2.

  Joseph, Bruce, and the other hunters made their way across the dark desert landscape to a patch of huts belonging to a long-ignored and left-alone Indian tribe. The natives they would be meeting were of the Mowak tribe. This tribe had likely been hunting demons in these great lands since even before the first recorded demon war nigh a thousand years ago. And their wars were just as much secret and legend as the wars first fought over the holy lands halfway around the world.

  The tribe’s warriors were all in their native wear, sitting in a circle around a bonfire. The Chieftain with his great feather headdress and war paint sat at the head of the circle and stood to greet their guests.

  Bruce led the hunters to the circle, and he gave the chieftain a nod, “Chief Blackarrow, your welcome honors us,” he said, taking a knee. The other hunters joined in the courtesy. Joseph last.

  Chief Blackarrow rose, “You come here to fight the great fire, you are welcomed guests in these lands,” he said, his voice low, and raspy, but commanding great respect from the Hunters and the circle of warriors. He reached into a pouch on his waist and threw some kind of dust onto the fire. The flames rose nearly five feet in the air, Joseph and some of the hunters jumped back, but the warriors around the fire stayed totally still and stoic.

  “These white men come to fight Great Fire, pay them the blessings of our ancestors,” he pulled a long shaft from his belt and held the bowl at the end of it over the fire, “To bless you through the great fire, we smoke from the peace pipe of our ancestors,”

  The Hunters all took a seat cross-legged around the fire with the warriors. Bruce, the leader of the hunting party, spoke with honesty, “We thank you for the blessing, we will fight to keep your lands safe from this great fire,” he said as the chief took the first puff of the pipe. He blew out a cloud of smoke and passed the pipe to Bruce. Bruce followed suit and took a hit off it, then passed it to Joseph.

  “Hey, I like to party,” Joseph said, taking the pipe.

  “Show some respect,” Bruce hissed, “This is sacred, this is to bring us blessing on the other side of the gate,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Joseph turned to the chief, “We thank you for your blessing,” he said before taking a puff, coughing a bit on the rough smoke that filled his lungs before passing the pipe to the warrior sitting next to him.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “We have protected these lands from Great Fire since before the times of our fathers or their fathers, In youth, I have fought Great Fire myself, I have seen he who dwells in the flames with my own eyes, I have seen the snake of the river of fire, I have seen his hound and his warriors, He is who your people call the Star of the Morning, and none can kill him, not forever,” Chief Blackarrow reached for another handful of dust, tossing it in the roaring flames again.

  “Many men over many years have come to fight Great Fire, and many men have died, there is a warning the spirits told me of your clan of warriors,” he said.

  “Anything you could tell us would be helpful,” Bruce said, “We will fight the Great Fire, we will fight to keep your people and lands safe,” he said.

  “You are noble, all of you, but among is one who will be called the Betrayer, he will betray, but he is no less noble than any of you sitting here,” he said.

  Bruce looked around at the hunters he had brought to this sacred fire circle, and for a moment his eyes landed on Joseph.

  Joseph noticed his and pursed his eyebrows, “What are you looking at me for?” he asked, “Got something to say, Longdren?” he asked.

  “I’m not saying anything,” Bruce said, shaking his suspicion and turning back to the chief. “Can you bring us to this Great Fire, that we may enter it and fight against it, our people have been fighting the Great Fire, maybe as long as yours have, our people tell the same stories you do, stories of this Great Fire and the Star of the Morning,” Bruce said.

  “Our ancestors bless all who take sharpened stone against Great Fire, you are protected by the spirits, but do not think that the only protection you need, you must fight together, struggle together, together hunters in Great Fire strong, apart you are weak,” he said, “Spirits say one of your tribe will be weaker than others, you must be vigilant if you are to take on the hunt that Great Fire demands,” he said.

  “We will,” Bruce said, “You know these lands, you know what Great Fire threatens it with, is there a dog? Is this where we fight the Star of the Morning?”

  “The hound does live below this ground, lives in the great fire, a mighty hunter will be needed to fight it, many mighty hunters,” he said, “The Star of the Morning, the Chief of Great Fire is here, you may find crossing stone with him in your quest but know that he is everywhere. He is not of the flesh, but he is of feeling, he is the darkness in the hearts of all men, warrior or not. If you tempt him into war, you must be willing to fight to your last warrior,” he said. “The Star of Morning, if seeing defeat, may offer temptation to you, you must refuse any pleasures or gifts he offers, for he will trick you,” Chief Blackarrow threw another batch of dust into the fire.

  “Our people tell the same story, of the Star of the Morning, we are Hunters, we will not fall to mere temptation,” Bruce said.

  The Pipe had made its way around the circle, enjoyed by the native warriors and visiting hunters alike, “The Circle is complete, you are welcomed to take this hunt as members of our tribe,” the Chief held the bowl over the fire and took another puff. “May the ancestors smile on your hunt, and if you cannot quell it, may you push Great Fire back for many moons,” the Chief bowed his head.

  “We’ll try,” Bruce said, “Thank you, Chief Blackarrow.”