Pathyn disappeared into the bushes under one of the trees near the families’ homes in Fearalas, the cousins were all playing a game of very boring tag for him. As he saw the flare go off he quietly slipped back from the light overhead. It was almost amusing how his sister Sysvien thought that the flare would shine around one of their huge home trees, she was adorable, a thought she would hate, so he would tell her it later.

“Out!” She called, she had tagged someone, probably with one of her blunt arrows. As fun as the game was for the twelve cousins whose families all lived together since the Sundering, it was also ongoing training. They had all been born within 150 years of each other, so they all made time to work with one another to strengthen themselves for when the group went out to fight together. 

Since he had no idea who she caught, there was to know who the new hunter was, he remained in his hiding place, just closing his eyes and listening for clues. When nothing was obvious he slipped quietly through the brambles, the branches barely moving. This was why exercises like this were boring for him, his job in the field was to find a place to observe and not act until the surprise would be to his best advantage. 

A small sound caught his attention as he came around the tree, thick leather brushing with weight behind it. Aistrelaa, the warrior tried to be silent like the other cousins but she made a point of practicing in her work armor. Most that they fought would not be able to hear her, but most of her family could. It was almost not fair. 

Aistre passed within an arm’s length of him, and he drew into a tighter crouch, keeping his breathing slow and even. His aunt had taken him under her wing when he was young; now he could slow his heartbeat to nearly the lowest elven rhythm possible. A yawn threatened, and he covered his mouth, leather gloves muffling the sound.

“Out!” That was unexpectedly close to him.

A woman laughed and her voice sounded from above. Leaping down from a branch that had above him, flipping in mid-air before she landed silently. *’Showoff,’* he thought and smiled. His oldest sister didn’t take her part in these exercises seriously, even if she was the one that ordered them done. 

Melenisse was the leader of their group, the hunter could survive through anything, and had. Between her and her hawk, Yarros, they had the highest kill count of any of them. 

As Pathyn did not see the hawk anywhere he held his breath, and stilled his body completely. Yarros hunted by movement, he made sure he did not give him a target. 

He complained jokingly in camp that adding the pets to the training was two, or three at times, hunting individuals, all of those that were bonded asked if he wanted to go into battle without his daggers as removing a weapon from any of them would weaken the team. 

It did not take long for Yarros to sweep through the branches with a victorious shriek that matched Mel’s “Out!” call. 

The game had moved too close to him, even with his skill it would not stop a moment of luck. So far of all of the twelve of them, only three had not been caught. Melanal, his youngest sister, a priestess of Elune, Kyeanadril, his druid cousin and Pathyn. He could understand Ky and him not being caught, but Mellie was usually one of the first out, her skills did not translate well to exercises like this. He and Kyean worked with her a lot finding ways for her to adapt, but so far they had not borne fruit. 

To his utter surprise huge paws settled around his waist, then they shifted into dark hands and he was lifted overhead. Instantly, Mellie illuminated the area in golden light over Kyean and him, unmasking both in terms of the game. 

With a laugh, Kyeanadril shouted out. “And the master has fallen! All hail the victor Melanal!”

Pathyn had won thirteen of their last fifteen games, and this was bitter on his tongue, but he looked over and saw the pride in his sister’s face and that melted away. Leaping over the bushes that had hid him, he picked her up on his shoulders, “All hail Melanal!”