What!? Why do I Deserve This? Sinder Shows off Again
Jagged arcs of electricity shot across the dark sky over the savannah in one of the most violent thunderstorms Claude had ever seen. He didn’t
care. Even as the rain poured down in torrents, he would not give up. Hidden under a magical repelling tree, he was both safe from the lightning
blasts and the rain.
“Damn it, I’m going to win this hunt. I’m tired of everyone looking down on me.”
Claude opened his backpack and placed it on the ground. From it, he revealed a steel necklace with a five-headed hydra on the end. It was a good luck
charm he’d bought from a traveling gypsy caravan, and each head was set with different colored gems. He had also purchased a new pair of heavy
combat boots, which he was wearing, and had received a yellow headband as a gift from the gypsy queen.
“I have to come home with a lightning stag or not at all,” he proclaimed, and clenched his fist. That was the only way to prove that he deserved
respect. The problem was the storm, which was making tracking nearly impossible. Claude glanced over to the left, across plains of golden grass and
sighed. The dirt was turning to mud everywhere. Nevertheless, he placed the necklace around his neck and tried to fasten it when it snapped and fell
to the ground.
He cursed under his breath and as he leaned down to retrieve the necklace, he noticed that it had fallen into the hoofprint of a lightning stag.
The main street of Deadwater was settled at the base of a plateau. Shops built of decaying wood lined the dusty road, which was treaded down
by countless horses and foot traffic. As Beau raced on, he watched a group of young ladies chatting outside a ramen store up ahead. They were probably
gazing at the trail of dust rising from the grasslands behind him.
The village edged closer, and a moment later he passed the ramen stand. The buildings began to shake because he ran so fast, and the girls clutched
their skirts as they rippled in the wind.
Beau glanced inside the store, where a weathered man attempted to walk out from behind the counter, but had to support himself because of the shaking
“What is this?” he questioned the ladies.
“I don’t know!”
Then Beau tore through main street, rattling windows and causing a few horses to strain against their ropes. If someone looked carefully, they might
have been able to catch a glimpse him in the dusty shadows.
“It’s Beau Lightfeather!” someone exclaimed.
“He’s so fast; I heard he could run down a lightning stag.”
Suddenly, Beau planted one foot in the ground, swung 90 degrees and slid to a stop next a building marked the Deadwater Tavern. As the dust settled,
he called out a name.
After a moment, a man with long, frizzy blonde hair and a camouflage shirt stepped out of the bar. Holding a glass of whisky, he approached.
“What’s going on, boy?”
“I must speak with the chief; there has been an incident on the plains in Inferno territory. We might be on the brink of war with one of our
“Sounds serious,” the man sipped some whisky. “But the chief ain’t here right now.”
Someone was always at the bar.
Then, from inside the tavern, a female voice called out.
“Tredarrow? Aren’t you coming?”
Another appeared at the door wearing a loosely fitting dress, and walked over. Placing her gloved hand tentatively on the middle-aged Tredarrow’s
shoulder, she spoke.
“You aren’t leaving us, are you? We’d be so lonely,” she cooed while leaning herself against his chest, and putting an arm around his
Beau sighed. “Well, where is the chief's adviser, then? This is kind of important.”
“Kakuzo left for Inferno territory a few days ago. He should be coming back any time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m kind of busy,” Tredarrow
stated pointedly. I have to get back to my… drinking.”
Taking the hint, Beau looked ahead and tore out of Deadwater in a sudden burst of acceleration. He would have to visit the chief at his office in the