Chapter 1
CristOF ran swiftly but quietly through the jungle, making sure not to let his prey hear his footsteps. Thesmell of the jungle enveloped him, familiar and welcoming. He closed his eyes and used his enhanced senses to take in his environment. Most Katierans and Kiljorns had great senses but those in his family had mastered them to a much greater degree.
He could smell the dampness of the ground and knew it had rained at least three hours ago. The rain combined with fallen leaves gave a warm enticing scent. The leaves were of a spectrum of colors ranging from orange to blue. Each tree had a trunk as wide as three adult warriors and as tall as the buildings in the city. The trees had a distinct smell to them as well. Each tree had its own scent, each one individual: some sweet others bitter. The birds high in the branches above chirped happily but when a large predator moved close by, they quieted down. He felt more at home in the jungles than anywhere else on Kiljor.
Continuing with his hunt, he remembered the tracking and hunting lessons his grandfather had given him so many years ago when he was just a boy. His grandparents had raised him most of his life. His mother had died in childbirth and his father was killed in battle when he was five. He had no memory of his mother and very few memories of his father; his grandparents had been everything to him. They showed him pictures of his parents often and told him stories, making sure he knew them. His grandmother was the mother figure he needed, and his grandfather taught him what it meant to be a warrior and a hunter for his people.
They had been a loving close family. He was alone now, both of his grandparents had passed on to be with the Goddess, but he would always be grateful to them for all that that had done for him. He loved and missed them each and every day.
He’d grown up on Siladas, a remote part of Kiljor where the jungle met the ocean. Only a handful of families lived that far out. It was primitive but beautiful, just as the Goddess intended. This was home to him, and the place where he felt the closest to his grandparents. Today he was hunting one of the deadliest creatures on his planet: afixel. Commander TylOR’s mate Lizzie had once told him that the Kiljornfixeltasted like Earth’s chicken. He didn’t have any idea what chicken tasted like, but he planned on making afixelstew with his catch for the day.
The thought of the female from Earth made him lean back against the trunk of the tree he was perched in. He’d last visited the prime city of Kiljorn a few months ago with the intent of finding a mate among one of the Earth females who had moved to Kiljor from Katiera.
The Kiljorn people originated from the Katieran nation, but had separated many years ago due to conflicts that arose from a viral attack by their old enemy, the Morins. Many decades ago, before he was even born, the Morins attacked the Katieran people with a virus that was responsible for not only killing a good number of his people, but which also caused permanent mutations within them. The mutations ranged from slight to extreme, and some of them affected the reproductive ability of many Katierans. The Kiljorns were not the only ones who had separated themselves from the Katierans; those with the most extreme mutations founded their own nation on the Colonial planet. It was only recently that the three nations had come together in a joint effort to fight against the return of the Morins.
His own family had suffered a mutation, which had passed down from his grandfather, to his father, to him. His family’s mutation involved enhanced senses, even more pronounced than those his people already had. CristOF could hunt his prey for miles without getting tired, and in the dark his eyes were able to see as if it was daytime. He climbed trees easily. He could leap from tree to tree, he was able to walk with no sound to alert the enemy, and could scent blood and determine easily what creature it came from. These mutations made him into the best tracker of his people; no one hunted as well as he did
A sound from a few feet ahead of him made him freeze in place. He held his breath, waiting. There, by the tree to his right, a small white furry creature chewed on a leafy plant. The crunch of dried leaves on the ground made the little whitebobbikitsprint off through the brush. A much larger black creature sprang out and gave chase—thefixel.It would be his.
That was the moment CristOF had been waiting patiently for. He followed after the creatures, two long blades he held in each of his hands. He could hear the instructions his grandfather had given him on his very first hunt, directing him:
“Move softly. Wait, and move when your prey moves. Always keep to the shadows to hide your presence. Never forget to keep your eyes on your prey at all times.”
“I will, Grandfather.”
Timing was everything; he had to be patient, steady, and ready to strike when the time came. He moved closer, toward the edge of the forest, making his footsteps silent and undetectable. When the black creature sprang, he made his own move to intercept.
The creature almost had his talons in thebobbikit,but CristOF didn’t care about the smaller creature. He was after thefixel. Thefixelwas three feet on when on the ground. It had with six legs but the top two had three-inch claws. The creature was covered with thick dark fur and under that was an inch of thick hide to protect itself from other predators. Its teeth were as long and sharp as its talons. Both the talons and the teeth were deadly; he would have to use extreme caution.
CristOF lunged at the large blackfixel, hitting him in the side knocking him over. Thefixelimmediately got back up on all six paws, making a sound that was half growl, half screech. The noise was fearsome, and had thebobbikitscuttling away to freedom.
Now CristOF faced the dangerousfixelbefore him. They were on equal footing—well, at least fair ground. Apart from having six feet to his two, beast was three times his weight, with talons and sharp pointy teeth. One wrong move on his part and he would be the meal this evening.
His grandfather had warned him to never take his eyes off his prey or his enemy, but to be patient and observant, looking for signs of weakness or a moment when his opponent was distracted. His teachings were just as true on the battlefield as they were in the jungles.
Thefixelscreeched again and shuffled its front paws in the dirt, trying to intimidate CristOF. He didn’t respond or run; instead he moved carefully in a circular pattern, keeping his eyes on the creature. He knew better than to move too quickly. More of his grandfather’s words of wisdom came to him:
“Don’t rush. Let your prey make the first move, then you make yours.”
Thefixellurched forward, raising his front talons to take a swipe at him. CristOF took a step back, easily avoiding the sharp claws. He raised both of his hands that held two long curved hunting blades. Each blade was about half the length of his arm.
“My turn,” he whispered as he jumped forward, swinging his blades.
He stepped forward as the creature moved back. Thefixelwas older and more cunning; it wouldn’t make this easy on CristOF. He dodged the talons and swiped out with his blades cutting the creature making it bleed. Thefixelmade to run away, but he blocked its path, cornering it.
The creature raised his head and screeched louder in anger and pain. It swiped at CristOF again and again. He kept out of reach of its lunges but continued to block its escape, allowing the creature to use up most of its strength and energy. They battled over and over, but CristOF was an experienced hunter and he never lost his prey. He fought the creature until it had suffered too many wounds to recover. At that point he quickly ended its life, so that it would no longer suffer.
“I give thanks to the Goddess KatiERi for the sustenance I receive, and ask that this creature’s life force is renewed.” His people rarely hunted like this, preferring to eat vegetables, fruits, protein supplements. If they need something more filling, they fished the waters of Kiljor. In his opinion, nothing beat a good stew with fresh meat. Of course, the amount of meat from this onefixelwas too much for him to eat alone. He would take only what he needed and donate the rest to a few families that lived nearby. This amount of meat would be enough to feed them for several months.
It took very little time for him to clean thefixeland get his stew going. It was delicious and satisfying. Several hours later he packed up the rest of the meat and was ready to leave when his comm link beeped. For a moment, he considered not answering it. Then he immediately felt ashamed for even considering it. His honor would not allow him to shirk his responsibilities.
He knelt down and pulled his comm link out, placing it in his ear. He answered with his code name. “This is the Hunter.”
“Hunter, we need you to report to the prime city. Top-level security.”
He stilled. Top level? That would mean there was a threat either to the prime family or to Kiljor itself. Was it the Morins? Have they returned and attacked Kiljor again?
“I understand. I’ll be there by first light.”
Ending his communication, he stood up. He had just enough time to drop off the meat with the families before returning to his shuttle. He would set the controls for automatic flight and get a few hours of sleep before reporting to his commander. He answered only to Commander TylOR and Prime Leader KadEN. Whatever the security risk was, he would take the mission and serve his people as he always did. Maybe one day, if the Goddess KatieRI blessed him, he would settle down with a mate but that time was not now, not today.
