Jack stumbled forward covered with a lot of wounds, but none of them deadly. His blades still in his hands. The red moon burning in the back of his skull. It was like a fire, pleasant at first, but if you held your hand too long or too near the fire it started to hurt. He put the swords back in their scabbards and hid them beneath his cloak.

He had hoped to face Ilyan Waramyr in battle, but that man had run off right away. Thirty against one, yet it was they who ran. Cowards, cowards, all of them. Why weren’t the famous three there to protect their lords? Then he might have had a challenge, but he doubted that. They still belonged to the House of Gold, and he had seen their worth tonight. His grandmother had read him stories when he was little about noble heroes and the men of the phoenix, being so inspired that he had joined the red battlelords even though they didn’t live up to their former name, men of the phoenix, the men that came up in stories numerous times. He hadn’t even been a man grown, when he joined the red battlelords but he had been immensely disappointed. No noble heroes to be seen, only money hungry fools, that only concerned about their own pleasures, and worst of all, he had turned to one of them.

He had always been good with swords, couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been. It hadn’t been long before he had been promoted to the first sword, within the order. But for every year he had gotten better he slowly, little by little abandoned his noble ideals and spent his gold on wine and consorts like the men before him.

He thought back to the most important night in his life. He had been inside a woman pleasuring himself selflessly when he had been transported to the red moon. He still had no idea if it had happened or if it had been a vision. On the red moon, the violet sisters had talked to him. The first one had been as beautiful and slim as the second one was plump and ugly, while the third one didn’t draw too much attention to himself in either way. They were emissaries from the gods.

Had he dared he would have thrown all his money on the tall slender woman with pale skin and yet black hair, but he had said nothing, for he could feel that these women were proficient in sorcery. They had asked him if a man of his abilities hadn’t more to give to the world. When he didn’t answer his eyes had started to burn, the pain had been unbearable, had he had a sharp object he would have ended his life right there, but before he knew it was he back in his room. The blonde woman’s eye sockets were burnt out and she laid there dead.

These consorts were the most expensive you could find and the red battlelords had always ensured their protection. The other men had heard screams from his room and when they had seen what had happened they had got mighty angry. He had killed two of the battlelords while fleeing for his life. That was the last day he had ever fled, and he had vowed then to himself to never flee again.

Colors were now too bright for him to handle, so he had gotten himself a new helm to even be able to handle the light at all. But it wasn’t the only thing, he knew now when the red moon would be up and he also knew when the next landing of the descendants would be. Having no need of star gazers like the rest.

The violet sisters had cleansed him; he now saw the world as the joke it had always been. Life was utter shit and then you died, no one got their happily ever after, the end. His grandmother should have told him that story and not filled his head with lies.

He wanted to murder more; blood had been spilled tonight but not enough. Only enough blood would stop the red moon from burning inside his skull. For a little while, at least. He thought he knew what mission the Violet sisters had given him. They had wanted him to protect the descendants, because nothing felt better to him than killing a gifted. Pure ecstasy! When he got informed about the meeting that the Gold would have, how could he not show up? He had suspected to have a chance to kill several gifted, but none of them had shown up. He was still angry about that, no. Not angry, he was furious. He wanted to scream but he never left a sound from his lips. A true red battlelord never showed vulnerability, not that he was one any longer, but some habits were hard to kill.

He needed to tend to his wounds, but he didn’t really care, that pain was nothing compared to what he felt in his skull. He couldn’t believe he had ever been interested in women; men knew so little about real pleasure. He couldn’t stay in the night lands, he needed to go back to Elnyr. His prey had gotten away, but easier prey could still be had. He found one of the gates and left the night lands.

*

Back in Elnyr he had found himself a horse and started to ride for the inn, the spider’s web. It was a rather infamous place, and not many knew its location, and even if you knew, there was a lot of passwords you needed to know to get anywhere. The inn wasn’t in any city but it was hidden deep in the forest. With his overly large helm and red cape he was bound to stick out, but the word normal was a concept that didn’t really exist in that place. A man with a more normal appearance might draw to himself more looks.

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He knocked at the first door, and a small hatch slid open, nothing but the other man’s eyes were visible. “What’s the password?” the man asked.

“Chained man whispers its secrets to his lover”, said Jack. He had no idea what it meant, and perhaps it didn’t really mean anything either.

“Right you are,” said the man and opened the door.

He sat himself down at the bar and ordered well done steak, and he wanted it bloody. The innkeeper came forth and asked him if he wanted anything to drink. Jack held a fork in his hand, and felt a sudden urge to stab the man in the eye. He had these urges from time to time, but this time he decided to not let his urges control him. After the slaughter of gold, the pain in his head was finally starting to evaporate and killing anyone right now would be a waste. He was glad he was wearing his helmet because the innkeep would undoubtedly recognize him otherwise. Jack had no idea if he was handsome or not, and he didn’t really care. After the vision he had forgotten how his face looked like, amongst other things and didn’t really care. He certainly wouldn’t take care of his appearance, doing so would only mean that he cared about the rules made by meaningless people in a meaningless world.

“Is that blood on your helmet?” asked the inn keep.

“At least it’s not yours,” said Jack.

The man only nodded and was suddenly busy elsewhere.

After he had eaten, he went to his room that he had paid for, one year in advance. He had given them clear instructions to never come and clean it. It was down in the dungeons and had no windows, he lit a candle when he entered the room. Furthest back was a man in red armor chained to a chair. It was Vick, one of the younger Red battlelords. It was hard to distinguish the blood from the red paint.

The man whimpered when Jack closed the door behind him.

“Please, Jack, why are you doing this, we’re old friends,” said the man weakly.

He supposed that was true enough, they had been friends, even shared women together, but the former Jack had been an idiot, it wasn’t much in Vicks favor. “Friends, such a strange word, what does it even mean? That we tolerate each other? That we don’t kill each other? That we kill each other last? It’s a word men throw around, without even knowing what it means.”

“It means that we like each other’s company…”

“Is that so? Do you like my company right now?” asked Jack fiercely.

Vick started to cry, and he wasn’t even quiet about it. That gave Jack satisfaction, Vick was of his former order and breaking him down had taken a lot of time, but he was still a man like everyone else. There was only so much pain a man could endure. He had been so proud and stoic in the beginning, nothing like this.

“What do you want? Why can’t you let me go?”

Jack turned his chair and sat down resting his hands on the armchair. “What is the leader planning?”

“Why would the leader tell me anything? I’m not part of the nine swords.”

“Didn’t you know? You are the leader’s bastard.”

“What? No, that’s impossible.”

“Your mother was a whore, and she gave birth to you in the order. Didn’t you find it strange that you have been there your whole life?”

Vick started to cry again, but these weren’t tears from despair, this was something deeper that hurt much more. He didn’t know why Vick made such a big deal out of it, nothing really mattered anyway.

“So, I ask you again. What is the leader planning?”

“They kill me, if I say anything. What they do to me will be a picnic in comparison to what you have done to me.”

“I have been kind so far, since we are old friends, you haven’t seen my cruelty yet.” Jack brought out one of his knives. Do you prefer your left or your right eye?”

Vick was at a loss for words.

“No preference? Well, me neither.”

Jack grabbed Vick’s head and made himself ready to gouge his left eye out. Vick lost his nerves when he saw that Jack was going to go through with his plans.

“Okay! I’ll talk!”

Jack took a step back, feeling slightly disappointed.

“The leader is planning to acquire a set of eyes for himself. They are making themselves ready for the next god hunt.”

That took Jack by surprise, when he had been a red battlelord they had participated in a lot of the god hunts but only as contractors. They had earned a lot of gold for their work, but never any eyes. Which was understandable since the Golden lords would never give them up willingly.

“Why now all of a sudden?” asked Jack suspiciously, was this some kind of trick?

“The leader believes that this is a ripe moment since Gold and Silver are busy fighting each other. The leader would never have dared to interfere with the Golden lords before now. They have since their creation been the most powerful alliance on Elnyr, but they have lost many good men already, and more to come of this war won’t end soon.”

He could sense in his mind that the red moon would be back in two weeks, so around two weeks to the next god hunt. The three most powerful factions were going to be there to be fighting over the same set of eyes. This was going to be a slaughter, and Jack of course was going to be there. He couldn’t imagine how many gifted were going to be there and he was going to slaughter as many as possible. He could feel goose bumps on his arms.

“What are you going to do with me now? I have nothing more to tell you. Since I’m not one of the nine swords, the leader never let me sit on the inner meetings.”

Jack felt wicked. “You believe in the gods, right? You might have seen them yourself, but what I mean is that you believe that the gods have your best interest at heart? You are a good man wouldn’t you say? You go the church every week and give ten percent of your gold to the priests?”

Sweat was dripping from Vick’s chin. Jack knew perfectly well that Vick wasn’t that kind of man. He brought out a gold coin. “Heads, and your head will leave your shoulders, tails and your run with your tail between your legs.”

It was hard to read Vick’s expression; he didn’t know what to make of it. He spun the gold coin into the air. Perhaps giving him the chance wasn’t the smartest option, but he didn’t care. You shouldn’t make things too predictable in a world that meant nothing.