Z-Seasonal Garden Chapter 36

Read Table of Content | +Kyla Scurchio
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     I was no longer a hunter, no, I was a predator. The garden had changed me, warped me into something it wanted me to be, forced me to become something new. I was a lot stealthier, constantly moving, never letting them gain the upper hand. I worked my way through the different mice at a rate I thought unobtainable before.
     I had to use magic’s I never thought I was capable of, on mice I use to think powerful. Bah! This was my garden now, and soon I would take the tower. I let revenge push me to the edge and back again, but in doing so I had to let go of everything else. I had to forget Plankrun and his chosen path on the mainland. I was not allowed to dwell on it I had to change as the seasons changed around me. I had to learn.
     Once I mastered the magic I was able to live quite comfortably in the garden. I was able to push the rain away from me, forming a safe dome of dry air around my body. Summer was nothing when I
could also push away heat. I could also condense the heat into a sphere and push it at unsuspecting mice, much like the summer mage mouse did. I had been watching him closely, stalking him, learning his ways. It had become apparent to me that all the season masters held a key. And I needed to find the one that would unlock the door on the tower. Although I had mastered the seasons I still wouldn’t have minded a nice shelter.
     I had more knowledge on this place than anyone living and I was sure of it. I filled the blank pages in the back of my spellbook with info any future hunters would need if they ever ended up here. I noticed something else as well; energy had overtaken my trap as I hunted. Catches would make its energy stronger. I used spells to trap its amplified power concerned something was intervening with my magic. But I found nothing, no outside force I could think of was tampering with my trap, and the energy just stayed dormant, bottled up within my trap like it was waiting to be used. And If I missed a mouse bits of the energy left but returned when I’d catch again. I scribbled notes of this occurrence into the back of my spellbook, filling the last page with my tiny scrawl.
     The moment when I felt I had achieved true victory was upon the next winter season. These mice were very crafty, having mastered the ice and the snow, but I too had become a master. When I had encountered the winter mage mouse I had to laugh at the look on his face; shock that I was not cowering down under the tree waiting for spring. I had saved up heat energy from the summer and used it to my advantage during the winter days.
     “You have something I want.” I growled at the mouse. I wasn’t stupid I knew he wouldn’t give up his key but that was not what I was expecting. After I had spoken I watched his paw twitch up to a pocket on his coat. I only needed to know where it was.
Before this encounter I had staked out the land, placing my hydro shock trap under cover of magic. The Mage stood dangerously close to it. Even he would be no match to the smell of fresh warm cheese in the winter. His ears twitched and he took a glance at the morsel, torn between me and the food. He tried to summon the winds to blow the cheese from the base but it wasn’t enough this time.
     Frustration boiled in his veins. I watched him wave his icy staff, calling the wind to engulf him and make ready his escape. Too bad for him, I was quicker; with one swipe of my arm I killed his gust of wind. Snow fell lightly around us, no breeze, and no blizzard. The mouse turned to run sensing defeat.
“Oh no you don’t!” I said in a hushed whisper.
     I sprinted after the mouse throwing piles of fresh powder into the air. He shot blasts of frigid wind back at me with his staff. I was swifter though and tackled him to the ground. I felt the icy blow of his staff to my shoulder but I ignored it. I called upon my summer reserves and engulfed the mouse in a blanket of heat. His staff melted away, the winter magic melted along with it. Claws and teeth raked my body leaving me with scars and gashes that would bleed until I healed them. Finally, the mouse went limp in my arms. He could not survive outside of winter; the summer heat had destroyed him.
     I plucked the key from his pocket and left him in the snow. He’d vanish when spring came.  There was nothing left to do but wait; when summer came I’d be ready for the next hunt. One more season to master, one more key to steal.