Monster Hunter: The Fourth Bullet, Part 2

This story was made using the solo RPG: Monster Hunter, by La esquina del rol.

“Ah!” The sands settled for only a moment. “Brave and bold! There is little you could offer us, child. We who flit through the air know all things that the air touches. We hear all things whispered and see all things seen.”

Vic smiled. Her mother had called it a curse; the elementals had great power but cared for nothing. All the secrets they knew, and they didn’t want for any of them. “Then you know where the legendary bullets lie?”

“Hmm…” The air seemed to think, though it had no mind to think with. “We know of one. I lies buried deep in this very desert.”

Vic’s heart skipped a beat. “Can you tell me where? Show me where it’s buried?”

The airy sprite swung back and forth, a windy kind of childish smile. “Why should we do that?”

Vic took a slow breath. She had never dealt with an elemental directly before, but she had listed to plenty of her elders describe their own dealings. She had come prepared.

“I’ll race you.”

The sound of the elemental ebbed, then rose again. “Race us?”

Vic gave a nod. It was a risky gambit, but she was running out of time. “Ever race a Hunter before? I’ll bet not. Ever wanted to see if you could beat one?”

“We are the wind,” the elemental answered, though its tone was less a boast, more a protest. “We can outrace the sun itself.”

Vic undid the top fastener of her shirt and carefully bore her shoulder to the air. “See that? That’s a tattoo given to every Hunter when they are initiated. It gives them the strength of the tree and the speed of the elk. It’s older than even the Borderlands.” At least, that was the legend. Vic wasn’t sure any of it was true, but it didn’t matter if she believed…

After a pause, the wind rustled the tree branches, giggling madly. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes. Yesyesyes, we will race you! We will race to the bullet, and if you get there before us, we will get it for you. If we beat you, we will take the bullet, and you shall never see us again!”

Vic swallowed. “Deal.”

The elemental sprite wove and danced around Vic. “We will let you begin, so you cannot say we are cheaters. North is where you must run. Head north! Run straight, run hard, and we shall see which of us is the fastest!”

Vic stood up and gathered her things. She took her time, making sure her tools were safely stowed and firmly packed. By the time she was finished, the wind was spinning up a whirlwind of sand. “Hurry,” it gasped, pushing at Vic’s jacket. “Start running! I want to race!”

Vic shouldered her bag and took one final cleansing breath. “I’m ready.”

She took off like a shot, tearing down the side of the dune and off towards the north. The compass gripped in her hand would keep her on track, but the sand would slow her down. It had been a risk — a huge risk — but if she was ever going to get the bullet, she hadn’t much choice.

Sure enough, climbing the second dune proved a horrible challenge. She slid, scrambled, and strained to pull her heavy body up and over the hill. The slippery sand sent her tipping forward at the top, filling her mouth with grit. She spat out what she could, not even pausing a moment before sliding down the other side and forcing her legs to continue pumping.

Trust yourself, trust your body. It knows what it has to do.

Her mother’s advice rose in her memory. Vic had not taken easily to the life of a Hunter, but her mother had trusted her. She had taught Vic to trust herself.

Her legs working fast, she ran down the dune only to use her momentum to help push her up the next. She didn’t concern herself with finding solid footing — there wasn’t any. Instead she concentrated on moving forward, running lightly on top of the hot sands. She felt her body move and followed where it guided her.

The gentle giggle of air threatened to distract her, but she ignored it, concentrating instead on the wind on her face and the feeling of sand flying behind her. It was foolish to try and race an elemental, but she had to try.

Her body free to run as it willed, her eyes were able to watch ahead. She watched for the tell-tale signs of hidden pitfalls and easier slopes. She began mapping a winding path over and around the dunes — a longer path, but a faster one.

The giggling drifted away, the wind died down. Vic kept running.

She was faster than the elk, the river, maybe even the sun…but was she faster than the wind? Could she be?

Vic kept running. The compass still pointed north, and she would not stop until she found the bullet.

The elemental could have turned at any point. It could be heading west this very moment, while Vic was running further and further away. She could have already lost. Old Splitfoot could be laughing at her right now, calling her a fool.

Don’t give up. Keep running. Keep fighting.

Why? Why keep fighting when the cause was hopeless? Her life was nothing but pain and struggling for survival, all in the hopes that she might one day get the chance to kill something that was unkillable. It was the most futile goal she had ever been on.

She ran on until the sun went down. She kept running. She ran until her legs gave out and threw her to the dunes, and then she crawled. She crawled until her arms refused to move, and her body burned with agony.

It all felt so distant, so unimportant. Why keep doing what she knew she would fail at? Even if Old Splitfoot could be killed, it wouldn’t have been her who did it. Her parents could have, but she…

Vic closed her eyes. Her parents had believed in her

She lay there, in the dark, for what seemed mere seconds before the morning sunlight pierced her eye.

“That’s it?”

The throbbing pain in Vic’s skull was not lessened by the hissing complaint of the sprite. With limbs that ached worse than anything, she struggled to sit up. “I did my best.”

“You didn’t even get halfway there! Such a disappointment. We could have been there and back three times in the time it took to get you here.”

“Did you?” Vic shifted her backpack, readjusting her rifle and supplies. “Get there, I mean?”

“Of course I did,” the air’s tone was scornful. “I got the bullet and everything, so you know I didn’t cheat.”

“Oh?” Vic cocked an eyebrow. “Where is it?

“Here it is,” the whirling winds spun a cloud of sand that turned the world almost opaque before lessening to reveal the glint of a small golden bullet.

Vic acted before she had time to think. Her hand shot forward as her legs bent, catapulting her forward through the sand. Her hand closed tightly…

The bullet was in her fist.

“Hey!” The wind picked up, sand whirling and spinning about Vic’s head. She felt it cut into her cheeks, scratching at her eyelids, and clawing at her clothes. The wind felt like fists striking her all over, tearing at her fist, desperate to open her fingers. “That’s mine! Give it back!”

Vic’s other hand pulled out a small strip of metal she had surreptitiously taken from her pouch. Brandishing it in front of her, she shouted: “Back and begone!”

Instantly, the wind vanished. A whimpering sneer from nearby met the sudden resounding silence in Vic’s ears. “That’s cheating!”

Vic opened her eyes and turned to point the metal about her. “No, it isn’t. This is a piece of truesteel, marked with the sign of blessed peace. You can’t hurt me.”

“You tricked me,” the elemental fumed. “Cheater! You said we would race!”

“We did race,” Vic felt her breath start to calm, the reassuring weight of bullet and truesteel in both hands providing comfort. “You won. There’s no Hunter who can take that from you.”

“Hmph.” The wind snorted before vanishing once more, to flit about among the dunes and dead that wandered them.

Keeping the truesteel clutched in her hand, she carefully opened her fist to peek at the bullet in her palm. It was made of pure gold. It had no mystical symbols carved on it where she could see, and it was frighteningly light in her hand. Almost like it wasn’t there.

Shifting the truesteel to her other hand, she pulled out her father’s gun and loaded it with the fourth bullet. “Two more,” she muttered to herself as she holstered the gun once more. She knew where the sixth bullet was — her parents had told her long ago — it was the fifth bullet she needed now.

With the pack on her back, she looked around again, getting her bearings and checking her compass before setting off once more. She could clearly feel the pull, tugging her forcefully towards the southeast, deeper into the Borderlands. Whatever lay in that direction, it was there she’d find her way.

Adjusting the pack onto her back, she set off, keeping the truesteel brandished until she got clear of the sandy dunes.