Hunter

before

First and foremost, I am a hunter. I always have been, and I always will be. My training began when I was four. But even before this, my parents had me take an oath:

“I, Brielle, am a hunter. I willingly submit my life, purpose, and loyalty to the sacred pursuit. I will rid the world of evil and darkness and strive to the fullest extent of my capabilities to honor this oath.”

I am a descendant of the well-known and rightfully feared Ironbloods. We are a large group of hunters, with at least one tribe in each continent. We do not have powers, but we are born with the ability to master any weapon twice as fast as any regular human. For eons, we have been known for hunting the Unbound—scattered, dark-souled criminals who wreak havoc in the most twisted ways imaginable. They’re not just ordinary outlaws. Each one we encounter possesses a dark power that defies the laws of nature. They may look like regular humans, but the second thing I learned was how to spot the difference between a human and an Unbound. This is usually done by looking into their eyes. The Unbound typically have a small fire in their pupils, easily missed by a regular human. However, Ironbloods are trained to see this small feature for their entire lives. 

The Unbound typically reside in smaller cities, and it’s not common to see them outside of these areas. Some of them have powers that can conceal their city, which is how the humans don’t notice that they’re in danger until it’s too late. 

My family never chose to be Ironbloods. My dad was born into the hunt. Even by the time he and my mom got married, he still hadn’t told her about it. It was only after they were already bound together that she found out—and by then, it was too late for her to back out. She was forced to start training much later than normal. Eventually, she forgave him, and the three of us were born. First is me, Brielle. I’m 23 now. Then there’s Dahlia, who’s 19. She’s the smart one of us three, and my best friend. Last, but definitely not least, is Lyra. She’s 14 and eager to prove herself. She’s struggled a bit with the idea of hunting because she has the biggest heart in the world, but she’s definitely improved a lot in the last couple of years.

My parents, Cassian and Elara, are the most kind-hearted, caring people that you could meet. They’ve been the best trainers throughout the years, and they raised three amazing hunters. The last thing I want to do is let them down. 

For us, the Ironbloods, every hunt is a battle, every victory a debt paid to those who came before us. And someday, that debt will fall on my shoulders alone.

Oh, and the first thing I learned? 

Don’t get personal with the Unbound. 

change

It started out as an ordinary day. I was walking through the forest, gathering branches for a fire, when I encountered an Unbound. At first, confusion ran through me. Then, I remembered my duty. 

As a hunter, I always have a weapon of some kind with me. Today, it was my favorite: a crossbow. The Unbound I found looked to be around 30 in human years, maybe a female. I shot her down with two arrows, not really focused on my surroundings. My instincts had been honed for years, and I didn’t stop to think about what I was doing. 

But then I heard it. The cry of a child. 

One other thing we are taught is if an Unbound has a child, we are to run. We are hunters, not monsters. We are not to murder the child’s parents, especially the mother. It’s woven into the fabric of our morals. I once asked my mother what to do if someone ever accidentally murdered a mother, and she said “Then they must kill the child as well. They would hate it and it would tear them apart, but it is what must be done.”

Then, I came back to the present. The child looked to be about two years old, not yet old enough to register for Unbound years. She was sobbing, crouched over her mother’s body, screaming, “Mama! Mama! Wake up, Mama!” She looked up at me, tears running down her face, and ran to me.

“Did you…did you hurt my Mama?” Her voice was tiny, but it felt like the question struck a blow to my chest. 

I fumbled for words. “Um…no, I didn’t…the arrows aren’t mine…” I could barely speak, my throat tightening. How could I tell this child the truth, knowing what I would have to do to her next?

“But…when will she wake up? When will Mama be better?” She looked back at her mother with big, trusting eyes. The hope in her voice made my stomach churn. 

“Um, well you see-” I tried to form a sentence, thinking about what I was going to say, but I was cut off.

“Lil-Lilith? A-are you th-there, baby?” the mother said, struggling to get the words out. 

The toddler immediately ran to her mother’s side, crouching next to her. “Mama? Mama, are you feeling better? Can we go home now?” she asked, a hopeful expression on her freckled face.

“Lilith, I-I’m not going to g-get better. I need you t-to listen, very c-closely. You will get through this. You will be o-okay. Mama l-loves you, ok? I-I love you, forever. You’re my lil Lil. You’ll fi-figure out how to live without m-me. I love you,” the mother struggled to say. Her head lolled to the side, and the hand that the child, Lilith, was holding went limp. 

“NO! MAMA! MAMA! COME BACK!” Lilith’s scream tore through the air, raw and broken. My heart twisted painfully in my chest as her tiny hands, clutching her mother’s limp hand, started shaking.

I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold, unable to move. It was the first time I could feel every inch of an Unbound’s pain, every shred of their loss. This was why my mother said we should never murder a parent. It was too much to bear. Too much for anyone. And yet, it was our job. Our duty.

Guilt, sharp and overwhelming, flooded my chest. I had never felt guilt before—not like this. Not for a kill. But this—this was different.

My fingers fumbled for another arrow from my quiver, my hands shaking as I notched it into the crossbow. I lined up the shot, aiming for her forehead. My breath caught in my throat as I drew back the string. 

I had been trained for this. I had done it before. I was supposed to do it now. 

And yet, the moment I saw her face—screaming for her mother, her tiny body trembling—I couldn’t. My fingers froze around the crossbow, the string still drawn back, but my resolve shattered.

My heart twisted, the weight of it unbearable. I had never hesitated before, never second-guessed my kill. But a child—this innocent—she was different. I couldn’t bring myself to end her life. Not like this. Not when she was pleading for something I couldn’t give.

“Lilith? Would it be okay if we buried your mother?” I asked her gently when her sobs slowed. I figured that since I had already made up my mind, and I wasn’t going to end Lilith’s life, it wouldn’t hurt to make her feel a little bit less horrible. 

Lilith nodded through her tears, kissing her mother’s cheek before standing and coming over to me, stumbling over the uneven tree roots. 

“Go ahead and gather some flowers, alright?” I said softly, my voice barely a whisper, as I began to dig the grave with my knife. She nodded, her small hands trembling as she wandered a few paces away, searching for the first flowers she could find. Her steps were hesitant, as if she didn’t fully understand what was happening, but her actions were slow and deliberate—clutching the delicate blossoms like they could somehow bring her mother back.

After a couple minutes, a decent-sized hole had been dug, and Lilith was back with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Okay, turn around. I’ll tell you when it’s okay to look again,” I couldn’t let her see me carry out our protocol – it wasn’t enough to simply kill an Unbound. We followed strict protocols to ensure the evil was truly gone. 

First, I checked for a pulse—cold, lifeless, with no heartbeat, but I couldn’t trust it completely. 

Next, I pressed my soulstone against the creature’s forehead; it remained still, offering no hum or reaction, confirming the darkness was gone. 

I then made a quick cut near the wrist. Fresh blood flowed cleanly, with no resistance or blackness. 

Finally, I placed a small dried flower over her body after rolling her into the grave as a mark of respect and to signify the end of the hunt. These steps weren’t just tradition; they were necessary to make sure the darkness stayed dead. Then, I hid the cut arm from Lilith. 

“Okay, you’re doing great. You can turn back around now,” I told her. As she slowly turned, I could see the bouquet was now soaked with tears. Another punch to the gut. 

“Is she really gone?” she asked me, her big, innocent eyes looking up at me, so trusting, so sweet. 

“Lilith, I’m so, so sorry. But yes, she is gone. She’s not coming back,” I told her, my heart feeling like it was going to burst with guilt. Lilith’s tears started flowing freely, and she looked back at her mother, and back at me, dropping the bouquet and hugging my legs, starting to sob again. I picked her up and held her, rubbing her back and letting her sob into my shoulder. Her tiny body was shaking so much that she almost fell.

Every instinct in me was telling me, put her down, finish the protocol and get out of there. Except for one tiny voice in the back of my head: what if you raised her? Is it possible to raise Unbound children without sparking their powers? She’s only two, they probably haven’t even started her training yet. Tell your parents she’s a human child. The fiery stare doesn’t appear until they’re 5, and even that has to be provoked.  

“Okay, Lilith, we have to cover her. Do you want to help? It’s okay if you don’t,” I said tenderly when she was breathing normally again. 

She nodded, saying, “I think Mama would want me to help. She’d want me to say bye.” We covered the body with the dirt, and I watched as Lilith spread the flowers over the grave. 

“So, Lilith, what do you want to do now? Do you have a daddy I could bring you to?” I asked her, not sure what to do in this situation. 

“No, my daddy’s gone too. I never knew him. It was just me and Mama.” She started crying again, and I held her as her sobs wracked her small frame. When she calmed down, she asked me, “Can I stay with you? You can be my Mama now?” 

Aaaand, another blow. “Would you really want that? Would you want to stay with me?” I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care anymore. This child…could be mine. I could probably raise her, seeing as I helped raise Lyra. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” That was the final blow for me. 

“Okay, I’m going to take you to a new home, okay? I have two sisters, and I think they would love you. I also have two amazing parents, and they would raise you like their own. They understand how you feel right now, more than me. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah! I’d like that,” Lilith said, her voice shaky but hopeful as she clung to me with a newfound sense of trust.

I gathered her in my arms, my heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility I had just taken on. As we walked away from the grave, I knew our lives were forever changed, and the path ahead would be uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of hope.