by\u00a0Onabe \u014ckamiotoko (\u5fa1\u934b\u72fc\u7537)<\/p>\n
Milo had come to the tavern for anything but a drink.<\/span><\/p>\n He sat at the table alone, hands occupied with what was between his legs \u2014 a dagger made of bone. With a silent focus, he sharpened the blade with a whetstone while the noises of the tavern blossomed around him. Bright, joyous music from the stage filled the room, and lamps flickered from the walls, establishing a cozy atmosphere. Milo sighed. His heart was heavy. He\u2019d been keeping track of the days in his journal for the past week, eager for the arriving full moon.<\/span><\/p>\n A clattering on his table broke his concentration. Milo, finally torn away from his blade, stared up to see a young man standing across from him, arms folded with a skeptical. Very light shoulder-length blond hair framed his face, delicate enough to remind Milo of a plume of feathers. Milo set aside his dagger, eyes lingering on the young man for longer than he should have had, until his voice finally broke.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLet me get you something,\u201d the young man offered.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAre you the barmaid?\u201d Milo asked, skeptical of whoever this was.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo, but that isn\u2019t such a bad idea now, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The young man helped himself to a seat. Milo didn\u2019t argue \u2014 he crossed his legs instead and glanced at his blade on the table. He quickly placed the whetstone next to it as well, hoping not to give the impression that he was a threat. However, it seemed that the young man was occupied with everything other than the fact Milo carried a blade so casually into a place of business. He\u2019d seen this type of behavior before \u2014 it was typical of werewolf hunters from the village. It seemed as if anything the sun touched, the hunters felt obliged to own in some way or form.<\/span><\/p>\n It left a bitter taste in the young man\u2019s mouth, to say the least.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIs that blade for anything in particular?\u201d He asked Milo.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo quite \u2014 I\u2019m hoping to have it appraised by the guild master.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGuild master \u2014 you don\u2019t mean Lyle Hartman do you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo smirked. He was pleased to hear the name spoken so openly. \u201cYes, that\u2019s exactly who I mean. I crafted it myself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s quite the accomplishment then,\u201d the young man said. \u201cYou must be very proud of yourself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n As he spoke, two cups of ale landed on the table. The busty barmaid serving them bowed politely and excused herself after delivering the drinks.<\/span><\/p>\n Milo\u2019s eye widened \u2014 he hadn\u2019t ordered anything. All his suspicions pointed back to the young man, who was beginning to look rather pleased with himself.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDid you\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a treat on me,\u201d the young man explained, waving his hand. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it. I can appreciate a talented amateur when I see one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo hummed, not sure what to answer that with. He took a sip from the cup, praying to himself that it wasn\u2019t somehow poisoned. \u00a0\u201cThank-you,\u201d Milo said. He\u2019d grown up in a household where gratitude was a virtue, and unlike the other hunters he knew, he never turned his nose up at a gift<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s my pleasure.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The young man was very well-dressed. Milo wasn\u2019t typically one to take note of who was wearing what, however he did notice the cotton collar around the other\u2019s neck. Below it was a frill tucked neatly into his button-down shirt, with his long sleeves expertly tailored to fit his frame.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNow, tell me about that blade,\u201d the young man asked. \u201cMy name is Sylvester. It\u2019s a relic of my previous master.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMaster \u2014 you\u2019re someone\u2019s protege?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cPrecisely, I\u2019m studying under Mr. Hartman himself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo drummed his fingers impatiently as Sylvester drank, obviously not used to the bitter taste of this tavern\u2019s offerings. \u201cSo, you work under the Hunter\u2019s Guild?\u201d Milo asked. If this Sylvester was going to interrupt him, they may as well speak.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat would be the case,\u201d Sylvester replied. \u201cI\u2019m very lucky to be working with such an expert. The next full moon is soon. It\u2019d be a shame for us to be down any number of men.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo raised a brow. Perhaps he was misunderstanding \u2014 but somehow Sylvester neither gave him the impression of a hunter, nor someone who would be working under one. It was suspiciously, to say the least.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNow, about that blade\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m planning on using it on the next full moon,\u201d Milo said. \u201cIt was a gift. But it\u2019s dull now. So, I\u2019m preparing it for the hunt.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester laughed. \u201cMaybe our meeting is auspicious after all.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n There was something vaguely unnatural about his eyes, something almost pointed that seemed to watch Milo\u2019s every move. They were a stark icy blue, a color that Milo had never seen. But he attempted to mask his preoccupation with another drink while Sylvester spoke.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMy master\u2019s quite the huntsman,\u201d Sylvester said. \u201cMany talented werewolf hunters have studied under him. I find his taste in peers\u2026 interesting, but I\u2019m grateful nonetheless to be working for him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHave you ever…\u201d Milo let the question linger, trail to the end of his tongue. He winced at Sylvester\u2019s obvious mention of werewolves, as if approaching such a subject matter wasn\u2019t some tactless <\/span>faux pas<\/span><\/i>.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo, no yet,\u201d Sylvester answered. \u201cI hope to find my answer this coming week though. The full moon <\/span>is <\/span><\/i>coming. I\u2019d be ashamed for all this training to be wasted.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo silently nodded in agreement. He eyed his dagger on the table, wondered if him and Sylvester might have similar goals. If both of them were both destined for that fabled title of werewolf hunter, along with all the danger and baggage the occupation carried. Hundreds of men before them have died doing the same thing, and many before that as well. When Milo truly contemplated it, his skin ran cold, and he felt the sweat on the nape of his neck at the thought of encountering a living, breathing beast in the wilderness.<\/span><\/p>\n These <\/span>were <\/span><\/i>uncertain times.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMy neighbor\u2019s cattle were destroyed only a few days ago,\u201d Milo explained. \u201cHe depends on his farm to feed his family. It\u2019ll only get worse the longer we wait. I can\u2019t stand seeing others suffer just because we can\u2019t control the wildlife.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201c<\/span>Wildlife<\/span><\/i>…that\u2019s one way to put it,\u201d Sylvester laughed. \u201cBut I agree. Perhaps, there are other solutions to our problems other than mindless maiming and killing, though. But I doubt we will see that in our lifetime.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo took another drink. A golden medallion hung off Sylvester\u2019s collar in the shape of an eye. If he suspected Sylvester was wealthy, then this observation only confirmed it \u2014 he was dealing with a member of the bourgeois who pursued membership into the guild for sport. He feigned a smile, knowing better than to let those ugly thoughts creep across his face in polite company. However, Milo soon caught Sylvester grimace, palming his medallion feverishly, as if he were sitting across a thief rather than a new acquaintance.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThis is from my Lyle. He demands I wear it,\u201d Sylvester confessed. Milo\u2019s ears perked at the sudden drop in formalities. \u201cHe said all of his prot\u00e9g\u00e9s before wore it as well. I don\u2019t argue with him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s strange,\u201d Milo said. \u201cBut I suppose tradition is worth something.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester seemed less concerned. He bit his lip and took another drink from the ale, although it was clear he wasn\u2019t enjoying it much. \u201cI\u2019ll be heading off now,\u201d he announced. \u201cI assume you will be at the gathering at the guild house later?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Caught off-guard by the invitation, Milo anxiously stirred in his seat. The chair beneath him screeched as he shot up without any reservation for those watching. To meet the guild master personally was the opportunity of a lifetime \u2014 one that Milo knew would never land in his lap again if he dismissed it. \u201cAn invitation to the guild meeting? Really?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAbsolutely,\u201d Sylvester said. He circled around the table closer to Milo, close enough that Milo recognized how smooth his skin, how light his hair was. \u201cIt\u2019d be an honor on my behalf to have you come join us.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n A pair of gentle lips brushed against Milo\u2019s cheekbones. Milo closed his eyes, and suddenly realizes the soft scent that seemed to radiate from Sylvester, like wet flowers in spring. The kiss was brief, a chaste farewell as Sylvester departed, and left the tavern door swinging in his absence. Milo first touched the side of his face, then reached for his blade with a renewed fever to finishing sharpening it. Such customs weren\u2019t uncommon in the village, yet Milo felt a lucidity in him stir from Sylvester\u2019s touch. Fixated on the blade, he finally placed it back in the sheath strapped to his side and left the ale on the table. The candles on the wall flickered restlessly as the barmaids and patrons went about their regular business.<\/span><\/p>\n Milo thought of the gold of Sylvester\u2019s hair \u2013 a rich, powerful gold that Milo could only encounter in dreams. He hoped to see him again, as soon as possible.<\/span><\/p>\n ***<\/span><\/p>\n The starless night made Milo\u2019s eyes weary and his spirit low. He sat on the edge of his bed while the trees shook outside. A few quiet murmurs of animals outside interrupted his silence, but Milo was mostly deep in thought. Tomorrow morning would be the first guild meeting at the village town hall, where he would finally meet Sylvester\u2019s infamous master.<\/span><\/p>\n Milo\u2019s stomach twisted itself in knots. He gripped the wooden handle of his dagger, knuckles white with determination as he placed it back in its sheath. The meeting with Sylvester was still on his mind \u2014 the impeccable otherworldliness of the young man still fresh in his memory. Something was not right about that boy. His demeanor was polite, however Milo wondered if there was more to him than impressions gave.<\/span><\/p>\n Only time will tell. All that matters is walking with those prestigious werewolf hunters, <\/span><\/i>Milo thought to himself.<\/span><\/p>\n Morning came quickly after a restless night. Milo stripped away his clothes for a leather vest and cotton tights. He tied a hemp belt around his waist, making sure his cherished dagger was securely in place. A kettle whistled in his kitchen and eggs sizzled on the frying pan \u2014 when he was done with breakfast, he left for town.<\/span><\/p>\n After locking his door, Milo caught a glimpse of a carriage bolting down the street. Alarmed, he slammed his back against his door frame as the carriage horses trampled past him. However, the horses quickly came to a sudden stop, their hoofs skidding against the ground as their coachman pulled back on their reigns. When the commotion finally came to a pause, Milo eased his way back to the road in front of his house, where he unexpectedly heard his name called out from the carriage window.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMilo is it?\u201d the voice cried.<\/span><\/p>\n Milo bit his bottom lip. He nodded.<\/span><\/p>\n A head emerged from the window: a blond, otherworldly head. When Sylvester finally found him, he gave him a toothy grin, clearly pleased that coincidences permitted their meeting. \u201cWould you mind riding with me to the guild meeting? There\u2019s spare room. I prefer to ride with company than alone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo shook his head. A horse whinnied, kicking the ground with its hoof while Milo cautiously watched. Something never felt right about horses to him. It was their <\/span>too-human <\/span><\/i>eyes. But their uncanny beauty also reminded Milo of Sylvester, who was currently perched outside his carriage window like a bored tropical bird.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI understand if you don\u2019t want to draw attention to yourself,\u201d Sylvester offered, \u201cBut I promise it will be much quicker this way than traveling on foot. And I suppose you wouldn\u2019t want to miss the opportunity to leave a good impression with master Hartman, wouldn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou have a point,\u201d Milo decided. Arriving on carriage would definitely make a better impression. But it still wouldn\u2019t change the fact that he was a newcomer, a fresh-face who\u2019s arrival would garner unwanted attention from veterans regardless.<\/span><\/p>\n With little more convincing to be done, Milo accepted Sylvester\u2019s offer. As he boarded the carriage, Milo noticed Sylvester\u2019s garments to be even more lavish than those he wore the previous night. Milo reckoned it must be for a special occasion, that as Hartman\u2019s prot\u00e9g\u00e9, there were different standards in how one dressed for meetings.<\/span><\/p>\n As the carriage started moving again, Sylvester took a deep, impatient breath. Milo raised his brow but said nothing until Sylvester finally spoke again.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m frightened,\u201d he admitted. \u201cThere are rumors that a werewolf might be about this coming full moon. If that is the case, then this meeting will be more significant than the prior.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n A chill ran down Milo\u2019s spine. Cheery voices ebbed and flow from the village outside while Sylvester carried on their conversation in a hushed, cautious tone.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI hope not to alarm you, but it\u2019s quite dire. The guild will need every able-bodied man in the village at this rate.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSurely you must not be that low in numbers,\u201d Milo gasped. \u201cI understand that enlistment has been\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cQuite <\/span>low, <\/span><\/i>yes,\u201d Sylvester muttered. \u201cNot as many individuals are willingly to put their lives on the line. The hunting business is not merciful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a shame,\u201d Milo answered. \u201cBut there isn\u2019t much getting around it, nowadays is there?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI just wish they weren\u2019t such <\/span>savages<\/span><\/i>.\u201d Milo watched Sylvester fold a strand of golden hair behind his ear. \u201cThe hunters, I mean. Not the werewolves. There\u2019s no working around that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cFor now. Until we find a cure,\u201d Milo offered. He hoped he sounded sincere. The last thing he needed now was for someone as generous as Sylvester to think less of him. \u201cIf men can turn into werewolves, then surely we can reverse the effect somehow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester gave another deep-seated sighed. He leaned into the cushion of the carriage, folding his hands atop one another. \u201cYour optimism is refreshing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo frowned. A pause. He heard the movement of the horse\u2019s hooves as they approached the cobblestone road in front of the town hall. As he leaned out the window, Milo saw the towering wooden structure move into view. One large balcony watched over the building\u2019s entrance, which was gated and guarded by two members of the guild for that afternoon.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLet us go,\u201d Sylvester said. As the carriage came to a stop, he neatly adjusted the collar of his vest. For once in his life, Milo felt horribly underdressed. Yet, he wondered where exactly Sylvester acquired such fine clothing, and whether or not the guild had any role in it. Not to mention \u2014 what role exactly, did Sylvester act, if he wasn\u2019t a hunter himself? Milo tucked the question away for later, like folding a letter in an envelope he refused to read. To ask so would be impolite, and Milo was beginning to prefer having friends in high places.<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester\u2019s coachman bid them farewell as they arrived at the gate. Without as much as a nod, the guards let Sylvester and Milo through, quickly shutting it behind them.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDo they always do this for you?\u201d Milo asked.<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester shrugged. \u201cI suppose it comes with the job. No one has complained so far, as to my knowledge.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo laughed. Sylvester glanced at him, before smirking with mild amusement at his reaction.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAre you surprised?\u201d he asked.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo, not really,\u201d Milo replied. \u201cJust takes some getting used to, is all.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cCharming,\u201d Sylvester laughed.<\/span><\/p>\n ***<\/span><\/p>\n A considerable crowd of huntsmen had arrived before Sylvester and Milo made their proper appearances. From the rows of tables, Milo recognized a few faces he\u2019d only seen in passing at the tavern. The rest of the guild members were absolute strangers, however Sylvester assured him that this was common. As the full moon approached, it was only natural for their numbers to fluctuate, for new members to arrive with the prospect of slaying a werewolf on their first outing. Very few lived to tell the tale \u2014 even fewer ever saw the opportunity in their lifetime.<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester wasted no time bringing Milo to a stairwell secluded from the central hall. From here, he promised that they would meet his master, that Sylvester would introduce both to one another with commendations. Milo\u2019s heart jumped at the thought, however he remained skeptical until Sylvester finally led him to an inconspicuous wooden door. After Sylvester gave it a few solid knocks, Mr. Hartman hastily welcomed them inside.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAnd who\u2019s this?\u201d Hartman asked. This was clearly a man who\u2019d seen his fair share of battles, marked by scars and painful-looking abrasions.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cA friend,\u201d Sylvester chimed. \u201cI met him at the tavern. He wishes to become a member of the guild. And I highly recommend him for the position, sir.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, hurry and bring him downstairs,\u201d Hartman spat. He shuffled some documents on his desk and stood up. Milo figured he must\u2019ve been at least six feet tall \u2014 nothing less for the man who led the hunting guild. However, how exactly such a man would meet Sylvester, and make him his prot\u00e9g\u00e9 no less, remained a mystery.<\/span><\/p>\n Hartman\u2019s office was a compact room, albeit too antique for Milo\u2019s taste, however he could clearly see Sylvester\u2019s influence. Carefully carved wooden tables and shelves lined the walls, stacked with books, and novelties. A small selection of framed artwork sat aside unhung, most of which were studies, although Milo did notice a few paintings.<\/span><\/p>\n Hartman left as soon as they\u2019d met him. Sylvester made an annoyed noise and folded his arms as the man swung the door open to descend downstairs. Murmurs of voices from below indicated that the meeting was taking place soon. However, it quickly became apparent that Sylvester had other plans.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat <\/span>was unfortunate<\/span><\/i>,\u201d Sylvester bemoaned. \u201cbut it’s also very like him. I\u2019m sorry for my master\u2019s rudeness.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThere\u2019s nothing to apologize for,\u201d Milo replied. \u201cI mean, I\u2019m just glad to be here. It really makes no difference to me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Sylvester hummed, turning to him. \u201cThere\u2019s no changing that man. He\u2019s a stubborn asshole. I\u2019m sorry, but I don\u2019t think your blade will be getting appraised anytime soon.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Milo felt a hand brush against him. Instead of pulling away, Milo allowed it to linger and trace the outline of his fingers before resting in his palm.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYour hands are calloused,\u201d Sylvester whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI suppose it comes with the job,\u201d Milo laughed.<\/span><\/p>\n Sylvester nodded, fixated on Milo\u2019s reaction. Milo allowed Sylvester to gently take his hand \u2013 Sylvester\u2019s skin was soft, surprisingly so compared to his own. Clearly something had prevented him from enrollment in the hunter\u2019s guild, Milo thought. This was not the touch of a man who hunted werewolves. This was a delicateness Milo felt the world was becoming less and less accommodating of, a selflessness that he himself felt incomparable to.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe have a meeting, don\u2019t we?\u201d Milo asked.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes, we do,\u201d Sylvester sighed. His expression became cloudy, difficult for Milo to read, however he assumed he wasn\u2019t thrilled with the prospect of going back downstairs. \u201cHowever, I rather spend my time up here with you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d Milo was surprised, although he understood Sylvester\u2019s intent well meant. Milo simply couldn\u2019t comprehend why Sylvester would want to abandon an importanting for him, of all people.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI was just \u2013 <\/span>entertaining <\/span><\/i>a thought,\u201d Sylvester laughed. He rubbed the medallion hanging from his neck feverishly, as if he\u2019d somehow been summoned from a land far away and was trying to return. \u201cI apologize for my directness. I went ahead of myself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo, that\u2019s not it at all,\u201d Milo whispered. He\u2019d admitted he enjoyed the other\u2019s company \u2013 it was a welcomed break from the dreariness of hanging around taverns all night. Plus, he also didn\u2019t mind Sylvester\u2019s good looks. \u201cI\u2019m just in awe, really, of actually being here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, at least you have a good sense of humor about it,\u201d Sylvester added. He opened the door, revealing the staircase leading back to the hall stage. \u201cHow about it? Do you want to join the others? Or would you rather take this opportunity to see something most don\u2019t?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cLike what?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSomething like \u2013 this,\u201d Sylvester said, gesturing at the framed paintings. \u201cYou\u2019re not a regular member, so I doubt you\u2019d be given access to Mr. Hartman\u2019s office for some time. Why not make the most of it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDo you spend a lot of time here?\u201d Milo asked, following Sylvester behind the desk to the paintings.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cSomething like that,\u201d Sylvester chimed. \u201cDespite being his prot\u00e9g\u00e9, I also play the part of a secretary. Not exactly what I signed up for but \u2013 it\u2019s worth the experience, I suppose.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cAnd these?\u201d Milo asked, pointing to a black and white study.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh, that. An old work. Nothing I would pay attention to, really.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI want to see,\u201d Milo implored. He skimmed his fingers along the frame, wiping away a streak of dust in the process. Another frame appeared behind it. Curious, Milo reached for that one as well, before Sylvester placed his hand defensively over his.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sure they can\u2019t be that bad,\u201d Milo said. \u201cIt\u2019s not an art gallery. Surely your master must have some reason for holding on to them.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cIn a better world, yes,\u201d Sylvester answered. \u201cI\u2019d be an artist. But <\/span>that <\/span><\/i>isn\u2019t the world we live in. I peddle paperwork all day, mostly.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBetter than putting your throat on the line.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes, I suppose that much is true,\u201d Sylvester sighed. Milo snorted. He found it bizarre Sylvester felt the need to demean his own work, however he decided not to press it any further until he could see the paintings for himself.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHere is one.\u201d Sylvester pulled out a single framed work, a small square that he held lightly with both hands. \u201cThis is of a specimen we have preserved in one the laboratories.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The painting depicted a single, lupine-shaped skull with an arrangement of minerals and stones. A nude figure sat beside it, back turned away from the viewer to reveal the boney curvature of their spine. Something ominous surrounded the piece of art, as if it were inviting wandering eyes to nestle themselves between the crevices of each bone, to wearily contemplate it. Sylvester\u2019s lips made a fine, thin line as Milo observed it, fingers ghosting over the glass frame separating the illustration from the rest of the world.<\/span><\/p>\n