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Chapter 6 - The Crimson Hunter

Calduran Fortress

A blue bird the size of an eagle was silhouetted against the pale moon and perched atop the battlement of the Calduran Fortress. It was a rare bird, known as an arctic swift, and was usually only seen in the icy plains of Freljord.

The swift tilted its head as it watched Garrick - Crimson Hunter of the Fifth Order - ascend the towering walls that surrounded the fortress.

The Crimson Hunter’s apprentice, Talasin, followed close behind, breathing heavily as he clutched a second rope and slowly climbed up to meet his master.

The wind, a howling unseen monster, threatened to tear Talasin from the wall at any moment. His arms burned with the effort, and his hands gripped the rope with ice numb fingers.

The arctic swift cocked its head and chirped a single note. The sound echoed off the rocks and the hunters froze in place.

A moment later, a guard approached holding a flaming torch which illuminated the night sky with red light.

With his right hand, Talasin tightened his grip on the rope, and his left hand strayed to the throwing knife on his belt.

His master saw the movement and shook his head.

Talasin let go of the knife and waited, hoping the guard would not spot the grappling hooks.

The guard breathed out a cloud of mist and spun on his heels returning to his post.

His footsteps faded and Talasin sighed in relief. He strained his muscles and continued his ascent.

His master reached the top first and held out a hand to the apprentice. Talasin took the hand and Garrick hauled him up onto the battlements.

Talasin landed on the balls of his feet and quickly pulled up his rope and fastened it inside the large riding cloak he wore.

The bird flapped its wings and lifted into the sky to scout the surroundings, and Talasin followed his master’s example and kept low and flexed his hands to regain feeling in his fingers.

“Two guards,” Garrick said as he received the information from his familiar. “Standing around a fire, so they have no night vision.”

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Garrick drew a dagger and padded silently along the battlements towards the guards. Talasin waited a few seconds and then followed.

There were two guards, each dressed in chain mail and their faces hidden behind steel masks. Talasin crouched down and pressed himself against the stone wall and watched one of the guards approach the other.

“I can't believe this,” the first guard said.

“I know, I am telling him I should have taken the job at the stable yard,” the second replied.

The first guard moved closer and tapped the other on the shoulder. The second guard turned around and opened his mouth to speak.

Garrick lunged at the second guard. The pommel of his dagger connected with the back of the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

The first guard opened his mouth to shout a warning, but just as he did, Talasin sprung forward and swung the back of his dagger at the man's face, hoping to hit him in the temple. The blow hit the guard in the neck, and he fell backwards, but before he could stand the arctic swift descended on the man and ice rippled out of the bird’s talons, freezing the guard in place before he could shout out a warning.

Garrick shook his head. “Clumsy. Don't strike unless you are assured of victory.”

Frostbeak chirped.

Talasin felt his face redding. He nodded quickly.

Garrick patted him on the shoulder and then turned to the bird. "Make sure you unfreeze him before we leave."

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Talasin crept through the empty hallways. His steps were silent and muffled by the tar dipped moccasins he wore.

In the distance he heard voices and Talasin's heart leapt into his throat. It sounded like two men arguing.

The hunters moved forward cautiously. There was something about the voices that made Talasin uneasy. They didn't sound like two men, more like one man talking to himself. Talasin held his breath and crouched down.

"You're not going to get away with this," the voice said.

"I will. You'll never see me again."

"You think there are no witnesses? No one knows what happened to them. What we did. Or who is responsible."

"They don't matter. They're dead."

Talasin swallowed hard and tried to make out the voice. It sounded like a man. A man with a commanding tone.

"What are you doing here?" the voice asked.

Garrick flattened himself against the wall and moved closer. He stopped five feet away from the door and gestured for Talasin to take a position on the opposite side.

Once he was in position, Talasin peered through a crack in the door. He could see a portly looking man with a thin beard and a deep furrowed brow. His eyes were sunken into his skull and he was wearing a blue robe. He had a book in one hand.

Something else stirred in the room, and Talasin shifted his position to see the second person.

It was a woman sitting on a bench next to the man. Her skin was pale and her hair white as snow. He could not see her face, but he saw that her hands were folded together and that she wore a dress of red velvet.

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Talasin saw the man's lips moving and realized that the man must be reading from a scroll.

"And then the knight Validora drew her sword and the evil wizard shrieked in terror," the man said, and a shrill laugh came from somewhere else in the room.

A child's voice.

He’s reading a bedtime story to his daughter.

"Stop it!" the woman shouted. "You're frightening our little girl."

"She likes it," the man said.

Talasin watched the man turn around. He could see the outline of a face under the hood. It was the Duke of Caldura.

Talasin's eyes narrowed. The Talamasca had uncovered the Duke's body in a frozen lake a week earlier. The man had been murdered and his blood drained.

"Father?" the child said.

"Yes, my dear, I'll finish the story but no fighting scenes, I don't want you to be too afraid to sleep."

The man turned back to the scroll.

Talasin saw his master reaching for the amulet he wore around his neck. Garrick grasped it firmly and muttered a single word, and blue light streaked down the passageway and collided with the amulet.

Garrick kicked open the door - a shimmering blue sword trailing snowflakes in his hand.

Talasin drew his own dagger and charged.

The lady screamed and clutched her daughter tight against her chest, but Talasin ignored them. His job was to make sure the Skinwalker did not leave the room.

Garrick swung the ice blade at the man's head. It struck the man between the eyes and shattered his skull.

The man collapsed onto the floor, his head split in half. The body twitched once and then lay still.

Garrick spun toward the woman and raised his sword.

"No! Don't hurt us!" she cried.

Her voice was pleading. She was frightened and shaking.

Talasin stared at his master in confusion, why would he point his sword at her.

“Master,” he said, and just as he did the woman threw the child straight at him with great force.

Talasin caught the shrieking child, but the woman was already descending on him, her face contorted in demonic rage.

Two demons. Light, we didn't plan for that.

The woman caught Talasin with a crushing grip on his throat. She lifted him off the ground and held him up like a puppet.

He released the child, and she scrambled away and ran to her bleeding father.

"Curse you Talamasca scum." The woman's words were muffled as her demonic visage tore through the skin mask she wore. "We will destroy you all. Our victory will be glorious."

“Help me, master,” he yelled.

Garrick stepped back from the fight and said, “You trained for this. My help now would only hinder your growth.”

Talasin flailed about, trying to push the demon back, but her grip was too strong. He tried to focus on the mental exercises, but it was hard to do when it felt like his throat was about to be crushed.

He realized then that no hero was coming. His Master would watch him die. This was his test, survive and show that he was strong enough to be in the order or die.

Talasin gritted his teeth and reached into the pouch hanging from his belt. He pulled out a vial of glowing white liquid. He’d never enjoyed studying alchemy, but he was glad he took his Master’s advice and came prepared for anything. He poured the tincture of light essence over the woman's hands.

The woman laughed and said, "Blessed water that does not work on my kind."

Talasin's lips moved silently as he whispered the invocation. He couldn't speak out loud. He was losing oxygen quickly, he knew in a few more seconds he’d pass out.

The woman stopped laughing and looked down at her hands as they began to burn. She dropped Talasin and stumbled backwards and fell onto the floor. Her skin began to smoke and bubble. Small wisps of black smoke rose from her burning flesh, and the smell of singed hair filled the air.

"Filthy human scum," she said, tears streaming down her face. "Our Lord will avenge us."

Garrick walked forward, his blue sword shimmering in the lamp light. "Your lord is dead," he spat, and he raised his sword.

"Please," the child said. "Don't hurt my mommy."

Garrick paused. He glanced at the child and then back down at the dying Skinwalker as she began to crawl along the floor, trying desperately to get away from the flames consuming her. Her skin bubbled and revealed shimmering scales all over her body.

Garrick hesitated for a moment and then said, "Close your eyes, child."

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Cathedral of The Fifth Order.

Talasin followed his master into the great cathedral of the Fifth Order. The ceiling was high and arched, and the walls were covered in frescoes depicting the Talamasca's history.

The floor was made of marble, and the golden mosaic tile patterns of winged creatures were intricate and gave a sense of mysticism to the whole cathedral.

Talasin walked slowly toward the central altar. The altar itself was large and made of ornately carved marble, and statues of Belladeon in the different stages of her ascension stood about it. The statue of the Goddess of Light in all her glory seemed to stare directly at him.

Garrick moved towards it and knelt before the statue of the long haired goddess wielding a two-edged sword. He touched his hand to his head and said the holy benediction, and then he cleansed his hands in the purification bowl and stood up.

Talasin quickly followed his example, and then they both stood up when they heard a clear, crisp voice speaking.

"You're late brother, Garrick."

Talasin turned around and saw Archon Gwenllian standing behind them. She wore a long white dress. Her hair was flowing free and golden, just like the statue of Belladeon. Her face was beautiful but stern, and she smiled at him. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"We ran into trouble." Garrick said.

"Did you kill the Skinwalker?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And where is the mother now?"

"Dead."

The Archon frowned.

"There were two," Talasin said quickly. “Both parents.”

The woman's face fell, and Talasin felt a pang of regret for causing her pain.

"What became of the child?" asked the Archon.

"Given to the Second Order," said Garrick. “We collected the demon’s soul stones and have added them to the well of ascension.”

The Archon nodded and then said, “Did you hear about the zombie outbreak?”

Garrick shook his head a fraction. The talk was on the lips of every citizen in Astraeus.

“We have received reports claiming that there were two mages fighting in the streets on Cheapside,” said the Archon. “There was an explosion. Many people lost their lives, but they started coming back to life as zombies.”

Talasin tilted his head and watched the Archon, he had not heard that piece of news. “How is this possible?” he asked. “Zombies do not just appear. If that were so, the whole of Ivalice would be infected.”

Garrick glared at him, and Talasin quickly fell silent with an apologetic shake of his head.

The Archon smiled at him and said, “The Lore Masters of the Fourth Order are investigating the incident. An inquiry has even been sent to the Prophet, I doubt Aurelian will speak to us, his disdain for the Talamasca is as legendary as his gift.”

“Has the Second Order moved in to offer support?” asked Garrick.

The Archon nodded, “They have set up a command station in Cheapside and are offering relief aid to the families of the victims. Unfortunately, this damned war in Brevale has drained much of the Orders budget. We will need all the volunteers we can muster to get through this crisis.”

“We will head there straight away and offer what aid we can,” said Garrick.

The Archon raised her hand. "I'm sorry, but I have another task for you, brother Garrick. A monster has appeared at the Wits End Cemetery. I need you to exterminate it."

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