With that statement, he dropped Soarin on the frozen ground. Soarin began to cough heavily as he rubbed his throat.

The leader shifted his glaze back to the bound Hunter. "I can see you two have a lot of potential. So what do you say about joining my little gang?”

Mac’s jaw dropped. Hunters joining a group of bandits? This man could not be serious.

“Yer kiddin’ right?” Mac asked, glaring daggers at the leader “Ain’t no way in hell we’d ever think about joining’ y’all!”

“That is before you showed to us how strong you are,” Soarin said as he picked himself up. “We’ll join you.”

"WHAT?!"  Mac's head snapped in Soarin's direction.

The leader released another hearty laugh. "Smart boy."

Mac glared furiously at his blue haired ally. As he stared, Mac felt his ice restraints dissolve into normal water. All except for a pair of ice cuffs that hung from his hands. Mac noticed Soarin went without cuffs.

“I don't think you'll be needing those cuffs." The leader said, a chilling smile growing on his lips.  "Go get your friend’s weapon and leave you katana with me. We’d like to hold them. Beautiful pieces of work they are."

“Of course,” Soarin said as he removed his katana and gave it to the hulking man. With that done, he went over to Mac. The terra magic user was in shock, so much that he didn't bother resisting as Soarin removed his gauntlets. Returning to the leader, he offered both the gauntlets and his own sword.

“So, you gotta a name or should I just call you ‘boss’?” Soarin inquired.

To this did the leader chuckle. “Mangoro Belia. You should get used to calling me by that. All my subordinates do,” he said giving a small smile.

Mac stared in disbelief at the younger Hunter. For him to easily betray not only the poor people of this town, but his self respect and pride as a Hunter. Though, in some strange way, Mac felt some relief. That incident with the bandit was no exception to Soarin, it was the rule.

His conclusion then was right.

This turn showed him what kind of person Soarin really was: a disgusting human being.