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Chapter 8 - Hunters Closing

  [Chapter 8 - Hunters Closing]

  I was in the air again.

  Only this time, the scenery had changed.

  I was no longer by the door but instead stood above the forest clearing, surrounded by the bodies of the fallen soldiers.

  I whirled around, a torrent of questions forming upon my lips.

  But the wolf was no longer there.

  I was by myself, floating in the open air, warmed by the glow of the midday sun.

  And the commotion of metal and people sounded around me.

  Light glinted off their armour as throngs of soldiers made their way through the trees.

  They picked up the dead with a gentle care, placing their bodies onto equally ornate litters.

  Unlike their fallen counterparts, it was clear they were of a lower rank; their armour much more standardized and many not quite fitting their wearers.

  Atreian foot soldiers.

  Legionaries.

  Evident from the blue of their fabrics.

  Yet the people they comprised were fascinatingly diverse.

  Not only could a broad range of skin tones be discerned, but some were not human at all.

  Amongst the men and dwarves, the faces of bears and lizards could be made out beneath the iron helmets they all bore.

  Some even had horns, jagged spirals of bone protruding out from foreheads of living metal.

  Their sight drove home how different the world I had come to really was; to see such distinctive anthropomorphic beings, ones I had only read about in the diary of my brother, very much alive and breathing in this other reality.

  Regardless of their differences, the soldiers were unified not only by their legion armour, but also by the man who stood at their centre.

  He had his back turned towards me but even then his authority was clear.

  The red cape flowing from his shoulders attested towards it, as did the laurel wreath sitting atop his head, a stark contrast to the aged white hair which lay beneath.

  He relayed his commands through the gesturing of his outstretched hand, barking out orders that the soldiers obeyed without question.

  My attention however was drawn instead to the scene below me.

  There, on the ground, lay the same motionless body of the soldier in silver and gold.

  Nemetus.

  Except he was no longer by himself.

  The inquisitors stood by his side, his necklace outstretched from his throat.

  In the open palm of their leader lay the vial, its smashed glass indicating no trace of the black liquid which had occupied it previously.

  She searched it with an enigmatic gaze with her expression hidden beneath the metal mask that shrouded her face.

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  “It’s gone.” Her words wrought a heavy tension in the air, and it lingered for a brief second more before it was disturbed by one of her companions.

  “Why didn’t they use something sturdier?” A man’s voice. Gruff, matching the broad build that was accentuated by his crossed arms. On his back lay a long Zweih?nder, its huge size made small by the bulk of his stature. “Who the fuck stores something like that in glass?”

  “You fool.” Another companion. A head shorter but equally as armoured, her voice snapping back at his remark. “That’s Silversong-infused glass. It doesn’t just break.”

  “Glass is glass.” He shrugged bluntly. “Glass breaks.”

  “If there’s no light he would wake.” Their leader again. She seemed to care not for their bickering as her gaze stayed unmoving from the glass in her hand. “They had to use glass to keep him from the dark.”

  Him.

  So the liquid was living, and they knew it to be so.

  It was not hard for me to recognise that the wolf had stemmed from this vial.

  No matter what he truly was.

  The man snorted in response. “It’s beneath his shirt for fuck’s sake. It’s as dark as it can get.”

  She ignored him, twirling the shards between her fingers. “The Solari didn’t take it. They wouldn't have smashed the glass otherwise. Nor could any of them act as a catalyst.”

  “So where is it?”

  Her hand was pressed against the dirt once more as she slowly trailed her fingers back.

  First from Nemetus’ body, and then to her side.

  She seemed to see something I could not, and it guided her arm further.

  Her face followed as it raised towards the treeline of the forest opposite.

  The same treeline I had run to in chase of Ansgar and Kallas.

  “A third party, they came through here.”

  “The Outworlder from the gate?” His voice had lost its snarky tone, replaced now by a cold and obvious malice.

  “The very same.” She stood up, her stare unmoving with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

  Looking closer, I could just about make out the occasional boot marks embossed within the churned dirt of the battlefield.

  Its shape was distinct, an unmistakable pattern trailing amongst the caligae and sabaton footsteps pressed down by the combatants, stumbling at first from the soldier, to the tree, and then downwards across the hill in a rushed pursuit.

  I cursed at the sight, a swear unheard by the figures in my dream.

  The marks were faint, but upon closer inspection they would only serve to confirm the inquisitor’s suspicions.

  “Are you guys finished?”

  A new voice, one that came from behind me.

  I spun round to see the commander ascending the hill to join them.

  His face betrayed his experience as he wore the countenance of a veteran soldier.

  The scar cutting across his left eye made that very clear. It traced its way down from his forehead to the top of his white beard, and as he cast a sad look towards Nemetus, a familiarity became apparent in his eyes.

  “Consul,” the leader nodded. I could hear the respect she held in her voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  He remained silent, but he cast a forlorn smile and a soft wave as he nodded back.

  She continued nonetheless, “We’ve found the vial but the subject’s been taken. We’re heading south to follow.”

  “This is where we part ways then.” His words were calm. They betrayed nothing as to his thoughts on the loss. Instead he gestured behind him, to the litters filled with the bodies of the Atreian dead. “We will be returning to Northgaard. We must see to it that they are given a proper burial for their service.”

  “And so it shall be done.” With that she turned, handing the shattered remnants to the giant by her side.

  Without another word, the inquisitors began their way towards the treeline, armoured boots crunching through the swaying grass.

  I breathed out a sigh of relief.

  The village was still several day’s march away. If they were to go there first, it would at least give me some respite to figure out how I could hide myself from them.

  Especially if the inquisitor knew some manner of magic which led her straight to me.

  The commander spun round as well, heading down towards the soldiers readying the litters for the long march. As he did so, a legionary ran up, sweat dripping down his face in an obvious indication of haste.

  “My lord!” He threw a salute, his actions hurried but still proper. “A report from the village in the southwest! There were no signs of any Solari, but the place had been overrun by bandits.”

  I felt a sense of foreboding, already fearing what he would say next.

  The consul did not seem to share the same sentiment, groaning as he contemplated the information relayed to him.

  “Bandits?” he sighed. His annoyance was clear. “As if we don’t have enough to deal with already.”

  “It has already been dealt with, my lord. A man took care of them before heading northwards.”

  My heart dropped.

  Slowly, I turned my head to look, and sure enough the inquisitors had stopped.

  They made no movements, but it was clear they were listening in with interest.

  The old man on the other hand raised an eyebrow, oblivious to the group behind him. “A whole bandit party dealt with by a single man? Even if they’re not that organised, that's still an impressive feat.”

  “Yes my lord. The villagers said he was dressed in black, some sort of foreign clothing neither Atreian or Solarian. He left a few days ago heading towards Northgaard.”

  “What luck, consul.”

  My stomach twisted.

  The inquisitors had come back, a bemusement obvious in their leader’s voice.

  “It seems we’ll be going the same way after all.”

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