The Tower of Emnu

Aaron enjoyed being alone and had always enjoyed hunting because of that. Sitting patiently in a prepared position for hours until his prey would walk up into his line of sight to be shot had always been fun to him.

Which was why he was cursing himself now. He had only been bow hunting twice in his life before and the second time had been out of stubbornness more than enjoyment.

Because with a bow you had to get close and animals had sharp senses. First you had to make sure to be upwind of them not to alert them by your smell. Second you had to get close to your prey without them seeing you while staying with the wind in your face.

And third you had to actually hit what you were aiming at with your bow.

Aaron cursed as he looked after the small herd of deer that were cantering away from him. With a deep sigh he went out of the underbrush he had hidden in and collected the arrow he had missed with.

Shooting a bow was not simple, especially not hitting stuff with it correctly. He was tempted to just jump on them and slice them up from above, but honestly with how skittish deer were, that was a pipe dream.

In the end he chose the method his ancestors had perfected millennia ago. He followed and hunted the deer by harrying them and tiring them out. Its a simple fact that humans are made for this kind of hunting, for long extended treks that leave their prey too tired to fight back. He ran more than he jogged after them, trying to steer them away from the open valley into one of its many narrower ravines with tributaries for the river that formed the valley.

His feet hit the ground in an even pace as he just continued to disturb the herd, made them scatter and reform, looking for stragglers. But the herd kept together more or less and after half an hour of continuous running, he realized he had to change tactics unless he wanted to spend hours running these deer down.

Aaron moved around the herd once more after they reformed. He gave them a short shout that echoed in the trees, disturbing them away from him and the open valley. Carefully and always conscious of his surroundings he herded them towards a deep gulf in between some rocks that looked like it had taken the small stream flowing out of them hundreds of years to carve out.

Only a few of the herd fled through the narrow opening though, but that was fine. Aaron was only interested in one of the animals anyways and he smirked while he followed them into the narrow, tunnel like canyon.

He dreaded the shot he would have to take once he had caught up to the animals and wondered if this was truly a dead end or if the deer would simply run out on the other side of the canyon instead.

Then he had an idea, well it was more of an instinct. He activated Wind Steps, his malleable Qi within his dantian jumping to his will and coating his feet. With a deep breath Aaron jumped at the cliff wall to his right, his feet felt clad in silk once more as he stepped with one foot on the rock wall 4 meters above ground, then leapt towards the other face of the cliff and followed the animals from above.

Aaron’s face split into a grin as he danced between the rocks, almost weightless, unfettered and free. Stepping between the rocks with ease, utterly unconcerned at the moment about anything but the hunt.

The deer underneath him had stopped, huffing from the exertion and flight, but looking towards the opening in between the rocks, not above.

Aaron’s grip tightened around his bow and he knocked an arrow as he jumped downwards, falling slowly towards the two does that rested underneath him.

He clicked his tongue and both heads snapped up, confused. Aaron took aim and let his arrow loose just as the animals exposed their heart to him.

The arrow thunked home, piercing the white tuft on the left doe's chest. It shuddered, its legs releasing the jump it had stored in them as it tried to get away. It got only a few steps before it fell and stayed down. The other doe was already half way down the narrow corridor, when Aaron landed easily on his feet.

His heart was pounding, his grin broad and he pumped his fist in triumph. He felt pure elation as he stepped closer and almost fell on his face as his feet slipped away.

With a very undignified yelp he caught himself on a nearby rock and quickly deactivated Wind steps, sucking in his diminished Qi back into his dantian.

“That was awesome.” he chuckled and walked closer to the doe. Its breathing was shallow and its tuft was spluttered with dark blood. Aaron had missed the heart, but had done enough damage by hitting one or both of its lungs.

The doe’s breath was painful and Aaron drew his dagger and knelt next to the dying deer. With a quick and precise stab he ended its suffering and the deer drew its last breath.

Aaron had never had problems with killing animals, quite the opposite, usually it filled him with a bit of elation, but now it made him only feel a little bit dirty. But what else could he do? Not hunt and eat anything?

He looked back up to the rocks he had danced in between just moments before and smirked to himself. That had felt like total freedom, like liberation and that and the hunt itself had been much more satisfying than the kill in the end.

It was strange to think that less than a week ago he had woken in a small cell in death row. He had hoped the appeal of his lawyers would go through, but it had honestly been a 50/50 chance. To taste freedom again was… it was an amazing feeling.

Which was wrong. Aaron had never yearned for freedom, he had barely been bothered by being locked up. Only his impending doom had been a problem to him. But now the sheer memory of that cell made him shudder.

Something was wrong with him. Something very strange was happening to him and Aaron had no explanation for it.

First leaving that mage alive, then the nightmare and now this. It was not like him at all and that made him really uncomfortable.

With all of his force of will he pushed those thoughts aside and hoisted the cadaver on his shoulders. He had work do to. The doe was a big animal with plenty of meat on it, but to his new and improved physique it was barely a strain.

Slowly he walked back out of the ravine and made his way back to his camp. On the way he gathered any firewood he could find and stuffed it into the backpack.

Now all he had to do was let the animal bleed out and then have a feast at night.

Getting firewood was a struggle. Most of the fallen trees were too old, damp and rotten through and he wasn’t about to chop down a tree with a sword or a dagger.

He should have taken the big axe, but it had been too bulky and he had not thought he would need it. No matter, he would make do with some younger branches he broke off smaller trees, before he cut or broke them into small enough pieces to carry them in the backpack.

Aaron stopped a good way away from his camp and set up his kill to bleed out. First he skinned the deer as best he could, but it was a struggle with the knives the had. The pelt was basically ruined by his amateurish work, but that was fine, he had no plans of selling this one, but maybe he could dry and use it for the camp. Next he hung the doe up with the only rope he had found in the backpacks and made sure the cut to its throat was accurate. Then he let the blood flow into the snow and was ready to bury the bloody snow afterwards.

That done he climbed up a nearby rock and leaned against it on a small ledge within its weathered surface while he looked up to the late afternoon sun. Well, late afternoon glow coming from everywhere above him.

Once again Aaron had time to think, to come to terms with his new situation and he did not like it. Being hunted for having chosen to become a Cultivator made no sense.

If it had been a legitimate option, then why the hate? Why the hostility right from the start? In the end he was in a terrible position now. If they kept hunting him and send big enough groups he would not be able to handle he would have to constantly flee.

Which meant less time for training, less time to cultivate and thus slower progress for him, which would apparently be already slower than almost anyone in the tower.

It felt like he had made a huge mistake choosing cultivator on one hand, but on the other hand there were many benefits to it as well. The memory of total freedom of movement was in the forefront of his mind, then the magical effect of the Rejuvenating Fist Kata and how strong and healthy his body felt because of the Fiend-god art.

The option of choosing it had been rewarded to him because he had been so successful in the Hall of Illusions.

So realistically if he had not been an outlier, then everyone who had gotten through the Tests well would get the same options. People with real combat experience and the smarts and savvy to leverage the rewards given by the spirit to their advantage.

People like him, killers, soldiers, fighters. Why then the hate if the cultivators would be the best of them at fighting?

Or maybe it was the opposite, only those who were sufficiently brutal and ruthless got even the option to chose becoming a cultivator.

Maybe the whole hatred was by design, to test and forge any cultivator under the worst circumstances, to teach them how to adapt and to evade capture.

It seemed like a possibility, but in the end he wasn’t sure. Not all of the Guards had reacted so negatively to him ousting himself as a cultivator.

Aaron could not see through the social nuances in this new world at all. His first taste of vessels and their skills would have cost his life without the Fiend-god art and the mage had unleashed so much devastation in such a short time, Aaron wasn’t sure if he would have survived at all if he had not taken her out early out of the fight.

Movement in the corner of his eyes made him look up from his ruminations. He frowned and studied the empty landscape before him.

The river flowed past him to his left and he had the wall and the more hilly terrain in his back. To his right was the edge of the forest that had enveloped a smooth less rocky elevation with trees and underbrush. The tree where the deer hung was the one closest to the rock he sat on and a good 20 feet away from the actual treeline.

There, in the treeline, he could spot shapes in the twilight that had fallen over the land. At first he thought he was seeing dogs, but then he realized what they must be. Wolves.

It had been a good decision to wait here and guard his kill. He would have been inconsolable if he had lost his dinner because he had not factored in predators coming because of the smell of blood. Aaron was already ravenous and he did not want to eat any more of the dried rations if he did not have to.

Silently he readied his bow and drew an arrow as the first shapes drew closer. There were 4 or 5 of them, but it was difficult to guess their numbers as they walked through the trees, vanishing behind and appearing from behind various obstacles.

They circled the carcass carefully, sniffing, growling and yet they did not come closer immediately. But eventually one of the beasts trotted closer and Aaron drew back the bow carefully. It was quite a long shot from his position with a bow and he had zero confidence in his bow skills.

But in the end he figured it must be just like with guns, hold your breath, keep your aim steady and let loose at the right moment.

Aaron released the arrow just as the wolf had reached the bloody snow where the deer was bleeding out and was sniffing it curiously. He missed spectacularly, the arrow narrowly passing above the wolfs head as he ducked down to sniff. Quickly he drew another arrow and released a second projectile to the startled wolf who had jumped backwards. This time he had more luck and he hit the beast in the hind flank, piercing the dark gray fur.

The wolf yelped loudly and moved away, limping slightly. The rest of the pack moved forward, scenting the air, one of them howling a long haunting cry into the falling night.

But Aaron was as safe as he could be, perched up on the rock and even though he was sure the wolves sensed him, they could do nothing. He released another two arrows at any beast that came close to his dinner. But missed both of the moving targets.

“God damn it.” he cursed to himself as some of the wolves left the carcass behind and tried to get up to him on the boulder. He was wasting precious arrows right here and he had no good way of replenishing them.

Still there was barely any threat to him and in the end only one of the beasts jumped and tried to climb up the boulder to Aaron’s right. He shot the beast and in such close proximity he did not miss.

With a yelp the wolf tumbled back down, leaving behind bloody smears. That was enough for the rest of the pack and they scampered off and Aaron did not give chase, even though they were leaving with two of his arrows.

With a sigh and the light dipping ever closer to total night, Aaron left his perch and gathered his missed shots. He had no fear that the pack would come back, they would have no chance against him. But really, he did not want to risk any damage to his clothes nor was he especially keen of eating wolf. Because predators were supposed to taste terrible, full of parasites and the like.

He found his missed shots relatively quickly and then started to cut himself some dinner from the deer’s carcass.

With a hunk of slightly bloody leg on his shoulders he returned to his camp, set out the skin of the deer to dry, ignoring the holes and scrapes he had made in it by mistake and set up a camp fire.

He was really glad he had the fire-starter-set and could scrape the metal over flint to create sparks. The halfway dried leaves he had gathered caught fire and quickly he had a nice little fire going in the cover of a ledge above him.

The crack in the wall, running through the entire place let out the smoke and yet gave enough cover against snow or rain.

For the first time today he actually felt warm and Aaron was surprised at how good that felt. He had not minded the cold, but it was still a relief that it was finally gone. He roasted the hunk of meat slowly over the fire, letting it cook while he stretched and made sure everything was set up for the night.

The smell of the roasting meat was almost too much for Aaron, who was starving, who could feel the hole in his stomach burn. Finally after agonizing wait and his best self discipline he tore into a chunk of sizzling fatty meat.

It was glorious, even though it had a lot of gaminess, he had no salt or other spices and he longed for some bread or a pan-sauce anything really. It was still delicious.

Piece after piece he devoured, carving it off the bone.

In the end he ate the entire huge chunk, gnawing at the bones, splitting them and going after the marrow. And yet the hunger would not subside, would only ever be dampened. Aaron was not sure how long the days were here, if they were uniform or it got dark earlier in the winter, but it was dark out already.

He hesitated and went for seconds in the end. While the next chunk of the deer was cooking he started training, going through the Rejuvenating Fist Kata over and over until it was time to eat again.

He had learned from his earlier mistakes while cooking and had sliced off chunks to sear on flat rocks, instead of on the bone. The meat ended up much less overdone or under cooked this way, unlike the previous attempt where depending on where on the bone the meat had sat it had cooked unevenly. In the end an oven or even a proper pan would have made this a whole lot easier, but he had neither.

After he devoured the rest of the meat he had brought he finally felt more or less satiated. He could still eat more, but the hunger pangs had vanished and his belly was swollen with food.

Aaron sighed contentedly and sat down to start his meditation. It was a struggle to focus on his task with a full belly, but eventually he got there. Slowly he started to draw out the Qi from his blood and into his dantian. One rotation of the Fiend-god art followed the next and although the task should have been monotonous it wasn’t. Every rotation was another challenge, another puzzle to solve and the only tools he had were his willpower and the mystical knowledge of how to make this power his own.

Hours later he woke to only glowing coals and crawled into the tent, his sheathed dagger clutched in his hands. Just in case. He yawned and stared out over the coals into the dark sky, where stars glittered. They were not real stars, he knew that but they were still beautiful. Slowly he closed his eyes, listening for any noise in the still winter night. He sighed when silence reigned and he could hear nothing but falling snow. All in all it had been a productive day.