Feeling the warm touch of the sun and seeing the clear blue sky was a nice change of scenery after the rains last night. This far south, that was not uncommon, actually, it was rare to experience a cool sunny day. Even the sound of the waking jungle was gentler. Not that these parts of the Wilds ever slept. But it was better to listen to the songs of the birds and the distant shrieks of the carrion eaters, after spending the entire night being tormented by the horrible screams of the local beasts.
Carefully, Samantha moved into a sitting position and undid the rope that kept her secure to the thick tree branch. “Better safe, than sorry,” she repeated the words of her instructors back at Esthergrad Castle. A smile came unbidden on her lips at the memory of that frigid place. It wasn’t a pleasant home, not even if one pushed their imagination to the utmost limits, but it was home nonetheless.
Samantha looked at the many notches marking the tree’s trunk. A total of one thousand and eighty-eight, in two neat columns of three hundred and seventy-one, a mark of each day of the year. She brushed her hand against the third unfinished column. After today's marking, it would be only twenty-three more days before she could return home. This was probably the single most challenging part of her becoming a full-fledged Demon Hunter.
Three years in the middle of nowhere, all alone with no one to talk to. And why? Just to guard and maintain a single shrine, no larger than a table. She couldn’t be sure of it, but Samantha wondered if her superiors knew how dangerous these parts of the Wilds were. Compared to the reptilian monsters here, which could change the colour of their skin because why not, the beasts around Esthergrad Castle can be considered tame and cuddly.
Stretching herself, the young woman prepared for her morning routine. First, she would inspect the shrine and clean it, which was as exciting as it sounded. After that, it was time to check on the trap around the safety zone. That would keep her occupied for a good few hours until it was time to hunt for the day's food. That meant that Samantha had to figure out what to do for the rest of the day. Well, there was the constant struggle of staying alive, but other than that, there was nothing really for her to do.
Jumping down from the tree, she landed half a step from the usual spot. So, it was going to be one of those days, she grumbled to herself. Whatever, as long as she did not make any fatal mistakes everything was going to be fine. The young woman looked at the inconspicuous shrine and sighed. It was so plain, nothing but a trio of black blocks, which suspiciously looked like onyx. Reaching for the cleaning kit, Samantha’s dropped her head. She had left the pouch with the scented oils and rugs on the branch above.
“Oh, come on!” Samantha rubbed her temples wondering if it was too early to get back to sleep.
A few minutes later she had removed most of the stains from the toxic leaves and outlined the protective runes with the special ink. Whatever was inside, it was a nasty thing to need so many spells placed on it. Samantha understood the reason for secrecy, normal people were not ready to face what lurked in the shadows and more than anything they were not ready to accept what it costs to protect them. However, the young woman did not understand why things were kept secret from her, she is to become a Demon Hunter and knowledge was the Order’s greatest weapon. It only limited her possible actions in case of an emergency.
What if whatever is inside escaped? How is she supposed to restrain it? Can she restrain it? Who could be looking for it? Were they organised, like the corrupt covenants? The instruction Samantha received, would just not do. Run away, that’s what her tutors at the Castle told her if the shrine was ever damaged.
“I don’t suppose you are going to answer any of my questions,” she addressed the object and smiled.
It was nice to talk to it from time to time. There weren’t that many ways for her to keep her sanity out here. For the thousandth time, she questioned if trying to reach the rank of a Demon Hunter was the right choice. She looked at the tattoos decorating the inside of her right forearm. Samantha traced each one with the tip of her finger. The first one in the line was that of a stylised i with an omega surrounding the dot. It marked her as one of the Order. Every initiate received that one. Most would never advance from this level, instead, they would farm the food the other ate, make the gear and tools Samantha used, crew the ships, heal the sick and injured and a multitude of other menial, yet essential tasks.
The next one was that of a shield with the twin moons of Selenth and Letium surrounding it like protective parents. This one marked Samantha as a peacekeeper, a protector of the weak and downtrodden. Her tenure with Irwingstown’s guard was a short one, but it taught her what it meant to be human, to be powerless. But it also taught her depraved humanity could be if left to its own devices.
Following the shield was the mark of the wolf. It resembled a crude representation of a horned wolf’s head, or a werewolf’s one depending on who you asked. With this, Samantha had advanced to the rank of a Beast Slayer. Two gruelling years hunting monsters in the depths of the Wilds along with the Silent Knights. Now that was something she enjoyed, despite all the pain and suffering she had to endure. But it was worth it, because Samantha was an ambitious girl and because it was expected of her.
That was one of the issues with coming from a respected bloodline. If the stories her mother told her were true, her great grandfather was none other than Nathaniel of Esthergrad Castle, the first Lord Commander of the Witch Hunters. It did not help that Samantha’s own father was the current Lord Commander. People expected that she would become a member of the sisterhood. And she did, the twin snake ouroboros tattoo stared at her.
Her father had raged for days after learning that she had joined the Witch Hunters. To the point where he and Lady Calypso had come to blows. The incident almost cost him his position and only the timely intervention of the Mistress of the Witches, Amberly, had saved him from the harsh laws of their Order. Samantha remembered that day clearly. The fear that her father might be executed, the anger in Lady Calypso’s voice as she gouged out his right eye, and Amberly’s pleas that the young girl would reconsider and join the witches instead.
At that time Samantha did not listen. Her foolish young self had nothing but disdain for the witches. Like most, she did not understand why a single covenant of their kind was allowed to exist within the structure of the Order. Neither did she understand why everyone was trying to stop her from following the path she chose. She learned the answers to those question all right.
The process of becoming a Witch Hunter was painful, to say the least. The training she had to endure was a nightmare, but even it paled to the many surgeries she had to go through. Most of her intestines and her womb and ovaries had been removed. Poisons flooded her blood and ate at her mind, while infernal creatures chipped at her soul. The memories alone were enough to make her shiver. But on the day of her eighteenth birthday, the torment ended. Samantha signed the contract with her spirit companion.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Orf was a hard partner to like. Stern and quiet, he ignored her for the most part and only helped her when he felt like it. Actually, she was a bit harsh. He was a noble spirit or at least used to be until he learned that she planned to become a Demon Hunter. And wasn’t that a day to remember? Everyone within the Order, well at least those within the Witch Hunters’ ranks, knew that there were less than twenty Demon Hunters. A number inadequate to patrol the continent of her birth, let alone the many islands and the lands of humanity on this side of the ocean.
When she informed Lady Calypso of her choice, things got ugly. Hateful words and blows were traded. After the smoke settled and the shouting stopped echoing throughout Esthergrad Castle, Samantha was brought before the Lore Keeper. By all accounts Ire was an ancient woman, however, despite missing half her face, her left arm and her right leg, she scared Samantha. Yet, the Lore Keeper was the most reasonable person, she had talked to. Their conversation lasted only a few minutes, but the young woman remembered every word of it.
“You wish to become a Demon Hunter?” Ire had asked in her rasping voice, while her old bones cracked with each move she made.
“Yes,” Samantha was ready to counter every argument, the ancient woman would make, instead she found herself speechless.
“Very well,” with a shaking hand, Ire scribbled a few notes, before her one jade eye bore into her. “I do not envy you,” she said with pain in her voice, “it’s not going to be easy. Do you know why Calypso is against it?”
“No?”
“Of course, you don’t!” Ire slammed her hand on the wooded desk she was sitting behind. “Think before you answer stupid question.” Taking a deep breath, the Lore Keeper continued. “This note is for the Quarter Master and this one is your instruction. You will depart the Castle tomorrow at dawn. The leader of Demon Hunters is Irene Nox, you answer only to her the moment your footsteps out of this room.”
Samantha couldn’t help but notice the vitriol with which the ancient woman spoke the name the greatest hero of humanity. Although for what she knew, this Irene Nox was not the same one as the one known as the God Slayer. Which made sense, since no one had seen or heard of the God Slayer in close to a hundred years. And all the rumours and texts within the Order indicated that she had perished during the battle of the Frozen Keep. The destruction of the birthplace of the Witch Hunters was a devastating blow. Only Ire, Lady Calypso and a handful of young initiates had survived. It had taken them years to rebuild their numbers, but even so, they were a shadow of their former glory. It was one of the reasons the Order was restructured to what it was now.
The Demon Hunter in training chuckled to herself. After that conversation, she thought that her chosen path would be a test like no other. Instead, the only difficult part was remaining sane.
“Be careful, it's dangerous. Don’t trust Nox. Listen only to her,” Samantha grumbled, repeating the words of her father and Lady Calypso. “Well, why don’t you make up your mind which it is. And while I’m at it, it would have been nice if the bloody woman would have shown her face at least once in the last three years.”
She stopped polishing the black stone and examined her work, making sure it was impeccable. “You are such a good listener.”
“Are you done?”
“Yep. As good as new…” Samantha dropped the rug from her hand and jumped to the side. She pulled the flintlock pistol from her belt and aimed it at the intruder.
The weapon was a last resort one, capable of downing the hardest of targets, but it only had a single shot in it and reloading it took way too long. It was a fairly new piece of technology and it was up to the Order to find if it would be useful or not. Back at the Castle, the answer would be maybe. Out here in the thick of the Wilds, Samantha could honestly state no.
“Who are you?” She demanded of the intruder only to stare at the empty air. Did she imagine it? Had she finally gone insane?
“No, you did not.” The voice from a moment ago whispered in her ear. “Not talking with your companion is not good for your health.”
Samantha lashed out with the gladius in her other hand. Striking blindly was unlikely to hit anything, but it would force the intruder to step away. Or at least that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, the young woman was sent flying and an armoured boot pressed against her chest the moment she hit the ground.
The woman that stood on top of her was dressed as a Witch Hunter, although her gear looked more like the type worn by the Hunters of old. Tight-fitting leather pants, which left far too little to the imaginations, and a forest-green leather bodice with ivory patches to emphasise her breasts, it almost looked like something a prostitute would wear. And as if that was not enough, the area between her neck and cleavage left exposed. The only difference between this woman and a lady of the night were the steel elbow high gloves and steel shoulder pads and the great sword she casually had resting on her shoulder.
Long silver hair flowed from her head and her skin was the colour of alabaster. She was beautiful, Samantha thought before she noticed the eyes. Two bottomless dark pits of despair with bright red pupils, burning with cruelty and malice. They looked at her with hunger and the curious smile on her red lips took a different meaning.
“You are a demon!” She exclaimed and struggled to remove the foot pinning her to the ground.
“Oh? You can see the truth?” The woman crouched down. “I see, you’ve inherited the boy’s eyes. You know, I’ve missed that frightened look of his every time he had to speak with me. But you, my dear, do a fine job imitating poor Nathaniel’s fear.”
“Don’t listen to the words of demons!” Orf sang in her head. “They speak nothing but lies!”
“Be quiet, little one,” The woman hissed. “Like the others of your kind who remained stuck in this world, you will embrace change.”
With that, the woman plunged the massive blade next to Samantha’s head and sliced open the palm of her hand. Thick dark blood dropped on the future Demon Hunter’s lips and the abomination chuckled.
“Don’t be afraid, a single drop is all it takes…”
“That’s enough!” A heavy voice boomed. “You’ve had your fun, now complete the ritual. We don’t have time to waste.”
“You are no fun, Zan.” At the mention of the name, Samantha turned her head to the side. It was true. Lord Zan, the master of the Beast Slayers stood a few paces away. His stone face radiated anger, no, she corrected herself, not anger but frustration.
“Sam,” the mighty warrior spoke softly, “this is Irene Nox. I know how this looks, but if you wish to become a Demon Hunter, you must drink her blood. Refuse and I will be forced to execute you. This is the price of learning the truth.”
Finally, the gears turned in Samantha’s head. This was why everyone warned her against taking this path. Just like she kept many uncomfortable truths from the masses, so too did the Order keeps its dark secrets from those within its ranks. No wonder that the Demon Hunters were so reclusive, with a demon leading them they had to be.
“A word of warning, pest,” the thing snapped at her. “Never lump me together with those cowardly things you call demons. Now, drink!”
This was it. All that Samantha strived for was in front of her and all she had to do was take it. She ignored Orf’s protests, it was too late to turn back anyway. And if Samantha had anything she would consider a flow, it was her curiosity. Stilling herself, she sucked on the foul fluid. Carefully she opened one eye. Nothing was happening. There was no pain, no feverish nightmares, nothing. She reached out to Orf, only to be met with silence.
“Don’t worry, it will take the seed of chaos a few days to finish its task of transforming your companion,” Irene removed herself from Samantha’s chest and offered her a hand.
Taking a moment to comprehend what just happened, Samantha took the offered hand and looked at the woman and Zan. “Is that it?”
“Yes,” the mighty warrior nodded and took the mace strapped to his belt. With a single blow, he reduced the shrine to rubble. From the debris, he retrieved a severed human head. To the young Demon Hunter’s shock, it was still alive. Its lips trying to form words or scream in agony. Either option was equally valid, considering the state it was in.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Irene asked with sadistic laughter. “I can taste his fury and pain from here. Such a pleasant treat after so many years. I can’t wait to play with you during our journey to Esthergrad.”
“It has been a long time, Paul.,” a vicious smile spread on Zan’s face, while the head’s mouth opened and closed. Its blue eyes stopping on Samantha, begging her for mercy. She was about to remark on how cruel this was when Zan continued.
“The day of your judgment has come. Mother has been eager to meet you.”