Salahkah left their home and headed back to his own, and once inside, he sat next to his son. Akahsha’s short red hair was darker in certain spots thanks to his head trauma. Salahkah gently ran his hands against his hair, and hummed a song. Gelmana was concocting an ointment to heal their son’s wound.

“He will survive, and without much damage. There will be a slight scar on his forehead, but it is the price to pay for living.” Gelmana sighed. She took the bowl full and sat next to Salahkah.

“How did it go with the troublemakers?” Gelmana softly spoke.

“I was only able to track down one of the boys, but if words travels as quickly as we think, we should be safe. No one will want to mess with the Master Hunter, the Witch, and their son.” Salahkah slowly shook his head. “I hate that this is how it must be,” he looked at his wife. “I wanted us to be safe, away from the Guild, and away from ruffians. At first it wasn’t awful, but now our son is being wounded everyday by the kids in this village. I had to cut Orgadesh’s arm off, for Woltonia’s sake. We have a home, but how much longer will we have it if these monsters of men continue to berate us?”

“Salahkah, please,” Gelmana put her hand on her husband’s hand. “We have faced every trial together thus far, and this certainly won’t be the last. The difficulty of the world seems to increase with every hurdle we make. Do not let it dissuade you, my love. We will make it through.” She turned her gaze towards their son, who lay asleep in between them. “He will be strong one day, and he will show the world no mercy.”

They sat there for a long while, letting the silence overtake them. They let their worries fade for a while as they lay by their son, who was healing quite nicely. Many hours must have passed before the outside noises stirred Salahkah. Gelmana opened her eyes and looked at her husband.

“We know you’re in there, Hunter. You’re gonna answer for what you did,” a voice called from outside. “Now step out, and no harm’ll come to ya.”

Salahkah grimaced and stood, drawing his blade from the sheath on the table. He put on a helmet and turned towards his wife. She raised her hand, and a light blue magic levitated through the air and encompassed his arms and armor with mystic runes. He could feel himself get stronger, as his anger and power increased.

Salahkah opened the door and closed it behind him. Half a dozen men stood around, two of them with torches, and all of them with blades of some sort. They were peasants, or at least held that title. They were farmers, and with such had larger builds. They weren’t all human, and Orgadesh was in the back with his arm wrapped up tightly.

“Don’t come closer,” Salahkah spoke through gritted teeth, as he walked forward into his own yard. “I’m warning you all.”

A tall human male with burly muscles and a bastard sword stepped forward. “What’re you going to do about it, Feyfucker?”

Salahkah smiled wide. “Gonna make you eat your words.” He stomped on the ground, and a mystic force arose and picked them up about fifteen feet. “Vaal ul dande shui ban tonton kolt!” He screamed the words and their power sent them flying thirty feet towards the woods. They crashed through trees and rolled down the hill.

The burly man rose from the treelines and was glowing with a yellow energy from his eyes. “Hunter, you’re goin’ hafta do better than that if you wanna get rid of me.” He charged and yellow magic surrounded his blade. He struck down and Salahkah used his blade to block it. The mixture of the magics caused the combined forces to send them both back from each other.

The ground carved underneath their boots, and they went back in for another showoff. The man charged power into his fist and delivered it into Salahkah’s stomach, and he coughed up blood. He brought his sword down, in which Salahkah blocked it with his blade. Another man charged from his right, and he took his throwing axe from his belt and underhand chucked it into his chest. The man was caught and blood spurted out onto the ground. Salahkah pushed against the man above him’s blade and called forth his power again.

This time, the blade’s runes began to glow and the man could read “immolation” off of them, and before he could back away, a blue fire started from the blade, transferred to his blade, and quickly spread among his arms and legs, until it completely took over his whole body. As he backed away, dropping his sword and frantically patting the fire away on his body, Salahkah charged and drove the sword straight through his chest. He let the body fall limp and slide off of his sword. The survivors were just pulling themselves from the woods and watched from afar.

“He’s a monster!” One of the men said. “They’re all monsters!”

The men retreated back into the woods towards town.

Salahkah went back inside his home and placed his sword back in his sheath. He looked at Gelmana with tired eyes and toppled onto the floor. She stood and ran to his side. “Salahkah!” She took off his helmet and felt his forehead; it was burning. “I need to replenish his depleted energy,” she muttered to herself. She fetched a bowl and looked for herbs in their shack. Greens hung from the ceiling, but it wasn’t what she needed. She lifted her husband and placed him on top of the sheets next to their child. She looked at both of her wounded family members.

“I must heal them both,” she swallowed her fear. “I will not fail them. Not this far.” She grabbed her staff on her way out, and placed her medicine bag over her shoulder.