HOWLING AT THE moon seemed such a fruitless activity but any creature capable of making such a splendid sound felt duty bound to give the great glowing orb in the sky a good send off.
In the land of Yotun the very glimpse of Serenity and its cratered face above the wild landscape set off whole packs of creatures screaming at the sky, sometimes in unison, sometimes in a series of individual efforts that sounded through the darkness like ghouls seeking prey.
'Quite a little concert we got going there tonight,' one veteran hunter said as he tossed the last of his tea onto the fire where it hissed and bubbled a moment.
Around him on the cliff ledge, the fringe of shadowed trees was filled with beasts baying at the moon. His younger companion seemed a little ill at ease, for some of the eerie sounds were rather closer than he liked. Reaching for a weapon, he surveyed the darkness in search of telltale glows from watching eyes.
'Relax Matchbie, this is a defensible position,' his older colleague assured the other. 'Besides, those aren't hunting sounds, just mindless beasts venting at prey beyond their reach.'
'You reckon Keepert that's why they howl like that? Frustration?'
'More than likely.'
The man spat on the fire. He seemed to enjoy making it hiss like a Drang Swamp snake. Having skinned a few of those in his time, the thought seemed somehow satisfying.
Fire.
It was the thing these Yotun creatures feared the most. More than a hunter and his weapons. More than local regulators and their sterilising darts. More than the moon above.
It was something to do with their primeval nature he reckoned. Legends told of great fires in the early days of the world and race memory had instilled that fear deep in their animal brains. Hunters though overcame such fears, intelligent predators equipped to be masterful.
'We got the measure of these beasts,' he added. 'I've been traipsing these trails here in the Lost Plateau for more years than I can remember. Ain't a bear, wolf, lion or squirrel can match me one on one, because I know what makes them quail, what makes them critters bow down to a superior mind.'
'What's that then Keepert?' the younger hunter said, showing a traditional respect for an old man rambling about glory days gone by. As he asked his question he also threw the remains of his tea onto the fire. As it was the most horrendous beverage he had ever tasted he had drunk little of it so an almost full mug was sloshed over the burning wood.
The effect was instant.
The fire went out in a shriek of steam, the comforting red glow disappeared and the darkness suddenly collapsed upon the two men sat on the cliff ledge. At the same moment all the howling around them ceased.
'Bugger,' Keepert breathed and tried in the blackness to remember where he had put his rifle, his flame-sparker, dry kindling and a whole lot of other things. For in the untamed and untameable wilds of Yotun prey only existed so for a matter of seconds, and then it became food.
At such times as these the doom of a world could itself become very personal, especially when one were witness to a miracle that heralded the end of all things. It was while the two hunters scrabbled around on the rock ledge in search of survival that a new glow appeared in the land, or rather above it.
Fire.
The light of Serenity was not enough to disperse the darkness, but this moving orange flame certainly could.
'By all the hairless beards of the Faceless, what is that?' a gruff voice sounded near Matchbie's ear as everything took on an eerie appearance. He turned and looked up.
'Fire,' the younger man croaked. 'From the sky.'
'Bloody useful that,' Keepert agreed for other eyes watched the ball of flame as it descended from on high, the eyes of encircling beasts no longer interested in howling at anything except their own despair perhaps at being thwarted. They liked human flesh. It usually tasted like chicken which they missed as all the groundfowl in Yotun had long been savaged into extinction.
When the fireball struck it sent up an enormous plume of roiling flame. The heat of it could be felt and the shrieks of enraged and terrified beasts filled the air before being drowned by the thunder of impact.
'Hey,' Matchbie said as a bear ran over him to escape the horror. 'Not polite.'
He raised his rifle at the receding furry creature but Keepert lowered his barrel.
'We need fire,' he reminded the younger man. 'And the fire we need is over there. Bloody meteorite struck in the valley. Burning the place up nicely. I fancy me some rare mineral ore and a few roasted deer. Let's decamp while the beasts are disoriented and trek down into a treasure trove of otherworldly stuff.'
'What if it's dangerous though?' Matchbie said, hesitating. 'You know, all glowy?'
'What if it's the first phase of the end of the world?' Keepert snorted. 'Don't make a blind bit of difference either way. We got fire, and that means in Yotun the difference between life and death. Let's go hunting.'