Chapter 19
Gun was running late. He'd stayed talking to his brother too long and now the assassins and hunters were ahead of him. He was hungry and his feet hurt. The second sun was already beginning to rise. Still he pushed himself, he had to get to the first path. He had to intervene or lose this timeline completely. The veins on his arms rose to the surface of his skin, bright red. He ignored them and pressed forward.
The smell of salt trickled through the east wind and Gun changed direction. If he could smell their sweat, then there had to be a large grouping. He climbed the nearest tree and continued jumping forward branch to branch. He was getting closer. Looking down and around Gun spotted a group of hunters dressed in thick leather. They were running at a much slower pace than he was. Perfect.
Their leather armour was too bulky and their weapons looked to be forged from cheap and brittle metal. They traveled in a lumbering formation. He counted about twenty-three hunters in total. They were probably from a nearby Imperial state. From the judge of their guild crests, Gun guessed Quirguyan. A land made of nothing but forests and blacksmiths.
Taking a deep breath, Gun felt his nostrils flare at the smell of sweat and person. His stomach tightened and he exhaled. His nail beds hurt, but Gun refused the impulsive reflex to stretch his fingers. Instead, he reached for a stiletto and extended his arm out, the tiny piece of pointed steal and flew right into the lead hunter's ankle. She hit the ground and rolled under the feet of her comrades. They trampled her in their failed attempts to stop. It was still too dark for them to see, so they all scrambled to find a tree to hide by. Night-blindness was an issue that Gun and his siblings rarely experienced. He popped his neck loudly and watched the three hunters closest to him jump back drawing their weapons.
Filling the gaps of his hands with needles Gun let them land in the necks, ears, and eyes of his victims. They began screaming and trying to pull the needles out. Little did they know those particular needles were barbed and pulling on them would only cause them to dig deeper. Gun left the remaining hunter alone to tend to his friends. That would keep him busy for a majority of this fight.
Another group huddle together, back to back, their leather carcas shields creating an impenetrable barrier around them. Two more shields covered the top, but left two narrow gaps on each side of their formation. Climbing another tree, Gun found the best spot to stand to do what he needed to do. Grabbing a young tree branch he pulled back with his legs until the branch wanted to cave under the tension. Yanking his fee to his chest, Gun let the branch fling him downward. He pointed his toes and crossed his arms over his chest as he slid into the gap of the leather locked shields. Grabbing their hip knives, he climbed between their bodies while slicing all of their major arteries. He counted 9 bodies before he threw the leather shell made of their shields off of him.
Gun paused after accidentally smearing his face with blood while wiping sweat off his lip. His tongue ran over his top lip and darted back into his mouth and he exhaled. His stomach jumped into his chest and for a moment Gun could see red. There was blood everywhere and dead bodies for the taking.
Shaking his head, Gun reached for another stiletto, but he was out. They must have fallen out when he rolled with Quon. Cursing, Gun removed his satchel and swiped a knife from the forest floor. How could he forget to check his sleeves and pockets after falling roughly?
Screaming in frustration, Gun reached down and grabbed another cheap knife. He felt his heartbeat in his neck and the air sharp in his lungs. It had been over fifteen years since the last time he could kill like this. Takturn was his offering from the kingdoms. They wanted his skills and knowledge, but feared having him loose in the waters. Had it not been for his good friend Titen, they would have never stopped him and Gun would have been the first successful pirate king. For five years Gun had rotted away in an underground prison. They had him suspended from the ceiling in chains, spoon fed shitty broth with oats soaked in it. After the fall of Titen, Gun had been brought back to the surface. The rich and elite no longer had a pawn to teach and protect their brats. He was offered a strict freedom on Takturn. And that night was the first night Gun had seen Alora.
"Now!" A hunter screamed and Gun reached out so quickly his hand broke through his enemies ribcage. Grabbing the heart that rested underneath bone, Gun pulled. He really hated being interrupted while reminiscing. Biting into the warm heart like an apple, Gun turned on the remaining eleven hunters. They ran away for all they were worth. None of them stayed together. They just ran away in terror. He could see that there was no possibility of them turning around. They all would rather die than face him.
Gun finished the heart in his hand. The sound of someone whimpering and moving over fresh leaves caught his ears. Right. He had forgotten about their leader. She was easy to track. Crawling to her weapon, she had left a thick trail of blood behind. Stepping on her back, Gun let his hand shoot through and he pulled out his last human snack for a long time. There was no delicacy like a fresh human heart.
He finished up and grabbed his satchel preparing for another hard run. If he ran at full speed and shifted with the direction of time Gun could make it to the monastery in almost 9 hours. He hopped from foot to foot preparing his body for the limit it was about to push.
The second sun peeked over the horizon. The forest around Gun were suddenly became tinted in yellow. If the second sun was rising then he had spent another five hours of time, but at least he'd reached the first marker. No longer so hungry that he wanted to claw his stomach out, Gun managed to maintain a quick pace.
There were things he didn't like about the current timeline. Everything seemed to happen all at once, but each event stood alone as a marker to the end result: A Great War. No, not a Great War - The Great War. The biggest war this planet had yet to experience and would ever experience. At times it was too much for Gun to process and he'd end up with a migraine for days if not weeks. Sometimes his nose would begin bleeding if a key person suddenly changed their course of direction. An event that was happening more and more frequently. So frequently that Gun stated doing what he was doing now - forcing the events of the future to happen himself.
Originally, it was Titen that had killed the group of hired hunters and returned Felicias to Takturn. Then it was Retribution Moore that stopped Brother Iwen's assassination. But Titen had been rejected by his ancestors and flung off a cliff by the fates. Gun had been stressed about this sudden change and shift, for a few hours it had resulted in raising of the entire commons. A genocide so large and widespread that it changed Kudan's fresh water to blood for several years. That's when Gun had decided it was time to step in and do something. Anything. He had been trapped in that timeline for only a few hours during his sleep, but it had felt like an eternity. He was forced to watch Alora fight for her and her children's lives and lose. He saw his own crucifixion. It had been one of the most traumatic timeline's he'd ever been damned enough to see.
That's why he was running through the thickest forest on the continent and pushing everything back to its course. His own humanity be damned. His deal with his mother be damned. As it was The Witch of The North had been making subtle moves here and there waiting for Gun to interfere. That old bitch would have broken their pact regardless.
Gun stopped to catch his breath. He had reached the halfway point. Taking a deep breath he searched for Alora. She'd read his note and saved it, deciding nothing. Gun searched further in the future, Gus was still set to be born in a years time. Satisfied, Gun crouched low to the ground and launched himself back into the direction of the monastery.
For a moment he was blinded by the fates and tumbled down from the trees and into the brush. Brother Iwen's assassination had been averted. By whom or what, Gun didn't know, nor did he care to look. If necessary, he would check later. For now, Gun needed to get to the Monastery and he was still about three hours away. His shoulder ached from falling wrong onto the ground. Resting on his weight on his knees, Gun reached into his satchel and dug around until he found a pair of onyx dangle earrings. He switched them out with the ones he was already wearing. The onyx stones would prevent the fates from interrupting him until he removed those earrings. It was risky, with their timeline being so fragile, but the risk was needed so he could make it to his destination alive.
Gun adjusted his left shoulder and was disappointed to realize that his arm had dislocated during his fall. Trying to hold it the best he could, Gun slammed his arm back in using a tree trunk and bit back a string of curses.
Woozy, he double checked his things, making sure his last few stilettos were still in their places. Once everything was accounted for, Gun fixed his direction and tried to return to his previous pace. He veered a bit and had to slow his footing. His shoulder was screaming in pain. His back hurt and his feet were blistered. He was too close to turn back now. Shaking off his exhaustion, Gun took a few deep breaths before jogging on the forest floor to his destination.
He'd made it nearly 2 leagues when Gun lost his footing and slipped down the narrow bank on his left. He caught himself on a low hanging branch before dropping off the cliff and into a rushing ravine.
Gun's vision began to blur and shift quickly. His future had changed. He watched an image of his body falling into the ravine and getting sucked under the tide until the river disappeared into the mountain side. It dragged his body deep into the core of the mountain range pocketing only once or twice.
His visions split several times at that point. In some instances he failed to inhale enough air at those points and drowned. In other instances he inhaled enough and was pulled back under, the river releasing him at a waterfall on the other side of the monastery. It would get him there hours before dawn, with time enough to rest.
Understanding where his new path lay, Gun waited until his vision cleared back into the present. He took several deep breaths, inhaling until his stomach expanded and stretched. Knowing this would be an adventure Alora would enjoy the retelling of Gun releasing his hold on the branch and he curled his body into a ball before breaking the water's surface. Swimming with the current to get to the surface, Gun inhaled several breaths as evenly as he could as the current approached a very large and jagged mountain side. Holding the image of his true future in his mind, Gun took in as much air as he could before the current sucked him down and under.