FOUR

My day off. I’ve been looking forward to this. 

My interaction with the Hunter, whose name I never caught, was undeniably taxing. Fran and Jessa spent last night speaking very little about their experience with him. Fran seemed calm, soothed by the fact that he is far more normal than we predicted. Jessa however, woke up this morning dusting makeup onto her face again. When I questioned her about it, she dismissed me, denying her desire to impress the client. 

Today, I’m not going to worry about that. Him. This is my day off, and I’m going to spend it doing what I came here to do. 

Preach. 

The streets are padded with snow, tendrils of frost encrusted against the corners of the stained-glass windows I approach. Bars like this one are usually seen as unsavoury places, especially at this time of the day. But on a Sunday afternoon, after a heavy snowfall, this is the only open place where people would be gathered.

The people drawn to this bar during mid-afternoon are desperate, lonely and usually short-tempered, but this has been my first opportunity to get some preaching done, so I can report my success back to my family.

Pushing open the doors, I let the scent of yeast, unmopped floors and dirty shoes hit me square in the face. Unpleasant, but preaching usually is.

I spy my first target. A man sitting at the bar, leaning over a half-empty glass.

He's one of the few people in here. One group speaks casually around a small table in the corner, gambling, no doubt. The man I approach is fair haired - an uncommon sight in the Azure Province. As I glide into the wooden seat beside him, he glances up, further into his adulthood than I first assumed.

"Excuse me sir, may I have a moment of your time?" I ask, jumping into conversation right away.

He shifts, leaning an elbow against the bar, drink forgotten. He reeks like alcohol, likely here to forget something. He may be on the verge of drunkenness, but I still hold onto hope that some of my words will resonate with him. Although, as I lay my small book upon the surface of the bar, the forest green cover with golden lettering glittering under the light above us, his expression sours.

The way his gaze finds mind, half-lidded and lazy, has my heart soaring into my throat. "You can have all my time if you're wanting it."

"Uh, I have a Tani, that I'm spreading awareness on."

"Tani? How interesting."

There's no bite to his tone, only feigned interest. He leans his head against his palm, smiling at me. He's not trying to be nice, I can sense it. He's luring me, perhaps seducing me; I'm not a fool. He's likely a useless patron to target, but nonetheless, I persist. It's either this, or sitting in the snow, waiting for someone to wander past while my clothes soak through.

"My Tani is a Guardian, we call him The Beast. He blesses us with brilliant crops each year, as long as people pray," I explain to him, flipping open my book.

My scribbled handwriting, almost toppling upon itself, is impossible to read. But the picture, a drawing of what we imagine the beast looks like. Dark fur, green eyes, clawless. A Beast, but not a threat.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am. Has anyone ever told you that?" he inquiries, his tone making me feel ill. Balancing on one foot, he pulls his chair closer, until our knees practically touch. As much as I want to pull away, I remain where I am. Mother always told me that preaching is about building a relationship, trust. I cannot do that while being repulsed by him.

But I still make a note to clear my throat, hoping to draw a boundary.

"So, I'm here to ensure that as many people pray on the night of the Plantation. I was wondering-"

"I was wondering something too. Forget this Tani bullshit. Have a drink with me," he mutters, the edge of his tone slurred. He motions to the vacant bartender, nodding at him. I swallow, my throat drying painfully. I don't drink alcohol, and I never had. It's a mixture of disinterest and the fact that it was never common in my village.

"I don't drink, Sir. See, I'm here to speak about my Tani," I say more firmly, pushing the book toward him further. My patience is wearing, but I remain still, calm. This is important, and I've been trained to deal with men like this.

He leans forward in his seat, leaning an elbow sleazily against the edge of the bar. "And I'm here to get you to spend the night with me."

Anger washes over me, slow and hot, but I don't let it define my expression. That is, until the man grabs my wrist, grip tight.

The bartender comes over to bring my drink, but as he goes to slide it across a bar toward me, a hand comes out from behind me and grabs it. "I'll take that, thank you."

I immediately bristle, feeling his proximity right at my back. His voice glides over my skin, his scent joining in eliciting shivers throughout me. I don't turn my head to look at him, as he sits on the seat next to me, leaning over the bar, focusing his attention not on me, but the man I had been preaching to.

"That's for the lady, Summoner freak," the man growls, real anger creeping into his tone.

"I would watch what you say to me," the Hunter says, voice calm yet firm, daring the man test him. "Now get your hands off her, before she kicks you in the balls, and you become the last of your bloodline."

Slowly, I drag my gaze over to him. In the light of day, he looks so much more magical. The marking on his forehead is much more detailed than I remember, shifting between hues of frosted silver and deep blues. The dusting of colour disappears beneath a fringe of bronze hair, rippled with shades of copper and shadows of black. It falls like snow, almost, ending at his eyebrows, looking alive but never moving.

I'm not surprised he is here, but that he intervened. His words leave both me and the stranger shuddering, the threat lingering in the air dangerously.

Wordlessly, the man stands, stumbling his way to the exit. I loosen a breath, unclenching my fists.

"Thanks, I guess," I find myself, although I don't let my words form into actual appreciation. Whether the man was being forward or not, I have a job to do. But I will acknowledge the glimmer of pleasure I get at the idea of this Hunter letting me dish out my own punishment to the man.

“I never got your name. I’m Marek," he offers. A white flag.

Had I imagined the Hunter, Marek, would come to this bar today, I would have avoided it, despite my duty. Realistically, I don't think he is dangerous. The marking on his forehead is physical proof he hasn't used his magical abilities in a very long time, so I doubt he will use it on me. Yet I can't shake the uncomfortable feeling I get around him.

“Akara," I murmur.

"Well, Akara, shouldn't come into bar's to preach. Men here don't take kindly to foreigners," he remarks. I find his eyes again, trying to see into them, but there's nothing but a cornflower blue painted wall, hiding his intentions.

I narrow my eyes. "What would you know? I thought you came from far reaching places."

"I do. But this is home birth village," he admits. The shock that reaches my expression isn't feigned. Marek is clearly Azure Province born, it's written all over his sharp features and Summoner abilities. Yet Jessa made it sound like the Hunter didn't have a home, and he goes wherever his duties take him. Whatever those duties may be...

"Then why not stay at home?"

"It was burnt down a long time ago. I don't come here enough to justify rebuilding it," he explains, draining the drink the man from earlier had paid for. I eye the white foam it leaves behind at the bottom of his glass, wondering how far I would have gone to impress this man.

"Why are you here then, Hunter?" I ask, letting my own curiosity guide me. Maybe this will be the last time we cross paths, before he moves on to the next town. Any fear, any ire has reduced down to a gentle hum, to match the dull chatter of the men not far from us. Safe, for now. In this bar, it's unlikely Marek has any intentions other than a discussion.

He shrugs, shoulders loose. "Nostalgia, I suppose."

“Well, I’m here to preach. So I better get going," I tell him, remembering my duty. Marek watches with keen eyes, as I slide my book across the bar, tucking it safely into my coat.

“Wait," he cuts in, reaching for my wrist. The grip makes me flinch. Noticing my discomfort, he pulls away. "Preach to me.”

I'm shocked into silence for a fleeting moment. No one has ever expressed interest in hearing about my Tani, and I especially didn't think anyone here would want to listen to a Jade Province girl. Yet Marek regards me with cool interest, prompting me continue my talk.

“You’re interested in Tani? Do you have one?” I ask softly. It's not an unusual question, but I'm curious. If the rumour Jessa expressed is right, then I know exactly what he thinks of Tani.

"I'm interested in you," he breathes. I blink, once, twice, before I clear my throat. He shakes his head, looking down at his hands which spin his empty glass around distractedly. “To be complete honest, I’ve been hunting one down to kill for a very long time. Hence the affectionate term people have chosen for me.”

Hunter. I swallow, that uncomfortable feeling fluttering over to me now. Shamefully, I fell for all the gossip, even if some of it was in fact true.

“Predator?”

“To most people. It’s the Snow Demon” he says warily, expecting a more dramatic reaction from me, but admittedly, I know little about the Snow Demon, other than it is native to the Azure Province.  “Tell me about your Tani.”

“The Beast. We hear him a lot at night, which was always important to me for whenever I had doubt; it reaffirmed my belief," I find myself, diverting away from the script my little green book suggests, which is still pressed against my ribcage. I'm unsure of what Marek actually wants to know, but I doubt it's about Plantation day and the prays we need.

"Powerful?"

"Very. At least that's what the history tells us. He has magic, that gives us plentiful crops," I tell him. Even as I preach, I struggle to explain the joy those form my village get when our crops turn up healthy and wonderful each year. The celebrations that lingered long into the light, the dances under moonlight, the songs that would be sung.

It's sad to realise I won't be witnessing that this year.

"Have you ever thought of your Tani to be a predator?" Marek asks tentatively, anticipating my reaction. It's an honest, genuine question, but it does strike me right between my ribs, leaving me with a lasting ache.

"No, of course not. He provides us with all we need year round," I respond quickly.

Marek nods, the softest smile touching his lips. "Interesting. Thank you for explaining your belief to me. I know a lot of people can be sensitive about it, but you more than deserve to be heard."

A warmth fills me, fluttering up to touch my face with a smile. Marek is being kinder than I ever could have anticipated, willing to sit here and ask me genuine questions and appear interested. Not to mention, he saved me from embarrassment with the stranger, who could have done anything to me if no one interrupted.

I want to thank him more, but as I look at him, knowing that once he leaves, I will never see him again I decide it's time to leave, getting off the stool.

"Thank you for listening," I say honestly, before I tighten my coat around me. "Goodnight Marek."

He doesn't respond, as I walk out the door.