“Mercy gives Evil teeth.”
- Emperor Anthony Lancaster, (Interagency Hunter Address, 2567 A.E)
“That’s right! Keep your chin down and weave! WEAVE, you twin-toed fools!” Redmoor called out to me as I did my best to follow his commands. In front of me, a bulky dwarf swung his warhammer like his life depended on it. Around us, the entire class sparred with their respective partners. My Shardclaw gauntlet caught the side of the anvil-on-a-stick and shoved it off its course just enough to slide to the side. My back screamed at the sharp demand of strength as the male dwarf’s powerful arms pumped the oversized hunk of metal through the air. My boot slid on a wet cobblestone and it forced me too close to the next blow.
Green shimmered across my vision as I went flying through the air. They’d given each of us a simple shield nowhere near the quality and endurance Gavin’s had possessed, but that was the point. If we were hit once, the shield would hold just long enough to save our lives from a fatal strike, then dump our sorry ends onto the unforgiving ground.
“Mind your surroundings, Shade! It's the weapon of your enemy until you claim it for your own!” Redmoor yelled appreciatively. I nodded but didn’t trust myself to speak without cursing. Our combat professor had been showing me more favor than most these past few days, though I couldn’t tell if it was due to my rapid acceleration in skill and effort or guilt for ending my fight early with Gavin.
Maybe both.
“Did you know them?!” Someone screamed from across the packed combat field, and it cut through my self-pitying thoughts at losing to the dwarf. For his part, he had half a dozen bruises across his arms and legs, but as the shield only stopped a fatal blow, it hadn’t halted my inexorable punishment of his compact form.
“DID YOU KNOW THEM?!” The person screamed again, and it was only then that I recognized the voice. I groaned again, though this time it had nothing to do with the throbbing behind my eyes. Redmoor walked quickly in the direction of the commotion, and I followed at a discreet distance behind the large man.
Ahead of us, two figures danced through the circle they took up, one with curly brown hair and the other with blue skin.
“They did NOTHING to you, and yet you raped and murdered them. My sisters…My father! You killed them all you stupid ashblood!” Charles yelled at Azuris, and my blood went hot and cold all at once. It was the first time I’d gotten to see my best friend fight, and it was like watching a wraith in daylight. He wove around Azuris’ brutal chops with his twin daggers like they weren’t even there. Charlie’s reflexes were on a whole different level. That wasn’t to say Azuris was losing. No, the young tiefling was hardened by something far tougher than grief or natural talent. The two of them fought a savage war while we watched. Even Redmoor paused at the vicious beauty of their dance. Then sense returned to him and he blurred forward.
With two meaty hands, he gripped the foot of Charles as it was about to connect with Azuris’ right temple, and tightened against Azuris’ wrist as it shot toward my friend’s nether regions. The two warriors looked like fussing children in the face of our instructor. With a twist, he threw Charles fast enough to activate his green shield. A fatal blow. Then, with another blur of movement, he relieved Azuris of his blades and slammed them both into the ground with an almost casual flick of his wrists. He didn’t shout. He didn’t spit. Instead, Professor Redmoor merely waited as he drew in a deep breath. Then, in a whisper that still carried across the wind with ease, he addressed the two boys.
“Use that sort of foul language against another cadet, Dunclad, and I’ll see to it you guard the high wall during every surge until graduation. Is that understood?” Redmoor demanded of the human who was slowly peeling himself out of the ground. Charles, to my horror, didn’t nod his head or show any other signs of backing down.
“I said, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!” This time, it was like the thunder of the surge had returned all at once. Charles flinched, but didn’t back down.
“He’s one of them, sir. I saw his mark. He’s a Wraith. He was probably there, that sick bastard.” Charles took a step forward, but then thought better of it. Still, his eyes didn’t move from Azuris’ form for a moment. Sweat and dust trickled down my friend’s brow as they made wet tangles of his hair.
“He’s an Orion, cadet Dunclad, same as you. We all come in marked in some way or another. Those don’t mean shÿnka once you put on the Orion blacks. Treat him with the respect that deserves or find yourself dishonorably discharged. There’s no room for prejudice when lives hang on the line. We are the final and greatest defense against the monsters. If we can’t trust our fellow hunter, we’ve already lost.” Redmoor’s statement would’ve been more moving if not for Charles’ uncontested accusation.
Azuris is a Wraith.
My mind couldn’t process the information. I scanned the tiefling for any signs of this being a falsehood but found only quiet resolve there. The other students murmured to each other, and I could practically feel the class turn from apathetic to outright hostile toward the blue-skinned boy.
“Didn’t the Wraiths destroy that village down by the river?” I heard one student whisper to his elven friend.
“The Wraiths burned the crops of Valor’s northern borders. Used some sort of monster blood to make it nearly impossible to put out. Scheming murderers, they are,” another said a bit too loudly. Redmoor picked up on this discord and hushed them with a raised hand.
“I know you’re all thinking about petty vengeance or whatever idiotic notions got your tiny minds in a tuffle. End those now. If any of you cause unprovoked harm against our fellow Orion, I will personally see it returned tenfold. Kill him, and there will be no end to the misery we pour down on you. Get yourself the title hunter-killer, and you’ll see why it’s a capital offense no one seeks out.” Redmoor paused to let his words sink in. They worked on most of them, save my childhood ally. Only darkness lingered there. It was like I didn’t recognize him at all. My heart broke at the sight.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Redmoor shooed us away, calling a somewhat early end to our class that day. I sifted through the dispersing students, all of whom stank of sweat and grit. I nearly reached Charles as he headed to the showers when two people reached him first. They put their arms around him affectionately, and to my surprise, Charles didn’t flinch or tense. I picked up my pace a bit but was careful to hide behind other students as we all moved in the same general direction.
“Don’t worry, Chuck. We’ll get him, just you see.” Gavin told my friend consolingly. Charles looked between him and Prince James on his left with longing and confusion. Blood began to pulse in my ears at the look James gave the bruised human under his arm.
“I’ve always wanted a tiefling horn for my room. That bastard is a stain on the hunters we need to remove. We’ll hunt him once we’re all in the Wilds. That’s a promise, old chap.” James squeezed my friend congenially as he whispered quietly. It was all I could do not to show my hand as I trailed silently behind their trio.
“Thanks, James,” Charles replied tiredly. My heart sank at both his familiar tone and how unsurprised he was at the prince’s promise.
This was a reminder, I realized. My palms grew sweaty as I let my pace slow.
Maybe my brother’s right. Maybe I do need to get out.
Something about their exchange unsettled me. It wasn’t just their promise to hunt Azuris. That was terrible enough. It was how easily Charles had been accepted by these noblemen. The same noblemen that called me ‘rat’ and ‘commoner’ like they encompassed all that I was and could be. How was Charlie different from me? It couldn’t just be how he saved James in the arena…Could it?
My mind remained troubled the rest of the day. Alaric’s class passed in a blur, and besides a few strange looks he gave me, all was uneventful. When I was on my way to the dining hall with Gwyn, I noticed two figures lurking in the shadows of a window’s curtain. One was tall and slender and had her back pressed dangerously against the silky cloth, while the other was broad and wore a brown cloak.
“C’mon,” I whispered to my friend, and we veered away from the small horde of hungry students to intersect these two people. All of my pent-up anger and anxiety at what I heard Charles and James discuss rose up my neck like bile. I needed an outlet, and I just found the perfect one.
“...kill those wenches we caught you with,” the man in the ugly cloak said dangerously. In his right hand, an exposed knife glinted in the autumn’s light that bore down through the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Us?” I interrupted, stalking toward the man who held Lysandra by the throat as she squirmed against the curtain. “Are we the wenches?” I turned to Gwyn, never pausing in my stride. “Do you feel like a wench, Gwyn? You don’t look it, that’s for sure. How about me? Do I look like a wench?”
“No,” Gwyn replied smoothly, though her knuckles cracked lightly as she stretched her fingers.
“Thought so. How about you, you foul little meat grinder?” I asked jovially of the average-height man. He swiveled on us like a pest caught in a corner. His green eyes were beady little things, and I was surprised to see just how young he looked.
Not a day over fourteen. And how do these bastards keep getting in?
I decided to ask him that.
“Mind your own business, wench!” He yelled, sticking out his knife at us now and relinquishing his iron grip on Lysandra’s throat. The slender elf fell to her knees and choked as life-giving air returned to her deprived lungs.
“You sure no one’s paying off the sentries, or is your one talent sneaking like snakes through this place? Impressive, really, in either case. Didn’t know you could bribe an Orion, though I’ve never had the money to find out,” I observed in a melodramatic tone. The man furrowed his brow at me, but I didn’t stop until I was upon him. Repeating the move I’d seen Redmoor use, I twisted the man’s wrist in a blur and caught the jagged blade in a single motion. He yelped and backed away, his hands clawing inside of his cloak for a second weapon. Gwyn put on a burst of speed and slid across the smooth marble of this section of the academy. The man’s ankle gave under her efficient dive, and he scrambled back as she easily returned to her feet.
All my rage fled when I saw the look in his eyes. Desperate. Scared. This boy wasn’t like the men who’d ripped Lysandra from her sheets. He wasn’t a kidnapper. A murderer. Suddenly, I felt like the bully as I stood over him.
“What’s your name, boy?” I asked, even if I was just three years his senior.
“Lard, ma’am,” he whimpered, and I bit off my sharp laugh before it ruined the moment.
“Lard,” I repeated slowly. “There’s a way you come out of this alive, but it’s not with this dagger in my gut, do you understand?” I crouched so that I was eye-level with him. My wavy hair was loose around my shoulders save for the half-braid that crowned my head. I played with the knife in my grip and waited for him to nod, his eyes shifting quickly between it and me.
“Good. The way you come out of this alive is to tell whoever you work for that Lysandra’s off limits. I don’t care if her dad is your boss. Tell them to sod off, ‘kay?” After a gulp, he nodded again. “Amazing. Better yet, leave them a note, then change your name and go work on a farm or settlement. Get lost. Don’t go back to whatever life led you here. That’s the way you come out alive, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly. I smiled at him and stood to my full height.
“Good. Now, scram, Lard. If I see your face again, I’ll sheath this pretty new thing in it.” At my dismissal, he peeled out of the corridor and disappeared into the bustling crowd. I really did hope I would never see him again, as by doing so, he would call my bluff. I turned to my friends and noticed how they both stared dumbly at me. Well, Lysandra did. Gwyn just looked faintly amused, if that was possible.
“I didn’t ask for you to help me, you know.” Lysandra got to her feet shakily. I ignored her bravado.
“Are they why you ditched us?” My tone was colder than I meant it to be. She seemed like she was going to snipe back, but then whatever held her together deflated again. Slowly, she bobbed her head and silent sobs wracked her body. I was on her in a moment. I pulled her into a tight embrace as the dam broke inside of her. Though we were in different situations, I resonated with her. To be here—a place of death and violence—and to not have anyone to trust. It was hell. I pulled her in closer, careful to avoid the bruises forming along her exposed neck. Her auburn hair was a long mess of tangles held back by a simple leather cord. I lightly brushed my hands through it as she released whatever poison told her she didn’t deserve this or couldn’t gain this here.
After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and she muffled something into my chest. I pulled her back and she repeated herself.
“Thea?”
“Yeah?”
“Remind me to never get on your bad side. You looked about ready to kill that stupid agent of my dad’s.” All three of us chuckled as I threw my arm around my new friend and we walked together toward the dining hall.