Amadeus exited the temple courtyard and entered the dimly lit temple. He strolled through a long corridor, intending to go upstairs to his study, when he sensed some familiar souls approaching. He changed direction and began walking rapidly to the entrance to greet the guests. He walked towards the temple doors and picked up a scent that was easily discernible from the other smells of Miganya; the scent of lavender. He drew closer to the temple doors and heard some voices that he easily recognized.
He frowned in annoyance and opened the doors with a sigh. Standing before him were the seven kings of Alathia: Niratan, his fist outstretched, as if he were intending to knock on the door, Gorthag’an, towering above the rest of the kings and smiling warmly, Axcellus, standing silent and stern, his arms crossed, Kijera and Kijara standing close by each other, Aorthang, on his berserker’s back and Fyrnas, grinning cheerfully.
“Ahh!” Said Niratan gladly. “Our hunter is here.”
“What do you want?” Amadeus asked.
Niratan held his arms out at his sides, “I wish to speak with you, nothing more.”
The hunter glared at Niratan, but motioned for them to come in.
“Except you,” Amadeus pointed at Gorthag’an. “You won’t fit.”
“Alrighty,” he complied. “I’ll stay right here.” And he sat down on the steps with a massive thud that shook the ground.
Amadeus shook his head. “Try not to break anything,” He told Gorthag’an.
Gorthag’an chuckled. “I’ll do me best.,” he replied through his thick black beard. The six other kings entered the temple and Amadeus closed the doors behind them. As they collectively walked down the halls, Amadeus noticed that the kings were not dressed in their regular kingly garb. Instead, they were wearing combat gear; leather trousers and boots, with light armour around their shoulders. They all carried swords on their backs. They were armed for battle.
“I see you’ve prepared yourselves for the Miganyan streets,” Amadeus commented.
Niratan chuckled, “Our normal clothes weren’t as practical.”
They continued walking in silence. Even Kijera and Kijara, who were usually incessantly chatty, were quiet. Amadeus almost smiled; he never expected the kings to be afraid of him. As they walked, they passed a child, who was also walking through the temple. The child gave a small wave to the hunter and the hunter waved back. The child grinned widely, showing her missing teeth.
Sophia, the hunter reminded himself. Her name is Sophia.202Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCDAJq2pr6h
“How many kids do you have?” Fyrnas asked.
“They’re not mine,” Amadeus responded coldly. “I just look after them.”
Fyrnas raised his eyebrow doubtfully and frowned. “You have a bunch of kids that aren’t yours in your temple?”
“I just keep them safe.”
The party ascended the staircase to the second floor of the temple and entered the hunter’s study. Kijera and Kijara glanced around at the shelves on the walls in disgust. The shelves were filled with teeth, eyes preserved in glass jars and bottles of blood. All of them were the hunter’s trophies, collected over the five years after he was born. Although the hunter had the appearance of a fully grown man, he was in actuality, only five years old.
The hunter entered the study last, closing the door behind him. He walked up to his desk and sat on the edge, arms crossed.
“I assume you’re here to ask me for help again?” he asked.
Niratan nodded. “We need you now, more than ever. We came here personally to convince you of how dire the situation is.”
“Why not go to The Scar yourselves?” The hunter challenged.
“We can’t. We may be strong, but our battle with the Tenebris Dominus left us with very little energy. So little that I myself nearly gave up on life and prepared to meet Ciraan. Until our soul energy regenerates, we can’t fight the dark again.”
“Excuse me,” Said Kijara timidly, his face red as a beet.
“We would like to go outside,” Kijera said, beside him, just as timidly.
The hunter shrugged. “Go wherever you want,”
The twins exited quickly, with the eagerness of a bird leaving its cage.
Niratan spoke again, “Do you know of the forgotten city?”
“If I did, it wouldn’t be forgotten, would it?”
“It’s name is forgotten, but the city itself is not.”
“I’ve never heard of it.” Amadeus crossed his arms. “What is it? Where is it?”
Fyrnas stepped forward to speak. “It’s a fortress built directly on top of The Scar.”
The hunter frowned.
Why? Who builds a fortress on top of a giant hole?
“Why would you let a fortress be built there?” Amadeus questioned.
“Well…” Niratan scratched his neck sheepishly. “We didn’t know it existed until a year ago.”
Amadeus sighed, irritated that an entire city could be built while the kings were unaware.
“We think it was intended to contain anything that would exit The Scar,” Fyrnas continued. “Even though the city succeeded in containing anything physical, there is still dark seeping out of the scar at an alarming rate. Every single inhabitant is either dead or corrupted.”
“Why hasn’t the dark reached anywhere else?”
“The corrupted are basically bombs, like the dwarves make” Niratan stepped in. “You know that human bodies and souls are weak?”
Amadeus nodded. “Of course.”
“The dark energy that these people absorb can only be contained for so long. None of the bodies are strong enough to contain it. So, when their bodies can’t take it anymore, they explode into nothingness.”
“So they die before they can even leave the city?” Amadeus asked.
“Usually, yes.”
“Usually?” Amadeus repeated.
“Some escape and attack nearby villages, destroying them in the process.”
“How did you find out?” The hunter inquired.
“We’ve had several reports from different cities, villages and hamlets saying that strange creatures have been attacking their inhabitants, killing them or corrupting them in the process. That’s why we need your help.”
“So, you want me to kill any corrupted that escape?”
“Yes,” Niratan confessed. “And some other things.”
The hunter sat pensively. You want me to tear down the city walls as well?
“Go on.”
“We need you to enter the city and purge it. Make sure that no corrupted remain and that the dark stays inside the scar. There were beasts at The Citadel as well, but they have been taken care of.”
“What if I refuse?”
Niratan shrugged. “It’s your decision, I won’t force you.”
Amadeus found the thought of the kings forcing him to do anything almost amusing. He nearly smiled.
“But know this,” Niratan looked the hunter directly in his eyes. Bright orange eyes. Amadeus saw the sincerity in them, as well as fear.
“Hundreds of people have died already. The dark is rising again and it needs to die. I’ve seen the dark. I fought the Tenebris Dominus alongside my brothers. And as a hunter, you have a duty to stop the dark and we need you. Consider this before giving your answer.”
Amadeus sat on his desk in silence.
Well you haven’t given me much of a choice, anyway, He thought.
“Hunter,” spoke Aorthang, for the first time since arriving. “Walk with me.”
“Very well.”
Amadeus rose and exited his study and descended the stairs behind Aorthang and his berserker, leaving the other kings in his study.
Aorthang was a very frail man; he looked like a living skeleton. His body was so weak that he had to be carried on the back of his berserker at all times. But the hunter knew his strength. Aorthang’s strength was not physical, his power came from his soul. Aorthang had the most powerful soul out of all the kings, the hunter could easily sense it.
Finally, when they reached the courtyard, Aorthang spoke,
“You have a magnificent temple,” he said.
“Thank you, but it’s not mine. The temple and everyone inside it serves Damascha.” The hunter said.
“What about the children? Who do they serve?”
“They will make that decision when they are ready.”
Aorthang’s berserker walked him into the courtyard and gently set him down under a thin maple tree in a small patch of grass. Amadeus stood on his right, while the berserker stood on his left. Aorthang slouched against the trunk of the tree for a short time before speaking, while his berserker loomed beside him silently, his red hood covering the upper half of his face in a shadow. The berserker stood at least seven feet tall, with large, round arms and a short beard that went down to his collarbone. In his right hand, he held a tall glaive that was almost as tall as he was. The berserker had an incredibly strong soul as well.
“I have no doubt that you care deeply about all these children,” Aorthang gestured at the children playing in the courtyard. “Even if you’re unwilling to admit it.”
“I am not ashamed of my affection,” Amadeus said defensively.
Aorthang seemed to ignore him.
“You do your best to keep them safe, you take good care of them.” Aorthang looked up at the hunter. “But you cannot keep them safe forever.”
“Yes I can,” Amadeus said.
Aorthang shook his head, making the blond curls on his head bounce. “The dark is stronger than you know. Stronger than you, stronger than me. Most likely even stronger than Damascha.”
“Get to the point,” Amadeus commanded.
“My point is that the dark will spread. It won’t stop at the forgotten city. The dark consumes everything, it is never satisfied, it never stops. It corrupts nearly everything in its path. Even the elves knew that.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to help, you’re wasting your time,” Amadeus said.
“I’ve already made up my mind.”
Aorthang sat up. “And what is your decision?”
“I do know the dark, more than you realise. I am aware of the destruction it reaps. Your brother is right, I was created to destroy the dark.” Amadeus sat down beside the king.
“And for the sake of these children, I must destroy every evil thing in this world.”
Amadeus looked around the courtyard, watching the children playing cheerfully. Kijera and Kijara were also engaged in entertaining the children with their magic. They would create little birds made out of light that would flutter around the children’s heads, until disintegrating into golden glitter. The children giggled as they tried to grab the sparkles out of the air with their small hands.
Yes. Every evil thing.
“Your brothers are good with children,” Amadeus commented.
Aorthang chuckled softly, “They are much like children themselves. So full of energy and curiosity. Perhaps that is why they get along so well with the young ones.”
Aorthang beckoned his berserker over and was lifted onto his back.
“Thank you, hunter,” Aorthang said.
“It is my duty, Amadeus replied.
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