Page 1 of Hunter's Moon

LINA

The bustling Adtera bazaar thrummed with life, a riot of colors, scents, and sounds assaulting my senses. I weaved through the crush of bodies, dodging merchants hawking their wares and customers bartering with guttural tones. Giant orange fronds from a Myrcian plant trader swayed overhead, brushing my cheek with their subtle floral fragrance.

“Freshest loratun roots in the galaxy!” A grizzled Bornathi waved a twisted purple vegetable under my nose. “Plump and juicy, perfect for your evening stew!”

I waved him off politely. “No, thank you. I’m just here for Arin’s teas.”

The familiar mustiness of dried herbs and bark greeted me as I approached Arin Tal’s storefront. The round-bellied Lokvian shuffled about behind the wooden counter, his tentacles deftly scooping various blends into bags.

“Ah, Lina! Here for the doctor’s usual, I take it?” His bulbous eyes crinkled in a friendly smile.

I grinned back. “You know me too well.”

A commotion from a nearby stall drew my attention. A sharp-toothed Ghilam trader bickered animatedly with a customer, his tail lashing back and forth. Snippets of their guttural speech drifted over.

“...finest quality, I swear on my ancestors’ graves!”

“Please, even a newborn could see you’re trying to pawn off scraps!”

Chuckling under my breath, I turned back to find Arin slumped behind the counter, face frozen in a rictus of pain. My smile faded.

“Arin? Arin!” I vaulted over the counter, crouching beside him. His breaths came in ragged huffs, eyes unfocused. A dark stain blossomed across his tunic.

No, no, not like this...

“Hang on, Arin, I’ll get help!” But his gnarled hand clamped around my wrist with surprising strength.

“Run...” he wheezed, flecks of blue-green blood staining his lips. “...assassin...trap...”

His grip went slack, head lolling back. Panic clawed at my throat as I fumbled for a pulse...nothing. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting of tears.

Arin Tal, the jovial tea seller, dead on the floor of his own shop.

The clatter of overturned shelves jerked my head up. A towering, quad-armed figure garbed in black robes emerged from the back room, pouches bulging with plundered goods. Fear sluiced down my spine like ice water.

I scurried behind a tower of containers, chest heaving as I fought to control my ragged breathing. The Nerath assassin stalked towards the exit, oblivious to my presence...until a stray can clattered from my trembling hands.

Those soulless amber eyes snapped right to me.

I bolted for the door, sucking in desperate gulps of the crowded street’s thick, spice-laden air. Bodies jostled me from all sides as I plunged headlong into the churning mass of people. A powerful hand clamped around my arm, wrenching me backwards--

--and I found myself face-to-face with the assassin. Terror leached the strength from my limbs. Those merciless eyes bored into me, promising a cruel demise.

Twisting free of his grasp, I sprinted wildly through the teeming bazaar, merchants and shoppers parting before me with shouts of surprise. I chanced a look over my shoulder--the assassin shoved people aside with his massive arms, an unstoppable force slicing through the chaos in pursuit.

My foot snagged on something--the ground rushed up with brutal force. I sprawled across the hard-packed dirt, the wind knocked from my lungs. Gasping, I craned my neck just as the assassin bore down on me, arm raising for a final, fatal blow--

A massive, swinging basket of exotic fruits crashed into the assassin’s torso, knocking him sideways. Ripe, purple-skinned melons tumbled across the dusty ground, their juicy flesh splitting open. The irate merchant’s curses were lost in the cacophony of the bazaar as chaos erupted around us.

Dazed, I pushed myself up on shaky limbs only to freeze at the shock of familiarity.

As the assassin stumbled, his sleeve rode up, revealing a stark tattoo on his inner forearm. Three muscular arms clasped together in a tight triangle, their fingers interlocked. A sinuous serpent wound through the gaps, its scales gleaming with an unnatural vibrancy. My blood ran cold. The Obsidian Dawn.

What could they want with a simple tea shop?

Danger sense flaring, I snapped back to awareness and flung myself into the maelstrom of the bazaar, trying to get away. A discordant ringing split the cacophony around me. The commpad’s screen flickered to life, revealing Dr. Heylarth’s craggy, scaled face. His amber eyes narrowed with concern, the light glinting off his metallic horns. Even through the small screen, his imposing dragon-like presence made me feel safer.

“Lina! Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you for--” The elderly Mondian’s voice cut off as he took in my disheveled appearance. “What happened?”

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