Dawn over Ironpeak was a jagged, uncomfortable thing. It brought no warmth, only illuminating the scorched ruin Koa had left behind. The ridge smelled of ozone and burnt pine, a bitter reminder of their sister's lack of restraint.
Lokee knelt in the blackened dirt. Her hands glowed with a soft, pulsing blue light as she worked over a mountain fox. The creature's fur was singed and its breathing was ragged, but beneath Lokee's palms, the water Yan forced the searing heat from its lungs.
Nearby, Hykee handled the heavy lifting. He moved like a bandaged golem, his earth reinforced boots coming down with the weight of a falling mountain. Every thud of his feet sent a rhythmic, violent vibration through the ridge. It was a reminder of the raw force he carried.
"Hurry it up," Kaola called out from above.
She hovered just past the treeline, her wind Yan keeping her steady in the biting air. "The trail is getting louder. I hit a settlement at the base of the ridge. The locals are already talking about a kid with black and white hair.
They're calling him the Bastard of Kalamity. They think he killed his father and the rest of his family. He's barely masking his Yen.
The crops are wilting in his footprint and the livestock are dying. He's poisoning the very path he walks and we're losing time." Hykee let out a sharp and jagged laugh that sounded like grinding stones. He didn't look up as he slammed his foot down on a flare of fire.
The impact reopened a stitch on his thigh. He didn't flinch. He just watched the fresh blood bloom through his white bandages with a grin of reckless eagerness.
"The Bastard of Kalamity!" Hykee barked, wiping soot from his chin. "It's funny they say things like that not knowing the other bastards are alive too. They actually think Kota killed Father. I'm just glad I have something to kill. I can't wait to see if the kid actually fights back this time. I need something that hits hard."
Lokee stood as the fox scurried into the brush. She looked at her brother's blood stained bandages and then up at Kaola.
Her voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that cut through the wind. "We're hunting our own blood, Kaola. Is this what Mother wanted? To spend our lives as cleanup crews and executioners? If we corner him, are we saving the land, or just handing Koma the kill he wants to fix his mistakes?"
"What mistakes, Lokee? The mistake of killing Father?"
Kaola's eyes narrowed. Her jaw tightened in visible annoyance. The noise of her siblings morality was starting to grate on her nerves. As she looked at Lokee, a cold flicker of a memory surfaced.
She remembered standing in the training courtyard at seven years old. Her fingers had bled from the bowstring. She'd refused to eat or rest until every single arrow hit the absolute center of the bullseye.
Her mother had tried to call her inside, but Kaola hadn't even blinked. To her, a single inch of deviation wasn't just a mistake. It was an insult to her existence. She'd built her entire persona on being the Perfect Person. The one who never faltered.
"Either you heal the animals and the townspeople then follow us, or don't, Lokee. I really don't care," Kaola snapped, shaking off the memory. Her voice was clinical.
"The drawback of being perfect is that I don't have room for your hesitation. We were told to find Kota and bring him back. That's what we do. If your conscience is suddenly too heavy, follow Koa's trail and go home. I don't care. But as long as you're on this ridge, you move. Perfectly. And Hykee, you won't be laying a hand on Kota. That isn't your job."
Hykee just laughed again. He punched his open palm, feeling the bandages tighten against his bruised knuckles.
To him, the reason for the hunt didn't matter. He just wanted the collision. Lokee didn't flinch, but the doubt in her eyes didn't fade. She looked south toward the purple haze of the Yen sickness beginning to choke the valley. She knew the mission, but for the first time, she was not sure if the mission was right.