A Mystery Solved
"Ob..., Obi..."
Because the sky seemed so cloudy that day.
"Oberon!!!"
That shout snapped me out of my thoughts, turning my attention to the one calling me.
"Stop daydreaming—we're in the middle of a hunt. Focus."
"Sorry, Father."
It was autumn back then, and we were tracking a bear. The tourists coming up the mountain said they felt frightened by the presence of that animal, which was getting too close to them, so we were asked to eliminate it—something that seemed stupid to me. We were the ones on its territory during a season when it needed to prepare food for hibernation.
We walked cautiously, following the bear's tracks—marks on the trees, trampled leaves, even fresh carcasses. It took us nearly two hours just to find him scratching his back against a tree. It was an amusing sight to see; I was about to laugh until my father's mere glance made me pull myself together.
"Go set the traps."
A simple order, which I obeyed without answering.
Do you know the best way to hunt a bear? The brown bear is a super-predator like humans; it sits at the top of the food chain. With its claws, it can rip your head off in a single attack. It has a layer of fat over its muscles that makes it resistant to bullets, and you can't even outrun it; They run, swim, and climb trees faster than a human. How can you kill a creature like that? It's simple: by disarming it bit by bit while exposing its greatest weakness.
After finishing setting the bear traps, I went to check in with my father. He was there, lying on the ground, with his hunting rifle aimed at what appeared to be the bear's den.
"I finished setting the traps, and the steak."
"Very good. Now get your camouflage ready, and let's wait for it to come out."
We stayed there, waiting for sunset, waiting for hunger to drive it out of its den—something that didn't take long compared to previous hunts.
It passed right by us; the camouflage made from dirt and leaves was enough to keep it from seeing or sensing us. We waited for it to move a little further away and then got up to chase it. Our steps were controlled; the slightest noise we made would have been fatal.
After a while during which the bear couldn't find any food, the scent of the steak finally lured him in, drawing him straight into our trap. One of its paws was caught; my father didn't let that opportunity slip by and fired at its eye. We'd managed to disable it twice; the hunt already seemed won.
"Release the birds!"
My father said, almost shouting. I ran quickly, making a detour with the bear in the center. The second stage was beginning; the element of surprise had already been used. The moment the prey recovers, everything gets complicated.
I opened the bird cages so it wouldn't know where to focus its attention. Doing that increased the animal's fear and stress, and once again, a shot confirmed my good work.
"Grrrrhhhh!!!!"
A roar that showed just how close we were. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't scared in that moment, that I stayed calm and composed, but the direct gaze of that bear—which looked like it had one paw in the grave—awakened my most primitive instincts.
"Obi!!! Get to safety, shit!"
"Shit?" My father had just whispered "shit?" That was enough to make me spin 120 degrees and run as if my life depended on it. In doing so, I had just broken the most important rule when hunting: never turn your back. The bear's instinct kicked in, and so began a chase where I was the prey this time.
I'd been running for minutes that felt like hours. Luckily for me, he had an injured leg, which slowed him down—otherwise I'd already be dead. It was nighttime now; I was exhausted and stopped for a second. Looking behind me, he was gone. It seemed he'd given up; I hoped that was the case.
It was night, and I felt like a knight in armor, except I had no protection. My body felt heavy, and I could barely see more than three meters ahead, so I decided to take a break; my father would surely arrive. I thought about using the flare gun, but the forest was too dense, and I only had one bullet.
"What a shitty day. I just want to get back to my bed."
With those words, I closed my eyes.
"I don't think it's time to sleep yet. Your 'little friend' is coming."
A voice—one that sounded calm, as if the moon were speaking to me—made me open my eyes and see a half-ton beast lunging toward me.
It still amazes me how I managed to dodge that by a hair's breadth. I rolled across the ground and tried to get up, but as if the day hadn't screwed me over enough already, the bear's claw managed to rip off a chunk of my left calf, and I crashed to the ground.
"I'm going to die, help!"
I screamed with all my might, but only the bear's roars answered me. I was about to die; the bear already had its mouth wide open. It was do or die. My body was exhausted, but I mustered every ounce of strength I had, grabbed the flare gun, and shoved it into its mouth—just as it was about to bite my hand. With one last surge of adrenaline, and with the last shred of courage I had left, I pulled the trigger. A red light illuminated its mouth all the way up to its skull, sending blood splattering onto my face. I stood there pulling the trigger over and over again; there was only one bullet, and I'd already used it. The Bear was motionless, and I stood there with my eyes wide open. The days had never seemed so long as they did then.
After the Bear fell, I finally let go of the trigger. My eyes were still fixed on what was now a corpse; my gun was still pointed at it. I didn't even have enough courage left to confirm its death; I just backed away, my butt pressed against the ground until my back rested against a tree. I was shaking and bleeding; I was paralyzed by everything that had happened, and the voice I'd heard before returned.
"Wow, that was impressive."
My eyes followed the source of the voice. It was a man in a black robe with a chain floating around him; strands of light could also be seen emanating from his body—a description that might seem too simplistic to anyone, but there was simply nothing else I could make out.
"You managed to kill a beast like this. Congratulations."
I didn't know what to say; I was still in shock.
"Aren't you going to speak? And here I was expecting a good long discussion. Well, I'll just summarize what's going to happen."
By that point, my consciousness was already fading; I didn't have enough mental strength to stay awake.
"Hey, don't fall asleep. Well, you'll find out for yourself. Congratulations—you've been chosen as a candidate."
"Ca...n...di...date?"
I couldn't even get an answer to my attempted question—just one last smile before closing my eyes, a smile that wasn't pleasant to see.
I woke up with a jolt, gasping for air.
"Was it a dream? No, these are my memories."
After realizing what had happened, I couldn't stop the blood boiling inside me; my eyes were filled with rage.
"Damn son of a bitch, you're the one who locked me up here."
I got up, swallowing a wave of nausea, and took a deep breath to calm myself.
"I hope you have a good excuse for me when I find you."