The Tuesday after Church, Lexi and Donaldson took Renalia out for her first hunting lesson. Even before reaching the bog, walking under the protection of two experienced hunters offered a marked contrast to her first trip four days prior. For while her heart still beat fast, it was more with excitement than anxiety and dread.

On top of that, she held a professionally made spear with a smooth wood shaft and a real spearhead. While longer than Shim’s makeshift spear, it felt more balanced, without the mess of leather straps tying a dagger to a wooden pole.

She also wore a shirt with a dense weave and pants with pockets. The ribboned rings Marcy had added to the shirt worked well to hold her lunch at the small of her back. It wasn’t as sleek and stylish as the leather straps that the two older hunters had, but it worked just as well.

Marcy had also helped tie her hair into a bun at the back of her head. And she noticed that Lexi kept her hair cropped short, barely kissing the nape of her neck.

Lexi, the stockier of the two, held a shield in her left hand and a short one-handed spear in her right. She walked on Renalia’s left, with firm and measured steps. Donaldson, tall and slim, carried a spear that overshot his six-foot frame by several feet. He took long, easy strides on her right.

On the way out of the village, her companions asked what Malchim had already taught her. When she replied that Shim had told her to distract the bogling while Boogie handled it, they stared at her incredulously. Their reaction made her feel inadequate, even though not receiving training was not her fault.

“Malchim said I had a hunter’s instinct,” she said, trying to justify what had happened. She had thought going hunting by herself was an awful idea at the time. But since all the Ongock children went along with it, she assumed it was something hunting families did. And Shim’s dad was an adult. And … and he had been so demanding.

It didn’t seem like she could say no. But she really should have, though. So, in a way, it was kind of her fault.

Lexi scrunched her brows. “No one doubts your bravery, kid. But that’s only the start. To be a real hunter, you need to go out day after day and come back safely. That takes discipline, practice, and knowledge, not just courage. It is not an easy path, but it is a rewarding path.”

Renalia blinked her eyes. Besides the bit about courage, Granny had said almost the exact same things when she asked about teaching her letters and numbers. She supposed it made sense, as misspelled words did not try to kill her.

“I want to learn,” she said.

“Good.” Lexi smiled kindly. “That’s kind of why we’re here.”

They then asked her to describe her first hunting trip in detail. Taking care to replace mentions of Shim’s spear with a stick she found, she recounted her experiences with the hare and the mole. Everything except the almost-dying part. Or the putting undead cards into her Core part. And not the splitting of her lunch with Boogie detail, which she had learned she was not supposed to do.

The siblings glanced at each other with wide eyes when she finished.

Uncertain if the stick made the tale too incredible, Renalia tugged uncomfortably at the ribbons around her neck. The knots felt either too loose or too tight, as Marcy had tied it poorly through her teary eyes, seeing again the bruises and the welt where Granny’s necklace had bitten into the skin.

Honestly, it was like the girl herself got hurt, instead of Renalia. But she was thankful for Marcy’s help.

Thankful, too, that however mad Ullock had been, he had not unleashed the strength that his muscles hinted at. Of course, she would have never let it get that far. [Bogling Skin] would have protected her neck while [Bogling Claws] would have severed his hands from his wrists. It scared her, this cold calculation she made while under the influence of [Dull Emotions]. She knew that she would carry this emotional weight with her, long after the physical injuries had faded.

Lexi cleared her throat, bringing Renalia’s thoughts back to the present.

“Alright, lesson one,” Lexi said, breaking the silence, “if you ever see a bogling the size of that hare–run. We don’t understand exactly how the bog brings them back to life, but it probably has to do with the water. And the more water the bogling holds, the more powerful it is.”

“But I couldn’t really run. It was so much faster than I am.”

“For sure,” Donaldson acknowledged. “You were unlucky with that one, though. Most boglings won’t be so fast.”

“And I couldn’t leave Boogie to fight it by himself.”

Donaldson looked to Lexi, who knelt down beside Renalia to see eye to eye with her. Placing the shield by her feet and resting the short spear on her shoulders, Lexi placed her now freed hands on Renalia’s shoulders.

“Listen, kid, I was just like you when I was your age. My Blueberry was my best friend in the world, and I spoiled her rotten. I gave her food and shelter. And in return, she gave me love and companionship. For that is the bond between a girl and her dog. But that’s only back in the village.”

She tilted her chin ahead of them, where the three dogs had fanned out, forming a triangle with them at the trailing vertex. “Out here, they’re working. Out here, they know their role is to sight boglings and sacrifice themselves for us if necessary.”

Renalia frowned. She couldn’t ask that of Boogie. She’s not even his owner. And he had saved her life. He was her friend.

Lexi saw her expression and continued. “And in return, our role is to be the best damn hunter we can be so that they never have to make that choice. For that is the bond between a Hunter and her Hound. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Renalia replied.

Lexi puckered her mouth like she bit into a sour cherry. “Oh God, no, that sounds awful. Just call me Lexi.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being called ‘Sir’,” Donaldson said. Lexi squinted up at him. “Ahem, I mean, call me Donaldson.”

They resumed walking and Lexi said, “Lesson two–”

“More like lesson three,” Donaldson interjected.

“Eh, I was never really good at numbers.”

“You’re not balancing the books. It’s just counting. One, two, three.”

“Lesson two,” Lexi said firmly, “Once you place that harness on a dog, you are the Hunter and he is your hunting dog. And while he’s a hunting dog, he needs to obey your every command, without fail. So if you have decided to run, he should run with you.”

“Like so. Porkchop, come,” Lexi called. Her dog, exploring ahead of them in the distance, rushed back and crouched down in front of her. Porkchop? Blueberry? Maybe I shouldn’t have made fun of Shim for his naming sense. Porkchop was beige and even bigger than Boogie.

Taking a big step over the dog, Lexi continued speaking, “They have good instincts a lot of the time, but they will always choose to chase and hunt if given the chance. So you will need to make better decisions for them. When to defend, when to retreat. What to fight, what to retrieve. When to push forward, when to go back home. Understand?”

Renalia flushed with shame at all the mistakes she had made during her first hunt. Plus, the failure to command Boogie had almost cost him an eye. The guilt continued to gnaw at her, but she forced herself to acknowledge her weakness. “I guess. But Boogie doesn’t always listen to me, though.”

“It’s understandable,” Donaldson said. “You were not part of his training, so have not built up a working rapport with him. And Shim probably did not do enough to establish that you are his Hunter doing a Hunt.

“We’ll work more on this back in the village when Boogie’s less distracted. For now, I’ll manage Boogie since I’ve worked with him before. Take this.” He handed her a leather bracelet with a dangling strap. “Killer has been trained to obey the person with the bracelet.” Killer? Gah, do boys never grow up?

“Raise your hand high so she can see it and call her. And remember, this is a command, not a conversation with a friend, so say it with authority. Demand that it be obeyed.”

“Killer”–she stumbled over the name–“come!” The wolfhound, with a dark gray coat, ran to her, with only the slightest glance at Donaldson while passing him by.

“Good, now praise her, let her know she did the right thing,” Donaldson told her.

“Good girl, good … Killer.” Killer licked her lips at the praise, but did not respond to Renalia’s pets. Right, you’re working out here.

“Great,” said Lexi. “Sometimes, we’d have the dogs far apart to allow for side flanks.” Renalia glanced back at Porkchop, small in the distance. He remained down on the ground where Lexi had originally called him, staring intently at the back of Lexi’s head. Similarly, Killer tracked Renalia’s every movement, waiting for the next command.

“But we’ll talk about formations later. It’s not really that important anymore. For now, we’ll just let them scout. Porky, free. Take point.”

From Renalia’s side, Donaldson whispered, “Killer’s release word is pee.”

Renalia looked at him with furrowed brows, but he was intently inspecting his long spear. Lexi shook her head. “I didn’t have the chance to intervene. My brother had already trained Killer”–eye roll–“before I realized how stupid he was going to be.”

“What do you mean?” Donaldson asked. “Release and pee. It makes perfect sense.”

“It’s juvenile.”

“Ooh, look at you with your fancy adult words.”

They continued their playful bickering for a few minutes, with Renalia swiveling her head back and forth between them. She enjoyed the give and take, making her wish for siblings too. But as soon as she thought that, painful memories surfaced, dampening her mood.

As they hiked, the siblings took turns showing her various spear thrusts and strikes. These she found easy to pick up, having mimicked it previously. However, the hand positions, guards, and stances proved more difficult, as she had not recognized what those were during the spear dance last year.

When they broke for lunch, Lexi resumed her lecture, “You’ll note that we have not mentioned anything about our Decks nor asked you anything about yours.” Renalia had noticed but had decided not to ask, embarrassed about her worthless Deck.

“That is because spear fighting, dog commands, and formations—these are all fundamental skills and knowledge that every hunter should know. So all new training starts with these basics. Bear in mind, even though we call them basic skills, they take many years to master.

“In addition, these skills, like quickly transitioning from a thrust to a guard, have saved hunter lives many times. So even though professional hunters rely more on their Decks, we will always start our training with the basics.”

Donaldson took over as Lexi took a bite from her lunch. “Honestly, for someone like you–who didn’t grow up as a hunter–your Deck is probably not geared for this way of life. Hell, even my own first Set wasn’t as useful.

“But as you walk this path, your Deck will grow with you, and your style will change along with it. For me, my Deck excels at fast attacks over short and middle distances. So Killer acts mostly as a nimble distraction.”

“And for me,” Lexi said between bites, “my Deck is about protection and keeping the prey’s focus, allowing others to hit them. In this hunt, I want you to just observe and understand the roles that we play. In future hunts, only one of us will go with you and you will assume the complementary role.”

“If we encounter a bogling this time, that is,” Donaldson sighed.

Seeing the quizzical expression on Renalia’s face, Lexi explained. “There are fewer and fewer boglings lately. Many have even started solo hunting in order to cover more ground.”

“It’s the curse I tell ya. That fire last year, and the bog drying up this year. It’s a pattern,” the brother said.

“Bah, it’s not related to anything.” She looked at Renalia. “You running into two boglings in one trip is nothing short of extraordinary. Must have made Malchim incredibly happy.”

Donaldson laughed. “Yea, happy enough to call in favors and train up a hunter who’s not even his own son.”

Renalia accidentally bit her tongue while chewing a piece of jerky, uncomfortable at the change in topic. “I got a small cut fighting the hare. Do you think the blood attracted the second bogling?”

“Aye, could be.”

“Then why don’t hunters set out baits to lure more boglings?” Renalia asked.

“It may come to that.” Lexi shook her head. “It’s been done in the past but has fallen out of favor. Sometimes too many boglings get lured, you know what I mean? In the good times, it was enough to just play it safe and bag a bogling or two every week.”

They went further into the bog for a couple of hours after lunch, before Lexi called for a return to the village. Their return trip was also uneventful for several hours and the three of them gave up on the idea of catching a bogling. But an hour from the village, Porkchop, ever vigilant, howled at the sky.

 

***

 

I learned many lessons that day, intended and not. Foremost among them was that the secret of success is no secret at all. It takes discipline, practice, and knowledge to excel. Easier said than done, perhaps, but achievable by all.