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The Orion Division [Progression Fantasy]
Chapter 44: Through the Cracks

Chapter 44: Through the Cracks

Hunter policy #00121 (Redacted):

When conducting Hunts on behalf of the academy, it is regulation to combine all four divisions into the same time frame without their expressed knowledge. The Orions shall hunt. The Cloaks of second year and higher will track them. The Harvesters will aid in acquired monster materials. The Fishers will follow in the wake of the Orions, ensuring the most desirable and dangerous creatures are already claimed by their betters.

Rayna Felwirth muttered the same empty promise to herself that she made every year around this time:

“I am going to retire after this. I swear it.”

But like every year, her mountainous obligations, not to mention her patron, forced her back into the rigid seat of headmaster. She moved through the temporary encampment set up just before the ancient gates that yawned far into the distance. Even with her enhanced vision, she could only barely make out moving shapes by the treeline that marked the beginning of the first fold. She squinted. If she was willing to delve into the realm of inferences, Rayna would say that she saw multiple corpses strewn across the forest floor by the gate’s opposite entrance.

Typical.

She grimaced. Rayna hated this. She hated the wet odors of dewy grass and sweaty youth bustling about. She loathed their enthusiasm—how they appeared to believe in what they were doing.

If only they knew the truth, Headmaster Felwirth thought sullenly. Then those dopey grins at their ‘cause’ would flee as quickly as they would. Not for the first time, Rayna cursed her curiosity. It had gotten her into this mess. It had garnered the attention of Krane, after all, and that was proof she shouldn’t have bothered trying to learn the ‘truth.’ Thinking about such things, Rayna unconsciously tugged on the hem of her left sleeve where a certain tattoo marking her as a Red Acolyte hid, as well as other marks she’d rather not explain.

“Headmaster!” Someone yelled from around a stall designed to parse out stew to the cadets and lower staff. A man who bore the standard gray uniforms of a Cloak approached her with silent steps. She hid her discomfort. This man’s division, unlike all the others, unnerved her. It was likely because she had too much to hide. What she would give to have her enemies stick to the light again. “Headmaster,” the man repeated as he bowed his head in respect. “I bear an update from the field.”

“Continue,” She answered with a sniff and a wave of her hand. He stood tall, meeting her hazel eyes with bright blue ones.

“Ma’am, the first shift of Cloaks have been successfully replaced with the second wave. There have been no reports of sightings or incidents, even amongst our second and third years. We have an exceptional batch this year, ma’am.” He waited, likely expecting praise. Inwardly, Rayna groaned at this mundanity. Every year it was the same thing. She wanted to drive a dagger into the man’s liver, just for the fleeting delight of something new.

She resisted this urge, like she always did. Well, most of the time, anyway.

“Well done, commander. Be sure to praise your staff for a job well done.” Rayna’s voice was calm and aloof, leaving no room for further discussion. The Cloak got the hint and moved to leave. A second form darted from the shadows, however, whispering into his ear without preamble or permission. Her heart began to beat faster. She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up, but maybe…just maybe…

Something new might happen this year.

“Ma’am,” the commander intoned, and Rayna caught the pale complexion beneath his heavy cowl. His words were notably more shaky than just a moment ago and her heart thumped even faster. “There’s been an update on the goings-on in the second fold. It…” He drifted off, whatever this poor fellow had just been told clearly enough for him to fear retaliation. Good. She could use that.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Commander, your name?” Her tone was cool, yet she intentionally withheld any barb. He gulped.

“Commander Erik Slanslow, Headmaster Felwirth,” he clipped professionally.

Even more formal now. It must be bad, Rayna hoped internally. Outwardly, however, she simply nodded.

“Commander Slanslow, I am not one to harm a mere messenger. Relay what you have been told and I shall determine the correct route forward,” she said soothingly. He visibly relaxed. With a nod in a different direction, he led her away from the stalls and students. When they were out of earshot even for those with standard Cloak enchantments, he spoke again.

“Ma’am, it’s bad. Of the eighty nine Orions, only thirty six still live.” Erik’s proclamation landed like a bombshell. Rayna immediately cursed her own damned curiosity and prayer for something to change. She had no doubt that this trash-fire of a situation was, in part, due to that prayer she just made.

Thirty six, Felwirth thought frantically. The last time we had numbers that low, Prince Anthony was undergoing his first hunt. Could it be? She had not placed much weight on Prince James’ aptitude. No one had. They had all surmised, in secret of course, that he was just another rotten limb on the once-great branch of Lancaster royalty.

“Thirty six,” Rayna repeated aloud.

“Aye, and it…it gets worse,” Erik remarked cautiously. Rayna huffed and waved for him to keep speaking. He cleared his throat but eventually obliged. “It appears one of the cadets snuck in enthrallment charms…A lot of them. He’s using them to reduce captured female Orions to sex slaves and servants. Those he doesn’t torture or toy with, he kills. He’s been hunting down every team he and his allies can find, poaching their gear and killing any who resist.”

“Who is ‘he’?” Rayna barked, an old anger building in her throat. Flashes of a dark corridor surrounded by books and unwanted arms reaching for her flashed through her mind. Erik hesitated again. She was growing tired of this man’s caution. “Tell me. Now.”

“Prince James, Headmaster.”

Rayna’s mind whirled back to the conversation she had with her patron just before this Hunt began.

“My great-nephew is an idiotic fool too pigheaded to see how insignificant he truly is,” Krane Lancaster had said. He had chuckled to himself, rustling through the documents on Rayna’s own desk as he spoke. “But under no circumstances is he to be killed during the Hunt. It would not do for a prince of the realm to die right now. Later, perhaps, but it does not serve our purposes at this time. See to it your Cloaks are informed of my decision. He can be harmed, maimed even—Zadalk, the boy could use it. But no death, is that understood?”

She had agreed to his demands. But now she regretted it. She had stuck her neck out for that foolish princeling, and now he went and did something like this. It was ten bounds too far, and he knew it.

“Commander,” Rayna said, returning to the moment. “This is unacceptable behavior, even by our Orions. See to it the standing order on Prince James is updated. He is to be given one life-saving rescue. Just one. If anyone or anything is persistent enough to seek his pitiful life a second time, see to it they are allowed to try.” Rage seethed beneath her skin, and she wished all the more desperately to have something to rip apart. She contained her impulses, if barely.

“As you command, Headmaster!” Erik intoned with a saluted fist across his chest and heart.

“And Erik?” Rayna added before the man could turn to fulfill her declaration.

“Yes, Headmaster?”

“See to it that this minor update to the standing order is kept under wraps. Only me, you, and whoever is assigned to him currently should know, is that understood?” Felwirth waited as the loyal dog in front of her digested her words.

“Bartholomew is on duty right now. I’ll make sure he understands the—ahhh—sensitivity of this matter.” With that, Erik disappeared into the growing crowd.

The dawn was just bleeding into the early morning sun, and already she could feel the strange juxtaposition of the cold dew and the comforting warmth of the light overhead. Her heart slowed, though it took many long seconds of breathing to get there. Then, not for the last time that day, she vowed, “This is absolutely the year I am going to retire.”