《Hollow Ocean: A Gothic Saga》


 Chapter 1

    On a new winter''s day, a hunter marked his newest prey...


    Far east of the Fericire countryside were the Black Woods of the Killarney Province. The region was colloquially named as such by its residents due to the abundance of trees in the area.


    The trees were black as coal, large and tall as their branches stretched uncontrollably and entangled into other trees like vines. The leaves were so thick that it could block out any ray of sunlight, leaving the inside of the woods shrouded in an eternal darkness.


    Elsewhere, an old merchant drove his truck toward the edge of the forest, right by the nearby village of Veltz. Beside him on the passenger sat a hunter, a pale man of nineteen years, staring blankly against the window.


    His short ashen grey hair was graciously brushed back, and round spectacles with blue lenses were tightly concealed around his violet eyes. He wore a black jacket underneath a matching overcoat. Around his neck was a dark blue cravat tied with a small emblem of a lion. His sword, a tall yet thin beauty of a blade with a simple swept hilt, was attached to his belt.


    "We''re nearly there, sir." He spoke to his passenger beside him. "Best be cautious. I heard numerous people from the nearby villages have gone missing around this area for the past few months. The Magistrate had already sent for five other hunters in this mission but none have returned so far."


    "A great swell of pity for those unfortunate souls," the hunter replied. "No wonder the Magistrate doesn''t have much faith in my arrival. So what do you think lurks in that forest, good sir?"


    The merchant was silent for a moment. "I don''t know much, the locals in this region believe that a witch lives in the forest, luring the masses into the darkness to use their able bodies as food to feast upon. Others say it was a hideous monster, with the forest as her territory."


    "Have they ever sent anyone to investigate this forest?" The hunter asked. There wasn''t any hint of concern or sincerity in the tone of his voice, just a cold calmness.


    "There was, sir." The merchant continued. "The local military led an expedition through these woods a week ago in search of some missing villagers. But not a single man has returned. They say these woods are enchanted by the witch; they have a way of drawing anyone deep into its wretched heart and trapping them inside without a way out."


    Normally, stories like these would give his previous passengers dread upon hearing them. But the young hunter remained unfazed. He simply replied with a gentle nod.


    The merchant was surprised by the hunter''s nonchalant behavior, but brushed it off to keep his composure. "Say, lad, aren''t you a little scared to take on an assignment like this? Anyone, even outsiders, pissed their pants just mentioning it. Not a single soul ever set foot outside those woods ever lived to escape it."


    "If that is the case, then where do these stories of this witch come from?" The hunter asked, still not looking away from the horizon. "Somebody must''ve survived long enough to tell a tale."


    "You''re a peculiar one, lad." The merchant said. "Most hunters I''ve ever met only boast about the deal of gold they procure from their prey."


    "Most people with that mindset don''t tend to live long," the hunter retorted, still looking at the horizon. "My grandfather once told me that a hunter shouldn''t look for gold and riches in the pursuit of a monster, but rather in how dangerous they are.


    "The smaller, less threatening ones, a common soldier can handle just fine. But it''s the ones that lived long that I need to look out for. Monsters that inspired countless bedtime stories, folk tales, and the lot have earned their reputation by how they''ve managed to survive for so many years. That''s what hunters should be aware of. A worthy foe that more than lived up to their influence over time."


    Without even looking back, the hunter stared at the merchant through the reflection at the car window, his violet eyes gleaming brightly through his glasses. He needn''t say another word, but the merchant nervously swallowed up his worries.


    Soon the black woods came into view from a distance. As if out of instinct, the merchant stepped on the brakes and the truck stopped. He began to shiver terribly, as though a terrible presence surrounded those woods.


    "This is where I must leave you, hunter." The merchant spoke to him as the hunter stepped out of the truck. "These woods attract a malevolent aura that even the wildlife are too afraid to go near. Evil lives in that forest."


    "I can tell just by looking at it." The hunter remained unfazed by what the merchant was trying to tell him. "Need not worry, sir. I won''t be long."


    With an uncertain nod, the merchant stirred the engines open and turned the truck around, leaving the young hunter all alone by the edge of the forest. A trail of a foul stench, possibly that of a monster, led deeper into the darkness.


    "Only one way out of this." He simply uttered under a deep breath. His hand was already placed on the hilt of his sword. He took a step into the forest, feeling the light of the sun grow dimmer with each step inside. He felt the monster''s stench fill the air around him.


    And soon enough, the hunter was completely cradled in darkness. The hunter snapped his fingers together and sparks ignited from the tips. Eventually, he concentrated his mind a little harder and a small orb of fire appeared floating from his palm as a light source.


    Blood was all around him, the hunter thought as he sniffed. The scent was strangely originating from the trees surrounding him. It was curious. The hunter took a closer look at one of the trees. He removed his left glove and touched the bark.


    It was warm, no, it was pulsating like it was alive. Then the hunter had an idea. From his right boot, he pulled out his dagger and carefully pushed it into the wood. Blood began to drip from the cut, cold and thick. The hunter heard a faint moan of pain carried by the wind as he drove the blade deeper.


    "Fascinating," the hunter said, wiping the bloody dagger with his handkerchief.


    The hunter ventured further into the woods when he caught a whiff of freshly-dribbled blood from the distance. A survivor and a wounded one at that, the hunter deduced. He ran toward the source when the faint sounds of a man''s painful moan became louder.


    Eventually, the hunter came across a soldier sitting on his knees. He seemed to be asleep, though the heavy bags under his eyes meant that he hadn''t slept for a long time before. His body was covered in tree branches, sprouting dark red leaves. Some managed to grow its way into his mouth and his left ear.


    His mouth all the way down to his body was painted in dried blood, but he kept dribbling out more. He woke in a daze when the light from the Hunter''s fire flashed near his eye, but as soon as his eyes met his, once hopelessly dim now flickered with desperation.


    "Oh no..." The soldier gasped in confusion. "How long have I slept?"


    "Save your breath." The hunter told him, undisturbed by his words. "I''m here to kill the witch. Have you seen it?"


    "It was no witch! And there is no killing her!" The soldier coughed up blood. "It was a monster. She took a cut from a sword and healed instantly from it. She was so fast, we barely saw her when she ambushed our scouting party and... And..."


    "You''re the only one standing." The hunter noted. "Or rather, she''s saving you for last. Can you move?"


    The soldier shuddered before he spoke. "I can''t move my damn body... She forced something in my throat after I was defeated... A seed..."


    The hunter stroked his chin and eyed his surroundings, carefully assessing the situation. At his feet were skulls and bones He returned his gaze to the soldier. "I can cut you free. I still have the time, after all." The hunter gripped on his scabbard.


    "No... No, kill me now..." The soldier mournfully replied. "It''s a better fate than-"


    And before the hunter knew it, the soldier suddenly stopped talking and vomited over the ground. Out came a puddle of blood, but floating amongst it were black leaves. He returned his eyes, now brownish and wet with sap, toward the Hunter, who kept observing with inhuman calm.


    "No, she''s turning me into one of them! Kill me before she takes me, please-"


    He pleaded to the hunter before his body shook violently. Before the hunter knew it, he saw the soldier''s skin dry up and turn into bark. His limbs became stiff and cracked loudly, his body stretched and contorted as he grew and transformed uncontrollably. His fingers grew longer as they reached out, each turning into a branch or more adorned with black leaves.


    As the hunter observed carefully, the body of what was the soldier twisted and turned until it completely hardened into a giant blackwood tree just like all the others surrounding the hunter. A cold humid air shrouded the darkness. The hunter took a deep breath, and placed a hand on his scabbard.


    "Ah, another hunter sent to destroy my beloved garden." A soft yet maddening voice whispered into his ear, but the hunter was all alone. The staggering smell of blood filled the air like a thick fog, clouding his sense of smell.


    "Beautiful, isn''t it? You could never see such art in the world outside this forest. Age has thoroughly ruined their youth, their blood. I... simply gave them a little spell to make their lives deliciously better for all eternity."


    As your personal blood bags, the hunter thought. Now he realized why the trees bleed as he cut through the bark. But the answer only left him mildly satisfied rather than scared. Judging from the abundance of blackwood trees in the forest, she got used to poor peasants and foolish soldiers as food. Like clockwork, he immediately assessed the right tactic to use against her.


    "I must say, what interesting pieces you have here," the hunter lied flamboyantly, even forcing a smirk to fool her. "It''d be a waste to kill me now when I''m just now admiring your work."


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    The woods around him hissed in the winds. The hunter knew that his words got to her; the witch would never expect someone who couldn''t break down at the mere sight of her "art".


    "Well? Nothing to say?" The hunter taunted. "Still, before you inevitably kill me and turn me into a tree as well, I like to personally see the artist behind this piece. She should be well congratulated, no?"


    The woods were silent for a mere moment. "So be it, hunter," it answered.


    Just then, the hunter heard the sound of twigs snapping and the dirt crunching under foot. The overbearing stench dissipated and the hunter can track her scent more clearly. She smelled of poison oak and swamp water. He turned around and saw her, steadily walking toward her.


    The Beast that hounded the black forest of Killarney was no more than a fair maiden clothed only in muddy rags. Her hair was as pale as her skin, and twigs and leaves were tangled around her locks. The pool of human remains crunched against her bare feet which have long been painted in dirt and dry blood. Her pink red eyes were wide open, locked in a glassy stare against the hunter''s.


    The hunter needed to see the witch with his own eyes but now that he saw her, he found himself mildly shaken by her ghastly aura. He was taught that vampires use fear to tenderize their prey, so that was reason enough not to give her any.


    "So both tales are true." The young hunter spoke. "They each spoke of a witch and a monster. But here I see you as you truly are... A vampire. Hundreds of years old at most."


    "Interesting..." The hag tilted its head as it circled the hunter. "You are not like the other hunters... I smell no glint of pride in you... And neither does fear..." It sniffed hoarsely at his scent. "Human blood runs in your veins and yet... you are farthest from humans than any who wanders here."


    "I suppose you''ve never met a real hunter before." The young hunter replied. "Fear is but an obstacle that the mind shall master."


    The hag leaned closer toward the young hunter, staring hungrily against his fleshy body. "Your breed is hard to come by. Feeble little peasants are getting fewer by the hour. Gullible hunters are very much the same. But a fearless, splendid creature in my garden, I have yet to taste."


    Before the hag could lunge at him with her fangs bare, the young hunter unsheathed his sword concealed in his overcoat and pointed its sharp tip at the hag, forcing her to stop and hiss at such an unexpected move.


    "I''m not edible." The hunter said.


    The hag snorted at the blade and flinched terribly. "Silver. The wolf''s metal in your terrible blade. You are of the Butcher''s kin?"


    "You speak of my grandfather," the hunter simply said. "Are you acquainted with him?"


    "The Butcher was but a foe. A terrible one." The hag sang horribly. "We''ve fought in years past when It has killed my mate years before..."


    "Then I''m here to finish up what he started. I''m his grandson, his only student. Please do not resist and I''ll make sure your fate ends quickly."


    The hag snarled at him. She touched the nearest tree next to her and an arm sprouted from the bark. She held it and pulled it just as quickly, revealing a steel sword that she aimed at the hunter''s neck. "Foolish little human, you will regret ever setting foot in my forest."


    Like a predator, she circled the hunter with eyes staring hungrily at his body and her weapon raised. The hunter likewise steered around her, keeping his sword pointed at her eye. Both were patiently waiting for the other to strike, but finding the opportunity was like catching lightning in a bottle.


    The witch snapped her fingers suddenly and from behind the hunter, a tree snapped off its stump and fell to meet him. He quickly jumped out of the way, momentarily lowering his guard as the witch thrust her sword upon him.


    The hunter parried her blade away, followed by a hard slice to her neck. But the witch swerved away from the silver''s touch, as if her body was carried by the wind. The hunter approached her, and with a graceful pirouette the momentum amplified the strength of his swing. The witch blocked it, but the force was enough to lose her footing and staggered backward.


    It seemed that this witch was no master with the sword. In rapid succession, the hunter delivered a plethora of quick thrusts and jabs toward her chest, hoping to catch her off-guard and find a killer opening. But she weaved and tumbled herself out of the blade''s reach, with moves as delicate as a ballerina.


    Eventually the hunter made the mistake of taking a step closer with a hard lunge. Not only did the witch evade his advance, she managed to catch his sword hand and caught him in a chokehold, locking his arm behind his backside. Despite her scrawny stature, the witch was considerably strong.


    She stroked the hunter''s ash gray hair and leaned closer to his pale neck. "You would make a handsome little tree, good hunter." She opened her mouth and out came her yellowish fangs and a green thorny vine with black seeds sprouting out of it took the place of her tongue.


    From up close, the witch was emitting a fragrant, hypnotizing and quite an intoxicating pheromone. Maybe it was from getting most of it clogged into his senses that the hunter unwittingly opened his mouth as the witch began to join it with her own, her tongue eagerly twisting and drooling with saliva.


    So that''s how she transforms them into her garden pieces, the hunter mused in his mind. But before she gave him a grotesque kiss, he loosened his free hand and dropped his sword from the other. He caught the handle as it fell from his back and with no hesitation, stabbed the witch in the gut.


    The witch flinched as she dropped the hunter from her hold. Not giving her a chance of recovery, he unleashed a horizontal cut through her abdomen. The witch''s stomach tore open and out came intestines and her internal organs.


    The witch''s body was merely inches away from the ground when her ribcage immediately bent and turned into long sharp tendrils that shot out and nearly missed the hunter''s head in the process. He backed away as he witnessed eight tendrils sprout off her belly and planted themselves firmly into the ground.


    The lower half of her body fell to the ground, but her upper half was carried up with the tendrils. The witch, still alive, cackled madly as slits at both edges of her mouth open all the way to her ears, revealing a rather nasty set of protruded teeth. Then opened smaller slits around her eyes, revealing six smaller eyes. Her arms mutated, her flesh ripped apart as her bones stretched and her fingers turned into long and sharp claws.


    "You cannot kill me with mere weapons, good hunter!" The witch howled. "I am the heart of this forest! For as long as my garden thrives, I shall live forever!"


    The hunter knew there were no chances of defeating her at the moment. Another killing blow and she might regenerate and continue fighting until she ensures her victory. He managed to cut one of her legs before he started to run into the forest deep while the monstrous witch gave chase, her lanky legs of bone tried to impale him as they outran him.


    The hunter was nimble with his feet. He weaved around the trees to try and lose her sights on him. But a spider like her would not let go of prey that easily. She began to climb on the trees and as she crawled toward him through the tall branches, she slashed down a blackwood tree and sipped on the blood that gushed out of the stump. The hunter heard a shriek coming from the tree before it quickly died out as the tree fell to the ground dried and withered.


    At once, her leg regenerated and with a sigh of pleasure, she returned to the chase much faster than before. Blood, the hunter deduced. The witch has a series of blood bags disguised as trees. For as long as they stood, he had no chance of winning against her.


    But the hunter did not expend every trick on his sleeves just yet. After summoning another orb of fire on his palm, he aimed it at the trees around him, causing it to burst into a volley of flames. The hunter heard blood curdling screams everywhere. The flames managed to incinerate a great number of trees while keeping the witch at bay.


    With his foe incapacitated, the hunter ran amok in the blackwood forest. As he ran, he sprayed fire around the forest, burning every blackwood tree he came across. He managed to scorch a good half of the forest before the spider witch caught up to him. He was already exhausted, but he managed to deflect her legs as they pounced on him.


    But the hunter was caught off guard by the witch''s tongue, which grew elongated and pierced his glasses. The hunter lurched away, spraying a pillar of fire behind so the witch wouldn''t give chase. Luckily, his blue-tinted lenses were so thick that the attacker managed to merely crack it.


    Left with no other choice, the hunter took the glasses off and put them in his coat pocket. He turned to face the witch once more, but she began to shiver, mortified by what she saw.


    The glasses were meant to conceal the mark of a curse laid upon him when he was born. He had deep crimson eyes that glowed in the shadow of the sun. He began to smile horribly as though he was possessed by a wicked demon completely.


    "You bear the Hollow''s mark, you impostor!" The witch gasped.


    The hunter said nothing. In his silence, he grasped his blade with a deep concentration, his hand caught fire and lit the sword aflame. The witch was hesitant to attack, not only because her garden of sacrifices was burning down to a crisp, but also the maddening aura surrounding the hunter.


    "Come on!" The hunter roared, his voice was louder and monstrous than before. "Don''t get cold feet now, witch! Isn''t this what you wanted?!"


    At once, the witch dubiously made a desperate lunge toward the hunter, who ran to approach her as well. But as soon as her claws raced to impale him, he ran toward a tree and leapt from underneath her, slashing off her arms in midair.


    As he landed, the hunter drove his sword through her body and bisected her torso. The witch wailed as she tried to escape, but the hunter immediately tore off her legs at such inhuman speed, crippling her.


    The witch lay dying on the blood-soaked ground, as the hunter simply walked toward her. He wiped the blood of his sword with his sleeves before placing it back on his scabbard.


    The very moment his eyes met hers, the witch quickly turned her gaze away. She whimpered as she tried to crawl away from him in anguish. Bloody tears spilled from her eyes.


    "Look at me." The hunter knelt in front of her. "Feels ironic, isn''t it? I can imagine that some of your victims died just like this. Alone, cornered, wounded. While you stood over them with a smile. Judging from the size of this forest, you''ve killed too many to keep yourself alive. So fat and satisfied from their misery. It''s only fair that I do the same to you."


    The witch was silent for a moment. "You''re a monster, too... You''ve got their eyes, don''t you? Why pretend to be something you''re not... when you know that ''they'' won''t accept you regardless? You could''ve been... one of us..."


    The hunter pondered on her words, before he pulled out his revolver and cocked the firing pin. "You know, I''m not quite sure myself. I''m neither a human nor a demon, yet at the same time I''m both. It''s my decision to choose which side to favor."


    He aimed the revolver at her head and calmly pulled the trigger. The forest burned away, as the light of the sunrise peered through the crumbling black leaves.


    ??


    "Here," the hunter dumped a bloody pouch onto a large, startling both the Magistrate and his council and disrupting a seemingly important meeting. "The head of the witch, just as you asked."


    The council had various reactions to such an indecent act. Most were shocked at the barbaric display, some screamed in terror over a traumatic moment, yet only one among them remained still with a faint smile on her face.


    The Magistrate, the man who sent him off to hunt the witch in the first place, was dumbfounded when he saw what was inside the pouch and winced away in disgust. "Sharon, call the bank. Give him the reward money as quickly as possible."


    "My lord, I-"


    "You have my orders, go!" The Magistrate ordered more sternly, and the woman left the room in haste. He turned his attention toward the hunter. "To be honest, I did not expect you to both survive and kill this witch. So many hunters before you have all tried and failed to-"


    "Spare yourself, m''lord." The hunter interrupted. "It was merely my duty. And I followed it to the letter."


    "Absurd! How do we know that this is the head of the witch." A general stood up from his seat in protest. "Do you have any proof of your claim?"


    "You could go ahead and check the black forest," the hunter retorted. "Or at least, whatever remained of it. The forest was the source of her power, so some extreme measures had to be taken."


    The Magistrate furrowed his eyebrows, still frozen in utter disbelief. "I cannot thank you enough for this brave and courageous deed. We would offer to give you a proper soldier''s welcome in the square if-"


    "No, that won''t be necessary." The hunter interrupted again. He remembered how the Magistrate shrugged him off when he left to hunt the witch, without a care if he survived or not. "The reward money is enough. I will leave just as quickly as I came."


    He was just right in front of the door when the Magistrate stood up. "At least give us your name, good sir!" He exclaimed. "Something little to remember you by."


    The hunter merely sighed. He did not want to attract any attention to himself. To them, he was just a lowly hunter. If word came out of what clan he was born from, which magician conceived him, and what old hunter raised and trained him all his life, the Magistrate and his merry men will never not let it go. Eventually he turned around to meet the Magistrate, who was anxiously waiting for an answer.


    "Theodore," he simply spoke. "Just call me Theodore."

 Chapter 2

    After that whole affair with the witch and the reward money was done and dealt with, Theodore made a stop at the local tavern at the Common District down south. This was the first time Theodore has ever been in a city before, as some of his bounties took place in the wilderness.


    A major city in every province was once the capital of a certain kingdom in ages past. But after the Parliament of Magicians established itself as the sole governing power over the continent of Fericire, these kingdoms were then stripped of their political dominance and relegated to provinces.


    They were usually divided into two districts; the Noble District where the local nobility and the clergy reside in complete luxury, and the Common District, which was where everyone else lived: the workers, the merchants, the beggars, and the thieves.


    The pub on the first floor was as lively as most bars would get. The drunks would often babble stories with his mates, others sang shanties hoarsely and danced sluggishly, while the majority went about and fought each other with fists and priceless furniture.


    "A plate of roasted chicken, please. With a mug of milk on the side," he told the barkeeper, with a several pieces from his reward money as payment.


    "You got it, sir." The barkeeper took the money and walked toward the back.


    Theodore did not have to wait long for the barkeeper was quite a fast cook. He gave him his order in less than an hour. The crispy golden skin of the smoking-hot roasted chicken was slathered in a mixture of garlic, herbs and lemon butter. A small bowl of golden pan oil stood by the edge of the tray alongside the mug of warm milk, just as he requested.


    Theodore poured the oil onto the chicken. And with the fork and spoon in his hands, he cut up the chicken into tiny bits. He savored every bite. The taste of the skin, the tenderness of the sauce melting into the meat. He had begun to wonder: was this what monsters imagined humans taste like? If so, then he might have understood their unusual cravings to a small degree.


    He finished up the meal in the same time it took to cook up that chicken. He took the mug of fresh milk and swallowed it empty in a handful of gulps. It was thoroughly sweet, and a milky mustache painted his upper lip. And then another question came to mind: was blood this satisfying to vampires when they drank it out of some poor peasant''s neck?


    After gobbling up the meal in the same amount of time it took to prepare it, Theodore stepped outside for a little stroll through the city of Steslia. Much like the other regions in Fericire, many of the buildings were usually tall, second story windows, often arched at the top, that¡¯d break through the decorative cornice, and rise above the eaves at the edge of the roof.


    Modeled after country manors and the local lords'' offices in the provinces, the brick or stucco homes are stately and formal. They have steep hipped roofs and a square, symmetrical shape with windows balanced on each side of the entrance. Theodore may not have been a deep admirer of the architecture, but he was merely abiding by his grandfather''s words.


    "Learn to appreciate the small things in life, Ted." His grandfather told him once a few years prior. "A hunter''s life is always a dangerous one. You never know if you might die one day from a foe getting the better of you. So, every food you eat, every place you go, and every person you meet, keep those experiences to heart and never let go of the memory."


    Theodore accidentally bumped into a little boy whilst deep in thought. He looked down and saw the boy was merely barefooted and dirt covered his plump face and blue tunic. He gave Theodore a look of utter embarrassment and after giving him a flustered bow, continued his sprint towards his friends, who were playing hoopball in the square.


    Theodore never made the effort of having friends, for showing the Mark would scare away children. Nor would he have the time to have any. Being raised to be a hunter all his life, the concept of companionship never once crossed his mind. Nevertheless, Theodore watched the children play from afar with bated curiosity.


    He continued his stroll toward the narrow alleyways between the buildings. It was important to familiarize himself with every city he visits, from where the important shops were and what routes and shortcuts to take.


    Theodore took a turn toward an empty alleyway on the far edge of the city. As soon as he reached the middle point, he sensed the smell of iron and sweat hiding from every crevice of the alleyway. He realized too late that he walked himself into a trap, as a group of thugs trapped him from both directions. They were wearing thick and dirty cloaks, smiling menacingly as they brandished their revolvers.


    "Pardon me," Theodore told them. "I merely took a wrong turn, now let me pass."


    The tallest of their group clicked his tongue at him. "Enough of your yapping. Now hand over the money or it won''t end well for you."


    Theodore despised these kinds of people. Honorless scoundrels who spend their pitiful lives robbing others under the threat of death. Though he was taught only to kill monsters, the insatiable desire to kill these plundering bastards nearly overtook Theodore. He placed a hand on his sword, ready for a bloodbath.


    "There you are, you cheeky little mouse." A woman''s soft voice crept up to him from behind. "I''ve been looking everywhere for you."


    And quickly Theodore found his arm held by a small hand hidden under black gloves and puffy spring yellow sleeves. He turned his head around and saw a woman no taller than his shoulders.


    Her entire body was concealed under a forest green cloak with a bright gold ribbon. On her head, she wore a matching top hat with a black veil that obscured her face. On her other hand, she held a wooden cane.


    She bore a delectable aroma of white roses and grape wine. Weird, Theodore noted. He didn''t sense her scent at all before this moment. It flared his nose the moment she held his arm.


    "Stand aside, blondie." The leader of the ruffians told her. "We have business with the hunter. If you value your life, then leave."


    The lady tilted her head in confusion, slowly joining hands with him. "Pardon me! My lovely chauffeur just came into this city for the first time as a tourist. Surely you can have the decency to spare his dignity and leave him be?"


    "Enough of this twaddle!" The muscled thug behind her shouted. "Give us your money willingly or we''ll have to pry it off your tiny little hands."


    Strangely, the lady barely made any reaction to his threat like any other woman would loudly do. Instead, she calmly removed her glove and turned to face the thug. "Fine. Come and get it," she replied, her tone was as cold as ice.


    Enraged, the thug raised his fist at her. At first, Theodore couldn''t see her; she moved so quickly, almost like she became a cold breeze on the wind, that he found her already in front of the thug. He was frozen mid-action, while the lady had already grasped his face with her ungloved hand.


    When she let go, the thug began to shiver. His eyes have now gone wide and glassy, frantically moving in all directions. What started as a faint little whimper eventually escalated into a fully panicked scream as the thug began to claw his face. His fellow thieves were both confused and terrified, backing away from their friend.


    "GET THEM OFF ME! GET THEM OFF ME!" The thug wailed as he fell onto the ground, writhing in agony. "MAKE THEM STOP!"


    Theodore heard as the lady sighed from under her veil, he couldn''t tell whether it was a faint gist of laughter or exasperation that he heard. She wordlessly tapped the ground with her cane and the thug spontaneously stopped screaming and flailing around.


    The thug sat up seemingly normal, but his eyes were staring blankly into nowhere, his mouth was dry and twitching uncontrollably. He took one look at the lady, and crawled away from her in panic.


    The lady turned to the other thieves. "Please tend to your friend. He''s not well in his head." She simply said to them, feigning concern.


    At once, the other thieves quickly carried their friend and hurried away in a panic. Theodore stood there, quietly impressed, as he found himself alone in the alleyway next to a somewhat unhinged lady with the prowess of a powerful magician.


    "Good riddance, honestly." She said as she put on the glove. "I hated those kinds of people as well. Glad to know that I''m not the only one who thinks the same way, Theodore Barclay."


    How did she know my last name? Theodore thought. He made sure not to say it in front of the council. She''s around his age, surely a novice at that point, but it would seem that she''s a prodigy. For only a master could be able to read minds so easily.


    The magician brushed away her veil, the moonlight shone through her platinum blonde hair tied in an updo bun. Her doe eyes, a pair of deep shimmering emeralds, gazed upon him so ravenously in a way that made him icky and wary of her.


    Theodore knew he recognized her; she was among those present in the meeting with the Magistrate when he made the unexpected decision to throw a decapitated head in the middle of a council meeting.


    She then simply gave Theodore a somewhat mischievous grin, the same expression she made when the witch¡¯s head rolled onto the table and traumatized half of the attending noblemen. But whether or not she wanted to seduce him or use him for some devious machinations was uncertain, a trait which was common for a lot of magicians.


    "A fine evening to you too, milady." Theodore bowed his head so slightly. It would be a death sentence to deny a lady some manners, his grandfather told him once. "To whom do I owe this pleasure?"


    "My name is Yvette Margoyles, apprentice magician and representative of Cardinal Silva Tremblay of the city of Vollimere." she introduced herself with a gentle bow.


    "Bless you." Theodore simply said. What a mouthful of words she uttered under one breath, he thought. A lot of provinces have lost their rights to be kings, but they gave their rulers some unique titles to compensate instead; Magistrates for the Killarney province, and Cardinals rule the Vollimere province


    Yvette turned her head in both directions before she spoke again. "I have important matters to discuss with you. But it would seem that this is not exactly the proper place for a chat. I could take you someplace tidier... If you''re willing?"


    "That depends on the location." Theodore replied. No way he would be spending such leisurely time in a chaotic hellhole like that tavern with a lady. "I know not of a tidier place than this, but do lead the way, milady." He raised his hand, and she grasped it firmly.


    ??


    They venture toward the coffee house in the Noble District, which was on the other side of the city. It never once crossed Theodore''s mind to take up lodgings in this district; they were too expensive, too flashy, and often the nobles made a fuss over everything; a poison in the ears as his grandfather would say.


    There were large cages spread around the district market. Inside those cages were demi-beast slaves wearing dirty rags and chains around their limbs. They were hybrids who resembled humans but bore characteristics akin to animals. Most of them possess weird ears that reflect certain animal species, a few have horns protruding out of their heads, and have tails on their backs.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Yvette seemed like she would fit perfectly as a noblewoman. But something was peculiar about her. She seemed disgusted at the sight of demi-beast slaves and rarely spoke with the other nobles as they passed by, she rolled her eyes at them with disdain.


    Many of the nobles grew agitated and scared when they took notice of her. But not as greatly as they feared Theodore beside her. It was definitely not her perfume, Theodore thought.


    "I heard that," Yvette said, as they found an empty booth upstairs; it was a table for two with a wide open window by their side overlooking the city. Two identical copies of the menu sat on top of the table. Yvette removed her hat and placed it on her armrest alongside his cane, while Theodore set down his sword on his own.


    A waiter, probably in his teens, approached them with a tray in hand. "Good evening, monsieur and mademoiselle. What would you like to order?"


    "I''ll have a slice of lemon cake. And a cup of chamomile tea." Yvette said with a smile that seemed fake. "Your turn, now. My treat." She turned to Theodore, who was deep in thought over the menu.


    "I''ll..." Theodore hesitated. He hated how many options there were on the menu. The options on the tavern were at least straightforward. "I''ll have the lamb, skewered. And a glass of cold water." He simply said.


    The waiter nodded and moved on to make the orders. "We can dispense with the pleasantries." Theodore spoke as soon as they were alone in the booth. "Who do you work for, and what do you want from me?"


    "I told you already." She smirked playfully. "I am under direct orders from the Cardinal to find you."


    "I''m not talking about that," Theodore retorted. "You already knew my last name on our first encounter, when I''ve not shared it in the Magistrate''s council or anyone in particular. You seem young, around my age at best, yet you somehow manage to perfectly read my mind, an ability that only the most powerful of magicians could master.


    "I would have naturally assumed that you''re a prodigy of the arts, but I also considered that you had proper training by an accomplished magician."


    Yvette was indeed dumbfounded by his observation, but kept her smile on both ends of her cheeks. "Very perceptive. Everything I want in a man. Yes, you''re right in all fronts. It was this ability that led me right to you."


    "Not quite." Theodore continued. "There''s something else. You were already expecting me in that council as if you knew I would be there. After that, you have been following me in my stroll around the city. You used something to disguise your scent so I wouldn''t track you.


    "Surprisingly, I''ve never told anyone about my very sensitive nose, or my existence in general. All my life, I''ve only known two people who have access to that information. One is my grandfather, and he''s more of a freelancer who wouldn''t affiliate himself with magicians or the government in any way.


    "But the other one does, and is also an excellent magician. She must''ve trained you brilliantly and for this mission, she deliberately recommended me to you with all the necessary information needed to find me. Your master..."


    "Your aunt," Yvette chuckled. "You''re smart. That''s what Lady Fiona always says about you."


    Fiona Beaufoy was his mother''s older sister. She had trained him in the magical arts since he was ten, but after her betrayal six years ago, Theodore never saw her again nor did he have any will in him to find her. "Odd. I never thought her to be the kind to think of me at all."


    Just then, they were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter, who was carrying a tray of their orders with only one hand. Theodore and Yvette silently stared at each other, determined to read each other like books.


    Theodore didn''t think of it much before, but Yvette''s eyes seem to glow brightly in the dark. Her face seemed paler under the light of the candelabra at the center of the table. And the way she stared deeply into his eyes, perhaps she saw something in him that made her slightly nervous. But she brushed it away after a moment, and retained her confident little smile.


    It didn''t take long for the waiter to leave them alone. Yvette immediately took a sip of the chamomile tea whilst Theodore took a bite from the lamb.


    Theodore rubbed his chin and sighed. "Well, it''s not so often that I get a client from such a high standing. It must be a huge deal, whatever he''s asking me to do."


    "First things first. What do you know about the Countess Georgescu?" Yvette asked.


    Theodore''s eyes widened, her question nearly made him choke from the water. He knew all too well who the Countess was. He has heard stories from different regions of the continent based on the Countess''s infamy amongst the common folk.


    "You''ve heard of her, it would seem." Yvette noted. "I''m curious, Theodore. Why was she known by so many and feared by just as much?"


    Theodore nodded along. "The tales vary from region to region, but this is the very name they gave the Countess. In the golden age of magic, she was among the most powerful of the sort. But she isn''t exactly subtle in hiding the atrocious acts she used her gifts for.


    "She seduced all kinds of people with illusions of their wildest dreams, binding their souls to her will in exchange for making their dreams a reality. She uses them as puppets to instigate wars, making alliances turn on each other and crumble. The slaughter that ensued, between armies and innocents, was able to sustain her for hundreds of years.


    "Many came forth to challenge her. Hunters and magicians alike. But none could stand a chance against her. Most of them died by her hand, some others surrendered themselves over as her slaves for all eternity. Truly she was among the worst of the vampires."


    Yvette nodded along, charmed by his retelling. "Quite a long memory these poor folk have. Indeed they are great storytellers. But as a Hunter, what do you think is the truth behind this Countess?"


    "For one thing, she is a powerful magician just as the tale suggests. But she''s careful in how she uses it. She might even be a succubus, a demon that feasts on the pleasure of humans. It''s very plausible that the very magic she uses to control a person''s will is an art she inverted herself."


    "It''s somewhat akin to puppeteering, I see." Yvette continued. "The Parliament has considered such a dark art a taboo nowadays. And tapping into such art is easier said than done. If someone like her can do it so effortlessly, no wonder she was as feared as she was."


    "But I don''t exactly see why this could be a problem." Theodore noted. "The Countess is long dead. The years have weakened her greatly, enough to be killed by a magician twenty years ago."


    Yvette blinked and laughed at him. Theodore had to raise an eyebrow. "What''s so funny?"


    "The Countess isn''t dead. Never has been." She told him. "She''s just been sealed away by that same magician, for she was too powerful to kill. It''s simply a lie they told everyone to make them believe the threat is over."


    "Oh, really?" Theodore wasn''t very subtle in hiding his surprise. "How delightful. So I assume she''s at it again with her bloody rampage?"


    "Not quite." Yvette took a spoonful of the cake before she explained. "For the past three weeks, there have been brutal raids around Vollimere''s borders. They''ve been targeting surrounding villages, their livestock, and traveling merchants along the road. Based on the evidence recovered in these ruins, they were caused by the Shadow''s Claw."


    "Shadow''s Claw? What''s that?"


    "A band of demi-beast rebels that''s been causing a lot of chaos around Vollimere''s borders. The Cardinal''s men have been at war with them lately. On every village they destroy, they only leave one person alive."


    "For what purpose?"


    "To send a message to the Cardinal. Sure they killed almost everyone in those villages, but they left a precious few alive to tell him in person."


    "And what did they tell him?" Theodore asked as he sipped on his water. It was cold, just what he needed.


    Yvette made a hard gulp of her tea before she continued. "They said, ''The Countess Georgescu shall awaken with the first snow and on the brink of winter, she shall bring forth the great city''s fall''."


    Theodore reflected on those words. Long has he searched for a bigger fish, but now it was as if he''d be taking on a whale-sized shark and an army of god-knows-how-many piranhas who''d eat him up in one bite.


    "But as a Hunter, do you think she could be killed?" Yvette asked, pleasantly curious.


    "She''s a vampire. Of course they do." Theodore answered. "But she''s an ancient vampire, someone who''s stronger and survived far longer than any other vampire. Those sorts are far beyond my limits. Furthermore, it would seem she''s got an army of half-breeds on her side. By that point, no hunter would survive long enough to even graze her. Not even me."


    He sat up, wiping his face with a napkin. "I''m sorry, but I must respectfully decline. If you want a more experienced hunter to do the job better, go and ask my grandfather. Though he would be a lot harder to track down and convince than I am. Good day, milady."


    Theodore took his sword and was about to leave the booth when Yvette arose from her seat and spoke up in haste. "I know what it is you''re searching for. It''s the very reason you held on to this dirty profession for as long as you live, is it not?"


    Theodore stopped dead in his tracks. "Lady Fiona told me a lot of things about you, but she neglected to tell me your deepest secret. Said it was something I must figure out on my own. And only now did I finally realized it."


    Theodore turned around to face her. "You read my mind again, didn''t you?"


    "Nope. I could already tell just by looking at you." Yvette sauntered a tad too close to Theodore. "You didn''t choose this job because you wanted to kill monsters. You chose it so you want to know for yourself if you''re becoming one."


    She touched the frame of Theodore''s glasses before pausing. "May I?" She asked.


    "Go ahead," Theodore replied, unremorseful. "But you might not like what you''ll find."


    And so, Yvette pulled his glasses away and saw for herself his bright crimson eyes. Yet somehow, she smiled as she gazed upon them; the first time he saw a human make such a peculiar reaction after seeing his Mark for the first time.


    "Lady Fiona told me what the mark does to a human. They become one with the demon that cursed them, making them unable to feel or understand emotions. For a demon has no need for them. Their eyes, the mark itself, is said to reflect the crimson hellfires in the Underworld.


    "You were desperate. You wanted to see if you could feel remorse, fear, or anything worth feeling when you face those monsters yourself. To prove that you''re still human. But you couldn''t, because that''s your nature. What you simply have is an instinctive lust for bloodshed, the very thing you would''ve done to those thugs had I not intervened. Try all you want, but you cannot escape what you are: a monster in the flesh of a human."


    Theodore grabbed her wrist just as she fondled his pale cheek, and began to crush it under his fist. And Yvette saw in his eyes, nothing but a wide empty stare into her soul.


    "Y''know, I''m beginning to understand why Gramps hated magicians so much. So nosey. What makes you think this little assessment of yours is going to convince me to join your precious little hunt?"


    Yvette strained from the pain, but kept her composure. "There''s a spell. A spell that can reverse the effects of the Mark. And Fiona knows where it is. And she''ll give it to you, only if you cooperate and succeed in this hunt."


    Theodore slowly twisted her wrist. "Why would I believe you? And in what mad world would I trust your word or Fiona''s?"


    Just then, Yvette''s pupils disappeared, leaving only the whites occupying her eyes. A cold chill suddenly overtook Theodore. He blinked and suddenly the world around him became surrounded by literal ghosts.


    Countless ethereal forms of misshapen faces, contorted limbs, and eyes dripping with blood appeared out from the walls. They crawled all over his body, crawling through his clothes and into his skin. They wailed incessantly at his ears, the sound of an off-tune choir of demons.


    Ah, he thought. So this is what she made the thug saw. It may be meant to terrify a common villager, but Theodore felt nothing but a little ticklish as the ghosts clawed their way around him. He turned back to Yvette and found her staring at him with such a quietly deadly gaze.


    "You might be wondering what kind of magician I am." Yvette said. "Well, I can see beyond the mortal realm. Lost souls and spirits occupy every nook and cranny of the world and not only can I perceive them, they obey my every command. In a way, they''re my lovingly loyal pets."


    "A neat little gimmick. Why bother telling me all this?"


    "Because I was sent by Lady Fiona to find you, for she deems you the only man worthy enough to partake in this hunt. And I''m not going to leave empty-handed just because you''ve got cold feet," Yvette replied.


    "And now that you''ve really pissed me off, what''s stopping me from just breaking your arm right here?"


    "Simple. Souls cling to those closest to death and unfortunately, these souls are now bound to you by an eternity of hatred and unfinished business." She explained to him, barely losing her smile as she leaned closer toward him. "You break my arm, I shall grant these souls permission to kill you, polluting your body with hundreds of diseases and curses until you eventually expire. And maybe when I absorb your soul as well, you can become my pet as well for as long as I breathe."


    "I''ve already been cursed, milady," Theodore simply remarked. "I doubt what they''ll give me will hurt any less. Just get to the point."


    "My point is, you want to become a real human just like everyone else. I understand that more than you think. That''s why Lady Fiona and by extension me, are urging you to join us, no matter how impossible the task is. So you can fulfill that goal much sooner." Yvette was already so close to Theodore''s face.


    "Or you can say no right now, and return to a pointless and meaningless life of trying to chase after a dream you could never hope to reach. Until one day you''ve finally succumbed to that horrible curse that you''ll end up regressing into the very monster you tried so hard to forsake. Is that the kind of life you intend to pursue for all your days, Theodore Barclay, or do you wish to break free from that curse and carve out your own destiny?"


    I hate that the magician''s right, Theodore thought as his mind was divided by a multitude of doubts. He let go of Yvette''s wrist, now bruised red as she scrambled to the nearest chair. But she retained her composed smile as she waited for an answer.


    Well now, there''s no turning back after this, he told himself. His desire to be human was just by an arm''s reach, the only thing he needed to do was kill the bloody Countess. A terrible offer, to be sure. But the reward sounded too good to be true.


    "I need proof of this reward if you want me to accept this task," he told her.


    "It''s in Lady Fiona''s hands, back in the city of Vollimere." Yvette answered. "I''ll take you to her, if you''re interested."


    Before Theodore left the booth, he turned to face Yvette and with his decision shall change the course of his own destiny.


    "All right, then. I''ll join you to Vollimere. How soon can we depart?"

 Chapter 3

    It was four in the morning. Theodore had already taken a bath and cleaned his room, his equipment, and himself. On his bed, he laid down his briefcase and slowly turned the catches.


    The case sprang open and very quickly did Theodore load his only set of spare clothes, a folding hunting rifle, a photograph of his grandfather, a few flash bombs, and a box of revolver bullets. He left the key on the doorknob as he checked out.


    "Well, aren''t you quite an early worm?" said Yvette, whom he saw standing in front of the inn in the earliest hour of the morning. Theodore had last seen her last night at the coffee house, but there he found her as if she stayed there all evening.


    "I suppose you beat me to it, squirt." Theodore replied.


    Yvette smiled, then turned her attention to the small suitcase on his hand. "Is that all that you have?"


    "I had very little to pack since I got here." Theodore replied. "Hunters carry little if they want to cover a lot of ground much faster."


    "Hmm. Fair enough." She nodded in understanding. "We should buy a few horses from the stables. Vollimere simply takes a day or two to reach if we ride on horseback."


    "No." Theodore sternly commented. "Horses have a mind of their own and they''re easily startled by monsters in the wild. And they''re not always cooperative on travels, believe me."


    Yvette kept her sly smile whilst she raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like you came from experience. A really bad one."


    "We should hitch a ride with a merchant heading to Vollimere," Theodore brushed off her previous statement. "It would be way faster, and it feels less lonesome when traveling."


    "I didn''t expect you to be such a sociable person," Yvette said.


    "Oh, you thought I was talking about myself? No, that''s for you." Theodore jested.


    It did not take long for them to reach the city road where they found a carriage waiting in line for the gates to open, carried by two horses. The old merchant seemed like a nomad from a different land, wearing vibrant clothes lined with thick furs and exotic jewelry. On his carriage were bronze pots of what sounds like wine and chests with shining trinkets spilling out.


    "Excuse me," Yvette approached one of the carriages. "Pardon us, but could me and my chaperone be given a ride in your lovely little caravan?"


    The conductor, an old bearded man with squinted eyes, faced her direction. "Where do you desire to go, little owls?"


    "Vollimere," Theodore stepped in. "In exchange for safe passage, allow me to protect your caravan from monsters in the wild."


    The man rubbed his wrinkled chin. "Our destination goes beyond Vollimere, but we are making our stop there regardless. Furthermore, you will have to pay a toll for the weight you carry. Sixteen gold pieces for each of you."


    Theodore had already spent much of his reward money, having to pay his share of that dinner with Yvette. Now he''s down to only four coins. "My reward money won''t be enough for the both of us."


    "No need. I''ll pay for both of us. My treat, of course." Yvette raised her hand.


    This lady''s got a wallet the size of an elephant, Theodore mused. Then again, she said that her expenses were covered by the Cardinal''s treasury. "Are you sure you''re not emptying your kingdom''s pockets by accident with all this spending?" He raised an eyebrow at her.


    "Not at all. It''s not like they''ll be wanting it back when I return anyway." Yvette winked at him, but Theodore was not impressed. As someone who saved his money for important things, it irked him how Yvette can spend hers so haphazardly.


    The old man smiled, a gold tooth gleamed. "A deal''s a deal. Hop on in."


    And soon they were out of the city walls, sitting on the back of the carriage as it moved through the main road. The surrounding forest was beset by a dreadful chill.


    "Winter''s close," Theodore observed. "We should make haste for Vollimere before it kicks in."


    "Why so? The weather seems nice and it might even be weeks before the first snow comes along." Yvette said optimistically.


    Theodore looked at her strangely. "Oh, I''m not talking about the weather. In a few days, the sun won''t be as warm as it should be. It''ll be too cloudy to make the days feel any safer. When that happens, well, you do the math."


    Yvette gulped and kept her guard up. She knew Theodore was right; the witch that was haunting the Killarney forests may be dead, but there were worse monsters still out there.


    A few hours have passed since their departure from the city. The clouds have become too much and blocked out any blue sky or sunlight. And so far, not a single monster had jumped out and attacked them.


    The path to Vollimere was graced with the foggy sights of thick gray rivers and steep mountains standing tall yet barely visible through the fog. The forests around the road were thriving with the sounds of birds chirping and the leaves whistled against the wind. A cold air stirred Theodore under his skin, but the haunting view did nothing to impress or deter him.


    Yvette, on the other hand, had her head swinging in all directions. She had a small notebook in her hand, and was writing down everything she saw with a little quill she pulled from the spine.


    Theodore made every assurance to avoid any small talk with her. He kept himself a few inches away from her. His eyes were always scanning the horizon from any disturbance.


    He carefully sniffed the air for any weird scents he might pick up. A hand on his sword at all times. A hunter must remain vigilant, even at a time of calm. For a monster often strikes when he least expects it.


    "Well, aren''t you a quiet one" Yvette called up to him, crawling up to his side of the carriage. "Why so glum all of the sudden? We haven''t spoken a word to each other for a while."


    "I''ve got no time to talk." Theodore replied. "It''s a distraction."


    "From what, exactly?" Yvette asked. "If you''re talking about monsters, you won''t find any here."


    "What makes you say that?"


    Yvette pointed to her own eyes. "I can see beyond the mortal realm, remember? The spirits lingering around the wilderness are a sign that the path ahead is safe."


    "Hmm..." Theodore noted. She had proved to him about the existence of this other world, and he had no objections against it. "I hate talking without reason, and you can''t seem to get by without someone to annoy."


    "That''s rude." Yvette remarked, offended.


    "So how about this? Quid pro quo, you answer my question and I answer yours. Deal?"


    "It''s a deal."


    "I go first. Are all magicians like you, being able to see everything, even down to ghastly apparitions?"


    "There''s no other magician like me," Yvette answered, her eyes strayed and dimmed. "It''s simply a gift I inherited from my mother." Her lips twisted and turned before she faced him. "My turn. I heard from Lady Fiona that you''ve inherited some powerful magic from your father, but I''ve never seen you use it. Why so?"


    Fiona must be a loose-tongued snake if she spilled every secret about him to her apprentice, Theodore thought. Despite the clan surviving through six hundred years, magic was just introduced to the Barclays through his grandmother, the late Miriam of the Fahrenheit clan.


    She would pass her magical heritage onto the Barclays after their marriage. This was most apparent in Theodore''s father Henry, who was the most powerful magician of the era. Or at least he used to be, as he disappeared long before his son was even born.


    "Hunters don''t use magic. They train themselves to the peak of their physical prowess to combat monsters and vampires. I''ve got my sword and my revolver after all. I simply make use of it only in dire situations." Theodore said, as he raised his palm and conjured up a little ball of flame, floating around his fingertips.


    Yvette''s eyes widened from this knowledge. "You have promise and potential. Lady Fiona would be more than willing to take you as..."


    "A student? Fat chance," Theodore scoffed. "Had she stayed and taught me more, I would''ve been a master at it by now. She told me that, due to my curse, my magic has grown unstable and it''ll be a problem should I use it more than I need to."


    The carriage trudged along the road amidst a moment of silence. "My turn. It''s something that makes me curious. What happened between you and Lady Fiona anyway, Theodore?"


    Theodore immediately perked up, and stared at her with those cold eyes, the same thing she saw when he nearly crushed her wrist the other night. Yvette stroked the back of her neck and twisted her lips. She knew she took it one step too far. The subject around his distant aunt was one that Theodore did not want to talk about.


    "You don''t need to trouble yourself with that." Theodore''s gaze eventually softened, but that empty look in his eyes still lingered. "We''re simply distant relatives, walking on paths that could never converge. We will say no more about it. My turn now," He reminded her. "What did you do to make Fiona your master? Last time I heard, she never takes any."


    "I''m her first," Yvette told him. "I caught her eye when she came to the College eight years ago. I believe it was around that time that she first came to Vollimere to be the Cardinal''s court magician."


    "It''s quite unlike her to take a measly job like that." Theodore said. "She took pride in her high position in the Parliament that she would never accept any thankless job."


    "Well, there''s a rumor going around among the help and the council that suggest she was exiled from the Parliament, and her transfer here is punishment. Why she was exiled is a mystery, even to me."


    Theodore turned away from her after a moment. "I''d rather not know. Alright, no more questions. I''m going to take a nap. You''re on guard duty."


    "What? But..." And before Yvette knew it, Theodore was fast asleep.


    ??


    Theodore has always found dreams to be the most unpleasant, incoherent nonsense to ever close his eyes to. This one in particular was by far the worst.


    He found himself in a castle occupied by no one but a woman dressed in a white nightgown. She sat in a high chair overgrown with thorns and white roses, looming over a canyon from within the view of her window.


    Her black hair was so long, it was already spilling on the marble floor. There were horns protruding from her forehead, misshapen ones the size of a tree branch.  She was so still and pale, Theodore almost mistook her as a realistic marble statue.


    Suddenly, the door at the very end of the room opened noisily. The lady did not bother moving, even as the messenger approached and knelt before her. He was wearing a black cloak over his pale body.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Report," her voice was as cold as ice.


    "Beaufoy''s apprentice is making her way back to the city, madam," the spy hissed. "It would appear that she found the hunter."


    "How close are they to the city now?" The lady asked.


    "They''ve joined a group of merchants en route to Vollimere," the spy answered. "Come nightfall, they might reach their destination as we speak."


    The lady plucked a white rose from her armrest, and in her hands the rose turned red. Blood dripped from her hand, cut up by the sharp thorns before it healed instantly. "Tell Lycaon to assemble his Claws and dispose of them before they reach the city. Take what they have and leave nothing behind.¡±


    BANG! Theodore¡¯s dream was then interrupted by an intense sound that shook the carriage and brought it to a halt. He sprang awake at night, clutching his sword and was joined by Yvette waking up from her corner as well.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Yvette asked in a daze.


    The old merchant sighed in exasperation at the front. ¡°We''re nearly in the city, you two. Just at the bridge up ahead. But the wheel on the back might¡¯ve gotten stuck on something. Can one of you go and check it out?¡±


    Theodore stepped out of the carriage and took a close inspection. Apparently, the old man¡¯s hunch was right; the left wheel got buried deep into the mud. He couldn¡¯t quite get that dream out of his mind, but the message was clear; the Countess was already expecting them.


    Just then, a loud howling was heard from a distance. A wolf''s. Soon enough it was followed by another from the other side of the forest and another howled when the first one ended. On and on until there were dozens of them howling deep within the forest''s shadow.


    The merchant shook in terror, the color drained from his frail face. "Dear me... It''s them..."


    Theodore knew what he meant, but there was no time to spare. He quickly pushed on the carriage with all his strength as Yvette kept guard. "As soon as I pull this out, make haste for the city and don''t stop!" He told her.


    "But we''re not going to leave you here!" Yvette protested.


    "Like hell you''re going to stay here and die with me!" Theodore replied. "Just get the old man to the city. I''ll cover you."


    Yvette nodded, aggravated. "You better not die! Not when we''re this close!"


    Theodore could only muster rolling his eyes with her sentiment. He focused on lifting the wheel from the mud whilst the sounds of howling deafened the air. Followed by masses of crunching footsteps nearby. He better be quick or they''ll all be done for.


    But the wheel was deep into the mud and wouldn''t budge despite all of his strength. "Screw this!" Theodore huffed and punched the ground with a gusto of wind magic.


    In the split second, the wheel was shaken out of the mud long enough for Theodore to push it away. At once, the wagon was able to move along the path. He tried to chase after it when an assassin pulled him away with furry hands. He then lunged with claw-like gauntlets, which Theodore dodged.


    Even for him, the assassin was quite agile. He barely gave Theodore any chance to recover his footing as he evaded his blades. Eventually, Theodore was able to drag his enemy''s weapons against a tree and pinned him against the ground. He then dragged his sword against the assassin''s throat.


    Then he sensed the rest of the pack swarming him from all directions. It was the dead of night. Theodore was barely able to ignite his blade with fire and pull out his revolver with the other hand.


    Theodore slashed at the assassins around him, keeping them at a distance. The assassins growled, eagerly waiting for him to mess up and grant him an early death. Through the flames of his sword, Theodore could see his assailants a bit more clearer in the dark now.


    They wore cloaks made of leaves and feathers, and wooden masks over their heads to conceal their identities. Theodore observed that the group had four wolf swordsmen, two serpent spearmen, and a falcon at the distance. They were holding makeshift weapons, swords and spears resembling horns and antlers.


    Stepping foot a little closer toward Theodore was a wolf far bigger and muscular than the others. Unlike his companions, he wore black steel armor all over his body, a fur cape wrapped around his shoulders. His helmet was shaped like a wolf''s head. He held a long forked spear in his furry hand. His scent was somewhat spicy and musky than the other wolves.


    Theodore channeled his mana and poured them into the bullets in his revolver, transmuting them with fire and ice. At once, he fired a bullet at him. The leader blocked it with his spear but the bullet merely exploded in his face. Theodore took the opportunity to sprint back to the road.


    The falcon flew right in front of him and tried to stab Theodore with his talon feet. Theodore dodged out of the way and shot him dead with a revolver with a clear shot.


    The other demi-beasts gave chase, and they swerved around the trees as Theodore fired his gun. Terrible strategy, he thought to himself. He withdrew the revolver, now reduced to two bullets, and his flaming sword once more.


    A wolf and a serpent approached him, with their blades upon him. He kept one at bay with a wind spell that knocked him back whilst he dueled the other one. This wolf''s form was hard-hitting but too rigid. As soon as they clashed blades, Theodore maneuvered his around the blade and swiftly stabbed him in his chest, followed by a slash to the neck.


    The serpent one was quite nimble for his thin complexion. He was able to dodge Theodore''s swipes and slapped him aside with his lower half. As Theodore staggered, the serpent was ready to make a killing overhead slice. But Theodore quickly drew the revolver at the last moment and put a bullet in his head.


    Theodore raced through the road without a second thought. He swung his sword at the advancing pack, with such gusto that he made a wave of flames so severe that it spread across the forest. A wolf was so close to touching him when he was instantly turned into ashes as Theodore swung.


    Eventually the armored wolf caught up to him and sliced up a tree close to Theodore. Before Theodore could react, the wolf quickly stuck both ends of his spear at the tree behind him, pinning him by the neck.


    The wolf snarled at him so menacingly, but Theodore merely flinched at a sniff of his rancid breath. His eyes glowed amber in the dark, staring dead through Theodore''s glasses. The wolf flinched for a moment as he saw Theodore''s crimson eyes, but he regained his composure in a heartbeat.


    "This is the best hunter that pesky witch could find?" He whispered, licking Theodore''s left cheek. He took Theodore''s glasses and promptly crunched it under his fist right front of him. "Suffice to say, I''m not impressed."


    "That''s just hurtful," Theodore replied, maintaining a dead-like calm in his tone. "Tell me. Did the Countess wake up so inept that she would ask help from a bunch of dogs?"


    "Do not mock my brothers, you disgusting demon." he barked. "They were warriors and they fought bravely. You are a vile monster disguised as a puny human. Your pain shall be legendary."


    The wolf aimed his claws carefully at Theodore''s crimson eyes. But before he could thrust his claws, his arm stopped mid-action and began to shake violently, as bloody handprints spontaneously appeared on his arm.


    As Theodore''s eyes swarmed his surroundings, he caught a glimpse of Yvette slowly creeping up toward the Wolf, her emerald eyes glowing intensely in the dark. She twisted the amber knob on her cane and with a faint popping noise, pulled out a hidden sword and lunged at the Wolf.


    The noise blew her cover and the Wolf caught her blade with his hand, but in doing so left Theodore out of his sight. He then kicked the wolf in the nuts and punched his helmet off. It was enough time for Theodore to pull the spear off his neck. He ran toward Yvette, who was spraying fire from her cane at the wolf to cover his escape.


    The wolf shielded himself with his cloak, which seemingly did not burn from its touch. Another series of howls echoed throughout the forest, and the wolf began to laugh. Underneath the helmet was a head of dark hair, wild and unkept like a wolf''s mane. There was a big scar where his left ear should''ve been.


    Silhouettes of more raiders creep through fog. Theodore and Yvette found themselves enclosed from every corner of the forest. She flicked her cane and a giant ring of fire surrounded them, keeping the demi-beasts at a distance.


    "Where''s the old man?" Theodore asked.


    "I got him into the city safely." Yvette answered. "Reinforcements are coming. I had to come back and make sure you''re okay."


    The members of the Shadow''s Claw marched closer but kept their distance. "This ring of fire won''t last for long. On my mark, run for the city. I''ll hold them off." Yvette told Theodore.


    Theodore merely squinted at her. "You''re insane. You can''t face them off on your own. You''re only giving yourself a horrible death, you know that?"


    "Lady Fiona needs you more than me." Yvette yelled, her emerald eyes shimmered madly as she gazed at him longingly. "Trust me, I can handle this."


    "No you do not." Theodore coldly kept his ground firmly planted against the ground. "You hired me to hunt some monsters. Isn''t this what you asked me to do?"


    Yvette nodded, though it was clear from her hesitation that she was quietly against it. "On my mark." She sheathed her sword back into the cane.


    More of the half-wolf raiders jumped out from the shadows, keeping their distance, waiting for their prey to slip up and make a fatal blunder. But Theodore was at his most focused while Yvette was channeling a great deal of mana from the forest around her. Her cane began to glowed and sparks were crackling from the tip.


    Her eyes were bright red like the ring of flames she absorbed with her wand. "Go!"


    Theodore ducked out of the way. And the next thing he heard was an ear-shattering roar, as if it were thousands of people screaming all at once. He saw a dragon made of fire flying all around the forest, consuming everything in its path in an unquenchable flame.


    And in the center was Yvette, dancing ever so graciously. Wherever she flourished her cane like a maestro as she danced, the dragon followed its destination without hesitation like a choir.


    Theodore had only seen this magnificent act of magic once before through his aunt; this was all the proof he needed that Yvette truly was her student. Yet there was something off about her that he caught in a mere moment.


    Her scent was overridden by a foul stench that barely resembled her. Even her dancing, did not suit this noble lady. An aura of melancholy and maddening rage possessed her as she danced. But there was nothing he could do about her now, as the fight was far from over.


    The raiders were scattered and during the confusion, Theodore threw himself into the faction like a crazed demon. Having studied this group''s tactics in his few quarrels with them, he had already caught wind of their weaknesses and strengths.


    His fighting spirit revitalized and reinvigorated, he sliced and stabbed through entire groups of them. He somersaulted and pivoted past their slow and heavy blows, he was a quick little blur as he passed them by. Blood was all over his eyes, but Theodore barely blinked.


    He heard a voice whisper to him from somewhere. It was a cruel echo that he long tried to repress. "Feel the pleasure. Feel the ecstasy of the chaos. Doesn''t it excite you so? Let the beast loose and relinquish yourself to its will." It was a phantom bearing the same voice as his own.


    Even Theodore couldn''t make sense of the madness, he simply found himself tearing through whatever limbs he came across, narrowly dodging any attack thrown at him. As he slew, he caught a glimpse of the wolves when he snuffed the life out of them. Some of them stared at him with eyes of fury and anger.


    Others trembled with terror in their faces when he carved their bloody demises. Without his glasses, his vision became red like blood, his perception of reality was blurred and distorted.


    Theodore eventually stopped in his tracks as soon as he heard the distant sounds of a war horn. The demi-beasts stopped in their tracks and began racing toward the darkness of the woods.


    "Blast! It''s the Cardinal army!" He ordered his men. "Collect our wounded and retreat." He glared at Theodore as he disappeared into the embers of the battle.


    Theodore found himself standing amidst a pool of blood and corpses, eviscerated into tiny scraps of flesh and gore below him. He felt something warm and thick trickling down his face and licked it. It was blood, and it felt tasty.


    "See? You are a monster," the phantom taunted him. "You will never escape that which you are. No cure will be able to quench your lust. Just give in to the beast that you are."


    Theodore then bashed his head against a nearby tree to make them stop. The voice, now more monstrous than before, merely cackled at his agony.


    "Shut up," he yelled to the laughing phantom. "I said shut up, damn it!"


    Then the phantom disappeared. He felt nothing but a painful sting on his forehead. He wiped the blood off his face and went to check on Yvette. He found her passed out on the open field as embers burned what was left of the forest into ashes. Strangely, whatever dark aura he sensed whilst she danced to a sonata of flame has now dissipated.


    She seemed so gentle when she was not annoying him. Her skin was smooth and tender, though soaked with mud and sweat. Her hazy breath smelled fondly of apple pies and chamomile. Her green cloak made her stand out against the night-ridden landscape, and the tone of her blonde hair sharpened with the glow of the flames.


    It was driving him crazy how beautiful she looked even whilst unconscious, it made Theodore wonder just how much she would taste if she were dead. Wait, what the bloody hell was I thinking? Theodore slapped himself back to his senses.


    He immediately carried her in his arms and turned his attention to the approaching band of musketeers on horseback. They wore a navy blue tabard with a symbol of a golden lion over their clothes, and feathered hats on their heads. They either held rifles or flags.


    The group were shocked when they witnessed the aftermath of the battle. Theodore marched upon them with Yvette in his hands, which startled their horses. The musketeers panicked and aimed their rifles at the blood-soaked hunter, whose crimson eyes gleamed devilishly.


    "Stand down!" Shouted the commander, who galloped through the garrison to meet Theodore. "This is Lady Fiona''s apprentice, damn it! Take her back to the city or Lady Fiona will have your heads!"


    "But what about the hunter, Sir Sebastian?" A soldier yelled.


    "What about him?" The commander raised a curious eyebrow.


    "He bears the Hollow''s curse. Look at his eyes, they burn with hellfire!" Shouted one of his riders.


    "Smell his monstrous stench!" Said another.


    The commander dismounted off his black steed and stood right in front of Theodore, staring him down with his only blue eye as a black eye patch concealed his scarred left side. He looked at him with caution, but he wasn''t afraid of him.


    He was far taller than Theodore, more muscular too. It was hard to determine his age, but he might be a few years older than him.


    He had short brown hair, and a gruff-looking scowl upon him. He wore a pitch black cloak unlike his companions, and a tricorn hat on his head. A longsword with a bear''s head for a pommel, and a pistol rested on both sides of his belt.


    "I need to speak with Lady Fiona," Theodore simply spoke, handing over the unconscious Yvette to the commander. "She''s expecting me."


    "So you''re the hunter she sent Yvette to fetch?" The commander intensely searched him as if he were an explosive keg ready to blow. "My name is Sebastian le Roy, commander of the Cardinal''s Army. May I ask for your name, hunter?"


    "Theodore."


    Sebastian eyed the burning forest from afar with a proud smirk. "By the looks of it, that brute Lycaon seems to have brought enough men here to overwhelm my troops. You spared me from dealing with a costly battle.


    "I suppose to be able to fend off that many bandits, much less survive in one piece, that is impressive. You seem quite skilled, Theodore, and I respect that. I will see to it that the Lady receives your message when we return to the city."


    "Can I request a bath while we''re at it?" Theodore simply replied. "For all their suspicions, your men are right about one thing. I reek horribly."

 Chapter 4

    It''s been two days since they placed him in this small shabby room somewhere within the College. The room he was given to rest on was cramped, bricked with bronze, and bright candlelight kept his room from becoming pitch black. He was too injured to move his body or leave the room.


    Doctors tended to him day and night, and his luggage and identification was safely returned. No doubt that Fiona was making sure he was more than comfortable in Vollimere.


    Not even a warm bath could get that painful memory out of Theodore''s head. The brutal imagery of the burning forest and the corpses of the Wolves was still freshly ripe in his mind. Just imagining it was enough to make his wounds sting, even though they''ve been stitched shut by now. He splashed his face full of water before he stepped out of the bath.


    Speaking of Vollimere, the city itself was a behemoth more than the other cities he''s visited before.  The city was surrounded by a massive wall that stretched for miles, built with black bricks and spikes formed around the base. It was too tall even to scale, no wonder it hasn''t been penetrated for so long, not even the Shadow''s Claw could perceive to breach it.


    Inside the wall, a multitude of various buildings and houses littered each nook and cranny of a territory the size of a small ocean. The streets were always busy, even at night where the city lights felt like stars on the ground.


    As he sat alone, admiring the nightly view from his window, the silence gave Theodore a lot of time to reflect on past events. It struck him that he hasn''t heard "that voice" for the longest time before the forest. Taunting him when he was so close to becoming the very monster he was sworn to kill.


    Has it been a while since he was able to let his bloodthirsty inhibitions loose? Theodore asked himself. The entire time he slaughtered those demi-beasts, he found himself relishing under an intense pleasure that nearly overtook his mind.


    "Time is running out, Theodore," the monstrous voice called out to Theodore as a dark shadowy figure instantly appeared behind him. Though he was alone, he could see its form from the reflection of his mirror.


    Its entire body was painted in blood, a perfect imitation of Theodore in the aftermath of his battle with the Claws. Its hair was disheveled, and it wore a crooked smile from ear to ear.


    It was a phantom of his likeness born from the demon''s curse, looking to torment him and cloud his judgment. With his special glasses broken during the battle, Theodore


    "Your strength is waning. It won''t be long before you lose control for good, and I take over your precious body."


    "You heard that apprentice, yes?" Theodore said to the phantom. "There is a cure, and Fiona found it. It will be mine after I complete their task."


    The phantom giggled horribly. "And you believe her? So soon? Poor little Theodore... You''re so desperate to become something you''ll never become, that you''re willing to side with the one that betrayed you."


    "I''m not taking any sides here. I''m just strictly here for business, as usual." Theodore retorted. "But I will tell you this, demon. If this cure turns out to be a farce, I''ll let you decide what to do with Fiona."


    "Attaboy..." The phantom hissed. "Admit it. You enjoyed slaughtering those poor beasts in that battle. They never should''ve left their poor cages, don''t you think?"


    "No, it doesn''t." Theodore stared at his reflection, as the phantom set foot just behind him. "They were fighting for a cause, and they died bravely."


    "You keep telling yourself that," it fondled his neck. "But let me remind you. If it weren''t for me, you would''ve been dead a long time ago. Remember the witch?"


    "All too well." Theodore knew the demon was right; had it not been for its help, the witch would''ve overtaken him sooner or later.


    Theodore''s conversation with his phantom was then interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door, followed by the scent of roses and grapes, and a familiar voice.


    "Now might be your cue, demon," Theodore told it. "Now leave me alone with my guest."


    The phantom chuckled again. "I''ll see you soon." And disappeared from the reflection as quickly as he came.


    Theodore draped his overcoat over his shoulders. "Who''s there?"


    "It''s me. Did you miss me?" Yvette''s voice responded.


    "Hardly. Come in."


    Yvette let herself in and greeted Theodore with her signature smile. Her long hair was hanging freely down her waist, she simply wore a dark green dress and her black gloves were still wrapped around her arms. Not a single speck of makeup on her round rosy face. She was still holding her cane, which she needed as she''s got a limp.


    "I haven''t heard from you in two days. Did that little spectacle leave you THAT exhausted?" Theodore asked.


    "That spectacle took a lot of mana to conjure." Yvette sighed as she sat on the bed. "And yes, I was bedridden for a day. I couldn''t lift a damn finger."


    "That must have been painful. Would''ve been hilarious to see." Theodore blankly commented as he slurped on a cup of milk.


    "Very funny," Yvette snickered, before dropping her bubbly act in a second. "I nearly forgot to thank you, Theo."


    "For what? And don''t call me Theo."


    Yvette''s smile was now genuinely sincere. "For saving me. Normally when I unleash my full power, it would drain too much of my life force and well, I''m about as good as a vegetable for a while after that. But I heard that you carried me out of that forest. And for that, I couldn''t be more grateful for you. Now I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Theo."


    "You don''t want me owing you anything." Theodore shook his head, unconvinced. "But I am curious about something."


    "About what?" Yvette asked.


    "I saw how well you danced alongside the fire," Theodore recounted. "You were dancing so strangely. Like you were channeling the flames with every step, but you also seem as if you''re in a trance. I could sniff out in your aura back then that... it''s not you."


    Yvette began to shiver upon hearing that. She leaned closer to Theodore and touched his chest. "Vengeful ghosts with unfinished business tend to have a stronger essence than those without. Their essence... I find them to be a great source of power. And you have so many of them, permanently tethered to you by a thread tied by bloodshed. So that night, we were cornered and I... couldn''t resist."


    It began to click in Theodore''s mind. "You absorb these ghosts and use their essence to fuel your magic?"


    "Correct," she answered. "But by doing so, I absorbed a part of the ghost into my very soul. For a moment they take over my body and... do whatever they can before they lose and completely assimilate into my very being."


    Even Theodore was appalled by this discovery. But he had one more question left in mind. "Does it¡­ Does it hurt when you absorb them?"


    She stared at him, her eyes sparkled with unsung agony. "A lot," she said sadly. "More often than not, fragments of these ghosts find their way to recombine themselves and try to take over permanently. The power I get from them is quite enriching, but every day becomes a struggle, being able to perceive them, being able to... feel their anguish. I find it to be both a blessing and a curse."


    Theodore could only manage a sigh. "A damned soul. Just like me then."


    He quietly allowed Yvette to lean over his shoulder. As she did, Theodore felt the begrudging fury stemming of his collection of ghosts surrounding him through the cold chill.


    "Anything else you want to tell me?" Theodore picked up a glass of warm milk from the table.


    "Oh. Lady Fiona has just cleared her schedule. She sent me here to escort you to her study to speak with her and the Headmaster."


    Theodore wiped the milk mustache off his upper lip. "Took their bloody time." He muttered. "I need to get out of this shabby room anyway. Too much of this depressing energy is going to rile up these ghosts, don''t you think?"


    Yvette managed a chuckle. "You''re damn right, Theo. Let''s get out of here."


    "And don''t call me Theo. It''s annoying, so stop it."


    At once, the duo left the tower and made their way through Saint Lucille''s College of War. The corridors in the building were structured with high arch ceilings, rows of wide stained windows occupy the left side of the hall while elaborate paintings of the city''s history fill the right. Columns decorate each corner of the corridors with candelabras attached to them.


    The courtyard was the biggest that Theodore had ever seen. The garden held a wild assortment of various plants, flowers and trees exotic to the continent of Fericire.


    A golden fountain with a statue of Saint Lucille stood at the center. Everywhere they went, Theodore simply admired the architecture and he didn''t care that the Keep was an elaborate maze of corridors.


    "So what does this school teach, other than war?" Theodore asked.


    "Well, aside from being a war hero in the Crusades, Saint Lucille is also an influential alchemist. She''s the one who revolutionized the art of transmutation, which is now being used to create better medicine, potions and such." Yvette explained.


    Theodore simply nodded along. "And where do the students sleep?"


    "They should be asleep by now in the dormitories on the west wing," Yvette answered. "But today, the Headmaster has asked for a strict curfew to return to their dormitories immediately before dusk."


    "For what purpose?"


    Yvette stared into his eyes, as hers saw a bright deep crimson gazing back at her. "I think you know, Theo. It was Lady Fiona who proposed the curfew to the Headmaster, after all."


    Theodore lost his glasses at the battle. The Hollow''s mark he bore was completely exposed.


    The courtyard was the biggest that Theodore had ever seen. The garden held a wild assortment of various plants, flowers and trees exotic to the continent of Fericire.


    A golden fountain with a statue of Saint Lucille stood at the center. She was depicted as wearing a scholarly robe, with a sword on one hand and a flask in the other. Around her neck was a necklace with several emblems of alchemy symbols chained upon it.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Everywhere they went, Theodore simply admired the architecture and he didn''t care that the Keep was an elaborate maze of corridors.


    "I''ve never seen such excellent craftsmanship." Theodore observed.


    Yvette''s face gleamed with pride. "I''m glad you''re enjoying your time here, Theodore. Now then, the study should be this way."


    "Actually, why do we have to go to Fiona right now?" Theodore said to her. "Why don''t you give me a tour of the whole keep while we''re here?"


    Yvette was appalled by such a mischievous thought. "We can''t, Theodore. I''m under strict orders and we don''t have the time."


    "Well, it doesn''t seem like Fiona is going anywhere right now. And I want to take a good look at the College while we''re still alone." Theodore attempted to smile slyly, but his muscles struggled as though he lacked practice doing so.


    "It can wait, Theo. We don''t want to keep Lady Fiona and the Headmaster waiting now, do we?" Yvette reaffirmed.


    "Hmph. You''re no fun."


    "Huh. I didn''t think you''d be fond of fun."


    Theodore and Yvette pressed on to the study, and goodness it was massive. It was a labyrinth of shelves containing a great collection of books and scrolls of many subjects and categories. The chandelier was shaped like a solar system, with the sun as the very light of the room.


    The Headmaster and Lady Fiona sat on a long table next to the fireplace. The headmaster of the College was still in his nightly robes, hidden under his red scholar''s cloak. His face was gaunt and wrinkly, he was balding with a bushy beard over his chin, but he managed a comely smile upon Yvette and Theodore.


    Lady Fiona wore an elaborate golden escoffion headwear, covering her hair and neck underneath. Her diamond-shaped face was painted in white, with a single black stripe on her lower lip. Her ornate black gown was fashioned with crow feathers layered over the fabric.


    Despite such an elaborate outfit that made her nearly unrecognizable, Theodore can always tell her by the sharp concentrated look in her violet eyes. She gazed at him as he did with his own eyes that made the Headmaster shake in fear. But she didn''t flinch at all.


    "Headmaster Martin, Lady Fiona." Yvette bowed before either of them. "I present to you in person, Theodore Barclay."


    She turned to Theodore next. "Theodore, I introduce you to Lord Martin Gardener, the Cardinal''s chief alchemist and the Headmaster of our esteemed College. And Lady Fiona..."


    "You already told me plenty about her on the way here." Theodore raised his hand. "That should be quite enough."


    Yvette turned to him. "Please don''t disrespect Lady Fiona right in front of-"


    "Yvette, it''s quite alright."


    "My word, It''s an honor to see you, lad." Lord Martin mustered up the courage to offer Theodore his hand. "You''re Lady Fiona''s nephew, right? I''ve been told stories of you and your... affliction. But nothing could prepare me for actually seeing it in person."


    "She talks about me? Quite unnatural of her." Theodore shook his hand.


    "And on top of that, you''re a Barclay." Lord Martin remarked. "Why, the Barclays are always welcome in the Cardinal''s city. Your father, poor sir Henry, was an incredible alchemist just as he is a powerful magician. He was the one who sealed the enchantress Dorottya away twenty years ago."


    "Is that so?" Theodore was bemused to hear that, glaring at Fiona for a moment. "I didn''t know about that. To be frank, I never bothered to learn anything about my father. He died long before I was born anyway."


    "Oh, you poor thing." Lord Martin had a mournful look on his face. "Sir Henry was of great help to the city when he last came here, and we haven''t been able to repay him for his kindness. I could quite see a lot of him in you, lad."


    "Enough," Lady Fiona snapped. "Martin, you can sing your praises later. We have important matters to discuss with my dear nephew, don''t we? Please, take your seats."


    And so, Yvette took a seat next to the Headmaster while Theodore sat across from Lady Fiona.


    "I take it that my apprentice has already told you the basics of our current conundrum?" Lady Fiona asked.


    "Quite so. An ancient vampiress from myth has come back from the dead, declaring war on the city. She is in league with a rebellion of demi-beasts that I quelled two days before with the assistance of your apprentice." Theodore reported. "I suppose that''s the gist of it, but I would be quick to assume that there''s more to that?"


    "Calling her ancient is an understatement," Headmaster Martin remarked. "She was alive way back when Vollimere was still ruled by kings, not by lords or cardinals like today. Even then, she was just as despicable as she is now as a vampire in a lot of ways."


    "Enlighten me," Theodore replied.


    "Dorottya was responsible for the constant plagues and disasters that nearly led the kingdom into starvation and ruin. She lured innocent children away into the mountains, where she would tear their bodies apart as ingredients to her potions." The Headmaster then gulped. "But they couldn''t compare to her most despicable crime."


    "And what would that be, sir?" Theodore asked.


    The Headmaster smacked his lips together. "Dorottya seduced our first king, Roderick, into falling madly in love with her. She bore a child with him out of wedlock, and then proclaimed herself as the Queen and her spawn as the rightful heir to the dynasty."


    "I take it that everyone back then wasn''t too happy with that?" Theodore guessed.


    "Not quite," the Headmaster continued. "The King was so bewitched by her charms, that he called off an arranged alliance to Princess Loretta of Creston to make Dorottya his queen instead. Of course, Roderick''s council did not take his decision kindly and decided to have her killed and bring sense back to the king before she assumed control completely.


    "There was only one way to rid the King of the charm: the heart of the witch itself. And so, the council hired a group of hunters to track her down in her domain somewhere in the mountains. The band of hunters chased her all the way into the heart of the forest until she grew exhausted. They cut out her heart and left her dying body to the mercy of the maggots and the wolves."


    Theodore nodded along, seeming unvexed by the tale. "And what of her child?"


    "A monster''s spawn. Malformed, and hideous when the hunter found it. It was said to have prickly scales instead of skin, pus instead of blood." The headmaster carried on. "It shrieked so horribly when it cried that it shook the entire province awake. The hunters dashed the poor bastard against the stones and threw the carcass beside her.."


    "And the King Roderick?"


    "Cured of her spell by a concoction made from her heart''s essence. He went on to rebuild the kingdom that the enchantress nearly brought to destruction, and wedded the Princess, further strengthening their alliance with the other kingdom."


    Theodore adjusted his collar. "An interesting tale. But we know this wasn''t the end of her. She became a vampire, did she not?"


    "Indeed, this is not the first time she struck at Vollimere as a vengeful vampire." The Headmaster explained. "Twenty years ago, what started as small ambushes on merchants and the common folk turned for the worst as Dorottya delved deeper into necromancy. Slowly she amassed an army of monsters, and began marching her way toward the city, slaughtering anyone who comes in her way and turning them into her undead slaves.


    "She also took it upon himself to bewitch some of the nobility over to her side, further strengthening her forces. She was almost victorious in storming the capital itself, when death finally came to her in the form of a powerful magician..."


    "My father, I presume?" Theodore asked once more.


    "Yes," Lady Fiona butted in. "As the situation worsened, the Parliament sent forth two of their best magicians to deal with Dorottya''s insurrection. Your father Henry, and myself. Henry took it upon himself to slay the vampiress once and for all while I helped the Cardinal''s army defeat her loyal subjects. In the end, Henry couldn''t defeat her so he imprisoned her in a magical seal instead, and imprisoned she remained."


    "Lady Fiona and Henry helped rebuild the city in the aftermath, too." The Headmaster intervened. "For twenty years, we''ve enjoyed quite a long period of peace that we thought would last forever..." His expression darkened. "That is until a few weeks ago."


    "The attacks from the Shadow''s Claw, and the fact that Dorottya has returned to wreak havoc on the province yet again?" Theodore adjusted himself in his seat.


    Lady Fiona nodded. "Precisely. The circumstances of how she escaped the seal is unclear even to me, but she has indeed returned to bring about her vengeance once again. But it is clear that she made an unlikely alliance with the Claw to help bring the Cardinal to his knees."


    "What good does Dorottya get with an alliance with a bunch of demi-beasts?" Theodore inquired yet again.


    "Theodore, the Claw are full of demi-beasts who were cruelly mistreated by humans when they were formerly... slaves." Yvette spoke, her face cringed as she said that last word. "They brought down the Province of Pellazar five months ago, their numbers growing by the hundreds."


    "So those bandits we killed along the road were simply...?"


    "A fraction of a bigger army. Despite how different their species are and where their loyalties lie, Dorottya and the Claw are bound by one goal and one goal only; the destruction of Vollimere entirely."


    Theodore straightened himself up in his chair. "And how is the situation going right now?" He asked after a moment of silence.


    "Raids in several villages, each having only one survivor to tell the tale," Lady Fiona elaborated. "To avoid general panic, the Cardinal had them silenced. Not a word about Dorottya''s return shall reach the public''s ears. So as far as the rest of the city knows, the Claw alone is responsible for the recent attacks. The Cardinal sent his army, led by Sebastian le Roy, to scour the region and make a good example of the Claw."


    "And this must be where I come in?" Theodore stared at Lady Fiona, dead in the eye. "You want me to kill her?"


    "It''s an order, not a want." Lady Fiona replied. "I had you in mind for this mission, because I have something I know you''ve been chasing after this whole time."


    "Show me, then." Theodore sternly ordered. "I can''t just simply abide by your words alone and do your dirty work without question. Show me proof that you have it, Fiona, or you will never see me again."


    Yvette and the Headmaster, who were quietly snacking on a bowl of biscuits, turned to Lady Fiona as she unveiled a rolled-up piece of paper. It smelled like old scented candles and the paper seemed very old. Lady Fiona unrolled the paper and passed it on to Theodore''s hands.


    Theodore''s eyes widened as he read through the torn page. It was the first page of a chapter simply titled ¡°Caeleste Metamorphoses, Purgatorio Magnae Daemonis Exsecratio¡±. He felt the demon inside him quiver when he spoke that sacred language.


    ¡°The Heavenly Ordinance, the Purging of the Great Demon¡¯s Curse,¡± Theodore translated.


    There were written instructions on how to conduct a great ritual in the shape of the pentagram, meant to exorcize the most grueling of curses out of the afflicted body whereupon the expelled demon will die at the touch of sunlight. Alongside it was the prayer incantation needed to activate it. Theodore was just about ready to know more, only to find the prayer cut off where the page ended.


    It was a miracle, yet Theodore hardly believed in miracles. He looked toward Lady Fiona with bewildered eyes. ¡°This¡­ how did you get this?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Rumor has it that Dorottya is in possession of a grimoire written by Anasterion de la Torre, a magician who was said to have seen and went to Heaven with his own eyes, and was taught in the holy arts of the Angels. He documented this forbidden wisdom which he was bestowed, into a grimoire that never saw the light of day. I sent a group of magicians to her domain, hoping to steal it from her.¡± Lady Fiona recounted.


    ¡°But they were discovered and Dorottya picked them off one by one. Only one managed to survive and escape to the city, with a handful of pages torn straight from the grimoire itself. When I found this page among those she took, I knew I had to find you. So I sent Yvette here to seek you out and bring you here.¡±


    Theodore simply bobbed his head up and down. ¡°But it¡¯s only just the first page. That would mean I have to go to Dorottya¡¯s domain to get a hold of the rest of it.¡±


    ¡°Yes, unfortunately.¡± Lady Fiona could muster such a reply.


    ¡°Fun,¡± Theodore said, his face was the exact opposite of what he uttered. ¡°Though I fail to see how I¡¯m going to fight an ancient vampire queen and an army of demi-beasts at the same time.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about that, Theodore.¡± Yvette spoke. ¡°I''ll accompany you in your journey."


    "I didn''t ask for your help."


    "Of course, you didn''t. Lady Fiona said I had to. Besides, I owe you a lot for protecting me."


    The Headmaster stood up from his seat. "That''s settled then. I shall see you, Lady Fiona. And Theodore, it''s a pleasure to meet you. As of now, you are an esteemed guest of the College. You are welcome to use any services in the College that can assist you in your hunt." He turned to Yvette. "Child, take me to my quarters. All this talk has made me sleepy."


    Yvette took the Headmaster by the hand and escorted him out of the chamber. But before she discreetly winked at Theodore, who blatantly ignored her. Now, Theodore was all alone with Lady Fiona in the study. He was just about to rise from his seat when she raised her hand.


    "Before you leave, I want to give you something." Lady Fiona said, pulling out a small wooden box from under her sleeves. "Open it."


    Theodore opened the box and found a pair of round glasses. The lenses were tinted in sapphire blue, and thickly rimmed in obsidian. An iron chain was attached to both arms. It was a near-perfect replica of his old glasses, which he built as a way of concealing his crimson eyes, the one he lost in his battle with the Wolf.


    "I had your glasses fixed by the alchemists of the College during your recovery," Lady Fiona told him. "You''ll find it handles the same but with a few adjustments. I chose a specific lens that improves your eyesight and I enchanted them to see through optical illusions. The alchemists also chose a metal for the rim that makes it impossible to break."


    Theodore held the glasses in his hands. It wasn''t too heavy or too light. He wore them and it was just as Lady Fiona described; he saw faraway objects a lot clearer now.


    "I didn''t expect you to be this generous." Theodore took them off and placed them back into the box delicately.


    "Consider it a gift from me." Lady Fiona coldly smiled.


    "Surely, this isn''t going to make up for the day that you abandoned me," Theodore said so callously.


    "Of course not," Lady Fiona simply replied, staring at him with such empty violet eyes. "It''s more of thank you for accepting this task. Not just from me, but from the entirety of Vollimere. So it is in your best interest to just accept what you were given."


    Theodore sat up from his chair, the box in his hands. "I''ll be retiring for the night. I shall start my hunt tomorrow in the earnest. Farewell, Lady Fiona."


    "And farewell to you too, Theodore." Lady Fiona also rose up from her chair. "I''ve placed a large bet on your survival, so don''t disappoint me tomorrow."


    She winked at him, the same cold eye like Yvette''s, and disappeared in a shimmering smoke, leaving Theodore alone in the study with her gift in his hands and the torn page on the table.

 Chapter 5

    Whilst Theodore slumbered away into his chambers, he began to recall the memory from when he first met Lady Fiona. He was just ten years old when he first awakened his magical abilities, accidentally blowing up his grandfather''s cottage in a burst of flames and nearly setting the surrounding forest on a raging wildfire.


    It was a rarity in itself, as twelve years were the common age when magical energy would awaken among gifted children. Despite the damages, his grandfather took it as a gracious sign that Theodore had inherited his father''s extraordinary talents as a magician.


    But no matter who his grandfather hired to find, no master would teach him how to properly temper his magic. But why wouldn''t they? One look at young Theodore''s empty eyes staring deep into them would make them flee in terror, spouting nonsense and curses at him. Things that his grandfather tried to silence with a slap or two.


    Then came that fateful day when she walked into the forest and was invited into the cottage by his grandfather. When Theodore asked for her name, he had a furrowed and begrudging expression on his wrinkly face.


    "Theodore," he told his grandson. "This is Lady Fiona Beaulfoy, a mistress of great magic. It''s okay, she knows who you are. She''ll be your teacher in magic, so be nice to her."


    That day, Lady Fiona wore a black gown that rustled underneath her violet cloak. Her silver blonde hair nearly matched his own, but her long silky locks were decorated with fragrant black rose petals. When she knelt to meet his crimson eyes with her own, a bright pair of violets, she merely smiled at him.


    "You must be Theodore," she said, her voice was half a song and half a whisper. "I just love your eyes. They''re so pretty."


    Theodore''s heart skipped a beat. To him, this was the first time someone had ever admired them quite like her.


    "I said you can only teach him magic, not to try and cuddle him. He''s not your family anymore. He is simply your student." His grandfather sternly spoke. He never raised his voice even once, but it was as terrible as a lion''s. "Remember our deal, Fiona."


    "All too well, Viktor," she replied, standing up to face the old man. "You don''t need to worry. I won''t get too attached to the boy. I''ll simply train him in what he needs to learn and I''ll be on my way as quickly as I arrive."


    Viktor sighed, his snowy-white beard fluttered from his breath. "You better. I shall leave you both for now. I''ll see you tonight, Theodore."


    He gathered his axe and left the cottage to another hunt. Lady Fiona watched from the window until old Viktor''s gone out of sight. Lady Fiona then sat on Viktor''s red armchair and stared at Theodore. Her eyes swam all around the cottage, as an assortment of weapons, relics, spoils of war, skulls of slain monsters, and only a few framed pictures occupied the whole shack.


    "You don''t speak much, do you, child?" She asked.


    Theodore simply shook his head, taking a seat in a tiny stool in front of her.


    "It''s okay," She said. "Just nod or shake your head when I ask you a question. I''d like to know..." She stuttered in her words as she spoke, her gaze mellowed and her eyebrows frowned. "Has life been kind to you all these years? Yes or no?"


    Theodore looked at himself as if the answer was obvious. He pulled on his long sleeves to shamelessly reveal several bruises and cuts all over his arm. Lady Fiona''s eyes widened with shock.


    "How did you get those?" She asked as she inspected his arm with such concern.


    "It''s those kids down at the village," Theodore replied. "Usually when children get near me or look at my eyes, they''d either scream or throw rocks at me, calling me a demon the entire time."


    "Damn that old man!" She uttered angrily under her breath. "Could he not see his own grandson be treated this way? I''m going to blast him with flames the next time I-"


    "Don''t blame my grandfather," the boy told her. "He never wanted me to go there, he said it''s for my safety. But I didn''t listen, and I went there anyway."


    "But why would you go there?" Lady Fiona asked.


    "Because I... wanted to go and play with the other kids over there," Theodore confessed. "I couldn''t control myself when they did those things on me. At least now I know why he told me not to go."


    Lady Fiona sighed as she placed her hand on his wounds and chanted a small prayer. Theodore flinched as he felt his wounds healing until there was not a single bruise on his arm.


    "There we go," she told him. "It''s been a while since I''ve ever healed anyone."


    Theodore looked at her with newfound interest. "Could you... teach me how to do that, too?"


    Lady Fiona mustered a slight grin on her face. "Before we get started, my student, I want you to know that magic is not a simple subject." Lady Fiona instructed. "It is a delicate art mastered only by the most dedicated of magicians. It''s not quite as physically grueling as monster hunting, but to harness magic is to have a strong will and determination to see it to success."


    "So I shall ask you this, Theodore. Do you have what it takes to be a magician?" She stood up and towered over him.


    Theodore''s eyes swam all over his sockets. But it wasn''t an opportunity he couldn''t turn down. And thus, he opened his mouth and spoke out his answer...


    ??


    Theodore took to the College''s central courtyard early in the morning with his sword in hand. Two days were enough time to recover from his injuries, now he must get himself into shape, otherwise the swordsmanship skills he spent years trying to hone will rust in a matter of days completely.


    Thus, he closed his eyes, planted his feet firmly on the stone path, and tightened his grip around the handle. Reminiscing about his grandfather''s training, he acted accordingly.


    "Listen carefully, Theo." He recalled his grandfather''s voice from memory as if he were there with him. "The rapier, despite its seemingly thin complexion, is far more difficult to brandish in battle than a longsword or an axe. It can''t generate power through momentum like an ax, or be sturdy enough to parry anything quite like a longsword.


    "It''s a weapon that does not require the strength of a warrior, but the sharp precision of a surgeon. The blade is mainly capable of stabbing, but simply thrusting it into a vital organ is enough to end a life in seconds, both human and vampire alike.


    "I won''t question your unconventional choice of weapon, Theo. Hunters do that all the time, choosing tools that align with their own unique way of killing monsters. The bigger question would be this: how would you use such a weapon to your advantage?"


    Theodore took a step forward, flourishing his sword as it twisted around his fingers. He imagined himself as being in a dance of death with his sword as his partner, making fast but graceful pirouettes as he waltzed. This made swerving and evading incoming attacks much smoother, and Theodore needed only a fleeting moment of hesitation to launch a fatal strike.


    Theodore quickly noticed the familiar scent of white roses and grapes coming from his back. So like a viper, he instinctively lunged at the person behind him.


    Fortunately Yvette unsheathed her sword in time and parried it, the clash of their blades sang a tune of ringing steel. She was wearing a plain green tunic, brown pants, and the usual black gloves today.


    "Easy with that! You could''ve killed me with such concentration," she warned him.


    "Shame I didn''t concentrate hard enough then," Theodore casually replied.


    "Very funny." Yvette made half a scoff and half a laugh. "I like your sword. Looks quite like a rapier, but the blade is a little thicker," she observed. "Such craftsmanship... Where did you get this?


    "I forged it myself," Theodore responded. "As a rite of passage among hunters, they must forge their own weapon from which their livelihood and survival depends on. I simply built my sword to be light enough to complement my speed, but sturdy enough to cut through anything or block heavy blows."


    Yvette smiled, as she touched the flat of the blade. It was as cold as ice and at close inspection, it looked transparent like glass. Engraved upon the steel were runes that Yvette noticed. "This is a protection charm. If you place it on any weapon or armor, it''ll become unbreakable, even from magic."


    "I see you''ve been doing your homework on my family''s secrets," Theodore said. "Fiona must have grown so callous giving them to you. Don''t tell me you came here so early in the morning just to spy on me?"


    "Not at all," Yvette replied. "Regular students aren''t supposed to be up this early, so this is the only time in a day when I could train alone by myself."


    "Are you not a student here? You definitely look like one." Theodore noted. "And by the looks of it last night, you''re very close with the Headmaster."


    "He''s my guardian," Yvette replied. "Lord Martin is a kind man, enough to take in someone like me as his ward. He taught me in the way of the sword, just as Fiona taught me the art of magic."


    Theodore nodded. "Now that you said that, I came here to hone my swordsmanship too. I think I''ve gone a little rusty after two days in solitary confinement."


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Me too," Yvette replied. "I hope you don''t mind, Theo, but can I spar with you for a moment? I''ve been itching to test my skills out on a proper swordsman like yourself."


    Theodore tilted his head, wordlessly observing her petite stature and thin physique. "I suppose it wouldn''t hurt to give you a little beating." Theodore raised his sword. "But be warned, Miss Yvette. I won''t hold back, even to a lady."


    Yvette merely smiled as she assumed her fighting stance, pointing her sword at him. "Even better."


    The tip of their swords met in a heated clash. Theodore and Yvette glared at each other like a pair of feasting hyenas, eager to find their opponent''s weak points and exploit it to an easy victory.


    Theodore made the first move, he twisted his blade around Yvette''s and lunged at her chest. Yvette quickly parried his strike and very soon did she retaliate by throwing a flurry of swipes straight at him.


    As they fought, Theodore observed the way she fought. It was clear that Yvette was an accomplished magician, but her skill with the sword came as a surprise for him.


    Though she may not be as fast or hard-hitting as Theodore, she made up for it with her slim and flexible complexion. She glided around the courtyard, trying to lunge at him from all angles.


    Whenever Theodore got too close and swung his sword at her, Yvette simply ducked into a perfect split and attempted to sweep his legs from under him.


    Theodore leapt out of the way, quickly following it with an overhead swing. She tumbled out of the way, immediately somersaulted back to her feet.


    Yvette then threw Theodore off by feint an attack which made him instinctively rush her. When Theodore took the bait, she immediately pounced on him, managing to hit his shoulder as a result.


    It would seem that Yvette has incorporated certain ballet moves into her form. Theodore was strangely impressed by her managing to hit her, but now he found a way to bypass her technique.


    He waited for the opportune moment for her to thrust at him from the front. And when she does so, Theodore leaned back to evade the coming blade. He then reversed his grip on the sword and jabbed her in the gut.


    Yvette lost her footing, but Theodore grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. In the span of a second, he pulled her sword out of her hand and pointed his own directly at her neck.


    None of them moved a muscle or uttered a word, only tired breaths as they gasped for air. Theodore and Yvette stared at each other like a pair of ravenous lions, ready to eat each other up. He eventually loosened his grip around her and swiped the sweat off his brow.


    "You''re a good swordsman, I must say," Theodore remarked. "It begs the question. Why don''t you make use of it more often?"


    Yvette collected her sword and her scabbard from the ground. "Lady Fiona said that it''s not expected of me as a lady to use such sharp weapons, for she only needs her wits and her charm. And a little bit of magic, of course."


    Theodore watched as Yvette sheathed the sword back into the cane and twisted it shut. "Quite an ingenious way to disguise a weapon, I must say. Too bad it''s wasted on a magician."


    Yvette''s face flushed red at his remark. "Wasted, you say?" She gasped in disgust.


    Very quickly she tapped the ground with her cane, and a trail of ice materialized from where the tip landed and raced toward Theodore in the blink of an eye. Before he could even dodge it, the ice had formed around Theodore''s body and froze it in place. Yvette approached him, with such passionate anger in her glare.


    "I may not be as good of a swordsman as you are, Theodore," she told him so sternly. "But I am a damn good magician, and I don''t have to use souls for it. In a test of magic, I could have beaten you just as quickly."


    "Duly noted, milady," Theodore scowled. "Now will you release me from my frozen bonds, or do I have to break out of it myself?"


    Without a word, Yvette tapped her cane again as steam erupted from the tip. It was burning red as she pressed it against the ice. The frozen restraints melted off Theodore, who merely shrugged off the cold.


    "Who trained you in sword-fighting, I''m curious?" Yvette asked him.


    "My grandfather," Theodore replied. "Viktor is a hunter of many talents, the likes of which he obtained from his long life as a hunter. He made sure to pass on all his knowledge to me should there be a time he would just up and die and leave me all alone.


    "Sure, he''s given me the most brutal training imaginable, but he did so to make sure that my demonic side could find purpose not as a mindless killer, but as a properly-tempered hunter." He winced as he said that.


    "It sounds to me that your grandfather loved you a lot, Theo." Yvette smiled. "He used his knowledge of demons to make sure that you wouldn''t end up like one."


    "I wouldn''t know myself. After all, I''ve never loved him at all," Theodore spoke grimly. "But I respect him as a dignified hunter for his old age. And that''s fine enough for me."


    Just then, they heard the sound of the bells ringing. "Time for breakfast," Yvette told him. "Do come with us, Theodore. I will not have you leave for your hunt on an empty stomach."


    Theodore sighed as he followed Yvette out of the courtyard and into the mess hall. The hall was wide enough to accommodate all of the students in the College, and high up on the ceiling was a giant map of the Known World.


    Fericire sat as the biggest continent in the west, followed by the northernmost continent of Irune on the east while its other half known as Unura, split from the mainland due to the Cataclysm, was broken into a vast archipelago in the Sapphire Sea.


    The Headmaster sat on a long table overlooking the rest of the hall separate from the students, and he was joined by his fellow alchemists. Sebastian, the commander of the army, was seated with them as well, his sword leaning against his chair.


    Theodore and Yvette took a seat next to the Headmaster, and they were promptly met with plates each filled with a pair of smoked sausages layered with spices, a cut of fresh bread slathered in butter, and a bowl of sliced cheese.


    "My friends, may I honor you with our guest Theodore, son of our old friend Henry Barclay," Headmaster Martin introduced him to the table.


    The alchemists began to look at each other in shock, and proceeded to give Theodore a group of hands to shake. Because he was already famished at the sight of the food, Theodore gave them each a quick shake and rushed to dine in on his meal.


    "Someone''s a little hungry," Sebastian noted.


    "That makes the both of us, Sebastian," Yvette replied, taking a bite of the sausage alongside Theodore as the rest of the table looked on awkwardly. "What brings you in the College at this hour?"


    "I''ve been looking for the two of you," Sebastian replied. "I mean to confide with you some new developments issued by the Cardinal regarding the city''s defense."


    "Great, let''s hear it then," Theodore swallowed his food in one gulp.


    Sebastian cleared his throat before he explained. "Effective immediately, the Cardinal ordered most of his troops stationed all over the Province to retreat to the capitol, leaving only a handful of rangers including myself to thwart the advance of the Shadow''s Claw by ourselves."


    The Headmaster dropped his spoon in shock. "That''s just outrageous! Why would Tremblay even think of sending back the garrison in the middle of a war? What was he thinking?!"


    "The Cardinal is getting paranoid, and it had something to do with what happened last night," Sebastian answered. "From what I''ve heard, he was nearly assassinated."


    The people around the table fell silent as the gravity of this news weighed heavily upon their hearts. Yvette nearly spat out her sip of water before she held it in with grace. Theodore quickly grasped the situation before taking another bite of the sausage nonchalantly.


    "How? And by whom?" Yvette asked.


    "An assassin infiltrated the Keep in the middle of the night," Sebastian told them. "This vagrant managed to sneak inside the Keep and into the Cardinal''s personal chambers without anyone noticing. Had it not been for Lady Fiona''s intervention, the assassin might''ve succeeded in slitting the Cardinal''s throat in his sleep."


    "Spare us the gory details for later, sir," Theodore retorted. "You''re ruining a plentiful breakfast here."


    "I''m... not going to question the irony there," Sebastian sighed, as his face grimaced in annoyance. "Anyhow, Lady Fiona managed to contain this assassin, but he killed himself with a failsafe poison lodged in his teeth before he could be questioned."


    Theodore nodded. "And this assassin? Did you or anyone from the Keep caught a glimpse of what he looked like?"


    "I never got a good look at that vagrant myself," Sebastian replied. "But from what I''ve heard, it was simply a butcher from the Lower District. The man looked so thin and pale you could see the bone in his limbs. And on his skin, they said it was covered with so many scars and bite marks."


    "Hmm, that''s the work of a vampire, alright." Theodore rubbed his chin. "And not just any vampire. This one is probably sent by Dorottya, considering the target."


    Yvette immediately slapped his hand. "Don''t speak of her name so callously! Remember what Lady Fiona said about maintaining secrecy?" She snapped at him.


    The Headmaster was simply listening in on the conversation before he expressed his thoughts. "But that''s preposterous. The high walls around the city are made of pure obsidian, and consecrated with holy magic.  A mere vampire can''t infiltrate the walls, more or less scale it due to its height."


    "Therein lies the beauty of ingenuity, lady and gents." Theodore smirked. "A marvelous mentality that hunters often share with their prey. No matter the odds laid out against them, there''s no obstacle a monster or a hunter can''t overcome when they push their very being against it.


    "See, if I were a vampire, I''d make use of anything or anyone to get inside the bloody city. A tool, a spell, or most likely, someone who''s been inside the city who''s forced to let them through under the threat of a slow death, or by hypnotizing them to do their bidding without compromise."


    "So you believe that this vampire has hidden themselves among the populace?" Sebastian guessed. "And has been using some of our citizens for their own gain?"


    Theodor nodded, to which Sebastian slumped back in his seat." Huh. No wonder the Cardinal is acting up as he is now."


    "And what happens now? What becomes of Theodore''s mission?" Yvette asked.


    "To start, the army will be keeping a close watch around the city, searching every house in each district for the real mastermind behind the assassination." Sebastian informed them. "You don''t need to worry yourselves about all that. The army is trained to handle vampires quickly, I''ve made sure of that."


    He then turned to Theodore. "As for you. Lady Fiona is pretty adamant about letting you proceed with your mission without any delay, but that won''t guarantee your safety against the Shadow''s Claw should they resurface again. That''s why she asked me earlier to accompany you when you ride out of the city later."


    "You''ll join us? That''s good news, indeed." Yvette was strangely optimistic. "Isn''t it, Theo?"


    "That depends," Theodore replied. "How long have you been fighting in the Cardinal''s army?"


    "Since I was ten, when I was drafted into the army," Sebastian answered. "Does that answer your question, Mister Barclay?"


    "I suppose," Theodore munched on the bread. "And how many vampires have you killed in that long amount of time?"


    "Three, for now. Vampires in the field are quite hard to come by, but rogue demi-beasts are much larger in scale and easier to pick off."


    "That''s good enough of a resume," Theodore sharply commented. "Where we''re going, there will be a lot more of them to deal with."


    "Good to know," Sebastian sipped on his cup. "I heard  from Yvette that you fought off Lycaon''s group like a wild demon in a rut. I''m curious to see that in action."


    "Who?" Theodore looked up, genuinely confused.


    Sebastian raised an eyebrow at his ignorance. "Finneas Rafe von Lycaon... He''s the armored demi-beast you encountered the other day in the forest."


    "Can''t recall." Theodore shook his head before his eyes widened. "Oh, I do now! Was he the big-looking runt in the armor?"


    "Yes..." Yvette sighed. "He''s the leader and the founder of the Shadow''s Claw. He built himself that hideous armor out of the steel from his enemies'' swords and carved out a spear from their spines. He is simply known to the general public as the Howling Doom, because..."


    "Because he howls, yes? That''s how he signals his commandos for an approaching attack. I caught on to their tactics during our first encounter," Theodore continued. "The next time we encounter them on the road should be a cake walk."


    "Don''t be so eager, my boy," the Headmaster butted in after being an observant in this conversation. "If there''s one thing that Lycaon is known for, is that he doesn''t take kindly towards humans. I''ve heard gruesome stories of how he treats prisoners from the villages he conquers. Needless to say, I suggest you proceed with caution. That man holds a grudge too well."


    Theodore nonchalantly plucks a slice of cheese from his bowl; his slaughter of his men that night must''ve landed him on the top spot of Lycaon''s list. "That sounds... perfect." He ate the slice the way a lion would gobble up a feeble mouse.


    Yvette and Sebastian gave each other uneasy looks over Theodore''s reaction. "You''re a peculiar man, Mister Barclay," Sebastian remarked. "Now, we best finish this meal quick. It''s getting colder by the minute."