Daystone Snippets...

[Blue burrowing critter]

Chapter 1 Reminiscing about Worse Days


She could barely keep her eyes open, the reasons were probably many, but she wasn't going to bother listing them all to herself.


So, she blamed the particularly boring page she was on, and not the nearly three and a half days she had been awake, marching in a nearly straight line towards the next Daystone's location.


In a desert, with barely any water since there hadn't been any nearby when she started heading this way, or food now that she was actually thinking about it, those were probably things she should worry about.


Ehh, she ultimately shrugged, I've been through worse and done more with less, and it was entirely honest, and basically summed up a lot of her life.


She pulled her eyes away from the page and looked up at the stars, in countless beautiful patterns that flew right over her head, she kinda half smiled at her own joke, the moon hung high in the sky so it would be a while longer before the sun rose.


Her fire would probably dwindle before then, she leaned back from her hunched reading position to more comfortably lay against Crime, her Crimson Golem possessed Lock Sword, that she affectionately named Crime, cause she was nothing if not honest about what she did!


…That was a complete lie, but another joke that kinda raised her mood, she thought back too when she obtained them.


She'd recently graduated from a mere student Red Hunter to a full member of the order, it had both been a surprise and entirely expected for different reasons, she had been a year younger than some of the other graduates, four years younger than most.


The youngest to ever become a full Red Hunter, she'd been proud of herself and her accomplishment, and very surprised and suspicious at the time.


"At the time?" She was still suspicious about it, and then came her first assignment, "The Eternal Prison", very spooky stuff, Ghost's, weird noises, stuff like that galore, but nothing actually dangerous happened until after she found the Daystone.


Maybe she shouldn't have mocked that suit of armor and stolen its sword, but she would definitely do it again if given the chance to get her Lock Sword, the fight has been quick and hard, with her winning through a lucky throw that broke it's head, helmet head?


Whatever, she won but the sword she had taken was trashed, but he'd been so kind as to provide a much better replacement, her Lock Sword!


She'd breathed a sigh of relief picked up her sword and headed on her way, thinking that was it.


But that had only been the beginning of it, she'd had to fight her way out through dozens of those possessed suits of armor, the place had turned into a maze of horrors and shambling nightmares and dead things, of rusted steel and rotting wood and cracked stone and cold corridors.


It was weird but she thought about the clothes she'd worn, the full tan tunic-robe, black pants the too big belt that didn't even hold up her pants, the white arm protectors and bracelets past the mid point of her biceps, the pair of emerald tail ornaments.


Those gauntlets had not been white when she was done, nor had they been in one piece, when she finally got out of that place she…


Was still smiling, couldn't stop smiling, she had never felt so alive as when she was stuck in there with only one way out, through everything that wanted her dead.


When it was finally over and she had won, succeeded, accomplished her mission excellently.


She had wanted to turn around and go right back in there, to feel it again, the sheer joy of winning and beating monsters trying to kill her, of being on that edge and dancing on the tight rope of life and death.


But, instead she went back to the temple, gave them the Daystone, and received her next mission, still injured, still covered in blood and she was sent to obtain the next Daystone, and she'd headed out, hoping it would be a similar one.


She'd been disappointed on her second mission, it wasn't because it was difficult, it was too easy, no threats, no monster or anything, just nothing.


She'd been so bored!


Just like right now!


The next couple dozen missions had been extremely varied and interesting in their own ways, but it wasn't until getting the God's Descent mission that she had something truly interesting.


Like last time the fun hadn't started until after she got the Stone, when the surrounding rocks surrounded a Crimson Gem to form Crime!


She'd been pretty much blinded by the dust and bright red light, then she got full body blindsided by his giant rock and stone fist.


He rocked her, so she had to rock him back!


When he went for another smash, she jumped up so far that it was honestly kinda comical.


Then, with maximum effort she jumped down and pierced right through his face!


…and it was over, nice fun fight and then the fun was over, she sighed remembering, then she looked back a little further, back before she was even a student.


The orphanage, the Red Hunter recruiter, the Grandmaster…


She didn't have much to remember really, no friends to reminisce about the good old days with, no friends at all, just her, her Lock Sword, and Crime, they were the only friends…


No, the only family I needed, that I wanted.


Who would want to be friends with a girl named "Kocia Pierdocia" anyway?

 

[Blue burrowing critter]

the Maw of the Daystone



The swamp smelled like rot and old blood — a perfume Kocia was unfortunately getting used to.



She crouched low on a half-sunken statue, her tail twitching. "Ugh, smells like my last boyfriend," she muttered, flicking a mosquito the size of a bat. In the murky distance, a faint glow pulsed — orange, steady, heartbeat slow.



A Daystone.



Her fangs flashed in a grin. "Finally."



The glow came from inside a thing that had once been a church. Now it was mostly bones and vines. Kocia stepped inside, boots squelching in water. The air buzzed — a vibration deep in her chest.



Then came the scream.



The walls rippled, melting like candle wax as the Daystone's light twisted into shape.

What emerged was a nightmare of tendons and brass — The Maw of Dawn, a creature with six arms and a dozen blind faces along its chest. It dragged itself out of the stone altar, its many jaws clattering like chains.



Kocia unsheathed her curved blade and sighed.

"Of course it has teeth. Everything in this place has teeth."



The monster lunged.

She ducked under a swipe, slashing one arm — sparks instead of blood. Another limb caught her across the ribs and threw her through a window.



Kocia landed on her feet, gasping, blood mixing with rain.

Her tail lashed, and she smirked.

"Bad move, ugly. You just ruined my jacket."



She sprinted forward, faster than sound, the world blurring as she used her Hunter's Step — a technique that burned through stamina like fire through oil. She cut off two arms, then jammed her sword into the beast's chest.

The creature didn't bleed — it screamed, the sound warping the air.



Kocia was thrown back again, ears ringing, her sword flying from her grip.

Then she saw it — a fragment of the Daystone embedded in the monster's core, pulsing brighter with each breath.



"Oh… you're wearing it," she whispered. "That's new."



The monster crawled toward her, snapping its many jaws.

She spat blood and reached for a shard of broken stained glass beside her. It gleamed faintly, catching the Daystone's glow.

"Guess I'll improvise."



As the beast lunged, she jammed the glass into its mouth. The shard cracked — and something inside it answered.



A surge of light shot through Kocia's arm.

Symbols burned across her skin — runic, glowing red. The monster froze mid-lunge, its faces twisting in pain.



Kocia's pupils split into four narrow slits. Her voice came out lower, sharper.

"Mine now."



She drove her claws into its chest. Red light erupted — the monster convulsed, then exploded into a rain of embers and mist.



When the light faded, Kocia stood alone, panting, her tail flicking.

In her hand was a new weapon — the melted fusion of her sword and the Daystone shard, now a crimson, curved blade humming with heat. The runes on her arm still glowed faintly.



She examined it, smirked, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Alright, new toy. Let's see what you can do."



As she walked away, the last fragments of the monster drifted upward, whispering her new name —

"Redfang."

 

[Blue burrowing critter]

The Silent Huntress



The forest was dead long before she arrived.

Nothing sang. Nothing dared.

Only the wind whistled through hollow trunks — a thousand wooden throats whispering the same word: hungry.



Kocia Pierdocia stepped between the roots, her boots sinking into the moss. The mist clung to her legs like fingers. Her cat's eyes glowed faint amber, cutting through the dark. She said nothing. She never did.



Around her neck, a cracked pendant faintly pulsed — a shard of Daystone reacting to something ahead.



A heartbeat. Not hers.



She found the ruin buried beneath the trees — a forgotten temple, swallowed by bark and stone.

Inside, the air shimmered. The Daystone's hum deepened, low and alive.

Something was awake.



The walls were carved with ancient depictions of hunters kneeling before a radiant figure — but where the figure's face should have been, the carvings had been clawed out.

Something large had hated the light.



Then came the sound — slow, dragging steps. Wet. Heavy.

A shape emerged from the dark — The Rooted King, a corpse crowned with branches, its ribcage split open like a shrine, inside which burned a faint Daystone core.



Its jaw moved, wood creaking, flesh whispering,

but no words came — only a scream of wind and sap.



Kocia's tail flicked once. She raised her blade.



The Rooted King struck first, its arm unfolding into a mass of roots and bone. Kocia rolled under it, slashing upward. Her blade bit deep, releasing black ichor that hissed when it touched the ground.



She moved with precision — silent, swift, deadly.

No battle cries. Only breath. Only rhythm.

Strike, dodge, leap — the dance of the Red Hunter.



But the Rooted King was ancient and cunning. It drove its roots into the walls, warping the temple around her. Pillars cracked and the ceiling fell. A root impaled her side, lifting her off the ground.



For the first time, she gasped. Blood darkened her red scarf.

The creature leaned close — the Daystone core inside its ribs pulsing like a heart.

Her eyes locked on it. She reached for her fallen sword, just out of reach.



Then the pendant at her neck cracked open.



Light spilled out — red, searing. Her blood hissed as it touched it. She tore the root from her side and thrust her hand into the creature's chest.

The Daystone answered.



A surge of energy scorched the roots. The temple lit up like dawn.

The Rooted King screamed as it split apart from the inside, fragments dissolving into ash and petals.



When the light faded, Kocia stood alone in the ruins.

Her wound was gone.

Her hand now bore a faint, glowing sigil shaped like a branching tree.





Outside, the forest was silent again.

She stepped into the rain, eyes half-closed, the sigil still burning faintly beneath her glove.

Lightning flickered — for an instant, her shadow stretched tall and crowned with branches.



Then it was gone.

And so was she.