His heart felt like a small scared bird trying to escape his chest.
He breathed in and out trying to will the panic and excitement out as the man in front of him gestured to the two tables on either side of the room. One had carefully laid weapons of various sizes and shapes placed where the space was available. The other had tiny round spheres that rested on tiny holders that kept them from rolling about.
Wylin felt the hard stare of his instructor meet his own wandering gaze and he went rigid as the man seemed to scan Wylin for any sign of slacking attention or a wandering mind. Wylin pushed back a big grin, he could not be any more aware of the room, of his current location, than at this very moment.
The hall was basic in nature, efficient in its space. Brick and cement, no windows for the curious bypasser to peer into. The room was lit with basic light fixtures on the ceiling and the almost silent hum buzzed, making Wylin’s skin prick with goosebumps as he became aware of it then blocked it out, only for his mind to find it again.
All around him there was another 29 students. His class, his companions. Together they had outpaced at least another 40 students. They were the ones not willing to give up, endure the long nights working on the tasks that had crippled others, learn to respect, if not understand one or another and Wylin could admit he felt each and every one of his classmates deserved a chance to be here.
Not that Wylin liked or could even stand all of them... but no one in the class would tear another’s chances down to progress.
There simply wasn’t enough time for people to have that level of arrogance.
His uniform creased and despite the feeling of wearing a very old hand-me-down. Wylin was proud of the earth brown jacket and trousers. He had to be, for otherwise, he would have to admit that they looked too big on him.
“Your final test is a simple one. You will perform the basic duty of a hunter, the very basic job in which I, and your fellow instructors, have been readying you all for the last 3 years. You will take one of these weapons,” Instructor Morz gestured to the table with the metal and wood weapons and then he gestured to the other table.
“Then you will match them with a core. Once properly outfitted, you will be taken to the immediate area outside city barrier. Denni Planes in which you will hunt, kill, and return with some proof of a kill. Is that clear?” Instructor Mortz said into the silent room. The man towered over the teens but he was not rude in his tone.
Instructor Mortz was fair to a painful end. Wylin had owed a lot of small success and failures to the man before him.
Wylin joined in with the sharp but quick “Yes, sir!”
“If you pass, and I do have faith in you all, you will no longer be my students but my fellow colleagues in the profession of hunting. I dearly look forward to meeting you all as equals. Now, when I call your name, step forward and claim a weapon and a core. All cores are from Denni plains monsters and there are plenty to go around. Do not be concerned about seeking the best. Everyone will be given equal opportunity,” the instructor smiled softly and Wylin eyed the glowing spheres.
A monster core. Wylin had only really gotten to hold, to use, one a few times in his career. The community training hall for Hunters could only gather so many cores like this for an end of class graduation test. Wylin had heard they had people working all of last month just to make sure they had enough.
“Allow your teacher one last lesson, a remedial,” Morz picked up a soft green core, holding it in his palm and the man’s fingers could easily cover it when he held it.
“A core is only as valuable as the hunter who wields it. Through days of hunting, you may not see a single core. Not even these Grade-1 types, thso-calleded common tier. It honestly is down to luck. You all know that a monster grows such a core in its body, many monsters do not. We still have no idea what triggers the growth nor how to tell the difference between a core monster and a coreless one. Some even speculate it only forms at the moment of the monsters death,” Mortz said, almost too quiet to hear.
Wylin listened, almost falling out of rank to catch those last few words. He felt a pair of fingers yank him back by his jacket and he shot the girl next to him a look.
She looked like she had not moved a single muscle. Silune Craft looked like the perfect example of a hunter. Neutral expression, eyes peering ahead, a posture that was the picture of discipline. Wylin knew that she was also mentally drooling over every weapon on the table.
To be fair, Wylin was drooling over the cores so that made the two quite a pair. Silune was a good friend if only in the fellow community hall student kind of way. They had a good easy going mood between them. The days they had done nothing but talk about their future and the weapons they would wield.
Now that day had come at last.
“What we do know that is each core has significant value. To us hunters, for tools of our survival, to the people, as energy, to the researchers, as progress. Each time you gain a core, how you handle that core will determine what kind of hunters you truly are. Not the weapons you wield nor the cores you empower them with,” Mortz inhaled and then eyed the group of students.
“I cannot let you hunt until you show me that you understand the basics of the hunter, no... the simple understanding of how we humans can defend ourselves. Show me that you can take the two items on either table and put them together to form a hunter’s weapon,” Mortz instructed, he pulled out a scroll and began to read.
“Freinado Stilks,” he called and a lanky boy moved forward. Wylin felt his nerves begin to make his head feel lightheaded.
Stilks picked up a sword, looking around and not seeing a shield. Wylin remembered the young man’s shield bash during training once. It had hurt.
“You need only infuse one item right now. We will get you fully outfitted before the hunt,” Mortz promised, Stilks nodded and walked over to the core table.
Wylin held his breath as the other boy took his time carefully reading the small names next to the cores and moving his hand over the selection. Finally, he picked one up and turned the sword over.
At the hilt where the blade met the guard, a round circular engraving was displayed, showing it was a core weapon. Able to fit a Grade-1 core into itself.
“You have chosen the sword and the core ‘Forest Stinger’, explain your reasoning,” Mortz asked and Stilks nodded, looking pale and sweaty.
“I am... I trained most with a sword and shield so I took the weapon I am best with. The core I chose because I know the Forest Stinger jabs and pierces its foes and my style is also similar. I use a thinner blade in practice so I’m hoping I will get a similar result.” To Stilks’ credit, he didn’t stutter or stumble when he spoke. Wylin had to respect him for that since he was the first one up, the first one to pass or fail.
Mortz nodded and then gestured for Stilks to continue.
“Begin the infusion,” he said, voice thick with command and everyone went very still. Despite being in-training for 3 years, the class had barely seen a Core weapon unsheathed, let alone created outside of very special training days.
Cores were just too valuable to spend every day for the local hunter hall. Wylin knew if he was lucky or rich, he could apprentice under a Bronze or Silver ranked Hunter, be personally trained and given cores to work with...
Wylin dismissed this as those thoughts all lead back home.
He needed to pay attention to the scene happening before his very eyes.
Stilks nodded and slowly inserted the core into the sword. He gave it a firm push to make sure it was slotted into place and then using his thumb, pushed hard a certain glowing spot on the core. The core cracked and energy began to leak out. A sudden blast of expelled air blew jackets and long hair back but no one looked away.
Wylin’s smile was hard to contain as the soul inside the core began to physically reshape the container, the very sword, that it was in.
The simple sword had been a long edged blade with a cross guard. The soul streaked like veins through the metal and handle, curving the guard into a wicked round guard, the blade began to twist the sword blade into a spiral of metal that the very edge seemed to taper into a hook.
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When the soul infusion died down, the core glowed like a glittering gem. It was a time limit now. The power of the core was ticking down to an end.
Wylin swallowed as Stilks ran a single thumb over the guard. Not only had the basic common soul reshaped the very blade, it had also turned the handle a greenish colour, the metal black and the guard become covered with short bristly hair.
The hooked point, a stinger, leaked a yellow liquid and Mortz quickly moved forward.
“Careful, you’ll spend too much energy and waste the weapon. Relax and calm yourself,” he instructed Stilks. The other boy was in awe, unable to let go of the weapon, not wanting to let go of the power he now held.
Wylin tried to keep his growing envy form showing, he’d be up soon enough and he’d have a weapon just as equal. It was just... he had waited so long to be where Stilks was right now.
Forging his own hunter’s weapon.
He itched to pull out his notepad and write down the combination. A simple sword plus a Forest Stinger core formed a rapier with a stinger edge... perhaps poisonous.
Wylin had only seen dead Forest Stingers. They weren’t friendly. Wylin wanted to see them in action, how they moved, how they acted... He might be able to see how the creature’s core would match certain weapons or armour. He longed to note this all down. Silune gave him another pinch and he kept standing straight.
He’d have to pinch her back later...
A girl was called up and the process continued. She chose a basic dagger, straight and tapered to a point then she picked the same type of core, a Forest Stinger. The result was a wicked curved black dagger that while not gaining any edges, the point had a little barb to it and the handle had a sweet smell to it.
Wylin couldn’t stop the thought in his head. He matched it to a picture he saw in one of his lessons on infused Core Weapons.
It was the ‘Forest Stinger-Upgraded common Dagger’ combination. Wylin had already renamed it the ‘Black Forest Dagger’. It was snappier and just felt better than the dry classifications that he had to learn all day. The girl had the same reaction that Stilks did to his, utter awe.
Cores and Weapons. Wylin daydreamed, actually dreamed, doodled, talked, debated, argued, read, listened, pestered, imagined... everything he could about them. His life revolved around these items now. His classmates' lives did as well, so did the halls, the street, the very city.
A single Forest Stinger, a dangerous pest, could infuse with any of the weapons on the table. Any of them. The sheer potential one core had was exciting. There were over 7 different core types on the table alone and Wylin felt his fingers shake.
Monsters were a real threat to human life. Without the city core barrier, the nightly attacks would drive the humans into a dark time, but the chance presented if you killed one and got its core? It turned the danger into a glorious mission.
Wylin knew that the cores on the table could power Hunters hall and the surrounding streets for a few weeks. That was how they had light, heat, running water, working security and so much more. While technology was heavily based on the cores, their energy being drained in reactors instead of slowly diminishing in a weapon, Wylin was still pleased to see people slowly coming up with coreless-tech. It was nothing grand. Horseless carriages that worked on burning fuels or certain machines that ran off pressure and such.
Cores still held a great power, however. Especially at the centre of the city. That was where the single Grade-10 core rested. The Dawn Bringer Phoenix Core was infused into a shield that sat on a pillar. The effect of this fusion between the legendary core and the shield that survived the battle with it was an aura barrier that kept monsters out of a perfect 360-degree shield barrier that covered 100 square kilometres worth of Geriat.
His home, his city. Geriat.
Cores were amazing. Wylin tried to calm himself, feeling jittery as people went before him. Someone used a new core.
“Using the Thorned Frog Core? Interesting choice with a mace,” Mortz commented and the resulting soul infusion made the mace head turned smooth and glossy. It fell off the metal grip the boy held and there was silence before everyone saw a thin line connecting the smooth ball to the handle. The boy gave it a few swings when it hit the training dummy, the ball was suddenly covered in tiny spikes that ripped the sack like skin off the dummy as it recoiled back onto the handle, making Wylin’s classmate stumble back with a pleased expression.
Wylin shivered.
A mace plus a Thorned frog made some morning star that acted like a toy, a kendama, that merchants once brought from another city far away. Wylin called it the ‘Hidden Thorn Mace’. He knew it had a proper name but he just...
He just felt like everything had become worth it.
Everything he did was worth it.
“Wylin Weirmoor,” Mortz called and Wylin tried to force his shaky legs to move and had some success when Silune’s cruel fingers reached for him again.
He walked to the weapon’s table and stared at his future lying out before him in clumps of messily organized steel and wood. Wylin eyed the other table and saw the glowing orbs that would go hand in hand with his weapon.
Wylin Weirmoor smiled and reached for the instrument in front of him. This was the day he became a hunter. He would hold the weapon of legends, he had taken the first step on his journey.
Today was the day he would begin to build up the power to find his Father. Find the man who had left Wylin with nothing but stale bread and a burned down home.
Wylin picked up the simple banded staff with a core groove set in the centre of the weapon and knew the hunt had finally, after three long years, begun.
“A staff. A hardy weapon but requires mastery. Interesting choice,” Mortz did not condemn or mock Wylin’s choice, he simply watched as Wylin turned the to the table of Cores. The class watched, the assistants watched, and for awhile, Wylin just watched the table.
Rows of seven cores glinted back at him. Each one demanding awe and respect from their sheer wonderful existence. Wylin swallowed and read the labels.
He could go for a Forest Stinger... it might result in a lance or a spear of some kind. Maybe the Thorned Frog? A spiked baton? Would that be the outcome?
Wylin licked his lips and then eyed the middle row.
Bore Worm Core.
Wylin tried to remember ever seeing a weapon using this core and his mind came up blank. He itched for his notebook but pushed the urge aside. Something took ahold him and he couldn’t help the smile that appeared.
He really just wanted to know what the combination would make. A staff and a Bore worm core, the sheer fact he could make such a combination made him want to try it.
Instructor Mortz raised one brow and then simply waited. That was all the permission Wylin needed. He shot Silune a grin. The girl broke the calm expression to shoot him an exasperated look and urged him to hurry up.
Wylin slotted the core into the staff and with a flick oh his thumb, broke the core weak spot.
The brown aura surrounded his staff and Wylin felt the power of the monster that the core had once been begun flowing through him.
Earth, roots, hunger, darkness, predator! It recoiled and snapped forward...victory!
Wylin’s smile grew brighter as the staff changed.
The hunt had finally... begun.
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My side project.
I was reading a light novel and it started well enough with a similar concept and then well... it had the problem of average fictions. Then it just ignored the base concept and it broke my heart. So here we are. I hope you all enjoy! I'll be bouncing between this and my dungeon fic with a teasing amount of fun.,
Thanks to my friend Knolden for helping my turn my basic idea into a decent outcome.
