Hunter Academy: Revenge of the Weakest

With a nod, we turned our attention back to the breakfast preparations. The table was soon adorned with a simple yet hearty meal – scrambled eggs, fresh vegetables, and a wedge of aged cheese. The aroma of the food filled the air, inviting us to partake in the familiar ritual of breaking bread together.

As we sat down to eat, Estelle\'s demeanor shifted with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her tone took on an animated quality as she delved into the intricacies of village life, sharing tidbits of gossip that she had likely gathered from her interactions as the village shaman.

"So, you won\'t believe what happened yesterday," Estelle began, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You know the wife of the village chief? The one who always tries to order me around as if I\'m at her beck and call?"

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect of village drama. "What did she do this time?"

Estelle leaned in slightly as if sharing a well-guarded secret. "Well, she was at it again, complaining about some trivial matter and insisting that I perform a ceremony to bring good fortune to her family. As if I have nothing better to do!"

I couldn\'t help but chuckle at Estelle\'s animated storytelling. "And what did you say to her?"

With a playful smirk, she replied, "Oh, you know me. I \'politely\' reminded her that my abilities as a shaman are meant for genuine spiritual needs, not for personal whims. But she\'s persistent, that one."

We both shared a knowing look, acknowledging the sometimes challenging dynamics that came with Estelle\'s role in the village. Her position as the shaman made her a sought-after figure, and not everyone approached her with sincerity.

Estelle continued her tales, sharing anecdotes about various villagers and their quirks. From young couples seeking love potions to the elderly seeking remedies for aches and pains, her stories painted a vivid picture of the diverse characters that populated their small community.

Amid the laughter and jest, Estelle\'s gossip served not only as entertainment but also as a way for her to vent the frustrations that came with her responsibilities.

In these moments, her animated storytelling became a form of catharsis, allowing her to navigate the intricacies of village life with a touch of humor and resilience.

But that didn\'t mean she was free from my words. After reading books all the time and thinking about how I would act in certain situations while imagining those scenarios, I thought I became good with my words.

"Estelle, isn\'t it against the shaman\'s code to indulge in gossip?" I teased, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Where did the girl who said \'helping others is my desire\' go?"

Estelle chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she met my playful gaze. "Oh, Astron, you always have a way of catching me, don\'t you? But in my defense, helping others doesn\'t mean I can\'t enjoy a good gossip session now and then. It\'s like a guilty pleasure."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. "Guilty pleasure, you say? I thought the spirits would disapprove of such indulgences."

She leaned back, adopting an air of mock seriousness. "Ah, but you see, the spirits understand the importance of laughter and camaraderie. Gossip is just another form of community bonding, a way for me to connect with the villagers on a different level."

I couldn\'t help but laugh at her clever response. It seemed Estelle had a knack for turning any situation into a light-hearted banter. "Well, as long as the spirits are okay with it, who am I to argue?"

"Of course. But that is also the reason why you are so stiff all the time?"

"Who are you calling stiff?"

"You, mister, all serious."

"I am not serious all the time."

"Do you never look in the mirror?"

Intrigued by Estelle\'s comment, I couldn\'t resist the urge to check my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the kitchen wall. As I gazed at my own face, I couldn\'t deny the truth in her words. There was a subtle seriousness etched into my features, a reflection of the responsibilities and questions that often occupied my mind.

Estelle, witnessing my contemplative expression, couldn\'t contain her triumphant smile. "Caught you, didn\'t I? Mr. Serious Astron, always pondering the mysteries of life."

"For you to keep that smile all the time, you need a way to vent, huh?" I remarked, raising an eyebrow in mock seriousness.

Estelle grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Exactly, dear brother. A little gossip keeps the spirits entertained, and it helps me keep my sanity."

I shook my head, unable to suppress a grin. "Maybe I do need to lighten up a bit. The spirits wouldn\'t mind, right?"

She laughed a melodic sound that echoed through the room. "Not at all! In fact, they might appreciate the change. A little mischief never hurts anyone."

As we continued our banter, I couldn\'t help but appreciate the way Estelle effortlessly brought a lighthearted touch to my world. It was a reminder that amidst the responsibilities and ponderings, there was room for laughter and companionship.

********

"Then, have a nice day, brother."

"You too."

As Estelle left the home, I was left alone right before the empty house as I looked around.

"That was a bit refreshing, wasn\'t it?"

I mumbled. Having conversations like this tended to calm my heart whenever I felt uncomfortable.

SWOOSH! At that moment, the cold wind brushed against my face, a stark reminder that winter was approaching. I shivered involuntarily, the chill penetrating my bones. A quick glance at the changing landscape outside affirmed the inevitability of the season.

"Winter is coming," I muttered to myself, a claim echoed by the desaturated colors of the surroundings.

The village would soon be covered in a blanket of snow, transforming familiar paths into a serene, white landscape.

With a purposeful sigh, I decided to return to the warmth of the kitchen. The breakfast dishes awaited, and the kitchen needed tidying.

As I washed the dishes and cleaned the remnants of our morning meal, my mind drifted to the upcoming tasks.

I didn\'t know when it began, but from some point in my life, I always felt like I became a cleaning and order maniac.

\'Was I like this before?\'

I wondered to myself, but I couldn\'t answer the question. Sometimes, even my own actions didn\'t feel like they were completely mine, but I couldn\'t explain why.

The kitchen being now pristine, I gradually ascended through the modest house.

Each step echoed a sense of routine, a daily ritual that brought order to the quiet spaces we called home.

\'The stairs are quite dirty.\'

My eyes picked up the details on the corner of the stairs, as well as many other things, and my desire to fix them surfaced immediately.

Without much thought, I found myself retrieving a cloth from a nearby cabinet, determined to address the overlooked cleanliness.

As I wiped away the accumulated dust, my gaze lingered on the intricacies of the wooden banister. The grain, once hidden beneath the layer of neglect, revealed its natural beauty. However, inwardly, I couldn\'t help but narrow my eyes. This wood didn\'t seem like it came from the woods of our forest, and it was the first time I had paid attention to it.

\'Maybe a now extinct tree?\'

I thought inwardly.

It was a small detail but one that brought a subtle feeling to my head. Something felt like it didn\'t add up. The trees lived long, if I knew, and this house didn\'t seem like it was that old now. Doesn\'t that mean these materials came from somewhere else?

\'Now that I think about it, how come we have furniture made from metal? I hadn\'t seen any person in the village who was interested in such things. Where did those come from?

Those questions that I had never asked myself started bothering me. Was it an external influence in my head, I wondered.

–CREAK!

Upon reaching my room, the door creaked slightly as I pushed it open. The familiar sight of bookshelves greeted me, their contents neatly arranged and waiting to be explored.

This was my place to relax, no matter the time or the thoughts in my head.

The room, an extension of my private sanctuary, bore the marks of countless hours spent in contemplation.

\'Should I go with this….\'

I chose a book, its cover worn from repeated readings, and settled into the chair by the window. It was a book that I started reading recently. A book about a man becoming a piece of society from a nomad.

"He will assimilate himself at the end."

I mumbled without knowing.

"Hmm?"

However, at that moment, something bothered me.

"Assimilate? What does that mean?"

I didn\'t know the meaning of the word that I had just spoken.

\'I wonder, I started creating random verbs out of nowhere.\'

It was certainly plausible for me to do such a thing. When you have time, you can do all those pointless things after all.

With a dismissive shake of my head, I started walking towards my bed.

But as I walked, my gaze lingered on the small clock perched beside my bed. The ticking hands, a reliable companion in the quiet moments of the night, now seemed frozen in time.

"Hmm, something\'s not right," I muttered to myself, my curiosity piqued. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the clock had ceased to function.

The hands, once in harmonious motion, now hung suspended in stillness.

\'Wait?\'

No. Saying it suspended in stillness didn\'t make any sense. With my eyes, I could see that there was a small abrasion on the tip of the two hands of the clock.

\'Something is holding it.\'

I leaned in for a closer look, my fingers delicately tracing the path of the clock\'s hands. Just as I was about to ponder what could be causing the obstruction, my eyes fixated on the time displayed on the frozen timepiece.

–06:06.

A sudden chill ran down my spine, and a strange feeling gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. Following that, suddenly, countless different images started seeping through my head, as if I was seeing the things that I had forgotten.

"What?"

The images and everything became so overwhelming that I almost lost consciousness on the spot.

"What is this?"

And just as everything started to make sense, suddenly, I felt another chilling sensation.

Took you long enough. ?

It was a cold and chilling voice echoing in my head.