Little Pink Starfish

They entered the forest, escorted by the priests. As dawn slowly broke, sunlight began to scatter the cool mist lingering in the woods. Birds chirped from the treetops, and the underbrush rustled with whatever creatures passed through.

Nyne perked up his ears and looked around, but since they were still at the forest’s edge, nothing was in sight. Even the narrow path that had led them here disappeared not long after they walked further in. It was, in every way, the perfect kind of forest to get lost in.

He briefly imagined himself skillfully capturing a wild beast, but even to him, it felt like a far-fetched fantasy. As he walked with soft steps, Nyne suddenly realized—aside from the sound of his own footsteps, there was nothing else. Glancing around at the warrior priests, Iyu quietly asked,

“Sha, do you need anything?”

Nyne shook his head and turned his gaze to Amon. The god was staring somewhere deep into the forest but immediately turned when he felt Nyne’s gaze. Nyne smiled awkwardly as if to say, “It’s nothing,” but sighed inwardly.

Amon and the warrior priests weren’t even making the sound of breathing, let alone footsteps. If he closed his eyes, it would feel like he was walking alone.

“Am I the one scaring all the animals away with my footsteps?”

Trying to quiet his steps, Nyne noticed a bird chirping on a branch. As he stopped walking, Iyu, always quick to pick up on such moments, handed him a bow and an arrow. Swallowing dryly, Nyne nocked the arrow.

As he pulled the bowstring with all his strength, it made a bzzt sound. Worried the bird might flee at the noise, he held still—but the bird kept chirping, unaware. He released. Perhaps because of nerves, the arrow sliced through the air, missing its mark and snapping a branch instead. The startled bird fluttered away.

Nyne’s shoulders drooped. Awkwardly, he muttered toward Amon, who had been silently watching him.

“…It seems hunting might suit my tastes, but not my talent.”

Amon glanced briefly at the broken branch and replied with an unreadable expression,

“It does seem it doesn’t suit your talent. But it’s fine.”

“Th… Thank you…”

Amon’s blunt honesty only sank Nyne’s shoulders lower. It must be clear to Amon and the warrior priests that he had no talent. Nyne recalled the day he practiced archery and realized the compliments he’d heard back then were nothing but flattery. Why was I smiling proudly back then…?

“You almost hit it, Sha,” Iyu whispered in encouragement, but it only made Nyne more embarrassed.

After that, he spotted three more birds. He grazed the wings of two, and finally managed to bring one down. Just as the bird fell, one of the warrior priests quickly caught it and knelt before Nyne, offering it.

Nyne silently looked at the bird, arrow embedded in its wing, gasping for breath. Reaching out, he grasped the soft neck and, without hesitation, swiftly snapped it. Frowning slightly, he stared at his own hand.

He had always turned away when animals were slaughtered for sacrifice, but this… he felt nothing. Was it because he had become accustomed to seeing animals killed daily for meals, as Amon had said? But then, he recalled how he nearly gagged watching the deer sacrifice yesterday. So maybe not.

What truly unsettled him was how familiar the sensation of killing had felt.

Still staring at the dead bird, Nyne was interrupted by a respectful voice:

“Sha, shall we take care of the final blow from now on?”

“…No. It’s fine.”

Opening and closing his hand, Nyne resumed walking. Deep in thought, he reached a conclusion: finishing off a hunted animal quickly to minimize suffering—that, he could accept. Imagining eating it didn’t bother him either.

What truly troubled him were rituals, altars, and sacrifices. These were what filled him with discomfort.

“Ah!”

Nyne stumbled and cried out suddenly. Fortunately, Iyu had been watching closely and caught him before he fell.

“My apologies, Sha.”

Though it was Nyne who had tripped, the priest was the one apologizing. Nyne nodded that he was fine. Though the forest ground was flat, it was still full of bumps and roots. It was the perfect terrain for tripping while scanning for prey.

Glancing anxiously at the game bag, he saw only one was filled. And even that held just a single bird—so light, it felt empty. Sighing, Nyne lifted his gaze and met Amon’s. Awkward, he forced a smile.

“I’d like to catch something bigger… but all I see are birds.”

As a Sha, he couldn’t exactly return with only a bird. Forget wild beasts—even a deer would be better. Anything bigger than a bird, at least.

“Nyne, come here.”

Amon beckoned him closer. Nyne approached without much thought—only for Amon to suddenly lift him into his arms. As he stiffened in surprise, Amon leapt.

Nyne barely held back a scream. The wind roared past as his hair whipped wildly. The forest spread below them like an undulating sea—and then they dove into it. Though he trusted Amon wouldn’t drop him, instinct made him cling tight.

How many times did they soar up and fall again like that? When they finally stopped, Nyne opened his eyes at the light tapping on his cheek.

They were at the very top of a tall tree. Below lay the vast forest, above a wide-open sky. His heart pounded at the incredible view. Gasping, Nyne looked up—Amon was watching him from up close.

Leaves rustled in the wind. The black hair against the cold blue sky brushed Nyne’s cheek like a curtain. Sunlight shattered like golden shards in Amon’s eyes.

“Nyne, look there,” Amon whispered.

Steadying himself, Nyne turned his gaze. The height made his legs tremble. He reflexively squeezed his eyes shut when he saw his calves buried in leaves—but he forced himself to open them again, remembering Amon’s firm hold.

Where Amon pointed, a black leopard lay under a nearby tree, basking in the shade. Nyne’s eyes widened. He wanted something bigger—but not that big.

Amon handed him his own bow and an arrow. Nyne awkwardly aimed at the beast, then shook his head.

“Amon, that’s far too big for me…”

No matter how hard he shot, it wouldn’t kill such a creature in one shot. And Iyu had said leopards could climb trees expertly. Even if he wouldn’t be harmed with Amon around, just imagining the leopard growling and climbing up was dizzying.

“In that case, I’ll help you.”

Amon adjusted his hold on Nyne and placed his hand over his, guiding the bow and string. Amon’s scorching heat seeped through their joined hands. Where Nyne had struggled to draw the bow before, it now bent easily under Amon’s fingers.

“Now, aim.”

Nyne, as if entranced, moved the arrow tip. It pointed directly at the leopard’s nape. When the aim was set, he released.

Ping! The metal tip sliced the air. The arrow pierced the leopard’s neck with precision.

The beast roared, rearing in shock, but staggered after a few steps and collapsed. It groaned a few times, then fell still.

With the leopard down, Amon leapt from the tree, still holding Nyne. When they landed, the thud echoed—but somehow, Nyne felt no shock at all.

He stepped forward, unsteady. In his hand, Amon had placed a dagger.

Kneeling beside the fallen leopard, Nyne quickly drove the dagger in, ending its life. He knew the greatest mercy for a hunted beast was to minimize its suffering. The dagger cut through the hide and sank into the flesh—blood splashed up.

Amon reached out to shield Nyne’s face, but his robe soaked up the blood.