Mr Kolm rushed towards the giant wolf with his sword drawn soon as he saw me holding it down. I saw the ferocious, horizontal trajectory of his blade. Had it connected, the giant’s hindleg would have broken in half. But the beast dodged to the side, watching the man with his red eyes with dull curiosity. ‘It won’t hold long!’ I yelled. And indeed, as Ms Olsberg shot, it jerked its head and broke free of my shackles, crumbling the arms I had conjured. It jumped, avoiding Mr Mason’s sneak attack. All the while, our hunting hound kept barking.
‘It is difficult,’ I muttered, watching the beast that was observing us. It had distanced itself, not letting us surround it. ‘What now?’ I asked.
‘We continue,’ said Ms Olsberg. It was a battle between a giant and men; persistence was the key to victory. I was thinking about what magic to use when I saw the woman pointing her revolver at the beast. And without a warning, one after another, shots were fired. In quick succession, with accuracy, the bullets left the long barrel. But the beast did not fall to its demise. It dodged them all. The first hit the tree behind it; the second barely grazed its shoulder joint; the third, aimed at its stomach, did not even graze; the fourth and fifth went past its head, drawing only a trickle of blood from the pointed tip of its ears. ‘Empty chamber,’ said Ms Olsberg while reloading her revolver, her face turning a darker shade of solemn.
I too did not stay idle. I had pride, and I was not willing to stand back while my colleagues drew all the blood. I require a deadly method; water won’t work, I thought. ‘Please entertain it for a moment,’ I requested of the two men while casting magic. Heeding me, they drew back, shooting the magnificent beast with their revolvers. Their speed and accuracy were nothing like the green-eyed woman’s. Those shots seemed unenthusiastic, but they kept the giant occupied.
And soon, to the rhythm of my fingers, three earthen spears rose from the ground in front of me. I had poured four flasks in that place. I carried no more water, and that was not without thought. ‘You shall serve me till the end of this battle,’ I murmured, fantasising about a will that Earth did not possess. ‘Duck!’ I yelled and chuckled, finding it rather funny.
The two men ducked while Ms Olsberg, having reloaded her revolver, fired two shots. The spears, coloured in a reddish-brown shade, sped up, tearing the air. It was a terrifying sound, and the wolf, having dodged the bullets, found itself in the path of it. I saw its eyes turn a sparkling red. It was interested. I knew it was interested, for it was pierced through one shoulder while it dodged two others. But I was not so willing to let it be. My hand moved, and the spears drew back, targeting its mane, and the beast dodged them again. Meanwhile, Mr Kolm and Mr Mason sped towards it, their coats fluttering behind them.
Mr Mason took an indirect approach, reaching it from behind, while Mr Kolm approached from the front. Neither attack connected, but a thud resounded. Mr Kolm was thrown into a tree by the furious claws that would have ripped him apart had it not been for his quick reflexes and the sturdy sword.
‘Heis!’ yelled Mr Mason, hoping for a reply. I was terrified that it would not come, but the burly man raised a hand, indicating he was conscious at the least. I breathed a sigh of relief. But now, we were one man down, and the beast seemed no less harmful. How does it attack with its claws so? Its strength was unreasonable.
‘No more giant killing,’ said Ms Olsberg, a grave demeanour on her face. ‘Before it turns bloody, end it.’ But that was not to be. Even though we altered our approach — a smart and flexible decision — we would find ourselves in a deadlock multiple times. The only saving grace was the one injury I had managed to apply.
Our battle continued for more than ten minutes. One might think that a battle of ten minutes was short, but what do they know? They have never fought. I used to be one of those loudmouths. It is tiring, unnerving, and worrying. The sweat and fear do little to aid. The beast had come to swallow me and Ms Olsberg multiple times. Had it not been for my spears, the woman’s quick decisions, and Mr Mason, I would be dead. I had reached — so many times — the open jaw of the beast. I had seen its sharp teeth as if I was inside its mouth, and I had smelt the ghastly breath. If Ms Olsberg had not grabbed and pulled me aside, I would have been one very bony meal. And I was conflicted if I should be a delightful one or the kind that leaves one tearing in vomit.
Still, the battle continued. When fighting a giant, time slows down, I came to understand with each attempt to fell the beast. Its brilliant red eyes, glowing with a gleam, and the left shoulder that bled gave the pure white wolf a beauty of terror and majesty under the big, scarlet moon. I too watched it with admiration while my spears endeavoured to end its life. The earthen spear, lodged between its joint, allowed it less freedom while I assaulted the giant continuously. As time kept passing, my worries worsened. I had thoughts that the soil may be drying. The spears may turn brittle if they dry. I had not researched this, and now, I was regretting.
Into the night, the loud sound of revolvers — courtesy of a very close Ms Olsberg and an injured Mr Kolm who sat leaning against the trunk of a tree — rang. It made my poor ears buzz, but I ignored it along with my aching back. I bit my lips and continued the assault. This is nothing compared to the terror of that day, I told myself, hypnotising my mind. The battle continued. By now, I had become exemplary at dodging. One might even say I was the best; the one being me.
‘Accelerate,’ I whispered. Quickly, the two spears spun like a corkscrew mid-air, reaching for the wolf’s neck while Mr Mason sneaked upon it. The white beauty dodged my blows, and seeing its exhausted state, I felt it. This is my chance. I quickly, very instinctively commanded the lodged spear. Every bit of moisture was gathered in the tip that stuck out, and it exploded in a muddy splatter. The beast heeded its instincts. It should not have. It turned its head, away from harm, and that beautiful sword, drawing a magnificent curve under the red moon, connected to its forelimb. It was chopped off, cleanly.
The wolf fell, howling for the first time. I had hoped for a whimper, but its spirits weren’t broken. The man — with his sharp eyes and a sudden spurt — thrust the sword into the beast’s neck. It was an unconventional, quick manoeuvre, and the blade was not made for piercing; it did not reach past the first layer of its hide. I saw the dismay in Mr Mason’s eyes as the sword he so proudly held was thrown to the side by that clenched jaw.
Those brilliant red eyes, like the rubies of Sandun, shone seeing me. But it was too late. My green-eyed colleague, the woman who bore a bloody grin, had already fired shots with a beautiful stance — cross-legged with one arm behind. In the brilliant scarlet world, a grin and a pair of emerald eyes left me mesmerised. ‘Good hunting, Professor,’ said the woman smilingly, as two bullets passed through the beast’s temple. I heard a low screech that ended abruptly and a thud that rang.
After a battle fought over a quarter of an hour, the beast had fallen. And I believed, Marcus would have had an easier time slaying giants had he been accompanied by a respectable green-eyed lady. She must terrify even the strangest of beasts. ‘Good hunting…’ I whimpered, dispelling my magic.
***
After the battle, we took a much-needed respite. Tired bodies, harsh breaths, a frail professor, an injured colleague — we had many reasons to take one. So, I sat there, leaning against a tree, watching Mr Mason nurse Mr Kolm. ‘His ribs are broken,’ said the man, inspecting that wide chest. I wondered if it was rather provocative towards Ms Olsberg, but the woman did not seem the least bit interested. She did not gawk nor evade the scene. Unlike me, she did not seem impressed. I looked back at that figure. Just below the chest, above the stomach, I noticed a blackish-blue tint over a patch of reddened skin. Those were the signs of internal bleeding. I knew a little about this and a little about that. The human body was one of those this and that.
I sighed. ‘I— How many?’ I asked the man. I was about to say I am tired, but I felt now was not the right time to moan in misery; my injured colleague didn’t even groan. While I waited for Mr Mason’s answer, a gust blew, and I felt revived. The silent forest was unnerving me, and the sweat had left me in a childish, internal tantrum. At least, Ms Olsberg shared her bag of water with me, I thought. I had returned it quickly, afraid I may start playing with its contents. Woes of a mage, I called it.
‘Two, I believe,’ Mr Mason replied after inspecting the wound. ‘The vest helped lessen the trauma.’ His eyes pointed at the padded vest the injured man had been wearing. I looked at Mr Mason. He looked much better standing up than while inspecting another man’s chest. He walked up to me and Ms Olsberg in large strides and asked, ‘What shall we do’ — his chin pointed at the man that lay in pain — ‘with him?’ I wondered if they thought the same thing that I did, but often times I thought terrible thoughts, so I did not speak.
I looked at Ms Olsberg. She too did not seem very sure of what shall be done. Currently, we sat in a field of corpses as if roses bloomed all around. We cared neither for the blood that seeped nor the hound that sniffed the dead beasts’ behinds. We could not have seemed less unhygienic and thoughtless, yet the green-eyed woman had a frown. ‘I would like to continue…’ she murmured in her predicament. Those words were very terrifying to me. Either I was weak or the woman had lost her sanity. After all this, you wish to continue? Our colleague seemed to be in a mortal plight, and I was a professor, not a warrior. ‘It would be such a waste to return; we even have the Professor with us…’ I no more questioned her sanity. I was extremely pleased with the woman. The sanest, I deemed her. I had complete approval for her plans whatever they may be. Why not venture further? Of course, why not! You have the Professor with you!
‘Then, what about Heis?’ Mr Mason asked. There was worry in his eyes. ‘We cannot abandon him, and he can’t afford to fight or move frantically. It will get worse the further we let him be. He needs medical services.’ Ms Olsberg nodded. She seemed to be troubled, and I could understand why. She had a duty, and ending it so abruptly was a thing of much disgrace.
The woman soon gave a sigh. She was about to say something — presumably orders of retreat — when we heard movement past the bushes. Alert, we leapt to our feet. The sound of rustling bushes was mixed with the footsteps that felt heavy. And while Ms Olsberg lowered her revolver, our visitors appeared, pruning and cutting what stood in their way. I felt the wind picking up, and the light of the scarlet moon too wavered as clouds brushed past it. ‘It is allies,’ said the man in front of the group that had approached us. It was Theodore Harris, the leader of this little venture. His wide eyes were inspecting the scene we had created. He gave a quick nod as if to say, Impressive. I did spot signs of astonishment and wonder in the eyes of his six followers. Six? I wondered, looking at the black-uniformed men observing the large corpse. That was an odd number. Six is an even number, said my internal voice. Well, yes, but I meant what I meant; you know what I meant, correct? Do I?
The conversation between Ms Olsberg and Mr Harris continued while I busied myself in the noblest of ventures — bickering with a charming internal voice.
‘You were supposed to be further north, Captain,’ said the green-eyed woman. ‘Did something happen?’ The man was not much of a talker, and I assumed this conversation would not go far.
‘Urgency everywhere,’ he said, not taking his eyes off the red-eyed beast’s corpse. ‘I managed to rescue one team with the loss of a man before rushing your way. We heard continuous gunshots from this direction.’ I assumed it should. The night was mostly silent if not for the beasts attempting to steal our lives. Why did we not hear your gunshots?
‘We were ambushed,’ Ms Olsberg replied without a second thought. ‘I assume you too?’ Her green eyes shone brilliantly as she questioned her superior. But the man did not seem to mind. He was a strange but calm man.
He nodded. ‘Yes. It seems we did not need to rush.’ His eyes finally left the beast. They travelled from Ms Olsberg to me, Mr Kolm to Mr Mason. And underneath the apprehensive scarlet moon, he said, ‘Good hunting.’
Mr Kolm rushed towards the giant wolf with his sword drawn soon as he saw me holding it down. I saw the ferocious, horizontal trajectory of his blade. Had it connected, the giant’s hindleg would have broken in half. But the beast dodged to the side, watching the man with his red eyes with dull curiosity. ‘It won’t hold long!’ I yelled. And indeed, as Ms Olsberg shot, it jerked its head and broke free of my shackles, crumbling the arms I had conjured. It jumped, avoiding Mr Mason’s sneak attack. All the while, our hunting hound kept barking.
‘It is difficult,’ I muttered, watching the beast that was observing us. It had distanced itself, not letting us surround it. ‘What now?’ I asked.
‘We continue,’ said Ms Olsberg. It was a battle between a giant and men; persistence was the key to victory. I was thinking about what magic to use when I saw the woman pointing her revolver at the beast. And without a warning, one after another, shots were fired. In quick succession, with accuracy, the bullets left the long barrel. But the beast did not fall to its demise. It dodged them all. The first hit the tree behind it; the second barely grazed its shoulder joint; the third, aimed at its stomach, did not even graze; the fourth and fifth went past its head, drawing only a trickle of blood from the pointed tip of its ears. ‘Empty chamber,’ said Ms Olsberg while reloading her revolver, her face turning a darker shade of solemn.
I too did not stay idle. I had pride, and I was not willing to stand back while my colleagues drew all the blood. I require a deadly method; water won’t work, I thought. ‘Please entertain it for a moment,’ I requested of the two men while casting magic. Heeding me, they drew back, shooting the magnificent beast with their revolvers. Their speed and accuracy were nothing like the green-eyed woman’s. Those shots seemed unenthusiastic, but they kept the giant occupied.
And soon, to the rhythm of my fingers, three earthen spears rose from the ground in front of me. I had poured four flasks in that place. I carried no more water, and that was not without thought. ‘You shall serve me till the end of this battle,’ I murmured, fantasising about a will that Earth did not possess. ‘Duck!’ I yelled and chuckled, finding it rather funny.
The two men ducked while Ms Olsberg, having reloaded her revolver, fired two shots. The spears, coloured in a reddish-brown shade, sped up, tearing the air. It was a terrifying sound, and the wolf, having dodged the bullets, found itself in the path of it. I saw its eyes turn a sparkling red. It was interested. I knew it was interested, for it was pierced through one shoulder while it dodged two others. But I was not so willing to let it be. My hand moved, and the spears drew back, targeting its mane, and the beast dodged them again. Meanwhile, Mr Kolm and Mr Mason sped towards it, their coats fluttering behind them.
Mr Mason took an indirect approach, reaching it from behind, while Mr Kolm approached from the front. Neither attack connected, but a thud resounded. Mr Kolm was thrown into a tree by the furious claws that would have ripped him apart had it not been for his quick reflexes and the sturdy sword.
‘Heis!’ yelled Mr Mason, hoping for a reply. I was terrified that it would not come, but the burly man raised a hand, indicating he was conscious at the least. I breathed a sigh of relief. But now, we were one man down, and the beast seemed no less harmful. How does it attack with its claws so? Its strength was unreasonable.
‘No more giant killing,’ said Ms Olsberg, a grave demeanour on her face. ‘Before it turns bloody, end it.’ But that was not to be. Even though we altered our approach — a smart and flexible decision — we would find ourselves in a deadlock multiple times. The only saving grace was the one injury I had managed to apply.
Our battle continued for more than ten minutes. One might think that a battle of ten minutes was short, but what do they know? They have never fought. I used to be one of those loudmouths. It is tiring, unnerving, and worrying. The sweat and fear do little to aid. The beast had come to swallow me and Ms Olsberg multiple times. Had it not been for my spears, the woman’s quick decisions, and Mr Mason, I would be dead. I had reached — so many times — the open jaw of the beast. I had seen its sharp teeth as if I was inside its mouth, and I had smelt the ghastly breath. If Ms Olsberg had not grabbed and pulled me aside, I would have been one very bony meal. And I was conflicted if I should be a delightful one or the kind that leaves one tearing in vomit.
Still, the battle continued. When fighting a giant, time slows down, I came to understand with each attempt to fell the beast. Its brilliant red eyes, glowing with a gleam, and the left shoulder that bled gave the pure white wolf a beauty of terror and majesty under the big, scarlet moon. I too watched it with admiration while my spears endeavoured to end its life. The earthen spear, lodged between its joint, allowed it less freedom while I assaulted the giant continuously. As time kept passing, my worries worsened. I had thoughts that the soil may be drying. The spears may turn brittle if they dry. I had not researched this, and now, I was regretting.
Into the night, the loud sound of revolvers — courtesy of a very close Ms Olsberg and an injured Mr Kolm who sat leaning against the trunk of a tree — rang. It made my poor ears buzz, but I ignored it along with my aching back. I bit my lips and continued the assault. This is nothing compared to the terror of that day, I told myself, hypnotising my mind. The battle continued. By now, I had become exemplary at dodging. One might even say I was the best; the one being me.
‘Accelerate,’ I whispered. Quickly, the two spears spun like a corkscrew mid-air, reaching for the wolf’s neck while Mr Mason sneaked upon it. The white beauty dodged my blows, and seeing its exhausted state, I felt it. This is my chance. I quickly, very instinctively commanded the lodged spear. Every bit of moisture was gathered in the tip that stuck out, and it exploded in a muddy splatter. The beast heeded its instincts. It should not have. It turned its head, away from harm, and that beautiful sword, drawing a magnificent curve under the red moon, connected to its forelimb. It was chopped off, cleanly.
The wolf fell, howling for the first time. I had hoped for a whimper, but its spirits weren’t broken. The man — with his sharp eyes and a sudden spurt — thrust the sword into the beast’s neck. It was an unconventional, quick manoeuvre, and the blade was not made for piercing; it did not reach past the first layer of its hide. I saw the dismay in Mr Mason’s eyes as the sword he so proudly held was thrown to the side by that clenched jaw.
Those brilliant red eyes, like the rubies of Sandun, shone seeing me. But it was too late. My green-eyed colleague, the woman who bore a bloody grin, had already fired shots with a beautiful stance — cross-legged with one arm behind. In the brilliant scarlet world, a grin and a pair of emerald eyes left me mesmerised. ‘Good hunting, Professor,’ said the woman smilingly, as two bullets passed through the beast’s temple. I heard a low screech that ended abruptly and a thud that rang.
After a battle fought over a quarter of an hour, the beast had fallen. And I believed, Marcus would have had an easier time slaying giants had he been accompanied by a respectable green-eyed lady. She must terrify even the strangest of beasts. ‘Good hunting…’ I whimpered, dispelling my magic.
***
After the battle, we took a much-needed respite. Tired bodies, harsh breaths, a frail professor, an injured colleague — we had many reasons to take one. So, I sat there, leaning against a tree, watching Mr Mason nurse Mr Kolm. ‘His ribs are broken,’ said the man, inspecting that wide chest. I wondered if it was rather provocative towards Ms Olsberg, but the woman did not seem the least bit interested. She did not gawk nor evade the scene. Unlike me, she did not seem impressed. I looked back at that figure. Just below the chest, above the stomach, I noticed a blackish-blue tint over a patch of reddened skin. Those were the signs of internal bleeding. I knew a little about this and a little about that. The human body was one of those this and that.
I sighed. ‘I— How many?’ I asked the man. I was about to say I am tired, but I felt now was not the right time to moan in misery; my injured colleague didn’t even groan. While I waited for Mr Mason’s answer, a gust blew, and I felt revived. The silent forest was unnerving me, and the sweat had left me in a childish, internal tantrum. At least, Ms Olsberg shared her bag of water with me, I thought. I had returned it quickly, afraid I may start playing with its contents. Woes of a mage, I called it.
‘Two, I believe,’ Mr Mason replied after inspecting the wound. ‘The vest helped lessen the trauma.’ His eyes pointed at the padded vest the injured man had been wearing. I looked at Mr Mason. He looked much better standing up than while inspecting another man’s chest. He walked up to me and Ms Olsberg in large strides and asked, ‘What shall we do’ — his chin pointed at the man that lay in pain — ‘with him?’ I wondered if they thought the same thing that I did, but often times I thought terrible thoughts, so I did not speak.
I looked at Ms Olsberg. She too did not seem very sure of what shall be done. Currently, we sat in a field of corpses as if roses bloomed all around. We cared neither for the blood that seeped nor the hound that sniffed the dead beasts’ behinds. We could not have seemed less unhygienic and thoughtless, yet the green-eyed woman had a frown. ‘I would like to continue…’ she murmured in her predicament. Those words were very terrifying to me. Either I was weak or the woman had lost her sanity. After all this, you wish to continue? Our colleague seemed to be in a mortal plight, and I was a professor, not a warrior. ‘It would be such a waste to return; we even have the Professor with us…’ I no more questioned her sanity. I was extremely pleased with the woman. The sanest, I deemed her. I had complete approval for her plans whatever they may be. Why not venture further? Of course, why not! You have the Professor with you!
‘Then, what about Heis?’ Mr Mason asked. There was worry in his eyes. ‘We cannot abandon him, and he can’t afford to fight or move frantically. It will get worse the further we let him be. He needs medical services.’ Ms Olsberg nodded. She seemed to be troubled, and I could understand why. She had a duty, and ending it so abruptly was a thing of much disgrace.
The woman soon gave a sigh. She was about to say something — presumably orders of retreat — when we heard movement past the bushes. Alert, we leapt to our feet. The sound of rustling bushes was mixed with the footsteps that felt heavy. And while Ms Olsberg lowered her revolver, our visitors appeared, pruning and cutting what stood in their way. I felt the wind picking up, and the light of the scarlet moon too wavered as clouds brushed past it. ‘It is allies,’ said the man in front of the group that had approached us. It was Theodore Harris, the leader of this little venture. His wide eyes were inspecting the scene we had created. He gave a quick nod as if to say, Impressive. I did spot signs of astonishment and wonder in the eyes of his six followers. Six? I wondered, looking at the black-uniformed men observing the large corpse. That was an odd number. Six is an even number, said my internal voice. Well, yes, but I meant what I meant; you know what I meant, correct? Do I?
The conversation between Ms Olsberg and Mr Harris continued while I busied myself in the noblest of ventures — bickering with a charming internal voice.
‘You were supposed to be further north, Captain,’ said the green-eyed woman. ‘Did something happen?’ The man was not much of a talker, and I assumed this conversation would not go far.
‘Urgency everywhere,’ he said, not taking his eyes off the red-eyed beast’s corpse. ‘I managed to rescue one team with the loss of a man before rushing your way. We heard continuous gunshots from this direction.’ I assumed it should. The night was mostly silent if not for the beasts attempting to steal our lives. Why did we not hear your gunshots?
‘We were ambushed,’ Ms Olsberg replied without a second thought. ‘I assume you too?’ Her green eyes shone brilliantly as she questioned her superior. But the man did not seem to mind. He was a strange but calm man.
He nodded. ‘Yes. It seems we did not need to rush.’ His eyes finally left the beast. They travelled from Ms Olsberg to me, Mr Kolm to Mr Mason. And underneath the apprehensive scarlet moon, he said, ‘Good hunting.’
