The first rank dominated the lively training grounds, actively recruiting fresh members. As unity faded, the gaze of other ranks turned towards their fellow hunters in different squads. Chaos erupted among the hunters; one didn’t need Cassia’s abilities to sense the escalating tensions in the air. The serpent had grown scales at the expense of others.
***
The arrow cut through the air, finding its mark in a piece of leather. In rapid succession, the next projectile grazed the shaft of the first. Arrows buried themselves into the target one after another, each bearing the potential for death.
Avalon, the calm archery master, tirelessly released arrows, making the bowstring whistle.
A young, fair-haired girl scrutinized his every move. To allow her a better view of the required hand positions, the warrior intentionally slowed down. Smoothly, he drew the bowstring until the wood emitted a mournful creak.
The girl nodded, lifting the longbow. With her other hand, she retrieved an arrow from the quiver, grasping it with slender fingers. Her hands trembled, and her elbow tended to lower towards the ground. Struggling with the bowstring, it slipped, scratching the inflamed skin from diligent training.
Imber raised a clenched fist, signaling for the archers to stop. Avalon, familiar with the hunters’ signals, reacted instantly. Unfortunately, Suri missed the signal, grappling with her own weapon. Imber cleared his throat, capturing her attention.
“Greetings, aer Maxat.” His words unveiled the shadow. The title of captain wasn’t bestowed upon Imber for nothing.
“Well-well, what do I see?” Maxat exclaimed, “Who would have thought that my tracker is so friendly with a third rank? If you’ve lost your way, let me remind you. Now, I’m your captain.” His voice sounded calm; his movements didn’t express aggression, but with this man, one could never be sure.
“It’s my fault,” Imber interceded for the young tracker. “I shouldn’t have troubled your people.”
Maxat smirked into Suri’s eyes, then turned to Imber. “It’s good that you admit it. So, how should we deal with it?”
In the condition Imber was in, he wouldn’t survive the wrath of the blood mage. Even the slightest movement brought him unbearable pain, and Maxat couldn’t be unaware of this.
“I thought mages aren’t bothered by such trivial matters.” Suri couldn’t hold back. “I was curious about what your people are capable of. That’s all.”
Maxat’s lips stretched into a sly smile, and his predatory gaze glinted with a mix of amusement and cunning. How effortlessly the prey fell into the trap.
“Then, I’m curious about what your people are capable of too,” Maxat said. “Well, wait.” He grasped his chin, tapping his lips with a finger. “You don’t have any. What a shame.” The colorless gaze pierced the young girl—an easy target.
“What do you want?” Suri refused to back down, well aware that the mage was provoking her.
“How can a captain turn a blind eye to his unworthy hunter boasting about his skills? I will punish scarface for my sister’s unfortunate performance with the bow.”
Imber and Avalon stood aside, seemingly impartial observers of the conversation between the mages, as if the discussion were not about them at all. Suri frowned, displeased with the turn the conversation was taking. Growing impatient with beating around the bush, Maxat exclaimed, “Just curious, how amazing are my sister’s abilities if she’s so inept with ranged weapons?” He waved his hand towards the pile of weapons stacked near Imber.
Suri felt as if she could hear Shug’s persistent warnings, but it was her imagination. Even without his grumbling, Maxat’s intentions were crystal clear, and she couldn’t reveal the truth to him. She turned away, offering no clues to the man.
“Well, if you’re so confident, why not take part in the trials? When was the last time we had fresh blood joining us?” The smile vanished from his face; he wasn’t accustomed to disobedience. “And I’ll make sure you don’t have to wait long.”
With a final glance at the girl, he turned away. After a couple of steps, he stopped and waved his hand. “Follow me.” Avalon obeyed without a word. He was in for more than punishment; torture awaited him. Maxat sought answers, and the source didn’t matter.
As the two warriors disappeared from view, Suri turned anxiously to Imber. But, she was the only one troubled. Imber tilted his head, responding with a steady voice, “He won’t tell anything. You shouldn’t worry.”
“Do you think I care about that? I shouldn’t have put him in such a position. I didn’t know there was animosity between the ranks of hunters,” the girl said bitterly. Horrible images of what Avalon would go through crawled into her mind.
“No,” Imber replied. When Suri gave him a puzzled look, he continued, “There’s no animosity. There’s only his interest in you.”
Suri bit her lip. “Why does he want me to take part in that?” the girl asked. Imber didn’t answer right away. During his silence, Suri understood everything herself.
“He wants to harm me,” her voice sounded more resolute than ever. Recently, the first rank had been paying her too much attention. Why was Maxat so bothered by the presence of another blood mage? Or did he consider her a weak link compared to others?
“He hasn’t seen enough yet. But one shouldn’t underestimate the personal experience of a blood mage,” Imber looked to where Maxat and the young tracker had recently disappeared. “Suri,” Imber, not for the first time, called her by her name. However, for the first time, his voice sounded harsh and abrupt. “Under no circumstances should you take part in the trials.”
The girl’s eyebrows furrowed, her gaze dropped to her hands, covered with calluses and abrasions. Imber knew exactly what she was thinking about.
“Are you worried about Cassia?” He waited while Suri nodded, and then continued. “She has a chance to become a hunter if she’s lucky. Mages aren’t favored by this luxury. You, unlike the other candidates, won’t have the right to choose. And Maxat knows that perfectly well.”
So many questions clamored in her mind, but her lips uttered only “Why did he target me?”
“There are too many reasons to choose only one. Your task is to make them all a reality.” Imber squeezed her slender shoulder, expressing readiness to support her on this challenging path. All the time, all the strength he had left, he would dedicate to ensuring this girl succeeded. Then, Cassia would have support, if not in him, then in this mage.
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“Imber, the usual methods of warriors are not for me,” Suri almost whispered, looking sadly at the target pierced by Avalon’s arrows.
“It was clear from our first meeting,” Imber replied.
“Was today’s training a show for others’ eyes?” Suri raised a clear gaze to the warrior.
“You did learn something after all.” His pale lips curved. “True. While he’s occupied, you’ll have more time.”
“Do you think it’s even possible?”
“I don’t know,” Imber said. “But only you can try to apply runes in combat. That’s why I taught you how to feel the battlefield. Find trust in those who will become your weapons and armor, protecting your rear.”
“And you chose these people for me?” The blood mage’s blue eyes saw through him. In recent weeks, Suri had been training with Cassia and Avalon.
What remained undeniable was that the time spent together had brought her closer to these three.
“They won’t betray your trust.” Imber switched to a polite tone, shedding the playfulness. He inclined his head before the girl, expressing his submission. “As neither will I.”
Everyone had their reasons for loyalty. And for Suri, it was easier to rely on those whose motives she understood.
***
“Do you want to know the authority held by the first rank?” Maxat uttered, drawing out the words. Suri flinched, and the scroll slipped from her hands. She had forgotten that she was not the only one who could visit the library. The mage ignored her regrettable expression and continued, “I cannot allow you to linger in our shadow, can I?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’? Is your memory failing you? Of course, I’m talking about your participation in the hunter trials.” The man picked up the fallen scroll and unfolded it on the table with his long, slender fingers. An unknown rune stared back at him. Although they all looked identical and meaningless to him.
“Are you sure you’re not confusing something?” replied the girl, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. “The Council will not open the trials until the apprentices complete the Illumination.”
Maxat raised a thin eyebrow and emphasized each word, stating, “But you are ready.” The colorless silver of his eyes pinned her in place, burning through.
“I’ve prepared a gift for you,” Maxat finally interrupted the torment. With a graceful stride, the man headed towards the door, then turned around and bowed, inviting Suri to join him.
***
The conflict among the hunters reached its peak and finally erupted on the training grounds of the Order. The newly joined hunter of the first rank had plunged an arrow close to his former comrade, who managed to dodge the flying projectile in the last moment.
“Hey,” a shout echoed across the bustling grounds. “You make something of yourself as soon as you enter the first rank. Though, your aim is as off as ever!”
“That was a warning,” the archer smirked, mimicking shooting an imaginary arrow at his rival’s head. He taunted, emphasizing, “It’s not fitting for such wretchedness to encroach upon what belongs to the first rank.”
“How dare you?!” the warrior exclaimed.
“And you dared!” the archer roared in return. “Give back my artifact!”
Veins bulged on the warrior’s face, his countenance reddened with barely restrained fury. “We fairly divided the loot. Your failure is not my fault.”
The arrow dislodged the fastening on the warrior’s belt, scratching his thigh. With a dull thud, the weapon fell to the ground. The warrior clenched his teeth with such force that his squadmate raised a warning hand, blocking the outburst of aggression.
Casually approaching, the archer lifted the dagger and smirked. A small stone flashed at the head of the weapon’s handle.
“Nice craftsmanship. You must have spent quite a sum.” Slicing through the air in front of his opponent’s face, the archer sheathed the dagger. His gaze shifted to the entrance of the training ground, where his new captain appeared in the company of a wild mage.
Tilting his chin up, he turned towards the warrior. “Not my fault that I’m standing above you now,” he proclaimed arrogantly, spitting on the ground. “Here’s your place.”
The warrior unleashed a mighty roar, charging at his tormentor with relentless determination. His massive fist, aimed for the arrogant face, only managed to scratch the sharp cheekbones. Swiftly turning, the warrior raised his defense, perfectly on time - a powerful kick sent him staggering back several steps.
The atmosphere crackled with the excitement of the crowd, their provocative shouts drowning out the voices of reason as the two persons locked in battle. The archer theatrically pointed the tip of his dagger at the weapon’s former owner, the glint of the blade catching the light. His lips twisted into a malicious smirk, a dark satisfaction dancing in his eyes. The newfound status and the power that came with it intoxicated him, especially when it involved settling personal scores.
The warrior, an equally seasoned hunter, could not endure blatant contempt. Baring steel, two powerful bodies collided, sparks flying as the clash echoed through the battleground. Other hunters roared, releasing tension in a chaotic chorus. Suri struggled to keep up with the lightning-fast duel. Blades flashed before her, causing a momentary dizziness. The archer dodged a direct strike, slashing his dagger across the opponent’s leg.
Pure rage consumed the warrior, and he committed the unforgivable. A blue spark ignited on his forearm, pulsating and flaring, awakening the hunter’s abilities. The air around the warrior grew heavier; pressure increased, and the blade vanished, striking its target. Crimson blood splattered, and a distinct scent of intoxicating wine filled the air.
A deafening silence descended upon the training arena.
The archer clutched his arm, attempting to stem the gushing blood, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. Sensing something amiss, his opponent leaped aside, widening the distance between them. The blade flew from his grasp, embedding itself in the ground. Gazing around, the archer’s eyes finally paused on Maxat.
“The hunter demands justice for himself!” the archer shouted, dropping to one knee. With no immediate response, he continued, “I ask the captain to judge!”
Maxat lazily turned away from the archer, gripping his hands behind his back.
“Captain…” the archer began again, but the mage cut him off, pointing to the other end of the field. In the distance stood the Magister, along with the prior of the Warrior’s Order. No one noticed exactly when the leaders of Azur arrived, but the participants in the duel were much more interested in what they had managed to witness.
“I don’t interfere in the affairs of the Judge,” Maxat replied.
From behind the Magister, the Judge emerged, moving towards the center of the unfolding scene, unsheathing his blade with deliberate ease. The black blade had a sobering effect on the hunters. One fell to his knees, while the other regretted that he was already in that position. His fingers, which had just been gripping the hilt of the dagger, scattered to the ground. The archer’s eyes filled with blood, either from shock or the realization of his downfall. He clenched his lips, not allowing his groans to disturb the executioner’s hearing.
“The hunter must not encroach on the quarry of another,” the Judge’s dry verdict resonated. His blade did not waver; the first rank or servant were all equal before his justice.
Turning to the second participant in the duel, he raised his blade once again. Yet, this time, he showed mercy, permitting the guilty one to hear the judgment first.
“The hunter must not direct their abilities towards another.”
He then inflicted the exact same wound the warrior had dealt to the archer.
The man in black dispensed justice faster than others could even contemplate. Only those ready to challenge his title in battle could dispute his decision.
“The crime is not so grave as to deprive us of another hunter!” shouted the head of the Council, veins on his forehead swelling with anger.
“The Judge can do whatever he sees fit. The first-rank hunter was guilty and has received his punishment,” Maxat stated. The blood spilled before his eyes lifted his spirits, and his pale lips stretched into a fake smile. “This isn’t the first execution, and it won’t be the last. The Council should be more decisive; otherwise, how many more hunters will suffer in senseless conflicts?”
The eyes of Magister Pankratz flashed fiercely. Paladin Ingwild, who had been silent all this time, stepped forward, drawing the attention of the leader.
“Let’s make up for the losses. We will hold trials,” his hoarse voice rang out.
The Magister shrugged the long sleeves of his robe and turned away. His prolonged silence spoke volumes, and finally, he waved his hand, giving his consent.
The Paladin inclined his head towards the leader. Then, he proclaimed, “With the dawn, the offering of blades will begin, and three dawns from now, the Council will open the path of trials.”
Maxat caught Suri’s gaze; a smile spread across his face. He had fulfilled his promise.