Hunter rose from the dead a new man. His eyes were burning emeralds as he observed his new surroundings without moving. His Eye of Avarice—no, that wasn’t right—his Eye of the Hurricane fed him information in a constant feed.
He was lying on a plush bed. The blood-colored comforter felt like he was sleeping on a cloud and the gold silk pillows cradled his head like a warm hug. There was an ornate candelabra that hovered above the room. Green embers twinkled merrily between arms that were fashioned to look like glittering branches. The light cast a pleasant verdant glow against the gold walls and the rich walnut floors. Hunter wondered when he had ever thought of the light as garish. It was beautiful.
Hunter tilted his gaze downward and checked out his new clothing. He was wearing a luxurious black tunic that had elegant script picked out in green and gold. He wore matching trousers that are touched into black leather boots. His eyes lit on the golden bracer attached to his forearm. The jewel matched the color of Hunter’s own eyes, and he smiled.
Hello, old friend. I missed you.
Hunter had the sense that he was missing something. It tugged on his soul and warned him that what he was doing was wrong. Hunter’s mind drifted over the presence and dismissed it. The entity didn’t do anything for him. It didn’t give him power or deliver wealth. It was a waste of valuable resources, and if there was something Hunter Gold hated, it was wasted resources.
Hunter lifted his feet and rolled off of the bed. He spotted a long, silver-bound chest lying in the corner of the room from his new vantage. His heart clenched at the sight of potential treasure. He rushed toward the container and threw open the lid. His heart fell. Nestled inside on a pad of velvet lay a silver staff. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as his focus, but he knew it was his.
He lifted the staff from its resting place and twirled it experimentally. It was nice, but it wasn’t perfect. He activated his Midas Touch to transform the staff into its proper brilliance. He was surprised when nothing happened. Hunter frowned and checked for a system description, but nothing presented itself. He tried to flip through the other system functions and couldn’t find anything. There was no mini-map, no status sheet, no anything. It was all gone. Hunter’s mind tried to reconcile his missing information. That was his. How dare someone take it away from him?
A knock on the dense wooden door distracted Hunter from his rage. He looked up as the door clicked open and a shapely tiefling walked in. Her skin was the color of a sunrise, and her lustrous black hair reflected the green light. Two dainty horns protruded from her brow to frame almond-shaped eyes. Unlike Hunter’s opulent clothing, she was dressed in little more than rags. The teenager thought it was a shame that such a beautiful woman wasn’t draped in gold and silks. He tilted his head in interest while spinning his staff idly.
The woman looked at the circling weapon before dropping her gaze to the floor and bowed.
“Vessel, you have been summoned to training grounds.”
Hunter ceased swinging his staff and planted it on the wooden floorboards.
“…and why would I go there?”
He wasn’t opposed to going to the training grounds. Hunter was growing bored with the richly-appointed, if small, room. He just wanted to know what was in it for him. The woman’s gaze lifted from the floor to meet Hunter’s. The young warrior could see a sneer on her features, and Hunter considered teaching her a lesson. Her words stopped him.
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“Fighting on the training grounds is a way to earn better equipment and more power.”
Okay, so that’s a good reason to go. Hunter’s soul practically purred at the thought of getting more equipment. It begged the question of why the tiefling in front of him wasn’t doing the same thing.
“What’s your name?”
“Slave,” the woman replied matter-of-factly.
Hunter leered at the tiefling and made a show of looking at all the places where her tattered clothing neglected to cover.
“So, you’re property? Whose? Maybe I’ll win you from them.”
The woman rose from her bow and snorted.
“Good luck, boy. The Knight holds my chains. Now, stop talking. I’ve been ordered to bring you to the training grounds.”
Hunter smiled to himself as he followed the departing form of the tiefling. They were walking through a columned hallway that reminded Hunter of an old monastery. Each pillar was painted with gold leaf, and small braziers filled with Flames of Avarice lit the path. The perfumed scent of incense drifted on the air. Hunter made a small gesture, and the wind responded to his touch. It pulled the delicious smell closer to him, and he inhaled deeply to experience the odor more fully. He breathed out with a sigh and spoke to the slave as they were descending a spiral staircase.
“So who’s the Knight? Is he the Rift Keeper?”
The tiefling tossed a glance over an elegantly shaped shoulder.
“Among other things. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”
“Hm? Why’s that?” Hunter asked as he trailed a finger across a garish painting of a pilfer on a horde of gold. Imps were cavorting in the coins under the watchful eye of the demon. The pilfer was a peerless example of demonic heritage. Its crimson-hued skin was painted in loving detail that was only rivaled by the care evident in the amassed wealth.
“Because you are the luckiest and unluckiest person I have ever met—both in my last life and in this one.”
Hunter’s attention focused on the most important part of her statement.
“Why am I lucky?”
The tiefling shrugged as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “You’re going to be the Vessel of an entity more powerful than even my master. You’ll become a true Lord of Hell.”
Hunter agreed with the sentiment. That amount of power would be intoxicating to wield. If the Rift Keeper was a Knight and the entire Rift was his domain, then how powerful would a true Lord of Hell be? Still, something nagged at his consciousness.
“And how is that unlucky?”
The woman didn’t answer until they reached their destination. It was an open courtyard with a couple dozen tieflings fighting with golden weapons. A pilfer oversaw their fighting and shouted instructions in its three-toned voice. After each shouted command, the tieflings renewed their assault on their opponents. Hunter felt his mouth water at the display of weapons and abilities. There were walls of flame, small meteors that crackled into being overhead, and fireballs that were flung between the demons. They each wielded glittering armor studded with eye-catching stones and intricate filigree.
The tiefling watched the same display in silence. “You know, I used to be one of them. I displeased a pilfer, and then I became property. I’m nothing more than an object for the Rift Keeper’s Hood.”
She paused to turn toward Hunter, but the young man’s eyes were still fixed on the martial display.
“Even still, there’s a chance for me to grab more. I regain my status and my power. I’ll acquire more wealth and dress in fine silks and scintillating jewels.”
Hunter finally spared the tiefling his attention. “So why am I unlucky? It sounds like you’re the one who lost it all.”
The tiefling gave him a sad, knowing look. “I’m a slave, but I still have my mind.”
She pointed her finger at him. “But you…whenever the Lord takes your body and your soul, your mind will be nothing but a memory. It’ll be a whisper on the wind telling all the other ghosts how you used to be Hunter Gold.”
She jabbed her finger into Hunter’s chest. “I’ve still got my mind. You won’t even have your soul.”
“Vessel!” A discordant voice boomed. “Good of you to join us.”
Hunter turned to find that the pilfer was addressing him. He looked over at the tiefling slave but found that she had already disappeared. Frowning, Hunter dismissed the tieflings words. He didn’t have to worry about the ramblings of slaves. Shaking off his discomfort, he strode across the courtyard with a confident swagger.
When he neared the demonic taskmaster, it continued.
“The Keeper has ordered me to assess your martial abilities before we go see him.”
The pilfer made a gesture, and the tieflings split apart to create a ring around Hunter.
“Let’s begin.”