Chapter 15: Stone Between Arrows
Title: Ash and Antlers: The Hunter of Galdareth
Arc II: The Emberroad Trials
Chapter 26: Stone Between Arrows
Word Count: ~1,230
Scene Setting: Morning, Lower Slopes of the Graybark Mountains
The sky remained a dull slate overhead. A cold wind whispered through the underbrush as Jumong guided Barkhide up the rocky trail. Ashwing glided silently above, eyes sharp.
Each step the Urganth took left shallow dents in the stone. Its presence alone offered Jumong a new sense of stability—he no longer felt like prey in an open world.
"Let's test your endurance today," Jumong muttered.
They weren't hunting yet. Not seriously. Today was about movement, communication, and formation.
He set down three small iron stakes in a triangle and loaded a training arrow.
"Ashwing, pattern Delta."
The winged beast gave a sharp screech and swooped in a wide arc.
"Barkhide—hold."
The Urganth did not flinch as Jumong released an arrow. It sailed just past the creature's shoulder and struck a wooden post he'd hammered in hours earlier.
Perfect spacing.
"Good."
He tried again, whistling a different command. Ashwing launched a [Solar Crest] burst—brief flash, then retreat.
Barkhide rumbled.
"Yeah, I know. She's flashy."
Scene: Midday Encounter
The quiet broke with a rustling beyond the ridge.
Ashwing landed suddenly beside Jumong.
"You smell something?"
Barkhide sniffed the air and stamped once.
Jumong nocked a real arrow. "Stay alert."
He crouched beside a stone outcrop.
Out from the brush came a lumbering beast—long necked, antlers spread wide. A Gloomhart Elk, Class D, aggressive during rutting season. Worse, it had the thickened rut-horns and foam at the mouth—likely under stress or disease.
Jumong muttered, "We don't kill unless we must."
The Elk bellowed—a warbling shriek of fury. "Raaaaaaakh-Kaaar!"
It charged.
Jumong fired a blunted arrow. It struck the creature's flank, barely slowing it.
"Barkhide—block!"
The Urganth met the charge head-on, hooves scraping stone. The two beasts clashed with a deep CRRRAACK! The elk stumbled back.
Ashwing swept behind it, blinding its left eye with a glancing strike.
Jumong moved to a better position. Fired again.
"Fall back!"
Barkhide retreated two paces, drawing the elk into a trap. Jumong loosed an arrow directly beneath its ribs.
The Gloomhart howled. "Shhhrrreeee-AAAAGH!" It staggered. Fled.
Jumong exhaled.
"You both did well."
He walked over and ran a hand down Barkhide's armored shoulder.
"That's the formation. That's how we fight."
Scene: Nightfall, Small Campfire
Later, they made camp beneath an overhang.
Ashwing dozed near the flame. Barkhide stood nearby, eyes half-shut.
Jumong ate slowly, chewing dried meat.
"We're getting better. Still slow... but we're working."
He glanced at his bow.
"Still no close-range option though. I need to fix that soon."
The silence comforted him.
He looked up at the stars.
"I've come a long way. But Class A? Not yet. Not alone."
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
End of Chapter Hook
Unseen in the trees far above, branches shifted slightly, but not from wind.
Silence returned.
---
[Morning, Lower Slopes of the Graybark Mountains]
The sky remained a dull slate overhead. A cold wind whispered through the underbrush as Jumong guided Barkhide up the rocky trail. Ashwing glided silently above, eyes sharp.
Each step the Urganth took left shallow dents in the stone. Its presence alone offered Jumong a new sense of stability—he no longer felt like prey in an open world.
"Let's test your endurance today," Jumong muttered.
They weren't hunting yet. Not seriously. Today was about movement, communication, and formation.
He set down three small iron stakes in a triangle and loaded a training arrow.
"Ashwing, pattern Delta."
The winged beast gave a sharp screech and swooped in a wide arc.
"Barkhide—hold."
The Urganth did not flinch as Jumong released an arrow. It sailed just past the creature's shoulder and struck a wooden post he'd hammered in hours earlier.
Perfect spacing.
"Good."
He tried again, whistling a different command. Ashwing launched a [Solar Crest] burst—brief flash, then retreat.
Barkhide rumbled.
"Yeah, I know. She's flashy."
The quiet broke with a rustling beyond the ridge.
Ashwing landed suddenly beside Jumong.
"You smell something?"
Barkhide sniffed the air and stamped once.
Jumong nocked a real arrow. "Stay alert."
He crouched beside a stone outcrop.
Out from the brush came a lumbering beast—long necked, antlers spread wide. A Gloomhart Elk, Class D, aggressive during rutting season. Worse, it had the thickened rut-horns and foam at the mouth—likely under stress or disease.
Jumong muttered, "We don't kill unless we must."
The Elk bellowed—a warbling shriek of fury. "Raaaaaaakh-Kaaar!"
It charged.
Jumong fired a blunted arrow. It struck the creature's flank, barely slowing it.
"Barkhide—block!"
The Urganth met the charge head-on, hooves scraping stone. The two beasts clashed with a deep CRRRAACK! The elk stumbled back.
Ashwing swept behind it, blinding its left eye with a glancing strike.
Jumong moved to a better position. Fired again.
"Fall back!"
Barkhide retreated two paces, drawing the elk into a trap. Jumong loosed an arrow directly beneath its ribs.
The Gloomhart howled. "Shhhrrreeee-AAAAGH!" It staggered. Fled.
Jumong exhaled.
"You both did well."
He walked over and ran a hand down Barkhide's armored shoulder.
"That's the formation. That's how we fight."
Later, they made camp beneath an overhang.
Ashwing dozed near the flame. Barkhide stood nearby, eyes half-shut.
Jumong ate slowly, chewing dried meat.
"We're getting better. Still slow... but we're working."
He glanced at his bow.
"Still no close-range option though. I need to fix that soon."
The silence comforted him.
He looked up at the stars.
"I've come a long way. But Class A? Not yet. Not alone."
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Unseen in the trees far above, branches shifted slightly, but not from wind.
Silence returned.