Half an hour from the city, in a stretch of woodland that grew thick and wild upon the edge of the westernmost of Torid’s farms, Rayne and his companion were on their hands and knees, peering through the underbrush as they searched for the herbs that had been requested.

  There were two primary types of plant they were looking for. The first was Healer’s Friend. Just as the name indicated, it was an herb with healing properties. When crushed, it would become a paste that would accelerate healing wherever it was applied. Slicing it allowed precious nectar to escape, which was a vital ingredient in healing potions. And when diced, it made for a perfect garnish.

  Fortunately, the herb was not too rare, growing commonly beneath coniferous trees and on the underside of boulders, and with its distinct seven-pointed leaf pattern, it was hard to miss. This was their primary goal, and both Rayne and Syra had already gathered half a basket’s worth of plants each since arriving an hour ago.

  The second herb on their list was a little trickier. Named Tomcat’s Duridium, it supposedly worked as an aphrodisiac, or at least that was what Rayne remembered from his classes on the subject. Unlike Healer’s Friend, the Duridium was harder to find. A small pink flower, it bloomed only on the tips of small plants hidden in the soil. As a result, it was easy to miss, and even easier to accidentally trample under foot, destroying the precious blooms before they could be harvested.

  “Another one to your left,” Rayne remarked, indicating with his left hand a small flower by Syra’s feet.

  Lifting her boot, she grinned as she swooped down, her nimble hands carefully plucking the flower, stem and all, from the ground and placing it in her basket. “Good eye,” she remarked. “I didn’t even see that one.”

  Smiling in response, Rayne continued, combing the forest floor for more herbs.

  Herb collecting was decent work, but also much more exhausting than it seemed on the outside. Between searching for the plants, collecting them, moving to a new area, repeating the process, and the occasional break to relieve knees and shoulders that were cramping from the combination of exertion and heat, it was not easy. Thankfully, Rayne’s knowledge of herbs and his sharp perception combined nicely with Syra’s deft hands, and the two slowly but steadily piled the plants in their baskets.

  They had been at it for close to six hours when Syra suddenly raised herself up high, her body taut like a bowstring as she scanned the area. Unsure of what was happening, Rayne was about to ask her when she put a finger to her lips and turned his way.

  “Careful,” Syra warned, placing a cautioning hand across his chest to prevent him from moving any further. “There are banivs about.”

  Similar to kobolds, banivs were a weak monster that gathered in packs and lived on the fringes of civilized lands. Where they differed was appearance. While kobolds were reptilian in nature, with scaly hides and slitted eyes, banivs were warm-blooded and much more mammalian.

  Somewhat confused, Rayne stood still, doing his best to figure out what had made her issue such a warning. Unfortunately, all his untrained ear could hear were the sounds of the woods. Wind whistled through the trees, rustling the leaves and causing the sunlight to dance across the forest floor. Tiny animals scampered to and fro, hunting for fruits, nuts, and each other, while a stream bubbled nearby, the noise produced by its shallow waters hardly more than a whisper amidst the woodland symphony.

  Try as he might, Rayne could not figure it out. But a moment later, Syra dropped low, dragging him down as she did. As his questioning gaze fell upon her, she pointed northward, the direction from which he could hear the slow waters of the brook.

  Eyes darting from side to side, Rayne nodded as his gaze fell on the creature Syra had discovered. Standing in a small clearing through which a small brook bubbled, the baniv was drinking from the stream, unaware that it had been discovered.

  Standing roughly four-feet tall, the thing in front of him had a body covered in fur, with two small horns growing out of its forehead that could be used as makeshift weapons in a pinch. It somewhat resembled a goblin, if a goblin was tarred, rolled in muddy feathers, and then had two ram’s horns shoved into its skull.

  “Watch out for its claws,” Syra whispered. Her herb basket lay by her feet, dropped in favor of the twin shortswords she now carried, and she had dropped into a crouch as she observed the baniv.

  Emulating her, Rayne pulled out the sword he had borrowed from the guild, ready to do battle should the need arise.

  “Do we need to fight it?” he asked. “We’re pretty much done here, and it doesn’t seem to be hurting anyone all the way out here.”

  With an appraising look, Syra considered him. “I thought you needed money? Baniv horns can be turned in at the guild for fifty copper a pair. And where there’s one, there’s usually more.”

  Immediately, Rayne gripped his sword tighter. “Is there anything I should be aware of before fighting it?”

  “Nope, just avoid the claws and you’ll be fine.” Eyeing him, Syra seemed to come to a decision, for she pointed towards the baniv with one clawed finger. “Actually, why don’t you take it on? I wanna see what you can do.”

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  “Alright, but if I’m soloing it, then I get the horns once it’s dead,” Rayne declared. Syra nodded her agreement, and he paused for a moment to consider his foe before attacking.

  The baniv was smaller than him, and currently unaware of the impending danger, but it was far from defenseless. Baniv attacks were responsible for at least a dozen deaths every year among the farmers and foresters who lived outside the city walls, and they were classified as a monster for a reason. Even alone, they were a threat.

  Leaving Syra where she was, Rayne edged around the baniv, looking to get behind it. The clearing it stood in was not large, but it was big enough that it took him several painstaking minutes to get into position, tiptoeing through the forest like he tiptoed past Issa’s bedroom late at night when he did not want to wake her.

  Thankfully, the baniv did not move from its position, and it continued to sip gently from the stream, stopping occasionally to wash its forepaws in the slow-moving waters.

  Finally in position, Rayne did his best to steady his breathing. The sword in his hand trembled, a side effect of the tremors in his arm, and he suddenly felt anxious. It was strange, he had done just fine against the kobolds yesterday. And yet now, in this one-on-one in a tranquil woodland, he could barely keep his nerves under check. Was a duel really so different from a group fight?

  Aware that his thoughts were not helping, Rayne did his best to focus on the task at hand. With one last steadying breath, he leapt from the bushes, sword raised to impale the baniv.

  Seven steps. Normally, it was nothing. And yet now it was all the distance in the world. Vision narrowing, Rayne focused on his target, the light brown fur of the baniv expanding to fill his entire field of view as he rushed it.

  Six steps left. Then five. The sword felt heavy in his grip, his footfalls heavy on the wet grass of the embankment. The monster had heard him now, and it was turning, but too slow, he would strike it first. Or would he? With so little space between them, Rayne’s eyes met the baniv’s, human and monster sharing a look in the final moments for one of them.

  Then time suddenly accelerated, returning to normal. His last few steps were taken in a hurry, and Rayne felt his sword strike home, the baniv’s frantic dodge unable to get it away from his strike in time. But it was Rayne that felt despair as his charge carried him past his opponent, brown fur scampering to the side as it sought to escape.

  A glancing hit. Rayne cursed, whirling as he slashed desperately where the baniv had been a second earlier. He had drawn blood, but it was not a fatal strike, only a cut across the ribs that would no doubt hurt, but not incapacitate the monster.

  Unfortunately, his hunch was right on the mark. His followup attack passed through empty air, the baniv having leapt backwards to avoid his sword. It now stood across the clearing, one furry arm clutching its left flank where blood stained brown fur a dark crimson, its eyes glaring balefully at the would-be assassin.

  Fixing his stance, Rayne leveled his sword at the beast. His surprise attack had failed, but he had still managed to do some damage. Now it was a simple one-on-one. Him versus the baniv.

  In the back of his mind, he knew that Syra would probably step in if things got too hairy, but even she would not be able to save him if he got decapitated by those wicked claws.

  The thought was like ice water flowing through his veins, shocking his system as he confronted the possibility that he might die here. Having taken the initiation test and seen a fellow initiate die, Rayne had thought himself prepared for the possibility of death. But now that he found himself facing it, he discovered that he very much was not. He had goals, a sister who needed him, and a purpose. He could not fall here.

  Steadying the sword, he let out a loud warcry as he shot towards the baniv, sword descending in a diagonal slash as he aimed to cut the creature in half. An agile sidestep took it inside his swing, and Rayne was forced to abandon the attack as the baniv’s claws reached for his throat.

  A quick backstep took him out of range, and he stabbed at his foe as it sought to press its advantage, keeping it at bay as he panted for air. The battle had not even passed its first minute, and yet Rayne felt like his lungs were on fire.

  Circling each other warily, human and baniv each sought an opening in the other's defense. When none were presented, the baniv charged, two paws capped in three-inch long claws swinging wildly at Rayne’s chest and throat.

  This was the opening Rayne had been hoping for, and he thrust his sword at his charging opponent, aiming for its heart. Unwilling to die so easily, the baniv attempted to change course, but the momentum of its charge made that difficult. Just before the blade could pierce its flesh, it lifted its right arm, using it as a shield to absorb Rayne’s thrust, and then pulling back hard.

  Wrenched from his grasp, Rayne’s sword went flying to the side, where it landed point first, embedding itself half a foot into the loose soil of the riverbank. Without time to think, he lunged at his foe, tackling it to the ground as he sought to control its left arm. The right now hung limply by its side, the price it had been forced to pay in order to get rid of Rayne’s sword, but the left struggled valiantly against his grip, razor sharp claws seeking his throat as both fighters fought for their life.

  It was similar to a schoolyard fight, or the play-wrestling he had done with Issa many years ago, back when they were both young and their parents still lived, Rayne found himself thinking. Only here, he would die if he lost. The thought galvanized him, and he intensified his efforts, pushing the baniv’s arm to the side as its eyes widened in fear.

  With one hand still pinning its left arm, Rayne reached for his belt. Pulling out a knife he had taken from the kitchen, he attempted to stab the monster, only for it to wriggle its arm free from his grasp and stop him mere inches from its throat.

  The fight was Rayne’s, and both knew it, but the baniv refused to give up. Wiggling fiercely, it sought to escape, to keep the sharp paring knife from its neck by any means as Rayne did his best to achieve the opposite.

  Unleashing a primal scream, Rayne put all his weight onto his arms, driving the blade home at last into the neck of the baniv. As the steel pierced its flesh, the baniv’s eyes widened in desperation, but too late. Blood was already flowing through the wound in its flesh, arterial blood spraying violently into the air as its heart beat its last. Then the paws holding Rayne’s blade lost their strength, trembling briefly before going limp.

  Head lolling back, the baniv died, its pleading expression still fixed onto its face as its glassy eyes stared lifelessly at the sky above.