Monster Hunter 1. Prologue

This is a rewrite of my previous prologue. While I was drafting the story in writing, I realized that a noob-to-pro story won't cut it, since the Monster Hunter fan fiction library is full of such stories. So, I have rewritten the entire story, and now I have updated the prologue.

Author's Note: Well, hello there. What you are about to read is my attempt at writing a fan fiction that mashes together all the Monster Hunter games into a single universe. The third generation games (at the time of writing, Monster Hunter Tri and Monster Hunter Portable 3rd) lack the creatures from previous games (not Monster Hunter Frontier, since I haven't played that). Some of you veteran hunters might remember the 'wall' Yian Kut-ku, or the colossal Lao Shan Lung, or the incredibly irritating Plesioth. After all, after numerous bites/fireballs/hipchecks/bum rushes, it is hard to forget the monsters we have learnt to hate/love. So, when I got my hands on a copy of MHP3rd, I was quite taken aback – where were the Velociprey, the Hermitaurs, the Cephalos? In fact, where are all the Carapaceons? I was rather disappointed that Capcom had decided to leave out some of the monsters from previous games, but… I'm not complaining, my favourite wyverns Tigrex and Nargacuga are in it (plus they have subspecies! Ace!) and a new class of monsters, the Fanged Wyverns, have appeared (although it consists of one monster only) and Akantor and Ukanlos, the two most badass wyverns in the history of the world, still exist even though the former doesn't have any Gravios to eat anymore… Okay, getting off topic. Anyways, enjoy the story. I'm surprised you're still reading this A/N, considering how long it is. Without further ado, I present to you…

**I, ZEPHYR**

_A Monster Hunter Fan Fiction_

_Disclaimer: Monster Hunter belongs to Capcom. The author only lays claim to the written text and original characters that do not appear in the actual games._

"Can't be all that far away now…"

A lone hunter clad in Rathalos Armour sprinted through the dense forest, a sense of urgency tugging at his mind._Dammit__, __I__should__be__in__the__village__now__! I can't let myself be caught!_

The hunter cursed inwardly at himself. If only he was better at reading maps! He had the distinct feeling that he had been walking in circles since he had stepped foot in this damned forest. His stomach was already grumbling in hunger, but he forced the feeling down – there were more important things than filling his stomach at the moment.

"Now, let's see…" The hunter glanced up at the sky, which was slowly but steadily darkening. "Am I going in the right direction?"

He unstrapped a map that was attached to his belt and unfurled it gingerly, stopping his sprint to look at the map. "According to the map, I should be…" He placed his finger on a part of the map he was certain he was at. "Here!" he said confidently. "So I guess I should go… that way?"

The hunter scratched his head in confusion as he pointed his finger in the direction of a small stream that flowed through the river. "Huh? But… I came from in there…" A vein popped in his head – groaning in irritation, he crumpled up the map and tossed it on the ground angrily.

"Screw this!" he yelled angrily. "I've been walking in damn circles all day long! When am I gonna reach the damn village?"

He sighed in exasperation, sitting down on a conveniently placed rock. The village was located fairly inland, and according to the boatmen that had dropped him off at the shoreline earlier (_much__earlier__ – __he__realized__that__he__had__been__stumbling__around__the__forest__for__half__a__day__now_), at the edge of the forest. But from what he could see, the forest seemed to go on forever.

The hunter's stomach growled in protest, and he was reminded of how hungry he was. Now, the skies was getting darker, and he still hadn't eaten anything besides the meagre breakfast he had wolfed down in the transportation ship that sent him here. Due to the wild monsoon weather, the transportation ship that was travelling to Ryudo from his homeland had been forced to stop at the northern area of the Ryudo Bridge – a land bridge that connected two continents. Instead of waiting for the weather to calm down, he had taken a chance and decided to walk to Ryudo, which was several miles from the north.

The area surrounding Ryudo Village was filled with monsters – after all, the village was built at the connecting point of two continents, making hunters flock to the village to slay some of the wildlife. Jaggi, Velociprey, Conga, Bullfango – loads of highly territorial monsters roamed the area, and he had little protection besides his armour and his sword.

With a sense of pride, he unsheathed his sword and did a quick check. It was still in perfect condition, and looked beautiful – almost _too _beautiful to be a sword. It was crafted by one of the most talented smiths in his home village... He sighed, feeling a wave of nostalgia drift over him. He yawned suddenly and stretched his back, briefly considering spending the night in the forest.

Ignoring his aching muscles, he stood back up and continued walking. No, he had to reach the village by nightfall! _If I dawdle for even half an hour, it's the end for me..._

His eyes narrowed in determination. He would escape. He would never go back. He would forge a new identity in Ryudo, and start over. He would escape his horrific past, and enter a shining future... He was sure of it. At least for now.

Fifteen long, dreary minutes passed by as the hunter walked through the forest, avoiding the Bullfango he met along the way (the boars had poor eyesight, so he could easily sneak past them) and ignoring the herds of Mosswine that were peacefully grazing on mushrooms. Fifteen more minutes passed by… and he was forced to acknowledge the fact that he was _lost_.

"I'm lost…" The hunter murmured, panic entering his voice. What if he couldn't find the village in time? He would almost certainly die out here – he was too hungry to fight and too tired to run, so the fauna would probably eat him alive if he got sloppy. And he had to get away from... from _him. _

"Dammit, it should be getting late now," he said, speeding up his pace. A brief sense of panic rolled through his mind, making his heart rate double–

As he pondered over which direction led to the village, a colossal roar echoed throughout the forest. The hunter flinched and almost lost his balance in shock. His face lit up in horror and recognition, his eyes wide open and filled with terror. He almost began hyperventilating, but forced himself to stay calm and ran, his greaves thumping on the ground.

_Shit! He's here! Damn it, damn it..._

But the hunter knew that in a forest with so much wildlife, when a large monster was in the area, most of the other monsters would try to escape it. After all, no one wants to be dinner for a wyvern. And when monsters run…

The ground began to quake slightly, then it started shaking violently.

The hunter's blue eyes widened in fear as he glanced back. "STAMPEDE!"

A herd of fleeing Bullfango tore through the plantlife as they charged blindly, desperate to get as far away from the large monster as they could. The hunter dove for cover, rolling behind a large rock that shielded him from the charging boars. The Bullfango didn't even seem to notice him as they charged off, followed by terrified Mosswine. Several Jaggi and Velociprey ran past, completely ignorant of the fact that they were mortal enemies that were always battling for territory.

The roar repeated, this time sounding much closer. The hunter gasped in fear, aware that he would be easy to spot due to the fact that his long sword probably stuck out from the rock like a sore thumb.

He flinched as a Conga leaped over the rock, panting heavily as though it had run for miles. Several other Conga followed suit, every single one of them fearing for their lives. He knew exactly what the roar belonged to – and he didn't like it one bit. His heart began to beat even faster, and adrenaline began pumping through his veins, granting him the energy for the inevitable dash for escape. He bit his lip uncertainly, as an unfamiliar feeling crept up his body.

_Oh, I'm scared._

The earth shook as several heavy footsteps sounded throughout the forest. The hunter could almost hear the sound of the wyvern's guttural breathing – it couldn't be far away. He prayed that it would not see him, despite the fact that his longsword was like a flag saying "I'm over here, come and get me".

The footsteps stopped, just behind him. The hunter could smell flesh and blood, and guessed that the wyvern's last meal hadn't been too long ago. He could hear the wyvern sniffing the air, as though trying to locate something…

He heard a brief snort, the wyvern equivalent of a chuckle, and he instantly knew he had been discovered.

Swearing under his breath, he dived away from the rock he once hid under as a gigantic claw smashed it to smithereens. He narrowly evaded the attack, but the wind caused by the smash still sent him flying off into the forest. In a heartbeat, the hunter had rolled to his feet and ran for his life, a sudden rush of adrenaline flowing into his veins.

The wyvern roared an ear-splitting challenge and the hunter was forced to cover his ears to blot out the sound. His actions proved futile, however – the sound rattled through his brains, and stars began to dance in front of his eyes.

To his relief, the wyvern ceased its roar – but now it began to run in its direction. The hunter stared at the beast in terror as he tried to recover from the roar. it had a hulking, muscled body with a strong, leathery hide. It had a huge tail that swung around when it walked, knocking down any trees that hadn't fallen down in its wake. It had tiny forearms that were presumably useless for almost anything, but it also had huge, strong legs with claws that could rip a hunter in half. It had a long snout, and a chin that was covered in small bumps, making its face resemble a pickle – but what scared the hunter the most was its teeth. Jagged, serrated teeth lined its jaws, stained with the blood of many an unfortunate monster and hunter unlucky enough to stray upon it. Its eyes gazed upon its prey mercilessly, almost gleefully as drool dripped out of its mouth. This wyvern had two crossing scars over its face, the reminders of a horrible battle, many years ago. He knew exactly why there was an 'X'-shaped scar on this brute's face, and he wished he didn't know. Hungrily, the wyvern opened its jaws wide and snapped at him.

The hunter recovered from the roar just in time to roll out of the way. The wyvern's teeth met only thin air, clashing against each other with a loud _clack__!_ The hunter thanked his lucky stars as he ran, pushing his already worn-out muscles to their absolute limits. The mysterious wyvern was unfazed, however, and growled angrily as it chased after him, wanting to snap up the hunter and end his life properly this time.

His lungs burned, his legs flared in pain, but he forced every single ounce of strength he had left into a dive. The wyvern snarled as it snapped at him, trying to grab the hunter in its jaws, but it failed and toppled over onto the forest floor (flattening a clump of unfortunate plants) in what the hunter would have deemed a hilarious maneuver, had he not been in this sticky situation.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" the hunter thought, his mind too spliced to think coherently, and all thoughts came out as swears.

The hunter stood up wearily, his strength waning and his legs ready to give out under him. He knew he only had the strength left for one attack – a course of action that would most probably kill him – but looking at his current situation, he realized that he had little choice. Mentally berating himself for letting himself fall into this situation, he unsheathed his sword. The sword's edge gleamed under the sunlight that filtered in through the canopy, as though eager to perform well. The wyvern snarled angrily as it struggled to get up, its utter rage causing it to flail about on the ground in its attempts to get up.

_You can do it! I know you can!_

The hunter blinked in surprise. That sentence had come out of nowhere, as a single, feminine voice in his mind. _Ah, of course,_ thought the hunter, allowing himself a brief smile. Another old memory... that _he _had taken away from him. His mind blazed in an inferno of rage suddenly, and for that moment, every single cell in his body screamed for vengeance, for blood to be spilt, for justice to be enacted!

Without any thought for his own safety, the hunter lunged forward onto the prone wyvern, his long sword glowing with a bright red aura, and began a combo he had learnt since he was a child. He fluidly chained slashes together, and with every strike, more of the wyvern's blood was splashed onto the forest floor and the sword seemed to go brighter with every slash–

With a savage cry that would've put an Elder Dragon to shame, the hunter whirled around with his sword, ready to deal the final blow of the combo. The sword glowed brightly for a split second, and he slashed the brute wyvern with all of his strength. The wyvern whimpered in pain as the blade sliced through its hide, making copious amounts of blood leak out.

It stood up almost instantly, the hunter hopping backwards warily, as large amounts of blood was pumped into its muscles, making them swell and appear bright red. Several battle scars were revealed as its huge muscles stretched its skin. The hunter's eyes widened in surprise as the wyvern raised its mighty head and roared.

To say that he was deafened would be an understatement. The hunter couldn't even scream as he let go of his sword and fell to the ground, his vision fuzzy and his limbs unresponsive. His hearing buzzed, and his world was plunged into silence.

Putting his deafness aside for the moment, he dodged out of the way of a pounce _(__how__the__hell__could__something__that__big__leap__six__feet__into__the__air__?)_ and sheathed his weapon. He knew that he could make a break for it now, but he also knew that the wyvern would probably have little trouble chasing him down.

The wyvern growled and lunged at him, rapidly losing patience as its hunger began to act up. The hunter scrambled to his feet and ran, ignoring the stitch in his side and the beads of sweat rolling down his face as he sprinted through the undergrowth with energy given by adrenaline. He could feel the footsteps of the wyvern, shaking the very earth as it sought to devour him, smashing past trees as though they were toothpicks.

He ran in this manner for several minutes, the buzzing in his ears never fading away. The hunter panted in pain – the stitch in his side was flaring up painfully, and he was almost faint with exhaustion. Even worse, the wyvern barely seemed fazed by the numerous cuts that covered its belly, as though being slashed all over and having its blood everywhere was a daily occurrence. The hunter cursed. He should've known better than to piss it off!

His hearing returned to him suddenly, and he almost tripped and fell in surprise. Recovering his balance quickly, he continued his run, turning his head back in surprise – the wyvern's footsteps had stopped!

The wyvern was looking at the sky angrily, as though something in the air had angered it. The hunter's eyes followed its gaze, scanning the sky for anything worth noticing. He could see a winged red silhouette, circling in the skies above – shadow he _absolutely _recognized.

_Oh, crap... A Rathalos!_

He could hear a roar from the skies above, a proud roar of challenge from the king of the skies. In response, the wyvern bellowed a reply, and the hunter was forced to cover his ears again, lest he be deafened for a second time. _I'm screwed! A Rathalos and this damned brute wyvern at the same time, and I don't have a damn idea which way the town is!_

A drop of cold water splashed onto his nose, and the hunter blinked in surprise. The drop was followed by dozens of other drops, and before long the sky was pouring with rain. The wyvern looked to the sky furiously, eyes fixated on the Rathalos.

The hunter slowly tiptoed away from the wyvern – it was apparently so focused on the Rathalos it barely noticed him. He painstakingly crept away, walking slowly away from the wyvern...

_SNAP. _

Hearing the sound of a tree branch snapping, the wyvern turned to him in surprise. Its eyes blazed with killer intent, and its mouth crackled with a mysterious black-and-crimson energy.

_Dragonbreath! _The hunter had heard of people who were hit by Dragonbreath – they had the metal parts of their armour magnetized, and resulted in magnetic attraction so bad, most of their weapons were attracted to their own armour, making them hard to wield properly. He knew what would happen to him if this wyvern hit him with Dragonbreath, and it was not going to be pretty. The hunter took a step back, but slipped on the wet ground and fell to the ground, rain pouring all over his body. He tried to climb back up to his feet, only to realise to his horror that his legs were frozen in terror. In fact, his whole body was trembling, and his heart pounded so furiously he thought the Rathalos could hear it.

He could only watched as the wyvern inhaled, and breathed out a stream of crimson-black energy. The energy washed over him, and his mind exploded in pain, his entire past being replayed in half a second...

Then, everything went blank.

A/N: Review, would you kindly?

Please point out any typos, grammatical mistakes of out-of-place sentences. Yeah, I need a beta reader :\

And thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 1: I, Zephyr

**I, ZEPHYR**

_A Monster Hunter Fan Fiction_

_Disclaimer: Monster Hunter belongs to Capcom. The author only lays claim to the written text and original characters that do not appear in the actual games._

_I edited the first chapter, if you haven't read it yet._

* * *

><p><em>You who is like the wind, always trying to run... thinking that freedom is yours to have. It really isn't that simple, child...<em>

* * *

><p>Escape. It was all he had ever dreamed of, ever since he was a mere little child. Chained to a life of hatred, living for nothing other than revenge – he had performed horrible, wicked things, all the while thinking that he was doing them of his own free will, when in actuality he was being manipulated like clay in a potter's hands, guided by invisible puppet-strings to dance to the master's will. He had never actually done anything of his own free will...<p>

But that was ending now. That life of pain and hatred and revenge, it was leaving him. The heartstrings of his previous life were being severed, one by one, and with every snip of the scissors of karma, he felt rejuvenated by the liberation he felt now. And yet, here he stood, in front of the mirror of fate, every ripple along the sheet of glass reflecting yet another memory. He could see his face staring back at him, his eyes blankly looking over his past. Every shameful sin he had committed, he could see – but then, there were a few memories that made him smile.

Most of them involved her.

Then, he saw _him_ – that wretched son of a bitch, the one that had played him like a harp, pulling every string that he could just for fun. He suddenly felt himself go berserk, every muscle in his body screaming for his blood, for _death, _for him to rot in the depths of hell for eternity. _Him! _He was glaring at him coldly, even through the mirror...

"_I chose you for a reason, Zephyr."_

With that hateful voice, he could take it no longer. With a cry that unleashed years of pent-up hatred, he smashed his fist into the mirror as hard as he could, ignoring the pain that shot up his fist. The memories were blurring dangerously, vanishing like a thin mist into nothingness as cracks cobwebbed out from the impact. Shards of glass rained down onto him, cutting him in a million places, but he didn't care. _That bastard... he must pay! He _will _pay for his sins, I swear!_

The memories – those fears, those regrets, those tears, the blood on his hands – they were all swept away one by one, splintering into tiny particles and swirling around him as though they had minds of their own. He felt a soothing calm enter him, and he slowly calmed down, suddenly feeling very tired and lethargic. With little more than a yawn, he curled up and drifted off to his first peaceful sleep in many years, feeling nothing more than emptiness in his mind.

* * *

><p>Reyn Theadrai was <em>not <em>in a jolly mood.

As the huntress clad in pink, metallic-looking scaly armor stomped through the busy hunter's district of Ryudo Village, the crowds of hunters and civilians alike wisely stepped out of the way, not wanting to get in the way of the fuming hunter. One could practically see the clouds of steam billowing out of her helmet, her angry face contrasting against her Pink Rathian armor. Reyn was somewhat well-known among hunters as 'the gunner with attitude', and this was evidenced in the way she kicked an innocent Felyne out of the way as she went on her less-than-merry way. The Felyne was later discovered two hundred yards away, buried in scaffolding, but that is besides the point at the moment. The huntress was a horrible person to deal with when she lost her temper, which was unfortunately not an uncommon occurrence. There were easily over a thousand hunters in the entire district, plus several dozen Wyverian blacksmiths busy trying to sell their latest creations and merchant advertising their wares, but none of them were daring enough to stand in her way.

_Smart choice, _she thought with a growl. If anyone tried to waste her time or prevent her from going to the local Guild tower, she would make sure they spent the rest of their lives in a hospital bed (and it wouldn't be the first time either). "She's mad," she could hear people gossiping around her. "Let's stay out of her way." _Fine! That way I'll get to the hall faster. _Reyn could give a rat's ass about what people thought of her. _Let them have their own fun._

After a fairly uninterrupted hike (and two hospitalized vendors), the huntress reached the guild tower. It was a grand sight indeed, displaying the Guild's splendor in the form of a huge stone building several stories tall, easily dwarfing the other structures in the village. It was big enough to contain all the Guild pencil-pushers' offices and at the same time feed the masses of hungry hunters in the village, and at the very top of the building a large flag bearing the emblem of the Hunter's Guild was displayed proudly, flapping in the cool evening breeze. It was magnificent enough to make newly-promoted hunters gape in awe for several minutes, but Reyn had already seen the building hundreds of times over the course of her career and was not here for sightseeing. The entrance of the Guild tower, a large pair of wooden doors, was guarded by two knights in the ceremonial uniform of the Guild. They had rapiers, but they were no match for hunters if alone – the Guild Corps, as they were called, had strength only in large numbers, although some of the more high-ranking ones were equipped with advanced weaponry and could actually fight back.

This all ran through Reyn's mind in about half a second as she walked over to the entrance. The guards paled visibly and opened the doors quickly and without hesitation – Reyn was famous for beating up Guild knights when they got in her way when she was in a bad mood, and she supposed these two guards were smart enough to not follow in the steps of their forcibly-retired colleagues. With an evil grin that turned the guards' faces as white as ghosts, she entered the Guild tower.

The smell of cheap liquor and well-done steaks hit her nose immediately, almost making her recoil physically as she entered the building. The ground floor of the Guild tower was also the biggest tavern in the village, comfortably seating up to a hundred hunters while many sat at the numerous bars, chatting and telling tales and arm-wrestling and various other activities. Guild-hired waitresses and Felynes were running everywhere, working hard to make sure the hunters got their meals and beverages on time. Ryudo Village was a hunting hub, located in an auspicious location to the far east of the continent and having monster-friendly mild weather, and this was evidenced by the sheer amount of hunters in the room. Armors of all shapes, colors and sizes were mounted on the walls, some of them dedicated to certain hunters, and alongside them were interesting trinkets – monster bones, fossils, even the occasional mounted head of a Velocidrome or Tigrex and even astonishing things, like fangs the size of small wyverns and Daimyo Hermitaur pincers.

"It's rush hour," Reyn muttered under her breath. These hunters were here to have food before heading out on their night hunts, but she wasn't very hungry at the moment. The events that had happened earlier today had done nothing to help her appetite.

Shaking her head to focus on the task at hand, her eyes darted to the far end of the hall, where a flight of fancy-looking stairs were located. There were three guards surrounding the stairs, chatting amongst each other without a care in the world. That changed when Reyn pushed past them to go up the stairs, shoving one of them to the floor with a pre-emptive strike.

"Halt!" One knight shouted as bravely as he could muster, drawing his rapier quickly, but he was paralyzed by the glare of the far superior huntress. Her eyes were burning with seething rage, and her hands were on the handle of the bowgun that was slung over her back – that was enough to make the guards stop in their tracks.

"_Don't get in my way," _Reyn warned with a growl, and the knights were smart enough to not pursue the hunter as she disappeared up the stairs. There were other guards upstairs, they could deal with it.

As she ascended, she passed by several floors, the lowest floor containing nothing more than Guild-hired pencil-pushers hard at work. The second floor was filled with people shouting 'copy!' at each other and the smell of burning cigars, and by the time she reached the third floor she had stopped caring and decided to focus on getting to the highest floor, the office of Far-East Guild Master Bloodhart.

Lord Bloodhart was practicing his calligraphy on a piece of parchment. He was about to make an elegant stroke that would finish up his work of art, but when his door swung open and the cries of injured guards he jumped and the last stroke went awry, the ink splattering all over the parchment messily. It would have been hilarious if he had not spent two hours on that particular piece.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, looking at the huntress clad in Rathian Heart armor angrily. His mustache jumped up and down excitedly as he spoke, giving Reyn the impression that he was wearing two lively leeches on his face. It was amusing to think of, but she had more important things to do at the moment.

"Bloodhart," she growled, not bothering to use formalities. "How nice to see you drawing while us hunters are fighting in the field to feed your sorry ass."

She admitted, that had been a little overboard. Bloodhart was a good, upstanding man who was free from corruption and other immoral activities most politicians are involved in. Thankfully, the man was used to Reyn randomly busting through his door to complain about some random matter she found to be important, so he barely twitched a muscle.

"Reyn, that was the fifth door you busted through this month, and we're beginning to run out of guards willing to guard my office," Bloodhart sighed, putting a palm to his face in frustration. "And I'm not drawing, this is calligraphy. It's an art that requires years of practice to master. Now, why don't you take a seat and calm down so you can explain what frivolous nonsense you're about to spout next."

The huntress groaned, but sat down on the seat on the opposite side of his table, facing him defiantly. It was slightly uncomfortable sitting with her armor on – the scales and chainmail dug into her butt – but she decided to tolerate it for now. "Alright, good," Bloodhart said calmly, rolling up the parchment and tossing it into the bin with a pained expression on his face. "Now, what is it you wish to discuss?"

Reyn liked how Bloodhart was smart enough to get straight to the point instead of small talking. "We need to ban hunting in the Ryudo area for now."

"What?" Bloodhart had a positively incredulous look on his face. His mustache was doing the cha-cha on his upper lip. "What the hell for?"

"I found a hunter about two hours ago, in the forest. I was lost, but I suppose that was a lucky day for the hunter... he was out cold, and from the Jaggis surrounding him I guess he had been out for awhile."

"Good. Please continue."

"I scared them off and rescued the hunter, deciding to abandon my quest to save his life... then I found out several things. One, the hunter's Rathalos armor had a rotting smell, a smell usually related to the dragon element. And..." her voice trailed off as she shuddered in recollection of what she had seen, prompting Bloodhart to lean forward and ask "Then what?"

"There were dozens of carcasses littered everywhere... Aptonoths mostly, but I saw a dead Congalala and Dobolbelk too... they had massive chunks taken out of them, then were left there to rot. I saw signs of a battle too, like blood splattered all over the place that was situated far from the dead monsters. And only one monster I know has the capability to inflict dragon-elemented attacks and take such massive chunks of flesh off of so many monsters at once..."

Bloodhart leaned back in his seat with a disturbed expression on his face. "Deviljho."

* * *

><p>There was a dull throbbing in his head, as though a Shakalaka was beating a tribal drum in his mind happily. He tried to sit up, but a lance of pain shot through his skull like a gunlance shell and forced him to stay down, making him yelp loudly. <em>Ugh... what happened? Where am I?<em>

He opened his eyes blearily, his vision slowly focusing and allowing him to see clearly. The light of the oil lamp above him shone into his eyes, forcing him to squint his eyes to block out the light. His head hurt, as though someone had slammed a ten-ton hammer into the back of his head, or he had knocked back one too many mugs of beer last night. A wave of nausea rolled into him as he tried to sit up again, making him groan in frustration. He couldn't move his limbs, as though they had been detached from him. He closed his eyes again, deciding to go back to sleep...

"Zephyr? Are you awake?"

So much for trying to sleep. He opened his eyes again, looking to his right where the voice had originated from, finding a male human sitting on a stool next to him. He was wearing a white robe and had thick-rimmed spectacles, and had numerous test tubes containing dubious substances strapped to his belt. _A doctor? _A room. Heavy drapery, for some reason. White sheets. A hospital? "Argh, my head. Where am I?"

Several possible answers shot through his mind, the answer _torture chamber _freaking him out slightly, but he lay on the bed for now, waiting patiently for an answer. Not like he could move anyway.

"First things first, Zephyr. Say aahhh..."

He opened his mouth wide as the doctor poured something bittersweet down his throat. After he finished gulping down the potion, he felt the throbbing in his mind subside and his mind clear up a bit, as though the fog had been blown away from his mind. He could think clearly now, and noticed a sweet aftertaste lingering in his mouth. He tried to get up again, and although he could think without feeling dizzy now, his mind was still as blank as fresh parchment. That, and he couldn't move at all. His limbs were restrained by straps that looked as firm now as they would ever be. They were tight as hell too, almost to the point of cutting off his blood circulation. He began struggling to free himself, tugging on the straps desperately.

"Let me go! Damn it!" he shouted furiously, straining himself against the straps to no avail. The damn things could have been made out of steel for all he knew. The doctor watched with an amused expression on his face as he watched him wriggle in the bed, trying to escape.

"It's no use, boy," the doctor said with a grin despite his patient's predicament. "Those straps were made out of Diablos hide – good luck trying to break them. Good thing they're working, we spent a fortune on those..."

_Diablos? _He thought, searching his mind. _Where have a heard that name before?_

Nothing came to him. Nothing at all. His mind was completely empty.

"Screw this," he muttered in defeat as he ceased his struggle. _Why can't I remember...?_

"I'm sure you have plenty of questions." The doctor seemed accustomed to patients like him,, judging by his calm tone. "First of all, my name is Linus, and I am a doctor in the Ryudo Hunter's Infirmary, which you are currently in if you haven't realized yet."

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked, only half joking.

Linus chuckled. "Is right. Nah, I'm here to answer any questions you might have. Which I'm certain you have plenty of, considering how Miss Reyn found you... anyway, ask away."

To be honest, he couldn't think of much to ask. "Where the hell am I?"

"You're in Ryudo Village." The doctor's expression changed, as though he was about to recite a speech he had already used hundreds of times. "A large village, situated in the far east of the continent, where two continents collide. A hunter's paradise, especially considering the masses of monsters that frequent this area..."

_Hunter. _The single word stirred up a small whirlwind of emotions within him. _Nervousness. Fear. Pride. Sorrow. Anger. Relief._

"Oh, and this village was founded by the Guild to take advantage of the lovely wildlife here. This place has a temperate climate, so plenty of herbivores come here to feed during the harsh weather in other regions." The doctor suddenly began staring at him with a steady glare, unnerving him quite a bit – _that gaze reminds me of somebody..._

"Miss Reyn found you in the wilds, about... five hours ago?" Linus shrugged. "Gave me a shock when she hauled your unconscious body over to me, demanding treatment for you. She's... pretty scary when angry, you know?"

_Reyn. _"Reyn Theadrai?"

The doctor looked surprised. "Is right. You know her?"

A pause. "No."

Linus looked disappointed. "Are your memories gone?"

"How did you know?" He tried to get up, but the straps bound him firmly to his bed and he couldn't budge an inch. "Why can't I... remember?" A wave of sadness overwhelmed him for a moment, and for a moment he just lay on the bed, his eyes slowly tearing up. _I don't remember... Why?_

"Dragonblight." The doctor cleared his throat, trying to ignore the fact that his patient was about to cry. "The ailment caused by exposure to the dragon element... a rare disease indeed, only encountered by high-ranking hunters when facing an elder dragon usually. Causes temporary scrambling of brain waves and magnetism in metal armor and weapons, and in several rare cases..."

"Amnesia." His mouth spoke the words before he realized it. His head was still throbbing, but he managed to push the pain to the back of his mind – he had more important things to think of at the moment.

"Is right." The doctor looked at him strangely. "How odd, though – no known monster near Ryudo has the dragon element..."

He ignored the doctor as he descended into ramblings and searched the deep reaches of his soul. _What is my name...?_

"Zephyr Seraph is your name, in case you're wondering," Linus revealed as though he could read minds. "Weird name, but oh well... I saw it on your Guild Card..."

_Zephyr Seraph._ "I, Zephyr..." he murmured to himself, staring at the ceiling blankly. The name didn't seem to ring any bells – although he doubted there were any bells in the empty expanse of his mind anyway. A chill ran down his spine suddenly, causing him to shudder in sudden fear. _Zephyr... _was it really his name? It made him tremble in his skin, for some reason... but then, the feeling was gone in a flash, and he accepted the name. _Zephyr. That's me._

A sudden flood of emotions rushed into him, making him gasp as the veritable hurricane of feelings and thoughts bombarded him relentlessly. _Hope. Defiance. Despair. Happiness. Weariness. Guilt. _All these feelings, and many more, attacked him like a starved Jaggi pack, rendering him unable to think...

_Hatred. _

The feeling made his skin crawl for a moment. Rage began rushing into his mind, but instead of letting the sudden feeling take over he quickly pushed it back, fighting over control of his thought processes. His breathing grew ragged for a moment as he struggled to suppress the nearly uncontrollable killing intent swelling within him, dread filling him as he thought of the consequences of his rage. Images flashed before his eyes – dead people, wearing armor, blood splattered all over the ground...

"Zephyr?" The anger dissipated instantly when he heard Linus call him with a concerned tinge to his voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped, a little more forceful than he had intended. "Just spaced out a bit..." He tried to sound 'okay', but he was shivering in fear at the anger that had almost taken over him just moments ago. What was that hatred? Where did it come from? Why did it exist within him? When would it strike back? He _knew _it would strike again, for some unknown reason. Perhaps it was the smoldering cinders of hate that were still licking at his heart. Or the curled-up rope of dread weighing down his gut. If it tried to take over again... would he be able to suppress it again? _I just lost my memories, and all this shit is happening to me now, _he thought wearily. He briefly considering consulting the doctor about his problems, but quickly shot that idea down. _People might think I'm a psycho, _Zephyr convinced himself. He had a distrustful feeling towards the doctor – hell, towards people in general – but he pushed it away, telling himself that it was a side-effect of the... whatever blight it was called.

"Get some rest, boy," Linus said with a grin, standing up. "Sleeping–"

"A natural state of unconsciousness, a heightened state of rejuvenation," Zephyr said almost immediately, his mouth moving by its own again. "Suspended sensory activity, muscle inactivity, and helps clear a confused mind."

Both men stared at each other with equally incredulous looks on their faces. "Is right," Linus whispered with a grin.

"How the hell do I know this shit?" Zephyr asked in confusion, not knowing how he could randomly bring out tidbits of knowledge.

"That's what we'll find out tomorrow," Linus said with a wry grin. "Tomorrow, I'll conduct some tests on you... expect some horrible tasting medicine." The doctor almost cackled, much to Zephyr's chagrin. _Great, strapped to a hospital bed and tortured by a doctor hours after losing his memories. What kind of medicine can be more bitter than my life?_

With a defeated sigh, Zephyr muttered a reply and went to sleep, his brain shutting down surprisingly quickly. Maybe he was just tired, and his memories would return after a good nap... Feeling some hope within his heart, he drifted off into unconsciousness, his body repairing itself slowly but steadily. As his mind wandered into the dark abyss of slumber, he thought he heard the distant cackle of a madman... but dismissed it as a mere figment of his imagination and fell into a dreamless, fitful sleep.

* * *

><p>AN: Review please, and tell me how horrible this was.


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