Bloodmoon

Bloodmoon was certain that he had her.

It was not difficult to follow her. She'd been making a kind of wailing cry ever since she left the Wyrmwound. Sometimes it was only a low moan. Other times, it rose to a banshee shriek--but the noise was continuous. A blind hatchling could have followed her.

Getting close enough to kill or attempt neutralization was another matter, though. He'd been tracking this Ghoul for miles, ever since the previous Hunter had misjudged his attack and sent her spiraling off toward the Shadow border. Being Shadowborn helped him to hide in the fringes of the Tangled Wood, so he was fairly certain that she did not know that she was still being tracked.

Then why did she stay far offshore, skimming the surface of the Sea? He wondered at this, but there was so rarely a real motive for what a Ghoul did. All he could do for now was watch, and pray that there were no Water clans nearby.

For weeks he slunk along the shoreline. He dodged settlements, warned seafarers of their danger, and always kept the Ghoul in sight. Sometimes that required winging out to sea, or borrowing a boat. But she continued south.

The next settlement contained a lot of adventurers and messengers. He had a hard time convincing them to not go after the Ghoul themselves. He had to cure a couple of sick hatchlings and sing a few Plague ditties, but they finally agreed to send out warnings in as many directions as they could. This delay cost him the sight of the Ghoul.

Cursing, he continued along the shore as best he could. The Ghoul seemed to have veered off from the Light border (he didn't blame her there). He didn't find her near the Lightning border, either. And no one could track a Ghoul over Water, except maybe a Water Necromancer. But those seemed in short supply as well.

He reached the Fire/Lightning border at last, and still there was no sign of the Ghoul. The seaside clan there offered him hospitality for the night, which he accepted.

He was awakened in the middle of the night by the sounds of many dragons gearing up hastily for war--and the eerie banshee wail of the Ghoul.

"Don't trouble yourself," the clan leader said. "My warriors can handle this."

"No, they can't!" Panicked, he rushed out to stop them. In the moonlight glistening on scales and swords, all he could make out at first was a pack of Mirrors, overseen by a massive Guardian. A swarm of mages coated the cliffside; he wondered how effective they would prove.

"Stop, please!" he shouted. "You don't know what you're up against!"

The Mirror pack took off, snarling their war cries. The Guardian followed. He cursed again, and took to the air. "STOP!"

He cursed himself roundly as he flailed to catch up. He never should have agreed to spend the night. He never should have wasted time trying to warn the other Water lairs. He never should have slept at all; the Mother's Blessing would sustain him for a short time without it. He definitely should have put in more flight hours during his Hunter training.

The Ghoul turned on the Mirror warriors. Suddenly one of them darted forward to attack. He cried out in despair once more; she was only just coming into maturity. So young to be cut off so quickly!

"Be careful, Achlys!" one of the Mirrors called out.

The Mirror dropped her weapon and darted up to place a claw on the Ghoul's chest. To his utter shock, her left claw glowed a sickly green and red as the Ghoul tried to resist, sending out massive waves of Plague. The other warriors drew back, uneasy. One of them sneezed repeatedly.

Bloodmoon winged up to the sneezing warrior and touched him. Yes, he recognized that strain. It was what made this Ghoul so deadly. He hurried to remove it from the male Mirror's system, and then turned to see if the young Mirror had perished yet.

She had not. Now she was chanting one of the incantations he knew all too well. There was nothing he could do to help her at this point, so he resigned himself to cleansing the other warriors and waiting, ready to complete the incantations should she fail. Although after the mistakes he'd already made, he wasn't certain he'd depend on himself, either.

The Ghoul shuddered, and toppled from the sky. She fluttered down to the water and lay like a dead leaf on the surface. The young Necromancer took a moment longer to conquer the virulency contained within her left claw, but the angry green and red glow diminished, and she turned to look at him, her Plague eyes flashing in the moonlight.

He nodded to her. "Well done."

She smiled shyly, and then swooped down to rescue the Neutralized Ghoul. The Fae was still unconscious but alive.

As they flew back to the clan's caves, he got close enough to scent her. Water-washed as it was, the scent was unmistakable: she was Plagueborn, of his mother's lineage. Some kind of great-niece or something. He didn't bother to try to work it out exactly.

Only slightly disappointed, he nodded to her again as they landed. "Congratulations--cousin. You are now the possessor of a former Ghoul."

"Cousin?"

He tapped his nose. "Never doubt a Tundra."

She glanced down at the bedraggled Fae in her arms. "What do I do with her?"

"Whatever you want. She is at your service for life." He bowed grandly in her direction. "As am I, Necromancer Achlys."

Notes:

• "Cousin" of Achlys (i.e. related and so can't breed)
• Recognized her talents when he witnessed her neutralization of Erixitl (something he was not capable of completing) and became a devoted follower
• Good-natured and snarky
• Political aspirations are unknown. For now, he is content to remain at the rank of Standing.
• Primary specialty Hunter
• Secondary Specialty Healer
• Tertiary specialty Inculcator (yes, he's aware those don't usually go together)

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