-Family-
Twenty-four Years Ago
Oroske was leaning with his back against the railing, the only thing keeping him from falling into the Rift. He was on the job, so he wore his blue coat, a sign of his ‘apprentice’ rank. He was ready to move on, but for some reason hesitated to take his Black Cloak certification exam. Despite his status as an apprentice, he was allowed to take on jobs without his mentor. An exception to the rules. He always seemed to be an exception. He noticed it, just as he noticed his peers talking about it, complaining.
Well, it was no fault of his.
As he stared at the sky, the Ring of Stars shining brightly above, he clung to a faint, dying hope that his intel would be wrong, and that he wouldn’t have to go through with the job assigned to him tonight. Yet a part of him hoped it was right, and he could have vengeance for his siblings. His heart and mind were both conflicted. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves.
He opened them slowly as he heard booted footsteps approaching. He sighed as he looked at the only other person on the bridge - a boy barely two years older than himself.
“Uri, please,” Oroske pleaded softly, “You don’t have to do this. I’m sure if you explain yourself, Danfis will forgive you.”
The boy stopped a few feet away. He was wearing a plain white button-up shirt, tucked neatly into his black pants. He had a black jacket folded over one arm, which surprised Oroske. He thought Uri’Ari would have left his cloak behind. Maybe there was some hope.
“I can’t do that, Oroske.” He said calmly, “I know he sent you here to kill me, to ensure I don’t make it out. I know he’s had you do it to others, too.”
“Only because-”
“Shut up, already. What I did is unforgivable in his eyes. If I went back, he’d just kill me himself.” Uri’Ari summoned a glaive from his Demon Sheath. “I won’t let you stand in my way, Oroske. I’ve already killed two of our ‘siblings,’ what’s one more?”
Oroske took a step back, not in fear, but to brace himself for combat.
Hearing his brother openly admit to his murders made him wince, but in reality Oroske had killed more of them. None of them were siblings by blood, save for the twins. Instead, they were all orphans who Danfis adopted, and raised as his own. This initiative started before Oroske was born, and even before Danfis took up his current name and title. Danfis did it in waves, and many of the first group of children he raised now served as his Red Cloaks. Their family was once quite large, and now only a handful remained.
Oroske shook his head, attempting to dismiss those painful thoughts. He wasn’t entirely successful. He knew Danfis didn’t blame him entirely for the accident that killed many of them, and he since learned to control the abilities that caused it. The guilt still weighed heavy on his shoulders.
He was forcefully drawn from his thoughts as he narrowly dodged a flash of blue light, as Uri’Ari performed a lightning-fast uppercut with his glaive, the weapon’s white tassel streaming behind, pulled taught by his inertia. It was a beautiful weapon. Danfis had gifted the blue-bladed weapon to Uri’Ari when he earned his black cloak - a sort of graduation gift. Since then, Oroske hadn’t seen him fight without it.
The two were quite similar physically, roughly the same height and build. Even their appearances were similar, though Uri’Ari had red eyes in stark contrast to Oroske’s green. Their similarities stopped there. Uri’Ari always had a certain grace to him that Oroske simply couldn’t match, present even in the way he walked. His fighting was quick and brutal, yet very methodical. Uri’Ari was probably the only Hunter who didn’t care to drag out a fight, instead trying to end all of his encounters quickly and with minimal movement.
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In that, the two were complete opposites. Oroske could be brutal, but he always relished in the challenge of an encounter. He liked the slow drawing out of his enemies’ potential, and especially enjoyed seeing them run out of steam and get exhausted. He had decided that would be how he handles this battle while waiting for his opponent to arrive. He would simply defend, and ensure he remains between Uri’Ari and the Human Realm behind him. He coated a fist in orun, a raging pool of water swirling around his hand, and swung a punch towards Uri’Ari’s face.
His opponent jumped backwards, as he’d hoped. “Why did you kill them? Surely you had a reason.” Oroske asked.
“Gold has a plan,” Uri’Ari stated plainly as he stepped in, swinging at Oroske again, “I don’t know the full details, but he has promised me a place in the world he will create.” He paused, bringing his weapon around for another attack after Oroske deftly dodged again. “Gold things, Oroske, and I intend to squeeze out every secret I can.”
“Then what?” Oroske asked, punching Uri’Ari’s weapon head-on, the swirling water violently deflecting the horizontal slash upward, knocking Uri’Ari completely off balance. “Come crawling back to the Clan? What do you hope to accomplish after you get these secrets?”
Uri’Ari used the momentum of his weapon being reflected to assist in backpedalling a small distance, before spinning the glaive around and stepping in, thrusting the weapon towards Oroske’s chest. “I’ll figure that out once I get there, I suppose.” He had a wild look in his eyes as he said that.
The two clashed like this for several minutes. Oroske took small steps, giving as little ground as possible with each blow. They’d made it significantly closer to the landmass of the Human Realm before Oroske decided he was cutting it close.
He’d ask one last question before ending it, a personal curiosity. “Why those two specifically?”
“Ma’al dying is an important event for Gold’s plans, apparently. He wouldn’t tell me why,” Uri’Ari explained casually, “Henmur was because of a personal grudge. Gold told me to kill Ma’al and at least one other within our circle, so he was an easy pick.”
“An easy pick?” The idea that he saw one of his family as an ‘easy pick’ for who to kill angered Oroske greatly. Uri’Ari was in between his attacks at that moment, and Oroske decided now would be as good a time as any to end it. He flashed his Acceleration, a technique that only a few Hunters really knew about and fewer could use effectively. This let him step into range faster than Uri’Ari could swing, and he delivered a fierce punch directly to his opponent’s face.
The swirling orun around Oroske’s fist caused Uri’Ari to fly backwards in a corkscrew, landing on his front side a good ten feet away. Oroske took a few heavy breaths as he approached, and Uri’Ari began trying to stand.
“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” he said to the man, who was currently on his knees, clutching his face with one hand. He grabbed Uri’Ari by his collar, yanking him upwards, before spinning him around. Still holding him by his shirt collar, he delivered another punch, this time to the stomach. Uri’Ari’s hand fell from his face, revealing the cut up mess his earlier punch caused.
Now for the part he really didn’t like. Oroske transformed the swirling orun around his right into blades that followed along each of his fingers, extending an inch or so beyond the tips. He then thrust that hand into Uri’Ari’s chest, effortlessly sinking his fingers a couple inches into the man’s skin. Not quite at his heart, he began to channel veros - the aspect of souls. What he was about to do, he’d once done on accident to several of his close friends. He still hadn’t forgiven himself. This would be the first time he’d do it intentionally. With his soul magic, he reached for Uri’Ari’s soul, wrapping invisible tendrils of aether around it.
Then he squeezed, ramping up the intensity of his grip until-
.
Like a balloon, filled with too much air, Uri’Ari’s soul In Oroske’s perspective, it was over almost immediately, but Uri’Ari would feel something much worse. It starts with a small tear forming in the ‘bubble’ that holds your soul together, and as the aether that makes up ‘you’ rushes out, the tear increases, causing an intense burning feeling deeper than your flesh and bone. Beyond that, it also messes with your mind and body’s connection to your soul - an extremely painful experience, as you become an abomination in the eyes of Natural Law.
Uri’Ari still stood after the experience, all light gone out from his eyes. Technically, he was still alive, though he’d only last a few seconds without his soul to sustain him. Oroske would put him out of his misery, and so summoned a weapon: an ivory executioner’s blade, in the style of the Ebony Mountain’s signature weapon. A gift from Danfis, given for the express purpose of acting as his executioner. An unsavory job, one Oroske no longer felt any joy doing.
He swung the blade around effortlessly, despite its immense size. He locked onto his target, and closed his eyes before swinging horizontally at Uri’Ari’s neck. He found it easier if he didn’t have to watch the people he once called friend die. He still heard the blade cut through the flesh, a noise he’d become too familiar with.
After waiting a minute, Oroske opened his eyes, finding no trace of his old friend, save for his clothes and weapon, and a pile of dust. He collected the clothing and glaive, before heading back into town to report to Danfis.
