"You must avoid them at all costs. Despite your strength, they will prove too much for you."
-Heard by master Shi before number 1,616.
Green studied his pulx pistol, it had only eight full shots left. He could have had Mark fill it, but didn't know if that would affect the umbra pulx.
"Break in when I get on that roof," Green said, pointing to a flat rooftop a few buildings from the one they stood on now.
Mark nodded, moving to get in position. It was only him and Mark tonight, they had decided to get the bounty now, rather than waiting until morning. Also with Grace still recovering from her mana depletion, and needing someone to watch Carrie, it just made sense.
Their target tonight was currently in a casino. Green could see her through a window with his elven eye. The rooftop they were on was slanted, bad for making shots. Which was the reason he had Mark wait for him to get to the other roof.
I should get going, Green thought, stepping back. One leap carried him to the next roof, then another. He moved without thinking, only stopping when he knew he was clear. He spotted Mark in the crowd below and gave a quick signal before disappearing into the alleys beyond.
They wouldn't use the tactics they had on Bush for her sake—Marge wasn't dangerous. Just connected. The Conexe protected her because she made them rich. Guns, food, forged tags—she kept the underground alive and the hunters loyal.
None of that mattered to Green. With a bounty like his on the Conexe's ledger, he expected to be hunted no matter who he crossed.
Green lay flat, glasses off, eyes scanning the casino roofline. There—a spotter stretched behind a rifle. A second. A third. Marge didn't trust the law; she trusted hunters.
That meant a set of unspoken rules: If a hunter guarded a bounty, the bounty was considered theirs—off limits, unless you wanted every hunter in the city coming for your head.
Green already had that problem.
He exhaled, let the world narrow to crosshairs, and squeezed the trigger. The guard jerked back clutching his arm—a non-lethal blow but one clearly deliberate.
The other hunters turned toward him in the same heartbeat.
Green's lips twitched up. He stood, making sure he was visible on the rooftop. A gunshot cracked—stone burst near his boot.
There it is.
He slung his rifle behind him and leapt. His foot struck the next building's wall; he kicked off and dropped onto the street below, landing light. Another shot screamed by, forcing him toward the street.
Hunters spotted him instantly. A few bolted after him. Good. Keep up.
He cut into an alley, the sound of boots and gunfire ricocheting behind him. A corner, then another—until brick blocked his way.
Dead end.
Green didn't hesitate. He drew his pulx pistol, pressed it to the side of his neck, and fired.
His body melted into shadow—cold, weightless. The world thickened around him like deep water without the wet. He could sense the street above but not touch it, suspended between existence and stone.
War Shadow pulx, according to Mark, was different from regular. More pure.
He waited, walking, or rather willing himself to move to where he would be behind the hunters. He couldn't see them, but their presence was as palpable to him as if they were standing in front of him.
"Where'd he go?"
"I don't know, why are you asking me?"
"He came this way."
"Then where is he, genius?"
Green lifted himself out of the shadows then back handed the first man in the face. The other two immediately drew their handguns, but Green was already on them.
The third man swung the butt of his gun handle, Green palmed his wrist in true Kaisher fashion, knocking it away.
In the same moment, Green took a step to the third man's side, squeezing between him and the wall and spinning. He ended with a palm to the man's ribs and felt a distinct crack then struck the man's chin upward, knocking him unconscious. Footsteps sounded a second later, the second man was running.
Green bolted after him. His quarry was surprisingly fast, though Green had forty-four pounds strapped to him. It was quite impressive that he managed to stay ahead.
Humans however, didn't have the stamina or dexterity Elves were gifted with. The man started slowing down, unable to sprint at full speed for too long. He came to a stop and turned to aim his pistol at Green, but Green wasn't there.
Green grew from the shadows behind the unsuspecting bounty hunter, and knocked him unconscious with a strike to the back of his head. Green smiled, he needed to get back, take care of the rest of the hunters. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction from his success.
He could use another type of pulx, and a powerful one. He just needed to figure out a way to make the pulx that allowed him to use the shadows. Maybe I could have Grace construct a new pistol, Green thought, one that can switch between a simple separation pulx, and this one.
Green heard their screams, the moment of their deaths played in his mind again and again.
"You should have killed me!" Green shouted back, enraged at the dead.
He was in a dark place, black mist shifted about him. The screams came from there. A figure ran out of the mist, lunging himself at Green. He didn't do so you harm him however, the man let his legs go limp. The only thing that kept him up was Green's clothing, which he clung to.
"My family!?" The man pleaded, "what of my family!?"
The man was crying, Green looked at him, sympathy flashing within him. It was gone an instant later however, replaced with a numbness inside. Green grabbed the man's hands and shoved him off him.
He backed away, banishing the memories. They kept coming however, and his heart began to race. He put a hand to his head, stumbling back further until he tripped. He was caught by something, he turned around to find a pile of bodies lying dead. These began to moan and scream in his head.
Green put his hands to his ears. Quiet, Green thought, quiet yourselves. No more, please no more. Green's heart was pounding now, growing faster, and his breathing started matching its pace.
Hands began grabbing him, desperately clinging to him. Green closed his eyes.
"Enough!" Green shouted, springing up from his bed at the inn.
Green looked around himself then wiped his brow, coming back with sweat. His breathing and his heart rate started slowing as his mind caught up. Breath, Green thought, it was just a nightmare.
Green stood from his bed, then moved to dress himself in his room at the inn. He had gotten a single room, and was glad for it. His nightly terrors put most in an awkward position to say the least.
Though sometimes he was aware he was dreaming and could control his outbursts. Last night, like so many others, he'd been unaware of his position.
He put last night's events behind him however, trying not to think of what the dream meant. He'd had enough to know thinking about it was useless.
He put his glasses on, leaving his rifle and one handed shotgun. He had no intention to fight today, last night's bounty had left him with enough for today's events.
Green walked out of the inn, intending to wait for the others to get up and ready. In the corner of his eye however, he spotted someone looking at him. His hand immediately went for his pistol.
The onlooker however, turned away and began walking in the other direction.
"What are you looking at?" Green jumped, spinning to find Mark arm in arm with Grace, and Carrie right behind them.
Mark was enormous as usual, standing at a staggering six foot eight. The height was complemented by his bulky frame. His arms were thicker than Green's thighs, and his chest seemed to bulge with an irregular sense of power. Green was by no means scrawny, but he felt like a twig next to him.
"The Conexe will be aware of us after last night," Green replied, "stay extra alert today. We'll want to leave town as soon as possible."
Mark nodded, then gestured for them to be on their way. Grace wanted to take Carrie shopping today, claiming that a girl needed more than just two sets of clothing.
Green didn't understand why, clothing wasn't easy to carry. And having three pairs was already a stretch. Especially when you never stayed in one place. For Green, it was easy enough to just clean one pair at the end of the day, then wear it the next.
Girls, Green thought, it's as if they try to be impractical. As if to reinforce this, several women walking the streets had on high heels, and fur scarfs. Most of those walked with an attitude that was a striking contrast to the women in Nurks.
While keeping an eye on darker street spots, he suddenly felt someone grab his arm. He flinched, then looked down to see Carrie's arm wrapped around his in the same fashion as Mark and Grace.
She wasn't talking and silently flirting like Mark and Grace however. She was looking around like Green had, only looking at the brighter spots. She was eyeing every shop and building they passed with a curiosity only children could manage.
Green shook his head. He wasn't disappointed—he expected as much from one as young as her. But the way she saw wonder in everything made him feel a sort of solemnness for when she saw the truth.
Perhaps showing her the world would be a mistake, it had been so far. Then again—he had made a promise to her that he would. So he said nothing as she gasped, awed, and wondered about everything that shined.
"You really aren't very sensitive to eyes?" Green paused, then looked to Carrie, who was looking at him directly in the eye.
After a moment, Green realized he hadn't replied. "No," Green said, breaking eye contact.
"It seems like a bounty hunter would always be on the lookout for danger." Carrie commented, "you must have always had people you trusted around."
Green shrugged, moving his arm out of Carrie's, causing her to frown. He found what he wanted a few minutes later, and moved to get Mark's attention. Mark glanced at Green, who thumbed to his side. Mark nodded.
Green walked into a brick shop, which stuck out from the wooden ones surrounding it.
"Hold on, I'll be right there." A voice said. A wizened old man walked outside the back, then paused when he saw Green.
Apparently sizing him up, Green stood without moving, letting the old man finish his evaluation.
"I need five shells for a twelve gauge, one handed shotgun, used for bounty hunting." Green said bluntly, the old man nodded. "Can I also get a nine millimeter handgun with twenty-four rounds?" Green paused, "and a gun belt."
The old man reached underneath the counter and came out with two magazines for a nine millimeter.
"I don't have twenty-five bullets in a pack, so I'll just give you this." The man put a single bullet on the countertop and turned to grab the pistols on a shelf behind him, setting them on the counter. "I got the shells in the back,"
He stepped out and was replaced by a younger man in his late twenties, who, Green noticed, had a hand on a pistol. Keeping an eye on me huh? Green thought. Green had no intention of stealing, but the precaution was nonetheless wise.
It didn't take long for the old man to come out with a larger box of shotgun shells and a gun belt. He then put it and the other items in a wooden crate.
"That's a half and three sixteenth-raches." The old man said, listing the price.
Green winced inside, pulling out two quarters and three sixteenths. He grabbed his crate and started to leave but stopped when the old man spoke.
"You don't look like you're around here, a traveling bounty hunter I'd guess." The geezer said, Green nodded. "Well, you look like you got sharp eyes in that skull of yours." The old man gestured to the man in his late twenties. "My grandson here is going to the target fest. There's going to be quite the prize for the winner. Five full-raches, here," the old man presented him with a metal card. "Tell ya what, I'll give you a magazine of those nine millimeter rounds if you win, so long as you use that to enter."
Green raised an eyebrow, then turned the card around. There was a name as well as an insignia on the back, likely the old man's. So if I win with thisthe old man here will likely get a reward for recommending me.
Green looked back up to the old man, "I'll think about it," Green said, folding the flyer and sticking it in his pocket.
He left the shop and wandered around for a bit before spotting a figure through a window wall that led into a shop. Green froze in the street, inside was Carrie wearing a light red frilly dress.
It was poofy from the waist down, but was tight on the top. She had on a pair of white gloves that extended a few inches past her elbows. The dress didn't have sleeves, but had two thin straps that kept the top up.
She was short and didn't have anything in the way of curves, and her eyes were larger than most. Rather than make it odd however, her childish features seemed to enhance the dress. Like a noble born child going to her first dance to show off.
She wore makeup as well, Green noticed, a slight blush to the cheeks and some lipstick that added a maroon shade to it. The color wasn't thick, but it was noticeable and worked rather well with the dress.
She also had a humble shade of sapphire eyeliner that seemed to enhance the bright emerald green of her eyes.
A faint gag caught his throat.
He glanced around in realization a moment later to find others staring as well. So before anyone else had a chance to, he quickly moved into the shop to find Mark and Grace complimenting Carrie on her looks.
When he entered, a doorbell rang. The shop owner however, wasn't looking at Green, nor did she even pay attention to the bell. She, a middle aged woman, was looking at Carrie with a mix of pride and disbelief.
Mark turned, "oh, Green, you found us." Mark said, causing both Grace and Carrie to glance at him.
Carrie smiled, then started walking in Green's direction. Walk was a generous term however. She wore a pair of high heels and stumbled a few times, requiring Grace to help keep her upright. She reached Green, and her smile widened.
"What um," Carrie said, seeming to look for the right words. "What do you think?" She raised her arms when she asked the question, as if she was trying to accentuate every bit of the outfit.
"It looks, um, good," Green replied, keeping his face neutral.
Carrie's smile widened further, that was probably the most she'd get from Green. He's so stiff most of the time, Carrie thought, it's like he's trying to push away his emotions. That didn't matter to Carrie however, she could see his aura. The way his shook like a disturbed flame—like he was uncomfortable—told her all she needed to know.
Green reached in his back pocket and pulled a metal card, and handed it to Mark. Mark accepted it, looking it over, then looked back up to Green.
"What's this?" Mark asked.
"A competition," Green replied, his aura going back to its usual stable self. "There's a five full rache reward for the winner."
Grace took the card and looked it over, "target fest," she said, reading it. ""The sharpest eye wins the prize." Green, you should enter, if this is a shooting competition there's no way for you to lose."
When Grace spoke her aura spun slightly, Carrie could see little streams of excitement spinning around her. It had taken Carrie some time to learn what those meant. A person's aura would depict little things like that, and were far more truthful than people themselves.
Carrie could see aura's moving erratically, shifting, spinning, growing larger or smaller. They were quite similar to a flame actually, or that's what Carrie found to be the best description. And like a flame, they moved unpredictably.
Though it was impossible for an aura to change in any dramatic way. It should be at least, Carrie thought, glancing at Green. She hadn't forgotten the change his aura had gone through when they were in the forest. Changing colors should be impossible.
Technically, an aura's color could change, but they would only change to a different shade of the original. And that was only after several years of slowly shifting from one to the other. Greens though, Carrie thought suppressing a shiver. She'd never seen it before and didn't know what it meant, that above all scared her.
"Look at the back," Green said, replying to Grace.
Grace flipped it over, "there's just a name and insignia."
"The geezer who gave it to me said that if I win he'll give me a box of nine millimeter rounds, so long as I enter with that." Green replied. "I think there's a reward if I win with his referral."
"You're forgetting that you don't have a nine," Mark added.
Carrie looked between Mark and Green, she didn't know what a nine was and intended to ask. But something caught her eye, Mark's and Green's aura fluctuated every time they looked at one another.
"I don't," Green replied to Mark's statement.
He reached into the crate he carried with one arm, the other supporting its weight. He pulled out a nine millimeter gun and held it up for Carrie.
Carrie took it hesitantly. "What's this?" She asked.
"A gun," Green replied, "a nine millimeter handgun, it's the perfect beginner pistol." Carrie hesitated again, so Green spoke further. "It's for self defense, I don't intend for you to ever use it. But it would make me feel better if you kept it."
Carrie nodded, relaxing. "Um, do you mind hanging onto it for now?" Carrie asked, "I don't think I can hold it while I'm wearing this."
Carrie gestured to her dress, and Green shrugged, taking the gun back. He didn't miss how she relaxed when she handed it over however. Right, Green thought.
It would help if she kept it. Even though they had one of them with her at all times, it would be better if she could at least fight back.
A nine millimeter was the best choice, it didn't have as strong of a kick and it had twelve rounds in each magazine. Even if she misses, she could keep shooting until her opponent either gets scared away, or gets hit.
I should probably train her though, Green thought.
If he was going to show her the world, he wasn't going to take chances. Speaking of chances,
Green turned back to Mark and Grace, "I want to leave as soon as possible. Tomorrow at the latest, but I think you should have a say," he said, gesturing to the card.
"I think you should do it," Grace said with enthusiasm. "You could win easily."
"I agree with Grace," Mark added, "you've got the best shot I've ever seen. And that's saying something."
"I'm aware of the possibility of victory," Green replied, "but I'm not asking about that. Last night we turned in one of the biggest suppliers for almost every bounty hunter in the city. Conexe members themselves might not be as immediate a threat, but the bounty hunters now have two reasons to see us dead. Or at least tied up in a slavers cart."
Grace hesitated.
"How long will the competition take?" Mark asked.
"Not sure, I haven't checked."
"Lets do that today then. If we can leave two days from now, you'll enter. Five full raches will let us pass two cities without need for a stop."
"It is tempting," Green admitted. "But exposing ourselves even more isn't something I care for. Carrie alone likely grabbed too much attention earlier. Considering that, it's not all that wise to be at the center of a city wide festival."
"Then, we shouldn't go?" Grace asked.
"I'm not entirely sure. If the reward matches the risk then I'd have no doubt." Green replied. "I want your opinions, if it were just us I'd take it. But with Carrie here…"
"Sorry," Carrie said.
"It's not your fault dear," Grace replied, "we took the bounty to bring you home."
"Let's just see how long this competition will take," Mark added. "We'll make a decision from there."
They nodded, Green leaving the store while the others bought the dress.