Necun's aura hissed and hummed as she stepped passed the captured traitors and into the command station. It was set up in an older house, home to one of the more prominent RazorRiver families, and often used as a place of organization. As such the Main floor was spacious, with large tables perfect for maps, and a few rooms to the side for tired women to catch a short nap before heading back out.
Walking passed a cluster of women taking reports from a trio of blood spattered warriors Necun popped open the door to the back garden.
A series of raised beds with gloom flowers blooming met her eyes. The sickly looking plants blossomed into intense green thickets wherever proper sunlight struck. In the center of the garden a sundial tracked which direction the sun would rise at each point in the cycle. A small clay figure pointing at their current place at the boundary of the of the rain and dry seasons.
Her mother was sat at one of the withered beds, sharpening her blade to remove a nick from the polished steel.
“Daughter.” the older Hunter growled warmly. “And your bond too. Come now, step into the light so I can see you both.”
Anxiety coiled in Necun's gut, yet she stepped forward. Nickolas was at her side, it made the difference.
“I'm sorry that we couldn't be properly introduced.” Nickolas said. “It seems events conspired to prevent us from talking.”
Necun looked over to see her bond give a small bow.
“Greetings.” the Mage said smoothly. “I am Nickolas, War Mage and son of the Warden of Blightstone, and your daughter's bond.”
“So formal and proper.” her mother snorted. “What did my daughter do to grab a boy like you? Oh, right, she just grabbed you out of a tower. Well done with that if the story was accurate, very dramatic.”
The old Hunter finished working the nick out of her blade and examined it in the anemic light.
“Apologies about the mess last night by the way.” she said. “Councils aren't usually that spirited. You can rest safe with Melat until we've hunted the last of these cowards down. No need to follow Necun around, she'll be back to you soon enough.”
Necun felt her bond's grip tighten on her arm. She wanted to comfort him, but her focus remained squarely on her mother.
“But I suppose if you want to there's nothing keeping you from staying here until we need to move.” the old Hunter said, slipping her blade back into it's sheath. “I'll be busy, but I'm sure we can find something for you to help with while my daughter and I hunt.”
Suddenly Necun was the focus of her mother's attention.
“We're going to be sweeping a row of houses I'm worried about.” she said, tone growing stern. “We still haven't found any of the Mages they were using. Two pods 'forgot' to check these houses and I'm suspicious. Doubly so now that we've confirmed the traitors turned a full circle of Mages somehow.”
There was a temptation to reject her mother's plan. To go off on her own, contribute in her own way, or even offer herself to another pod leader instead. She knew it was futile, her mother was too well respected, no one else would take her if it meant upsetting one of the most senior Hunters in the clan.
“Wonderful. I'll join you then.” Nickolas suddenly cut in, a heartbeat before she agreed to her mother's plan. “I would be the best suited to cutting through illusions, though one of your own trusted Mages would be useful as well. I suspect my unfamiliar training will make me slippery to these traitors. And a War Mage on hand never hurts.”
Her mother's eyes snapped back to Nickolas, narrowing in that way Necun remembered her mother doing as she was sizing up a trickier sort of beast.
“Not necessary.” she said with a liquid smooth tone. “My daughter and I can handle it just fine. Best for you to stay here, you're louder than what we need.”
“The traitors aren't trained Hunters, unless I'm mistaken.” Nickolas shot back. “And the city is loud. I'm confident it will mask the sound of my approach, especially if I hang back until you have both engaged. Barring that, I'm sure I will make wonderful bait.”
Necun's heart clenched at the thought of her bond being used as bait. Taking him into the fight was unappealing as well, but at least tolerable. The traitors were dangerous but no more than the beasts of the Green. If anything a safer fight might help Nickolas feel safer about what had been happening. Seeing that their foes were little threat to even a pair of Hunters might set his mind at ease.
Agreeing to let Nickolas defend the city as part of the home guard, and perhaps even go on limited hunts with her, seemed so easy when it was a future possibility. Now that he was requesting to go with them, to brave the blades of women who would try to end their lives, no matter how incompetently, Necun's first instinct was to tuck him safely away. She knew it was unfair, even bordering on breaking the spirit of her vows, but she wasn't sure that was enough to tip the scales on her stance.
“I won't have some untrained Mage blundering into the fight and distracting my daughter.” Senta growled down at Nickolas. “Clumsy or not these women are trying to kill us. If Necun is distracted looking out for you she will make mistakes. Mistakes I can't afford. When you've shown yourself capable of handling a fight I might consider it.”
“The assault on the council wasn't enough?” Nickolas asked, stepping forward, away from Necun. “I stood next to the leaders of clans and fought well enough. One assassin dead, several more blinded, and that was under pressure, while being ambushed. Their best couldn't handle me and I walked away from that fight without a scratch. If that isn't enough I shudder to imagine what it takes to train a Mage you approve of.”
“You haven't shown proper coordination, you could just as easily interfere with your blundering spells.” the old Hunter said, leaning in to properly loom over the Mage.
“My spell work is perfectly precise.” Nickolas said, sounding genuinely insulted for the first time. “I've fought in tighter margins than this. Shot spells through a battle line of armored women without them flinching. And if an inexperienced warrior was offering to tag along I doubt you would be this critical. You don't know what a War Mage can do. You've only glimpsed my power, and if you're taking my wife into battle, I won't be left behind.”
A heartbeat passed, and despite the swirling emotions Necun found herself focusing on the inconsequential use of the human word 'wife'. Her tongue tested the shape of it on the dry roof of her mouth. It sounded wrong, a nonsense word. Bond was much clearer.
Her mother and her bond were still arguing. The words started to lose meaning to the orc, she knew they would keep arguing until either her mother ordered him to stay, or she intervened on Nickolas's behalf.
She wanted Nickolas to be safe. She wanted him to be free. She wanted him to be happy.
Anxiety twisted in her gut.
It felt like it was hollowing her out with every heartbeat.
**********
Nickolas was going red in the face and for the first time in days it wasn't out of embarrassment.
Ice cold fury flowed through his blood instead, and if he was being honest it was a nice reprieve.
His mother in law was that special kind of stubborn that came with command, but not long term leadership. He could tell by the way she framed her stance that she wasn't used to dealing with peers, only taking orders from the Chief and dispensing commands to the Hunters under her. It was a common enough tone for his own mother's underlings. In those cases however he had his mother's favor to rely on. Few were willing to risk invoking the Warden's anger rather than give the minimum curtsies to her son.
He didn't have that crutch anymore.
It made the argument fresh. The Mage was honestly surprised that the woman hadn't either backhanded him or sent him out of her sight yet. Though he suspected he was a touch harsher in his assessment of the woman then was warranted. But only a touch.
The suspicion was dawning on Nickolas that the woman, despite her bluster, and despite her dismissals, actually cared about his opinion of her. At least enough that she didn't want to order him away.
“You can order me to stay here.” he said, responding to a comment about him having no real way of telling who their enemies were in an unfamiliar city. “If you really believe I would be a hindrance. I won't defy you, even if it would leave a bitter taste to see my bond charging into without me.”
“You will have to get used to the taste.” his mother in law grunted. “My daughter doesn't have the temperament to stay home safe. She needs to hunt, to be free. Tying her down will just lead to disaster.”
Necun wasn't coming to his defense, and a part of him was disappointed in that, but then again family always complicated these matters. He could fight his own battles, even losing ones.
“I won't hold her back.” the Mage replied sternly. “Never that. I just wish to share in her battles where I can.”
“It's not your decision. Not on my hunt.” Senta shot back, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “You don't get to force this, nor does my daughter. I need her, not you. So either sit here and wait for us to come back, or go back to Melat. I don't care so long as it's out of my way.”
It wasn't quite the order Nickolas was spitefully hoping for, but it was close enough.
“As you say.” he replied with a sharp bow, a touch lower than usual. “I shall wait for your return, is there a healing tent I could offer my assistance at?”
The sudden shift in his tone surprised the older orc, as he had meant it too. Part of him might have felt guilty for using manipulative tactics on his mother in law, but he knew the stubborn woman deserved whatever barbs he could deliver for several reasons. Even if most of his passive aggressive behavior went over her head.
“We passed the healing room on our way in.” Necun said quietly, recovering before her mother. “The door is marked with the...you'll know it when you see it. I'm sure they'll be glad to have you helping.”
It hurt Nickolas to hear his wife's voice quaver slightly as she spoke. Reminding him too much of her fragility the day before. There was no helping it now, it was something he could only address when she returned and they could step away from Senta.
He turned to leave.
“Glad you at least listen to your bond.” his mother in law said, words digging into his back. “Maybe there's hope for you then.”
Oh, he wanted to sling a spell, any spell, to show this arrogant woman how a War Mage wields power.. She may beat him in a proper fight, but one solid attack would knock her back into the wall. He wondered for a moment, a single heartbeat, if that was the right choice. If the grizzled orc would respect him then. It was a tantalizing idea, that here of all places he could blast his way into respect.
Instead he placed his hand on Necun's arm.
“I'll be here when you get back.” he said. “Come find me as soon as you're done.”
Fingers touched his chin and it took effort not to flinch. Necun raised his head until he met her eyes.
The kiss was brief, yet sweet. The caress of her tusks against his cheeks brought warmth that smothered his anger ever so slightly.
As she pulled away Nickolas bit his wife's lower lip, enjoying the small sound she made in return. Then he stepped away, out of the shadowy garden, to find where the medical Mages were practicing their craft.
His rage would hold, he was a patient man after all.
**********
Necun released a hissing breath from her teeth. Nickolas leaving so easily and surrendering his point so quickly felt strange, but then she had seen him capitulate before. There were still so many things about her bond that she didn't quite grasp, he was so spirited, yet so cautious at the strangest times. She hoped he wasn't angry, but the Hunter was starting to lose confidence in her ability to read her bond's mood at all.
Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder. Necun winced despite herself.
Need to focus on the hunt. she thought. The problem will be waiting for me when I get back, and Nickolas is safe which is what I wanted anyway. Things will be better when he joins the home guard and can expend all his energy safely.
Necun wasn't even sure what her bond would be doing with the Mages and Medicine Men, but she was just glad he wouldn't be a part of the fighting so soon.
“He'll be fine.” Senta said with a laugh. “He's spirited though, I'll give him that! A human. Never even considered it. Some of the others were convinced you'd come back with a tithe man, but not me, no I thought you would be as meek with them as you are with the boys your father and I tried to push on you. What was it? The challenge? Did you just need to work for him for your aura to properly sing?”
“I knew the moment I saw him he was special.” Necun admitted, pulling herself out of her thoughts. “The tithe just gave me the chance. Bycia was already trying to convince me to pursue him anyway. I assumed you had told her to do that. To nudge me into finding a man.”
“The old woman just likes to worry, a few of the others do too.” her mother replied. “Nothing better to do once their own home lives are settled and their auras are clear than wring their hands over the younger generations. I always knew you would get there I just thought it would take your father and I nagging you half to death to start trying. You're too earnest not to find a good boy Necun, which is why I'm doubly shocked that you decided to lie to me about it.”
“I wanted to make it a surprise.” Necun lied, spine growing stiff. “Give you something to gossip about during the boring parts of the council.”
Her mother pulled back, tugging at Necun with an iron grip so she could throw her arm around her daughter's shoulder as they started moving.
“You did give me good gossip I'll give you that.” the old Hunter said with a half pleased grunt. “With the tale you told I'll have to repeat the story a dozen times before we even hit rot season. Climbing a tower to claim a Prince? Like some old poem about a girl showing off her bravery to her chosen love? Adorable, wish I had thought of it. Everyone's going to be jealous of me now for having such a spirited daughter. Well they already were, but this will stoke the fires until it's beyond obvious.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The pair exited the garden and drifted through the busy clumps of clan loyalists organizing the next series of raids. Many bowed or gave a series of respectful hand signs as they passed. Senta took a moment to grab some fruit off of a nearby table, biting into the rind of one and offering the other to Necun.
“So yes, I forgive you for keeping quiet, and for taking so long to find a bond in the first place.” Senta continued between bites. “Now all I want is for you to get a proper household started so I can start bragging about that. And a few welps for your father to dote on, but that can wait until you're established as a proper pod leader. I'll keep him from poisoning your boy with the temptation for children too early so you can focus on your work.”
The thought of having children with Nickolas hit like a punch to the gut. Necun hadn't thought that far ahead, intimacy had already seemed like a distant concept for a future so far out she would be a different person. She had always assumed when the time came she would be eager to have children with whatever man she had bonded with, but now that the time was here the idea just left her feeling off balance. The appeal was still there, but she knew instantly she wasn't ready for such things.
“I appreciate that.” Necun said. “I still have so much to accomplish first.”
Need to talk to Nickolas once we've moved out. Necun thought seriously. I don't even know if he wants children, or how early. We'll need to know that before adding others to the household. This is all happening too fast, why couldn't these traitors at least have waited until after the next rot season?
As they stepped out into the street Necun looked down at the fruit in her hand. She tossed it to one of the women guarding the prisoners, who caught it easily and grunted in both surprise and thanks.
That's all a problem for the future. Necun decided,calming down even as her aura kindled under her skin. Now I just need to focus on the hunt ahead, and getting back to Nickolas. A bit of violence will help me shake the stress off anyway.
In some way she was already missing the time she spent on the bare stone of the campgrounds, with nothing but the Green and her bond to keep her occupied.
As she unsheathed her weapons those happy memories faded, and the din of the city came into focus.
Her mother flashed a pair of hand signs as her own aura lit up.
Follow. Silent.
Necun obeyed, as a good daughter should.
**********
Being sent away rankled Nickolas's pride more than the golden haired Mage wanted to admit, but seeing healing magic in action.
It was a struggle not to drool. Which wouldn't befit his refined image at all.
“Hmm?” the old man sitting next to the bed said, head jolting as he realized someone was standing in front of him. “Who're you? Whys yer hair so shiny?”
“Greetings elder.” Nickolas said with a bow. “I am Nickolas. I was sent to assist you in any way I can. I'm afraid I know little of healing, and I'm trained in human runes besides, but I believe I can help.”
“You're Necun's bond!” the patient gasped, still holding a bloody rag to her side. “The golden haired boy. Aren't you a Battle Mage or something?”
“I see my reputation is spreading.” Nickolas replied with a smile.
“What can ya do?” the old healer asked, leaning forward and tightening his grip on his cane.
Nickolas watched closely, the ancient orcish Mage hadn't stopped the flow of magic between himself and the wounded woman. The magic hadn't even stuttered since he approached.
“I can provide basic stitching and aid.” the golden haired man said. “My magic is less suited, but I can clean wounds easily. Hot clean water won't be a problem.”
“Interesting.” the healer drawled as he reached forward to pull the bloody rag back and inspect the wound with lidded eyes. “What about sharin your magic? Can ya give me a boost?”
“I...am unfamiliar with that technique elder.” Nickolas replied, mind already whirling.
“Bah. Can ya clean the sheets?” the healer raised a shaking hand, pointing towards a pile of soiled bedding.
“Yes elder.” Nickolas said immediately. “Right away.”
He made his way to the pile, a water summoning spell already forming. Stealing a large pot that was set aside to boil water he quickly filled it before pulling the sheet up towards him. A careful use of water manipulation allowed him to soak the sheet, then rapidly dry it by pulling the soiled water away. Clean brown fabric was left, unspoiled by blood and filth.
Folding the sheet was awkward by himself, but Nickolas didn't want to appear lazy or ostentatious by using too many spells at once. A rough fold job would do.
The other men had taken notice, quite a few of the younger ones shocked by his display. Even the elders seemed interested, but their work distracted them soon after. As he worked Nickolas slipped into a pattern, and once the movements were rote began to examine the room.
It was clean and well laid out, the beds were separated well enough that two men could walk side by side without issue between them. Each new patient received a clean bed as they arrived, though the golden haired Mage suspected that courtesy would be tossed away in a dire situation. Two of the patients were captives, guarded by towering warriors as they received treatment for near mortal wounds. The rest bore serious but non lethal injuries. Many grit their teeth, their auras lashing in the air as the pain pulsed through them, but there was none of the dire fear of a woman who was facing her death.
One of the younger men came to take a sheet, depositing a dirty one onto the pile.
“You're magic is cool.” the man said, openly gaping at the rune circles gently glowing above Nickolas's hands. “Do you specialize in water?”
“No actually.” Nickolas replied with a gentle smile. “I prefer lightning. Water is easy enough to handle through, better than stone.”
The man nodded along, then jolted in shock.
“Lightning?” he asked. “As in from the sky lightning? The big flashes?”
“Not quite as big, or loud.” Nickolas admitted. “But yes, it's quite useful to have and I've always had a tendency for the runes. What do you do? As a specialty I mean.”
“Me? I don't have anything like that yet.” the man said. “I just channel some power, sometimes they let me aspect a bit, or learn how to find my place in a formation.”
Nickolas raised an eyebrow. The man was young, likely younger than the golden haired Mage himself, but even a isolated farming family of Blightstone would have taught their own son a few tricks by that age. Some would even have developed their own unique runes, if unrefined ones.
Intentionally holding the younger men back? Maintaining position and squashing challenges? Nickolas wondered. No, the Green is too dangerous for such games. If they're stagnating growth they'll have reasons for it.
“What does channeling feel like?” Nickolas asked, picking for information. “I'm trying to understand your people's methods.”
The man considered the question, worrying his lip as he watched Nickolas clean two more sheets.
“It makes me feel small, but in a good way?” the man tried to explain. “Like I'm a tiny piece of something larger, the Mages are bigger but still only a piece. It's nice, I can feel the effect I have even when I know I'm just a small part. And when we all push together it's like...”
He trailed off, looking up at the ceiling as he considered his next words.
“I look forward to it every time.” he said. “It's like a warm blanket on a chilly day. Like standing in a line with a dozen others, arms locked as we move a great weight.”
Shaking his head the man took another clean sheet.
“I hope I get to channel with you sometime.” the man said with a smile. “I'm excited to see what your magic feels like then. And...well, how does your magic feel? The spells I mean?”
“Like I'm pulling a piece of the world into the palm of my hand to shape as I will.” Nickolas replied automatically. “There is nothing like it, the feeling of just pulling magic into my body is beyond compare.”
The man gripped the sheet tighter as Nickolas spoke, eyes growing wide.
“That sounds amazing.” he said. “How long did it take you to learn?”
“I'm always learning.” the golden haired Mage said easily. “As I'm sure you're elders are. There's always something new to explore with magic, a new interaction, new combinations, or entirely new runes.”
“I wasn't nearly as good with water magic a few days ago.” Nickolas continued with a wiggle of his fingers. “Took some practice and creativity while I was traveling in the Green to get this good at cleaning. I'm sure I'll be even better when I'm done with this pile.”
“Are you going to start your own circle?” the orc asked, tone tipping into near giddy excitement. “Teach others to do magic the human way?”
A spike of cold fear slipped into Nickolas's chest. He didn't dare move his gaze, keeping it on the younger man's face. A sudden pressure was on him, magical in nature, but he suspected that was a secondary effect. The elders of the room were watching him very closely now, waiting for his response. Nickolas knew there were either few human Mages in the city, or none at all. He was in no hurry to find out why that was the hard way.
“Not at all.” he said with a laugh to cover his hesitation. “I'm no good as a teacher, I might pass on some tricks, but I would prefer to learn the local methods first. Maybe join a circle that would take me.”
The young man was nodding along, and the pressure of the elder's attention dissipated like a morning breeze.
“I could try to put a word in for you, but, well the healing circles tend to be traditional about these things.” the orc admitted. “They won't like the idea of a casual member, especially with you being...”
He trailed off, suddenly looking embarrassed.
“Anyway, I'm glad to work with you!” the man said after rallying. “I need to get back to changing sheets but if you want to keep in contact maybe we could work on artifacts together sometime? Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I'm Sanelle, my household is just a few doors down so I'm easy to find.”
“Nickolas.” the golden haired Mage said with a small bow. “Pleased to meet you, I'll be sure to keep you in mind when I'm settled in, but I'm afraid I can't commit to anything just yet, apologies.”
“No no, I'm sure you'll have a lot of offers I'm just glad to be considered.” the orc replied before looking over his shoulder at another scowling young man changing a bed. “Need to go, glad to meet you.”
As the young apprentice rushed to catch up with his work Nickolas digested his words.
There was no great shock at the idea of him joining a circle, which gave him confidence he would be welcomed into one easily enough. Healing circles having their own special status hardly surprised the human Mage either, as he was well aware of the difficulty of the healing arts. Many of the most prominent healers kept their secret methods tucked away, passing on basic knowledge to their peers while direct apprentices received proper tutelage.
Nickolas was impressed that there were entire groups of elder healers who were willing to work together so openly in the city. It caused him to categorize them closer to Medicine Men in his mind, a group which, while more limited than Mages, tended to work together far easier, commonly trading formulas. Their open cooperation was what allowed such men to sometimes rise significantly above more powerful Mage counterparts in esteem.
Personally Nickolas always trusted Marious's tinctures and potions on principle. He knew his friend's genius made up for any magical talent or dusty secret.
It seemed that the orcs at least partially agreed, Nickolas noted each of them had various herbal supplies at the ready by their patient's beds. Occasionally one of the elders would frown at one of the nastier wounds, and carefully smear a poultice on the closing skin before re covering the site. Never once did the healer stop the movement of magic into the wounded. The process was so continuous Nickolas wasn't sure he had the strength to replicate the feat.
The War Mage assumed that the elder healers were using the younger men as reserves of power, drawing from them as they grew low. What intrigued Nickolas was how the elders could stand the strain of moving that much power over such a long period of time. The bottleneck for magic, as far as Nickolas understood, was the body's ability to process the surrounding magic into a useful spell. Ideas about inherent 'mana' pools men were born with hadn't been taken seriously for a long time. Though the orcs method of aspecting the magic might have produced a solution the human Mages hadn't considered.
Just as he was about to finish with the last few sheets he decided to risk asking Sanelle about the process. Then he felt the shift in the magic around him.
He wasn't alone, all the young orcs stopped what they were doing, closing their eyes. Some started chanting softly, others moved their hands to small trinkets soaked with magic, and began to fiddle with them in repeating patterns.
In the span of three heartbeats the magic in the room grew dense. Healing magic, for it could be nothing else with such a cloying aura of fresh herbs and blood, flooded the immediate room. The women didn't seem to notice, but Nickolas was nearly driven to his knees by the pressure. It was hard to breathe, to think. His spells fell apart in his hands, and the sensation of that alone turned his spine to ice.
And then it was over, the magic dissipating naturally as it returned to it's natural levels.
Nickolas pulled in a heaving breath, not caring that he drew the eye of the other men as he recovered as best he could.
The entire process was involved, intricate in a way he struggled to even describe. It wasn't a simple matter of the younger men dumping 'medicinal' magic into their surroundings. They were somehow, absurdly, converting and concentrating the magic of the room in the span of three heartbeats. A feat that would outright kill a Mage of Nickolas's talents before he had achieved even a tenth of what the orcs had done so casually.
All of that, just so the elder's wouldn't have to take a break while healing some flesh wounds.
Nickolas was standing again, his hands were shaking even as he reformed his spells to finish cleaning. If he could properly learn this ability, understand the principles behind it, he had no doubt he would become the greatest human Mage alive overnight. Moreover, there was so much waste, so much imprecision in what the orcs had done he was certain that there was massive room for improvement.
The golden haired Mage realized he would have to be very, very careful who he discussed this discovery with. Any examination of the technique, or spell, or whatever it was would need to be conducted quietly, without revealing that it was odd to him in any way.
Perhaps more critically, Nickolas's drive to find some of the older tithe men who had lived with the orcs for longer increased drastically. He was certain they would have noticed the phenomena within their first cycle of living here, doubly so for the men who joined orcish Mage circles.
The sheets were done, he folded the last, and after glancing at one of the elders, Nickolas hefted the bucket full of filthy water and trundled through the door to dispose of it.
Walking past a cluster of women who eyed him curiously Nickolas endeavored to find the refuse area. Halfway to the door he realized it would be slightly embarrassing to wonder around with the bucket looking for the refuse in the street and asked the orc minding the door for directions.
He was relieved to discover the refuse collections were largely regulated, and was directed to a small alley beside the building where containers contained trash for later pickup. The Mage left the bucket and was in the middle of cleaning off his hands when a trio of women rushed past. One was bleeding freely from a head wound, another clutched a twisted bloody hand to her chest.
The War Mage followed at speed as they crashed into the command station.
“Senta's been hit! They're flowing into the street!” the lead woman shouted to the room. “We need everyone ready now!”
Around them the room exploded into movement. Women grabbed weapons or threw on armor. The medical pavilion's door burst open, women still bleeding from their wounds rushed forward to join their fellows.
Nickolas stepped out of the way as the horde pushed pass, and after a moment's hesitation, joined them, pumping his legs as fast as he could manage to keep up with women as their auras started to flare.
His wife was in danger, and he wasn't going to be left behind.
**********
Necun jolted to consciousness, her eyes cracked open, sticky blood pooled under her eyelids. All she could see was untextured darkness.
Her surroundings were dead silent, the buzz of the city gone. She couldn't even hear her own ragged breath. Nothing bound her limbs, and the Hunter shifted in place as she attempted to remember what had happened to her.
She remembered running with her mother, getting into position for the hunt. They had stopped in a quiet corner so they could speak away from curious ears.
Her mother had explained the situation in more depth, including her suspicion that the recent murders were to sharpen the auras of the assassins from working auras to something deadlier. In addition the timing around the caravan was brought up, and while her mother wasn't certain why the traitors would be so concerned about a caravan with under two hundred women in it as some kind of threat, she was still wary of the many possibilities.
The old Hunter shared the conclusion she had come to with her daughter, the traitors weren't done, the plan to attack the council wasn't an all or nothing gambit. They had simply abandoned the bulk of their recruits to the mercy of RazorRiver to buy time for something else.
Necun hadn't been convinced by her mother's line of thinking, it seemed to be an extreme conclusion given the thin evidence of a few quick interrogations. Regardless, she agreed that it was best to involve as few people as possible when poking at a possible bolt hole for the traitors to avoid being discovered before they struck.
After that they had left to scout the suspicious block of buildings, hoping to catch sight of the traitors, or even capture one to learn why the buildings might be important.
Setting foot on the roof was the last thing Necun remembered.
As the Hunter maneuvered herself onto her hands and knees to spit up a glob of blood she was regretting her decision to trust her mother's plan. Though she was doubly grateful that she hadn't brought Nickolas along.
The floor felt strange beneath her hands, and she felt certain she was under a heavy illusion. All the Hunter could truly trust for the foreseeable future was her own body, her aura, and the vague sense of her mother's aura nearby. Everything else was either a clever trap or too far away to help.
What mattered now was survival. Nickolas was waiting for her.