By Lyra Zwahn

Content Warning: Action, Death, Illness, Violence

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“Wake up, M’kaetu! The sun is nearly up,” M’tal Ra hissed before gulping bitter medicine from a small vial. He winced.

M’kaetu Farther, or simply Kaetu, rolled over in his makeshift rucksack and groaned, “I’m up. I’m up!” He sat upright, still heavily wrapped in the furs — a mass of pelts that offered a warm night’s sleep through chilly desert night. He flopped the material down from his face and yawned.

The day began with archery practice in the lingering fog, and despite his poor condition and trembling hands, M’tal was exceptional. Bullseye after bullseye, he put Kaetu to shame with his astounding accuracy. Kaetu drew back his arrow and looked at the target drawn in chalk on the tree, “You know, M’tal … I may not be as good a shot as you, but at least I can play the lute!” He let the arrow fly, and it snapped through the bark just beside M’tal’s.

M’tal laughed heartily.

After the good warmup, the two packed their items and set off in search of their target at mid-morning. The sun cast an orange glow across the dry, jagged landscape. Dark scrub brush dotted the hillside as the only decoration along the winding path. Kaetu glanced over at his friend. M’tal was pale and weak, wheezing and sweating profusely. Kaetu knew his friend’s time was near. This hunt needed to go well, because it was his last request. 

To think, their lifelong friendship would end soon. The weight of this put a lump in Kaetu’s throat; he swallowed hard and returned his focus to the rocky soil on the path. He pulled the lute from his back and strummed a few chords quietly as they marched.

M’tal couldn’t help but smile.

Kaetu peered over the rocks. The midday sun was scorching hot, bleaching out the sand and stones in his vision. Muscular Gagana pecked about in the greener area near a shimmering oasis. Their tall bodies were covered in gray brown and silver feathers, and their beaks were barely yellow. Not only were the birds prized for quills and arrow fletching, but their flesh was key to the M Tribe’s food supply. Curing it into jerky sustained the M Tribe while hunting and through tough times of drought and famine.

A perfect shot landed on the bird’s torso. The arrow pierced its flesh in a puff of feathers, and the creature flopped to the ground almost instantly. Kaetu released a volley of arrows and struck down another bird nearby. Two down! Suddenly, a bird fluttered overhead. It swooped noisily in their direction, but it was no match for M’tal’s piercing aim. In a flash, it was downed, and all the other creatures cleared away in a cacophony of shrieks, barks, and howls.

Kaetu dragged his bird over to the first and started to unpack his sled for dragging them back home. M’tal would be too weak to help, so it was going to be a task to haul three of them home. M’tal wobbled over soon after with the third creature, and the two Miqo’te hunters took a moment to stand back and admire their game. Their faces were alight with pride from their success. Still, Kaetu’s eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of his best friend — sick, pale, and trembling yet still somehow as sharp with a bow as ever. He appreciated this hunt, this last good memory.

A menacing growl broke the silence. The two hunters drew their bows without a second thought and turned to see a large reptilian creature stepping over the rocks on the hill from where the duo launched their attack. It was a Muud Suud, a behemoth of a creature with long, muscular arms and a tusked maw. It had followed their scent from afar, but now it smelled the blood of their kills.

And, it was hungry.

M’tal fired a shot at the creature’s head, but the arrow practically bounced off its hide. Its scales were impossibly hard. Another shot from M’tal managed to stick in the creature’s torso as it charged down the hill toward the two. Kaetu struck the monster with a slowing attack, chaining it down with aether, but the beast was too large and strong. It dragged along the curse slowly, then broke free of the translucent chains. It surged at M’tal and struck him aside with its large claw, sending him flying into the air. He tumbled to the ground and lay there motionless.

“M’tal!” Kaetu shouted. He released a volley of arrows, which stung enough to get the beast’s attention. It whirled around and charged in his direction. He fired shot after shot, running down to his final arrow, only managing to slow the creature and irritate it further. It roared a mighty roar into the sky, its razor teeth exposed. Kaetu froze.

An arrow struck the beast in the eye – a perfect shot. M’ta gave his last onze of strength to fire an arrow into the creature’s weakest point. “M’kaetu,” M’tal howled, “hit it there!”

A surge of confidence traveled through Kaetu’s body. A wave of strength, a flood of courage and power overtook him. That beast, it had broken Kaetu’s limit, and with all his might, he leaped into the air to load his final arrow. He drew the string back and stared down the arrow shaft at his writhing target. It clutched at its face, obscuring the strike, so timing had to be perfect.

“Bullseye!” M’tal shouted.

With a shout, Kaetu let the arrow fly. It struck perfectly into the previous shot, split the arrow, and pierced through to the beast’s brain. The creature shrieked and flailed. It growled and tumbled to the ground in a huge cloud of dust, finally defeated.

Kaetu landed deftly and rushed to his wounded friend. “M’tal, your medicine!” Kaetu huffed as he raised M’tal’s head up from the ground.

M’tal gently shook his head, “No, Kaetu.” He smiled, mouth red with blood. “Not this time.”

Kaetu wanted to say something but couldn’t. He tried; he thought he might know what to do when the time came to say goodbye but didn’t. All he could do was nod.

“I always knew you could do it,” M’tal whispered, and the two friends smiled. M’tal passed away silently on that hot desert day.

Kaetu placed the final stone above M’tal’s burial mound as the evening sun cast orange light across the sands. He stopped to rest for a moment, to take it all in. What a day it had been. He knew his friend was no longer suffering and smiled at the thought of his final, triumphant days.

“What a hero,” he said as he picked up his bow. He gathered his lute and set off toward home with a sled full of game in tow.

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