CHAPTER 46: HUNTING WITH LISA AND RILEY

The afternoon morning air felt refreshing against my damp skin as I stepped out of the shower, droplets still clinging to my shoulders. Steam rose from my body as I moved toward the carefully arranged hunting gear I’d laid out the night before—a ritual that had become as natural as breathing over the years.

My hunter’s outfit was something I took genuine pride in. The leather pants hugged my legs perfectly, crafted from supple dark brown hide that had aged to a rich patina. The matching chest piece was a work of art in its own right—reinforced with strips of black leather that formed patterns across the torso, each piece hand-stitched with the precision that only years of practice could achieve. The sturdy boots, the only part I hadn’t made myself, completed the ensemble with their worn but reliable soles that had carried me through countless hunts.

Running my fingers along the seams as I dressed, I couldn’t help but smile. Every stitch told a story of late nights by candlelight.

Over the years, I had become exceptionally good at sewing.

Reaching a level that rivalled even the old Martha. The assimilation power certainly helped—I could feel the knowledge settling into my muscles, making each movement more precise, more intuitive.

The same skill had allowed me to craft outfits for Lisa and Riley. Lisa’s had been a labor of love, every curve and line tailored to complement her natural grace. Riley’s... well, Riley’s had been more of a necessity after he’d started insisting on joining our hunting expeditions.

I picked up my bow, running my thumb along the smooth wood. The same bow Lisa had gifted me years ago, its string replaced countless times but the frame as solid as ever. The knife at my hip was also the one she gifted me and still the one I was using.

Stepping outside, I breathed in the warm air.

Isabella was at her workshop by the way. No longer the cramped hut she’d worked in for years, but a proper stone building I’d constructed for her the previous summer. Using magic for construction had felt almost like cheating, but watching her face light up when she saw the spacious interior, complete with proper ventilation for her herb work and shelving that could hold ten times her previous inventory, had made every moment of effort worthwhile.

What wouldn’t I do for my lovely mom?

The sound of voices drew my attention toward the village outskirts. Lisa and Riley stood near the forest edge, their heads bent together in conversation. Even from a distance, I could see how comfortable they’d become with each other over the past two years. Lisa had taken both Riley and his younger sister Zoey under her wing after their parents’ passing, and the arrangement had worked beautifully for everyone involved. Riley had someone to look up to, Zoey had gained the older sister she’d never had, and Lisa’s house no longer echoed with the loneliness that had once haunted her evenings after Martha’s death.

The only downside, from my perspective, was that Riley had developed an unfortunate habit of appearing whenever Lisa and I might have enjoyed some private conversation. Like now, for instance, when his presence meant our hunt day would be chaperoned by an enthusiastic but still inexperienced archer who seemed determined to prove himself worthy of our company.

Not that I could entirely blame him. Zoey had found her place in the village economy, her nimble fingers producing embroidered goods that sold well in the market. Riley, watching his younger sister contribute to their household while he remained dependent on Lisa’s generosity, had naturally sought his own way to be useful. Hunting was the obvious choice, and despite my occasional irritation at the interruption of my time alone with Lisa, I had to admit he was making progress.

"Harold." Lisa greeted me with a smile right after noticing me.

My breath caught slightly, as it still did whenever I really looked at her. At nineteen, Lisa had grown into the kind of beauty that made travelers do double-takes when they passed through our village. Her long dark brown hair was pulled back in a practical ponytail that somehow managed to look elegant, and those blue eyes—God, those eyes—seemed to hold depths I was still discovering. The small beauty mark near the corner of her eye only added to her allure, a tiny imperfection that somehow made the rest of her face even more captivating.

She was perfect and she was mine.

"Lisa," I replied.

"We should get moving," she said, adjusting the strap of her quiver. "We’re running a bit behind schedule, and if we want to make it to the deeper parts of the forest and back before sunset, we need to leave now."

I glanced meaningfully at Riley, who was still fussing with his bowstring. "Well, the only thing likely to slow us down is our eager apprentice here."

Riley’s head snapped up, his face flushing red. "I’ll keep up! I’ve been practicing every day!"

"Harold," Lisa chided me. "Don’t be so hard on him."

I couldn’t resist pushing a little further. "When I was ten, I’d been hunting for a year and could already hit moving targets consistently."

"That’s because you’re some kind of all talented monster," Lisa laughed. "Not everyone can be a complete monster with a bow like you are."

"Monster?" I placed a hand over my heart in mock offense. "That’s harsh, even from you."

Lisa giggled. "I’m just being honest. You know it’s true."

"Would you two please stop flirting?" Riley interrupted, his voice cracking slightly with embarrassment. "We haven’t even left the village yet!"

The complaint was fair.

Still, there would be other opportunities. There always were.

We made our way into the forest, following paths that had become as familiar as the streets of our village.

This deeper part of the forest was territory that Lisa and I had only begun exploring in recent months. Tom, the village’s official hunter, rarely ventured this far—his responsibilities kept him busy training the constant stream of would-be hunters who sought his instruction, and the safer, well-mapped hunting grounds near the village provided plenty of game for his students to practice on.

But Lisa and I had outgrown the need for such caution. Our skills had developed to the point where few creatures in these woods posed a real threat, and the deeper forest offered both better hunting and the privacy we both craved. We’d encountered dangerous beasts on several occasions, but each time we’d proven more than capable of handling whatever challenge presented itself.

"There!" Riley whispered urgently, pointing toward a cluster of bushes. "A rabbit!"

I saw it immediately—a plump brown rabbit, perfectly positioned for a clean shot. Without conscious thought, I drew and released, the arrow flying true to pierce the creature’s heart in a single fluid motion. The rabbit dropped without a sound, killed so quickly it likely felt nothing.

Riley stood frozen, his own bow half-drawn, staring at me with wide eyes. I lowered my weapon with casual ease, offering him a small smile.

Before he could respond, Lisa’s bowstring sang. Her arrow punched through a tree trunk with such force that it left a hole the size of a coin, continuing on to strike a deer that had been grazing some thirty yards beyond. The deer collapsed instantly, felled by a shot that most hunters would have considered impossible.

Riley’s mouth hung open. From his perspective, what we’d just done probably seemed like magic—two impossible shots executed with the kind of casual precision that spoke of abilities far beyond his current comprehension.

"When..." He began. "When will I ever be that good?"

I considered the question seriously. Riley had talent, there was no denying that, but talent alone wasn’t enough. Lisa and I were exceptional, our natural abilities honed by years of dedicated practice and, in my case, enhanced by powers that made learning accelerated and retention perfect.

"Ten years," I said finally. "Maybe nine if you really dedicate yourself to it."

"Ten years?" He repeated, his voice small.

"Possibly less," Lisa said. "But Harold’s right," Lisa added gently, moving past us to collect her kill. "We’re not exactly normal examples to measure yourself against."

She wasn’t arrogant but just being honest.

She hefted the rabbit into her game bag, then gestured toward the deeper forest. "Come on, boys. The day’s still young, and we have quotas to meet."

Truth be told, hunting had evolved into something of a pleasant hobby for Lisa and me rather than the necessity it had once been.

Money had ceased to be a concern some time ago. Between my hunting income, the growing reputation of my tailored leather goods, and me working with Isabella in brewing and selling herbal concoctions, I’d accumulated more wealth than most villagers saw in a lifetime. The three streams of revenue had proven surprisingly lucrative—hunters from neighboring villages sought out my custom gear, Isabella’s potions had gained renown throughout the region, and fresh game always commanded good prices at market.

I was, by village standards, remarkably well-off. But it would never be enough.

Not for what I had planned.

The capital beckoned like a distant star, promising opportunities that Millbrook could never provide. I’d already done the calculations a dozen times over—a proper estate in the capital district, large enough for myself, mom, and my sister, would cost more than most nobles spent in a year. The Academy fees alone would drain a significant portion of my savings. But I didn’t care about the expense. Every coin I earned here was another step closer to the life I envisioned, the life I was determined to build.

The money I’d accumulated would provide a solid foundation for my future in the capital, but after that? After that, it would be up to me to make the most of every precious moment, every opportunity that presented itself.

After a couple of hours of productive hunting, we made our way to the clearing that Lisa and I had gradually transformed into our private retreat. Over the years, we’d cleared away the undergrowth, arranged stones for a proper fire pit, and I’d even constructed a series of log benches that turned the space into something resembling an outdoor sitting room.

The three of us settled onto the benches I’d crafted, the worn wood smooth beneath us from countless afternoons spent in this exact configuration. I pulled out my hunting knife, its blade slick with the blood of our morning’s work, and began the methodical process of cleaning and sharpening it.

The familiar ritual was soothing—drawing the whetstone along the steel in long, practiced strokes, wiping away the residue, testing the edge against my thumb. I’d long since learned the value of maintaining my equipment properly. There was no point in dragging bloody, dull tools back to the village when I could handle the maintenance here, in the peaceful quiet of the forest.

"Is it true that you’re leaving for the capital, Harold?"

Riley’s question cut through the comfortable silence. I looked up from my knife work to find him watching me intently, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

"Yes," I replied. "Right after my birthday next week, actually. You’re invited to the celebration, by the way."

Riley’s return smile was clearly forced, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. There was a sadness there, a disappointment that spoke to something deeper than simple regret at a friend’s departure. Over the past year, I’d noticed the way he watched me, the careful attention he paid to my techniques, my decisions, my approach to problems. I’d become something of a model for him, I realized—an example of what he might become if he worked hard enough, dedicated himself completely.

The realization that his ideal was about to disappear from his life entirely must have been quite painful for him.

"When will you be back?" The question came out smaller than he’d probably intended.

I set down my whetstone, considering my words. "The Academy program is comprehensive—magic, politics, economics, history, combat theory. I’ll be immersed in studies for one or two years. I don’t expect I’ll be able to visit the village very often."

"Then take us with you!" The words burst out of him as he leaped to his feet, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "We could—I mean, Zoey and I, we could—"

I couldn’t help but laugh, though I tried to keep it gentle. "For what purpose, Riley? The capital isn’t like Millbrook. It’s expensive, competitive, dangerous in ways you can’t imagine. What would you do there?"

Riley’s face flushed red, whether from embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t tell. Without another word, he turned and stalked away from our little clearing, disappearing into the trees.

"Riley," Lisa called after him.

"I’m just going to look around," came his muffled reply from somewhere among the branches. "I’ll be back."

As his footsteps faded into the forest sounds, Lisa turned to face me fully. The expression on her face made my chest tighten—there was a sadness there that went far deeper than concern for Riley’s hurt feelings.

She had been among the first to know about my plans for the capital, perhaps the very first person I’d trusted with my ambitions. I’d even asked her to come with me, painting pictures of the life we could build together in the bustling metropolis. But she’d refused, her roots in Millbrook running too deep to abandon. And now, with Riley and Zoey depending on her, she had even more reasons to stay.

But something had changed since those early conversations. I could see it in the way she looked at me now, in the careful way she held herself, as if she were already preparing for the distance that would soon separate us.

When I’d returned from my week-long trip to the capital—the business with Arlos had taken longer than expected—she’d thrown herself into my arms with such desperate intensity that it had taken me by surprise. That had been only a week’s separation. The Academy would keep me much longer away from her.