Chapter Four ▏The Dagger

The Hunt is for Nobles who want to have a place of power, also for Exiles who wish to be reintegrated into the Kingdom. The forests of Bellari are known to house the most dangerous creatures, which is why it's usually not a popular choice for The Hunt.

No one has come back from there. No one. Ever.

Some of my professors when I was young said that Bellari's forests still carry the trace of the Supernaturals, the powerful creatures who used to rule Acantha along with humans. The Shadow Wolves are the leaders of the Supernatural, and they're all males. They mated with the female humans who are blessed by the moon goddess, called the Daughters of the Moon. The Alpha of the wolves and the chosen Luna rule the Kingdom. 

But of course, that system was broken. The Supernaturals abused their power. The humans staged a protest and overthrew the government. The Wolves and the Daughters were all killed, while the rest of the Supernaturals were hunted to extinction.

Some say that strange creatures marked by the Supernaturals still linger in Bellari, but my history professor for ten years have shut down that myth many times before.

"No survivors were left," Sir Acheron told me. "Your ancestors have made sure that no trace of the evil Supernaturals would be found anywhere in Acantha. I have personally journeyed in Bellari and found no strange activity. I think it's just a stunt from their government, to try and pull people in. Tourism."

Perhaps this is true. I mean, I believe him. But this doesn't erase the fact that I'm going to face a very dangerous situation.

After Father left my bedroom, I just sat there on the dirty floor, debating whether or not I'll take his challenge. 

"It would be suicide!" I heard Uncle Osman's voice from outside the door. "Odion, my brother, think about this. It's your daughter's life on the line!"

"That child is not my daughter," Father answered, then I hear his heavy footsteps going away.

Uncle Osman knocked on my door, so I jumped on my bed and pretended to be asleep. He didn't come in, but I stayed there anyway. I lied there until I fell asleep on my tear stained pillows. 

It was pretty uncomfortable. I don't even remember falling asleep, actually. All I know is that when I woke up, the sky was already tinged with orange in the horizon.

Dawn. It's already dawn, time to leave for The Hunt.

Should I talk Father out of it? Or should I take on the challenge?

I get up, rubbing my eyes with a deep sigh. The answer is becoming clearer and clearer in my head. I'm about to go out when my bedroom door opens.

It's Uncle Osman.

"Elora." He offers me a small smile. "Would you like me to accompany you to talk to your father, or would you. . . ."

He falters, and I know what's on his mind. I know that he doesn't want me to go. He's more of a father to me than the King is, and this warms my heart. 

But I know what I must do. 

"Let's go," I just say. "You know what I choose."

* * * * * *

"You know it's dangerous," Uncle Osman says as I secure a knife in my belt. "You can't go alone, Elora."

"I have to, Uncle." I look at him momentarily before turning my attention to the displays of swords. "Father was right. I did disgrace him, but you of all people know how hard I worked to be the proper heir. I have to regain my honor."

We're at the armory in the dungeons, where I headed to right after I left my bedroom. Uncle Osman followed me and tried to talk me out of it, even after I changed into my beige hunting gear and packed some supplies. 

And judging by the way he's trailing behind me as I inspect weapons, I can safely say that he's still trying to make me back out.

"I know how you feel," he begins calmly, but I can still feel his resistance. "But my dear, this is madness."

"It's not." I wheel around to face him, my gaze steady on his. Sometimes it still shocks me how much he looks like Father, only shorter and a little less lean. "It's something I must do. Now please, if you just followed me here to discourage me, just leave. I won't change my mind."

Uncle Osman opens his mouth to object, but no sound comes out. He just stands there, challenging me with his eyes. When I don't falter, he sighs and finally asks, "Will you at least let me ferry you to Bellari?"

As far as I know, that's not against the rules. Also, I think Father would be glad to know that I'm being carried out of the palace as fast as possible. 

"Alright," I say, flashing him a tiny smile of gratitude. "I'll let you ferry me. Thank you, Uncle."

He bows to me as though I'm a real princess, then he promptly exits the armory. I wait for him to disappear before turning back to the displays of weapons.

This isn't the first time I've been here. On top of educational training, I've also engaged myself in physical training, particularly when it comes to combat and weapons. I've gone hunting with Uncle Osman and my mentors a couple of times, and while I can't confidently say I'm remarkable, I think I'm good enough to survive.

The rest is up to me and my will. And the gods know how bad I want to succeed.

I take a quiver of silver arrows as well as a matching silver bow. Then I take a double edged sword with a scabbard. They all have the Capital insignia etched onto them: swords crossed over a scroll.

I always found this insignia a little strange, especially the scroll, but now my curiosity is piqued. It was never discussed to me. Not in the books, not with my professors. No one.

Frowning, I bring the hilt of the sword closer to my eyes and further inspect it, but then I hear slow footsteps behind me.

I turn around and point the sword at no other than . . . Hendrik.

"Whoa, easy there." He raises his palms in surrender. "I come in peace. Don't attack me. Don't even make a noise. I was never here, you understand?"

"What?" I demand loudly, and he hurriedly clamps a hand on my mouth.

"Shh, I'm not supposed to be here." Hendrik looks around before reaching into the pocket of his uniform. He extracts a small pouch made of straw. "Take this. Make sure it's always with you wherever you go. Bellari is dangerous." He frowns thoughtfully. "Well, everywhere outside this palace is dangerous."

"What?" I push his hand off my mouth, but I decide to match his volume and whisper, "What are you talking about? Acantha is a safe place. You're talking like everyone's crazy outside the palace."

He lets out a short, dry laugh before turning to go. "I guess I'll just let you see. In the meantime, follow my advice if you want to survive."

"There's no apocalypse happening outside," I say irritably. "The Royal Family is running the entire kingdom smoothly. The only thing I have to worry about is finding a beast and killing it in Bellari."

"Good luck with that," Hendrik says blandly. "But as I was saying, take that with you all the time. No fails. It could be the only thing that's going to make a difference between life and death."

This cheap thing? Oh, this guy is delusional. I can't believe I thought he's gorgeous before. He's a nutter.

"So I'm off." He pauses by the entrance and gives me a salute. "Happy birthday."

Birthday. He's right, it's my birthday today, and I forgot. It seems that everyone around me but him forgot as well. 

But it doesn't matter, does it? I'm being banished to do a quest just as I turned twenty-one. The only way I can get that throne is by returning. No other way.

"Good luck to you." He tilts his head. "You'll need it."

"Hey!" I call after him, but he's already gone. I open the package he gave me and inside is a small dagger made of black stone. There's a rough shape carved onto its handle, but I can't make out what it is.

So he gave me a blunt dagger with a nonsense symbol. This thing is supposed to make a difference between life and death?

Yeah, right. I can't even stab butter with this hunk of rock.

"Thanks for nothing," I mumble, then I exit the armory. 

The back entrance of the palace is usually the passage for those who want to come in or out. Personally I have never done either, so my nerves get even more tangled when I see that the metal gates are opened.

And inside a blue carriage pulled by two palomino horses, is Uncle Osman. 

"You ready?" he calls out, making space for me.

I take one look at the palace, a grand structure of smooth white marble and glass. My solitude. My home. And I'm about to leave for the first time.

Maybe the last time too.

Uncle Osman peeks out from the carriage. "Elora?"

I face him. "I'm ready."