Cyrene’s eyes peer over to the wound on her brother’s left arm. Several drops of a peculiar green liquid were sliding down his shoulder. 

“Hey…?” 

Cyrus turns his head to his injured shoulder.  

“This? It's nothing. The Reaper injected me with poison." 

A concerned expression befell Cyrus's sister. She stands erect and approaches him. She inspects his wound closely.  

“How can you talk so casually about being poisoned?" She frowns.

“Probably because it wouldn't be the first time. The first few times I was poisoned when I was younger, I grew ill, but now I only feel a numb sensation in my arm. Once we get home,e I'll clean it and apply some remedy. Then I’ll be fine.”

Cyrene beams Cyrus with a meaner scowl. Cyrus dismisses her glare with a smile.

“It's nothing to worry about. More pressing matters involve your performance today.” 

The huntress crosses her arms as her brother approaches her. 

"What of it?"   

“If I could summarize your performance in just a single word, I would say…”

Cyrus keeps eye contact with his sister while Cyrene's eyes follow the sight of his hand grasping his sword's handle. She jolts slightly at the sudden withdrawal of the blade from beneath the earth.   

“Sloppy.” 

“Ugh,” she groans and rolls her eyes. “Cut me a break..."  

“You even managed to break your sword in the process.”

She reaches for her sword and raises it closer to her chest. She stares at its broken edge, surrounded by dirt, blood, chipped parts, and saliva.

“It was bound to break sometime. It might be time for a new one." 

Cyrus eyes her blade inquisitively. 

“Is this not your seventh or eighth blade after seven or eight hunts...? 

Cyrene shrugs. 

“I... might have lost count.” 

Cyrus shakes his head.

“Unbelievable," he sighs. "Do you realize you could have used this weapon far longer if you had taken proper care of it?"

Cyrene pouts. 

“I know..."

She turns her sight away from him and lowers her armament. Cyrus breathes in, then out. He moves closer to his sister. 

“More importantly..."

Her eyes shift to meet him.

“Hm?” 

Cyrus gently places his thumb and index finger on her chin and starts to move her head from left to right. Cyrene was initially startled but promptly grew more annoyed.

"What’re you doing?" She grumbles.

“You asked me if I was all right, but I never checked your condition.” 

He moves her head to check for injuries on her face. He moves her short, messy hair around to check for any wounds underneath. Cyrene attempts to wriggle away from him, but Cyrus strengthens his grasp slightly and continues to inspect her. He pushes her cheeks up with his hand.

"Can you please let go already?" She asked, still frowning. 

“Be patient. This will only take a moment. I don't need my sister’s injuries weighing on my conscience. The scar on your cheek eats away at my heart as it is.” 

Cyrene struggles slightly in his grasp. 

“I’m fine…!” 

He releases his grasp and pulls away from her. 

“Thank goodness there’s nothing to worry about.” He sighs.

The two start to traverse the land of corpses to head back into town.

“I already told you that! And aren't you still poisoned? While you're busy taking care of that, I have to go into town and look for a new sword."   

“Why, that's been your finest idea in ages." Cyrus grins, remarking sarcastically.

Cyrene frowns.  

"Quiet.” 

Cyrus reaches into his pocket and pulls out some money, various women minted onto shimmering silver coins.

“Here," he calls to her, and she turns around. "This should be enough Queens for a new weapon.” 

Cyrene takes the money from his hand. 

“Thanks.”  

“Be sure to purchase something suitable for yourself and head home right after you’ve finished.” 

“Okay.” 

“Our work is done for today, and fairly early at that. We’d best be on our way.” 

Cyrene nods.

“Right behind you.”

The late afternoon sky steadily eased overhead, covering the world with a warm orange hue that danced with the lingering blue sky. Both brother and sister travel out of the forest. Yet lurking within the shadows of the Silent Grott, stood a masked, cloaked figure. The individual eyed down the two hunters as they unintentionally led the enigma in the direction of the Stalwart Valley. Overhead, there were steady, looming dark clouds closing in.   

Some time passed, and both siblings broke off to their separate tasks. Entering his home, Cyrus sets his weapon beside the shut door and removes his coat, tossing it atop the kitchen counter. He moves to the kitchen sink, the blood on his bicep slipping down to his forearm. Turning on the faucet, he cleans his arm. He washes the wound over with cold water and then applies some antiseptic. Cyrus winces a bit at the stinging sensation. Once he was finished cleaning, he found some bandages nearby and wrapped them around his wound. Finished with his quick fix, he throws back on his coat and passes through a door that leads to the back of the house. Engulfed by the cool breeze and silence of the outdoors, he takes a deep breath and observes all of nature's offerings. His eyes wander to a nearby tree, its wood enveloped with a cavalcade of slashes. His mind is sent to a memory of many years ago when Cyrus was training his adolescent sister.    

Cyrene was blowing slash after slash at the timber with her wooden sword. She swerves to the side, cuts, lunges forward, and stabs, putting her whole body into strong swings. Cyrus calmly watches, his back leaning against the surface of his home. He noticed her footwork was getting quicker, but her swordplay was messy. Through her cavalcade of slices, Cyrus approaches her. 

“Stop,” he utters calmly. 

Cyrene takes several steps back from the timber. She holds her sword to the side and puts her hand on her hip. 

“What?”  

“You’re emulating some of my movements, but you can’t utilize them correctly. Our strengths, speeds, and skills vary. Trying to use my technique like that will only make your attacks clumsy and less effective.”

She groans and tilts her head to the sky. 

“Ugh! Then what do you want me to do? I thought you said this was good practice!” 

“I want you to take your time and find what’s most beneficial for you. The beasts in the thicket can be unrelenting, and my top priority is to train you to defend yourself in dire situations.”

“Learning to defend myself is fine and all, but you know I wanna hunt with you!” 

Cyrus raises his voice. 

“Hunting can wait for another time! You’re still not ready! Right now, you will do as I say!” 

Cyrene pauses, unable to reply as Cyrus’s shout rang through her heart. Cyrus takes a step back, then a deep breath. 

“Apologies for raising my voice, I just,” Cyrus takes a deep breath and exhales. “It loathes me to even have to train you. I don't want you getting hurt. Your safety is my utmost priority," he winces. "I needn’t lose the last member of my family...”

Her heart jumps at hearing Cyrus’s distraught voice. She falters, her gaze averted from his own. 

“I don’t remember anything about mum and dad… but you do, right? What kind of people were they?"

“Oh… they were like any other citizen here. Hardworking, kind, thoughtful, and caring."

"Must've hurt to lose them, hm..."

Cyrus shakes his head.

"It was terrible. Their deaths still puzzle me to this day. Along with a few other villagers, they ventured toward the outskirts to help rid of some monsters in the forest, but they were killed in a massive, gray, misty explosion. It appeared out of nowhere. The outburst felt… peculiar.”

“What do you mean?” 

“It felt unusual yet… familiar…” He answers, unsure of himself. “I remember being outside when the explosion happened, staring at that vortex. Of course, you were still a baby when it occurred, and I was only thirteen. The feeling of dread that washed over me was unprecedented, losing our parents in a freak tragedy. But holding you in my arms that day reminded me that I still have a responsibility. I still have a reason to live.” 

Cyrene’s heart fluttered a bit.

“You must’ve had your hands full taking care of me…” She says, sullenly. 

“Indeed. I offered my services to the other villagers in exchange for food and a place for us two to stay. Since then, I’d hunt, go home, and take care of you. That... has been my life.” 

“I’m sorry…” She frowns. 

“Don’t be. It’s been hard, but, honestly, to see you here, all grown up," he smiles, "I'd say the struggles were worth it."  

Cyrene tries to hide her smile by parting her hair with her hand. Cyrus continues.       

“I promise you, you will be hunting alongside me. For now, I must teach you the forms and techniques that come with being a hunter.” 

Cyrene looks up at her brother, and the resolve on his face returns. 

“I understand," she says, embracing him. "Thank you. For everything.”     

The strong breeze rattles the branches of the stricken tree, pulling Cyrus out of his daydream. He leans back against the surface of his home and tilts his head to the sky. He shuts his eyes, basking in his momentary peace.

"No problem, sister."