The Great Hunted

There were three suns in the sky that morning, and He felt the power of every one of them.

Walking down the grassy path toward his favorite hunting grounds he felt the warmth of the triple exposure. It was phenomenal, the energy it gave him and the strength he was drawing down.

This child of Sekhmet, Priest of Hera was ready for the day’s kill.  But not ready for the fight back he would suffer.

Apollo called to him from the chariot: “Brother, you walk with such grace and pride today! This gift I bring to you must have strong influence n your heart!”

The hunter smiled broadly, and seemed to make himself bigger, as if to be able to absorb more of the tripled sunlight and its fire.

Behind him a volcano was erupting, an omen of things to come?  Such destruction caused by such magnificent heat,Volcanoes were the only fire he didn’t like, the hunter. He disliked the unpredictability, he hated not knowing how close one was to going, or how long or destructive it would be.  He tried to avoid volcanoes, with all of his effort, but lately it seemed every time he went hunting, one was vomiting more of its anger, more of its terrible energy into the world he loved so much.  It knew she was trying to tell him something, Kali, She has always used this method to communicate with her followers, and though he wasn’t one of them, he knew she was reaching out to him. But what could she possibly want to say to him, Priest of the Queen of the Gods, Child of the goddess of justice and Revenge.  He was supreme hunter of the universe, no prey had ever escaped the lock of his bow, the tip of his spear was tainted with blood of prey by the thousands, those who had fought the wrong side of justice or attacked the morality of the heart.

Bringing his mind back to the hunt, he realized he had enter his favorite hunting grounds, and immediately the sight of his prey was locked in.  He smelled the fear of the young Priest of Mars, the hiding and the worry of not being good enough. Mars is the most dangerous of the gods, the hunter says to himself, he wreak havoc on order, always looking for a fight and always trying to assert his authority.  False authority annoys The hunter more than many things, He believes strongly in the integrity of Order.

Younger Priests of Mars, the newer ones are the worst. They have such zeal for their craft, such anxiety about getting it right and spilling enough blood, They often overkill on their missions, sacrifices are plentiful and the panic in the villages they overtake can be so outrageous.  The hunter begins flaring his nostrils, smelling the air more deeply.  He can sense the energy of this young priest, definitely a fighter but a young one, uneducated, unpracticed, strong but scared.  The hunter feels his teeth showing themselves, his long whip-like tail begins to sway slowly in the grass. He knows that there is already the scent of blood in the air, but he isn’t worried as he chooses-carefully-his weapon of the day didn’t seem appropriate suddenly, designed for slow and agonizing death, he had been in the mood to play with his prey this morning when he left.  Maybe all of the power of that Triple-Sun had changed something in his heart more than strength.  He felt eerily mournful for this loss of life, worried for the pain and suffering this creature might experience during this hunt.  He put away his double-headed Mace; trading ti instead for the swift accuracy of his favorite bow.  Forged in the fire of Hestia herself, who was incidentally always against his effort to slaughter the enemy but helpful to her favorite charge, by Hephaestus.  As he notched his arrow and locked his sight, he felt a slight breeze.

It was unlike The Gods to alter weather at all during his Hunt, knowing that he sought righteousness always, they rarely tried to alter his path, even Mars himself wouldn’t bother to protect his servants, knowing there would always be more of them.

But the breeze brought with it the scent of pain, the scent of ambition and The Hunter hesitated.

Hesitation is the biggest mistake of any hunter, and today was no different. He felt the shift in energy before he saw the blow coming.  The move from the child of Mars was so quick and such a  brutal blow, it almost didn’t hurt at all.  With a burst of energy to his heart, The Hunter fell letting loose his arrow,which flew for the first time off target.  In thousands of years he had not missed a single shot with his favorite bow and Arrows. 

And as the Arrow landed, askew, in a bush of Wild Red Roses, which seemed to be bleeding on their own, he felt his heart slow down.

There were three Suns that morning when The Hunter began his walk down the grassy path to his favorite hunting grounds. 

As he lie on his back, staring up at the Child of Mars he asked, “who are you that you have bested the Greatest hunter in the world, you are merely a child!” And the Child of Mars responded, Oh Great hunter, I have nto bested you I have merely allowed for your rebirth, in a different Body, with the same justice-seeking soul.  I am not a Child of Mars, but a commander of great armies untold in power; guardian of treasures unmeasured in value. And I bested you because you gave way to my projection.  It is time for you to expire, Hunter, when you believe the scents int eh air rather than the knowledge in your heart you have outlived your use for Sekhmet, Hera can no longer trust your accuracy or success.  The time has come, Hunter.”

The Hunter, looked in disbelief at the Sky.  Apollo, Ra, and Phoebus all looked down upon him, with smiles on their great faces.  The love they sent out, the warmth of those Three Suns comforted the Great Hunter as his life force slipped into the universe. And as the three Gods of the Sun shed their tears of mourning, fiery volcanic ash and lava poured from the heavens into the Great Hunting Ground… Kali was nowhere to be seen.

I was born on a day of Three Suns, amid a firestorm fo ash and lave, under the watchful teary eyes of Three Gods who ruled the Universe. I was warmed at the fire of Hestia, granted weapons forged by Hephaestus, Kissed by Aphrodite and adorned with Peacock Feathers from Hera Herself.  Artemis taught me the art of hunting, and Poseidon granted me skills of riding that can be matched by no creature or Man or otherwise.  I am but a young cub on my journey to being the Greatest Hunter that ever lived. I do not know the father from whom I gained the skill I’m born with, but I know what he left to me.  I do not know my path in life yet, but I am certain it is filled with Blood and Justice, with Pain and Compassion, with Mercy and Love.  And I know I burn with the fire of Three Suns…