The cool morning air, damp from the night's dew still lingering on the field of flowers outside town, gently caressed my face.

I found myself facing the northern wind slipping through a small circular hole into my room, little more than a small cupboard on the inn's side. Flocks of sheep and gaggles of geese drifted by, their lazy honks and the annoyed bleats of the sheep as their shepherd guided them across the far meadow carried on the wind. There was a knock on the door, a thin sheet of scrap wood wired together and haphazardly bolted into the clay wall. The room was cheap and small and I was the youngest, at thirteen, predetermining me to enjoy it's luxuries.

'Agarn, have you woken?' Asked a commanding voice on the other side.

'Yes, Master Holom. I'm awake.' I returned reaching for my sword I had laid on the foot of my bed and affixed it's sheath and belt around my waist, it's leather clasping over my black tunic. I pulled on a pair of black leather boots, crusted in mud for the past three days of travel and stuffed my black pants into them then laced them tight. Just as I made for the door it opened and I was greeted by the stony face of Sir Holom Tyr, First Blade of the Slayers. He was my Master and I was his apprentice.

'Did you sleep well?' Holom asked.

I glanced at the bed recalling how restless I was trying to find comfort in it's straw and string formed mattress on a frame of driftwood. I shrugged. 'Best as I could. Think I would have preferred sleeping outside.'

'Apologies, Agarn. When we get home you'll have plenty of time to rest up.'

Suddenly I found myself staring at my master. When he spoke he was always so definite. If, not when we get home. These long jobs far from the Coven, away from any support, fighting what we fight, it's never when but if we get home. I never pointed this out to him but a part of me always assumed he knew how ridiculous it was although to him, the Immortal Knight, perhaps it never occurred to him.

'It'll be awhile before we're home. I'll enjoy what I have.' I told him and he grimaced.

'I fear it'll be longer than we thought. Messenger in the night delivered some rather troublesome news. The Count has been delayed in Rosof. It seems your first time on a proper Hunt will be delayed.'

'What?' My voice suddenly cracked and I shirked back, embarrassed. I had been waiting years to attend my first Hunt, the time when an apprentice slayer journeys out with a hunting party to track down particularly dangerous monsters. I felt myself ready years ago but Master had stone-walled me until now. To have it delayed another day when it was so close hurt personally. 'Could we not just hunt the target without permission?' I asked and immediately whinged recognizing my mistake.

Holom trained his sharp eyes on me. 'You know the laws. Sure we could just go after any beast we lay eyes on but operating without the local governors approval on a Hunt of this level is begging the Thousand Seats to excommunicate our Coven.

'Yes, Master. I realize my foolishness the moment I opened my mouth.'

'Self-reflective.' Holom chuckled. 'Petr could learn from you.'

'Petr is a Second Sword, there is much I can learn from him.' I formed the words in my mouth to placate my previous arguments with Petr but Holom, unlike the other First Swords held little interest in the politics of Coven hierarchy.

'Petr is a talented slayer, his years have been long and busy, but his personality is shit. You worry too much about what others think.'

'Do I?' Perhaps I did.

Holom nodded. 'Yes, you do. It's almost like a reflex for you. Speak your mind otherwise what's the point in having one.'

I took a deep breath. 'Petr is a prissy prat more interested in vain glory than the purpose he was chosen to uphold and has almost enamored himself in the slim glory Slayers are offered believing himself to be an incarnate of Vishnurr himself when his only talent is with a sword. Now I concede his talent with a blade is remarkable that is only, I'd say, one fiftieth of the components that constitute a well-rounded slayer capable of stemming, controlling and ultimately turning back the tide of corruption, beasts and dark magic we are tasked with confronting. His particular lack of potions work and his unwillingness to co-operate with Agduhla opens a particular hole in his skill set that would be easy to exploit or get him killed when confronting a vast majority of creatures in the bestiary.'

Holom stood silent as I railed on Petr, although I recognized his achievements, and truth be told I believed myself lucky to ever be half as capable as him or half as long-lived the issues I took with the Second Sword began to nitpick and my assessment became all too personal as I commented on his habit of bedding whores or leaving behind bastard children. Though I never once brought up the root reason, he, a criminal had been thrown into the Coven to become a slayer, a profession where the life expectancy is precariously low. By the time I was done Master was smiling and laughing at my rant.

'Perhaps filter that mind of yours a little.' He said and waved for me to follow him down the inn's single hallway.

'Sorry, Master.' I felt my cheeks flush, hot and assuredly pink.

'Do not let that mind waste but also do not lay it bare. Come we have to discuss our next move with the others.'

'And what is that exactly?' I asked him excited at the prospect of taking on a job to fill in the time.

'Just busywork, I'm sure.' Holom answered groaning at the idea, I did as well already imagining the flood of job requests to rid some farmer's barn of poltergeists or poison tar-ant hills or dispel the curse of a family heirloom that was surly some junk picked up for cheap generations ago.

'I'm sure the others will be pleased with that.'

'They'll be thrilled.' Holom lead me into the inn's tavern where a motley gathering of peasants, farmers mostly, one was a blacksmith's apprentice judging by his blackened fingertips. Although there was plenty of room and few patrons all the residents of that tiny hamlet, a place called Holsted, had taken seats furthest from the southern corner. No question why, they were like a school of fish forming around a shark, or in this case a pair of slayers in the corner minding their own business the tables nearest them vacant.

'Holom, Agarn. Good of you to join us.' Elated Joseph raising his tankard as we approached. I could feel the sharp stares of the locals like knives in my back. Master had said that feeling would wane with time but it still had yet to dull.

'Joseph, Petr. How's your morning?' Holom nodded to them as he sat, one leg crossed over the other, elbows on table and relaxed. There was a casual nature to everything Master did though he was the ranking slayer among us, hell, even among First Blades his experience, age and wisdom put him far above others even rivaling the likes of our Grand Master.

'So far so good, just enjoying a good drink.' Joseph answered nursing his drink, Petr meanwhile grumbled something incoherently. For some reason the Second Sword was still dressed in his armor, cuirass, vambraces, boots, all leather all in black as was custom with slayers. His short black hair was clearly greasy from up close.

'What's wrong with you?' Holom asked though he knew the answer, he was just being polite.

'Drinking and fucking I'm sure.' I spat out without a second though and I felt my skin melt under Petr's gaze.

'Watch it kid.' The Second Sword growled. 'Even drunk I could carve you like a roast pig.'

'And if you did that I'd disembowel you from cock to brains.' Holom said casually, a smile on his face as he waved down the tavern maid. I could visibly see Petr shiver at the thought and I grew vindicated until Holom turned to me. 'And you. What did I just say?'

'Sorry, Master.' I stared at the table as the tavern maid strolled up to Holom desperately trying to keep her nerves in check in our presence. She was uncomfortable around them, that much was sure. Slayers, short-lived as they were came from all walks of life but the majority of them had criminal pasts. Many were given a choice, lose a limb, your life , maybe a life sentence, or swear fealty to a Coven and be used as a meat-shield against the monsters stalking the realm. It is a chance to live. Many chose the latter but it is not an easy life. But that choice often ends in cruel and vicious ways.

Choosing to be a slayer instead of dying at the chopping block, I can't imagine it. Die quick and cleanly at the hands of an executioner or be eviscerated by beasts only your worst nightmares could conjure. I can still recall the man who had stolen from a merchant, his name eludes me but rather than lose his hand he joined our Coven. After his training, determined by his Master as finished far before Holom suggested, they threw him into a Hunt. He was slowly melted by an arakis's acid spit. The survivors joked to me he was still alive as the arakis began to slurp up his liquefied flesh and bone. I would have lived a cripple instead.

At least he chose the life. I never did.

'What will it be, Master Slayer?' The tavern maid said meekly.

'Two plates of sausage and eggs. Two links and three eggs each please. Glass of milk for the boy and I'll take some water.' Holom nodded and smiled as the woman, thankful to get away, disappeared to fulfill his order. I wasn't particularly hungry but the milk sounded nice.

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Petr scoffed. 'A glass of fucking milk?'

'Agarn is a growing boy, he needs it.'

'Give the boy a tankard of ale and a woman with a great pair of tits. Life is too short to waste on fucking milk.'

'Just because you view the world through alcohol and cheap sex doesn't mean everyone else has to.'

'I don't pay for my women.' Petr gave a sly grin, I hated it. I wanted nothing more than smack it off his smug face.

'I don't think pity sex is any better.' I retorted.

Joseph spat his ale onto the floor and laughed so hard he wheezed.

'Don't you validate the little fucker!' Petr smacked Joseph on the back of the head.

I watched the slayer collect himself and then deliver a warm smile back at Petr.

'You need to pull that stick out of your ass. Live a little. Enjoy yourself.'

'I do enjoy myself. Beer, tits, ass and steak. Don't need much more than that.'

'No amount of tits and ass will fill that void and sour outlook on life.'

'Clearly you've never met Justine.' Petr commented and all three men at the table erupted in laughter, even Master Holom. I was utterly confused. I had no idea who this Justine lady was but clearly she was someone of repute.

'Is this how the morning is going to go?' I asked. I wasn't always all business but the itch to finally be on the Hunt was running up my back and I needed something to keep my mind of the wait. In that moment I'd take even a simple dispelling job.

'No. No, it is not.' Holom said face brightening up as he saw the tavern maid arrive with two wooden plates stacked with sausages atop a fluffy bed of eggs. There were two pieces of buttered toast on each plate. 'I didn't ask for the bread.'

'The owner said it wouldn't be complete without some toast. Meals are on the house of course.' She gave us the plates then scampered off. If I recalled correctly on the ride into the hamlet Master had mentioned he helped the inn's owner with a job many years ago. As gratitude they were offered beds and food free of charge though Petr and Joseph still had to pay for ale otherwise risk drinking the inn out of business.

'It's benefits us to foster such relations with the people we serve. Remember that Agarn as you eat food that many slayers can only dream of unable to shake their pasts from their shoulders.' Holom scooped a portion of egg onto a cut piece of sausage and shoveled it into his mouth. I did likewise thankful to have a Master like Holom.

Kind and caring, utterly thoughtful and frighteningly powerful, a master of words just as much his sword with a deep knowledge of the arcane. No one knew how old he was, some suggested he was one of the original members centuries ago when a man know as Frost formed the first Coven but that would make him the longest lived and by affect the most successful slayer to have ever lived, cause that would in turn mean he survived the Coalition of Crowns which would mean- I cut my thoughts and remembered what Holom meant.

Many slayers do not change their ways even under the thrall of a Coven. Leaving many to sleep on the streets or eat their meals from trash as they take jobs trying to make a living. It's partly the stigma of every slayer being a criminal but partially because they can not toss away the yoke that predicates them and strive for something better instead accepting the world's view of them as trash and therefore they are trash. Petr was a good example of that though at least he still had some standards.

'Vishnurr please, save me from this preachy bastard.' Petr scoffed leaning forward, elbows on the table. 'So I understand we're delayed.'

'Yes. We are.' Holom took a large bite out of his toast and chewed for an excessively long period. He paused and coughed, fist to lips preventing the food from flying out and striking Petr. 'I thought I ordered drinks.' Master got up to check on our drinks.

'Holom. Holom!' Petr called after Master but the man already disappeared beyond a set of far doors into the inn's kitchen.

There was a moment of silence and I filled my mouth with eggs and sausage. Though I welcomed the food after a long day's ride a bland quality from the lack of herbs or spices make the meal all around forgettable but it helped me focus my attention away from the two slayers staring at me.

'So...' Joseph asked me grinning. 'Is it true what they say?'

'What?' I wiped away a bit of egg stuck to my bottom lip and dove back into my food that was quickly disappearing.

'Is he as great as everyone makes him out to be?'

I shrugged. 'He's about as good as any First Blade I imagine. A great deal nicer than most.'

Joseph blew raspberry. 'Bull. You can't be a walking legend and just be average. Petr, you've hunted with Holom before. What's he like?'

I noticed Petr glance towards me then at the villagers in the inn. 'Everything you imagine and more.'

'Haha, I knew it. Agarn what's it like being apprenticed to the greatest slayer who has ever lived?'

Once again I shrugged. I didn't know what Joseph expected to hear. Holom was a mentor, a teacher, a warrior, a philosopher and like a father to me.

'If you expect me to say he's utterly cruel and mad behind closed doors I'd only disappoint you.'

Joseph booed me but I just finished my plate and saw Petr glancing in my direction again.

'By Vishnurr kid, you sorely lack imagination. Where's the entertainment?' Joseph chided me when a sudden bang on the table jumped us all as Holom returned with a stack of papers and a soft smile. He held both cups in his other hand.

'What are these?' I grabbed the stack and started leafing through them. 'Job requests?'

Master hummed confirmation at me as he sat and continued his meal while handing me my milk. I began to sort through them handing a few to Joseph and Petr who accepted with a groan.

'There's what – eighteen all-together?' Jospeh counted the ones in my hand and Petr's

'Holsted is the backwater of an already backwater region. Few slayers make it out this far unless for specific reasons.' The Second Sword replied. 'I imagine most of these jobs are passed onto local kids seeking gold and localized glory, dying before they've even gotten their dicks wet. Or the oddball traveler passing through.'

'You're probably right. Look at this one.' Joseph held up one request, it's writing so faded as to barely make out what it said. 'Been hung in the sun so long the damn ink has faded.'

'All simple work.' I said getting to the bottom of my stack.

'Same.' Joseph slapped his papers down and took another drink of his ale.

We all noticed Petr lingering on the last request of his stack. 'Petr?' I asked the man, his eyes staring at the fresh ink. The Second Sword tossed the request onto the table for us all to see. My heart stopped as I read “Horicour spotted.”

'Good find, isn't it?' Holom smacked his lips then sipped his water. 'Never thought I would see a request for a horicour out here.'

'Money's good.' Petr pointed to the large two thousand reward written with ample real estate on the request. 'Quick and easy job. Two hundred to each of us, extra towards the Count's request. Whatever is left goes to the coven.'

'Two thousand is an awful lot.' I commented

'Not when you consider the damage even a single horicour can do to a town's fields.' Joseph stated eyeing me as though I was unaware of this.

Horicour, the name would strike fear and panic in the hearts of many slayers but to Holom and Petr and the seasoned Joseph, who was said to be closing in on the rank of Third Shield, the creature was a cake walk.

Horicourii exist purely to spread like locusts. Partial belief persists that they're magical mutations of a species of salamander far to the east but investigations into and the motivation to do so were sorely lacking but the bestiary, a tome filled by hundreds of slayers and witches of the coven over generations detailed everything we needed to know. Carnivorous six limbed creature about the size of a large dog, thin with a dart shaped head, two rows of razor sharp teeth, six eyes, three on either side in the shape of a triangle. Has a penchant for climbing trees and ambushing it's victims.

Although easy to fight, Horicourii have peculiar nesting habits. They build their nests out of living creatures. Not corpses, living, breathing, paralyzed people, their burrow lined with them like bedding. The reason for this is as it's asexual underneath a horicour's skin are dozens of tiny egg sacks filled with it's young.

During birthing season the skin cracks open as the young, twice the size of a tadpole, eat their way through, then drop into the meat pie in the ground and begin to feed on the living victim's. From there adolescence takes only a few days at which point they develop into omnivores and tend to devour crop field after crop field before reaching maturity by then, the adults revert back to being carnivores and repeat the process often migrating hundreds of miles to spread out, for when food is scarce they often turn to cannibalism.

What's makes horicour particularly interesting is their natural production of a paralyzing venom in their bite. Although their teeth could easily shred the average man's leather armor instead they paralyze the victim and add them to the pile.

Strange, brutal yet fascinating creatures. I never faced one which was why the prospect excited me so.

'Can we afford to take on a fight of this level?' I asked, already recognizing how ridiculous the question seemed in the presence of three talented slayers.

'We can. You will not be joining us.' Holom said and I nearly turned on him, furious to be so outright rejected.

'Why Master?' I tried to hide my disappointment and anger but could tell my tone was terse and unapologetic despite myself.

'Your efforts will be focused elsewhere.'

'Elsewhere? What could be more important than a horicour in a place like this?' I hissed, Holom scowled and produced another request from his pocket that he had folded neatly twice over. He handed it to me and I scoffed at what it asked.

'A goblin?' I reread the request thrice each time growing more jaded by the implication that a goblin was worthy of my talents. I knew I could hunt, I knew I could but why did Master deny me that.

Petr and Joseph unabashedly snickered and I shot them the dirtiest look I could muster.

'Your full efforts will go to the Count's request so until then I expect you to fulfill my orders and I order you to take care of this farmer's goblin problem.'

Goblins were simple, ugly creatures, in adulthood just larger than a human child with the intelligence of a dog. One single goblin was so utterly unimposing, unimportant and not worth my time. A good thwomp with a hammer could kill it. Why waste me?

'Master, I don't follow. If I'm ever to be ranked why deny me a chance to better myself?'

'I'm denying you nothing.'

'You're denying me a chance to learn.'

'Learn from everything you do, whether you like it or not.'

'Master I don't-'

Holom's fist slammed on the table and even the playful expressions on Petr and Joseph's faces looked as surprised as I felt. 'Agarn, enough! You will undertake this request. Perform your duties as expected to your fullest ability and learn from it or learn that you lack the smallest bit of foresight to better yourself no matter how small the opportunity. Am I understood?'

I shied away unwilling to confront that monster, the anger of Master Holom though a rare sight it was terrifying. It was never once directed towards me until that moment. 'I understand. I will fulfill your orders.'

'Good, prepare yourself. I and your two betters have a matter to discuss. Once we've finished and I have finished my breakfast I will come find you.'

'You're sending me away?' I was always involved with Holom's matters, to the extent I knew enough of inter-Coven politics that the other ranked spoke openly in front of me regarding confidential information.

'Shall I repeat myself or should I call for someone to come and escort you back to the Coven where you can reflect on that haughty opinion of yourself?'

'No, Master!' I immediately conceded. I would not be pulled off this Hunt. If it meant bearing this shame I would. I slunk back to my room feeling my betters eyes on my back, their piercing gazes sharper than the villagers eyeing me as I slipped by their tables.

The door shut behind me and I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling. I would wait but I would be ready when Master came. Yes, be ready. Though my mouth tasted sour at his slight I would not stray from my professionalism. I would be ready.