6 - Hunt in the Shadows

Blood-soaked mud squelched beneath Gareth's worn leather boots as he picked his way through the carnage. Goblin entrails clung to oak bark like obscene prayer flags, and the copper stench of death mingled with something fouler still. He pressed a dirt-stained sleeve against his hooked nose, cursing the day he'd accepted coin for this wretched task.

"These damned creatures bleed like stuck pigs," he muttered, his voice muffled by fabric. Dark hair hung limp across his brow, streaked with sweat despite the northern chill.

Behind him, Aldric moved like a hunting cat through the underbrush. Where Gareth stumbled and cursed, his companion flowed between the trees with predatory grace. Scars mapped his weathered face, pale lines against sun-darkened skin, and his grey eyes missed nothing. A wolf in man's clothing, some called him in the taverns down south.

"Need them breathing for the ritual," Aldric said, crouching beside a pool of steaming green ichor. His fingers came away warm when he tested it. "You know what our master's ally requires."

"Aye, another bloody errand for coin." Gareth spat into the rotting leaves. "Sometimes I wonder if we're the hunters or the hunted in this game."

Thorns caught at Aldric's black cloak as he rose, studying the erratic trail that wound deeper into shadow. Ancient trees pressed close here, their gnarled limbs creating a tunnel of perpetual dusk. "Close now. Smell the fear on them."

"We near the old lake?" Gareth's hand drifted to the iron chains coiled at his belt.

"Aye. They'll make for the village beyond, thinking water might wash off the scent." Aldric wiped his bloodied fingers clean on rough bark. "Fools don't know we—"

Both men froze.

A goblin, no bigger than a child and twice as wretched, cowered against the moss-slick trunk of a dying elm. Blood seeped through its gnarled fingers where it clutched a gash across its thigh. Yellow eyes darted between the hunters like a cornered rat's, and when it tried to flee, the wounded leg buckled.

"Well, well." Gareth's thin lips curved in something that might have been a smile on a kinder face. "Look what the others left behind."

The creature raised trembling hands, mouth opening to release pitiful squeaks that echoed through the forest like a babe's cry. Tears carved clean tracks through the grime coating its mottled hide.

"Pathetic little wretch." Gareth knelt beside the goblin, studying its terror with cold amusement. "He’s actually weeping. Do you see this, Aldric?"

"Stop playing with it." Aldric was already moving past them both, grey eyes scanning the treeline. "Two more still run free, and they carry blades."

Gareth sighed, looking down at the goblin's pleading gesture. Tiny hands pressed together in supplication, as if prayer might save it from what was coming. "Won't work on me, creature. Know what you are."

Iron snapped shut around the goblin's throat with a sound like breaking bone. Gareth hauled it upright with casual brutality, then shoved it forward into stumbling motion. The chain rattled with each faltering step.

Time crawled as they pushed deeper into the forest's heart. Here the trees grew ancient and vast, their interwoven branches weaving a canopy so thick that twilight reigned eternal. Then, through gaps in the wooden cathedral, water gleamed black as polished obsidian.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Aldric's fist shot up, freezing their small procession. His companion opened his mouth to speak, but those scarred fingers brooked no argument.

"What?" Gareth's whisper barely stirred the air.

"Someone at the water's edge."

They peered through leaves and shadow, breath held. A young man stood watchful beside the lake, one hand resting easy on his sword's grip. But their eyes fixed on the girl seated cross-legged near the dark water. Mist coiled around her small form like living smoke drawn to flame, and power hummed in the air around her.

"Those ember hairs," Gareth breathed, voice barely audible above the lake's gentle lapping. "She is the one our lord spoke of?"

"Aye. Youngest of the bloodline."

Gareth squinted through the gloom, trying to make sense of the boy's features at such a distance. Something in the youth's bearing sent ice down his spine. "What of the lad? Their get?"

Aldric studied the young man with calculating eyes. "Could be. Tales reached far down south of the bastard she carried those decades ago. Though he bears no family resemblance I can see." A pause. "Why do you ask?"

"Something about his eyes..." Gareth's hand found his wand's familiar grip. Then movement caught his attention, and his blood chilled. "God’s gracious. There they are."

Two goblins crouched in the underbrush near the water's edge, crude blades glinting dully in the filtered light. They waited like coiled springs, ready to strike when the siblings wandered within reach.

"We can't let them harm her." Gareth raised his wand. "Need her whole for the task."

Aldric's fingers closed around his companion's wrist, forcing the weapon down. "Wait."

"Have you lost your mind? They'll—"

"I would see that boy fight. He carries the blade." The scarred man's voice carried an edge that silenced all protest. "If he carries the old blood, it will show when steel is drawn. It would have awakened by now."

They watched in tense silence as the scene unfolded. The girl's meditation deepened, ethereal energy building around her like storm clouds gathering strength. Her brother maintained his vigilant stance, but something in his bearing spoke of coiled violence barely held in check.

Then the goblins struck.

What followed defied all expectations. The boy moved with inhuman grace, his blade singing through air in perfect arcs that spoke of training no peasant should possess. Steel met flesh with wet precision, and within heartbeats, both creatures lay dead in spreading crimson pools.

Gareth felt his breath catch. "How in the gods' name did he do that? No runes on his steel, no magic I could sense..."

Aldric's eyes had narrowed to slits, studying the youth who now trembled over the corpses. "There’s... more to him than first glimpse reveals."

"But he's no threat to us," Gareth protested. "She bred with some peasant cunt. What else would we expect from such a union?"

"Perhaps." Doubt colored Aldric's voice now, uncertainty that hadn't been there before. "But look at the girl. She truly is her daughter. Bred with her pure blood. When she wakes, she’ll be a force to fear with."

They observed as the siblings prepared to depart, the girl's failed awakening evident in her slumped shoulders and her brother's protective stance. Yet something lingered in the air around the boy, something that made the hair on Gareth's arms stand on end.

Aldric began to fade back into the forest's embrace, his companion and their chained captive following like wraiths. As darkness swallowed them, his voice carried one last time over the wind. "Our lord would be pleased to know about the discovery. We have been capturing these creatures for this very day. Everything is almost prepared."

Behind them, the lake's obsidian surface reflected empty sky, as if the encounter had been a mere fever dream. But in the forest's depths, eyes that had witnessed too much continued their watch. Plans long in the making began to shift like pieces on a board where the very rules had changed without warning.