Chapter 3: Gird Your Loins
With his eyes finally adjusted to the sudden daylight, he took in his surroundings and discovered towering giant red trees all around him.
[Those must be at least forty paces high!]
"It's almost dark," Celia said, alarm in her voice. She reached down and produced a giant pack that had been hidden behind a shrub. "Hurry!"
Without another word, she bounded over the three stone steps in front of them in one long step, the giant pack slung over her shoulder effortlessly, and immediately started running down a well worn path.
Cursing to himself, he sprinted after her.
"Where are we?!" he yelled.
"You can ask all the questions you want when we get to the Waypoint. Until then, RUN!" she practically screamed the last word.
He heard the fear in her voice and that was enough for him. Picking the pace up, he felt the sweat he'd built up during his last jog fling off him. It felt good to finally stretch his legs onto even--and visible!--ground.
But as hard as he tried to outrun her, she kept increasing her speed. As the sun slowly sank down the horizon for what John swore was for the second time that day, he realized that he was the slow one and she was holding herself back. He also realized that she was torn between leaving him in the dust or staying with him.
She's afraid.
[No...] he corrected himself. [She's terrified.]
Once again, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on ends but this time it felt like something was about to happen and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He leapt over a fallen log just as the top of the sun dropped down below the tree line. As if the false dusk was the signal, he heard a bone chilling howl.
Celia looked back and he saw the blood leave her face.
"RUN!" she screamed before turning and bolted.
John had been running as fast as he could, and he was by no means the slowest in his Battalion, but when Celia let loose, she let loose. In mere seconds she was out of sight. She'd made him look like he'd been walking with a gimp leg.
John's eyebrows were still invading his hairline when another howl pierced the failing light. His protesting legs received a sudden jolt of energy as pure terror gripped his chest.
[What the hell did I get myself into?] he thought in a panic.
The next howl that came was louder. Closer.
His heart started beating against his chest double time.
Off in the distance, he spotted Celia a hundred paces away waving at him, motioning him into what looked like a cave. John vaulted over another fallen tree, and his blood curled as something heavy crashed into a tree somewhere behind him.
Then came a low deep growl that he felt more with his body than heard with his ears.
Wide eyed, John felt every single one of those hundred paces as his heart thumped loudly in his ears. He didn't dare look back and, if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want to look back. Because as loud as his heart beated, it didn't drown out the sound of something massive closing in on him.
When he was only a handful of paces away, Celia screamed, "Dive!"
The thing behind him had closed the distanced frighteningly fast so he didn't hesitate in her command. Diving head first, he flew into the cave just as Celia pulled her hand away from the wall.
Something came crashing down on top his back as he slammed into the ground, sandwiching him painfully, before he rebounded off the floor. His body skipped across the floor twice more before he came to a teeth jarring stop when his body said hello to what he could only assume was the back wall of the cave. All light immediately went out as a door thundered against the floor with a deep boom and then, not a second later, something heavy slammed into the other side of the door, causing dust to rain down from the ceiling. Following the protests of the door came a bone rattling angry howl.
Dizzy, John was in the middle of shaking the stars from his eyes when he froze.
The stench of death and rotting flesh assaulted his nostrils like a battering ram. And then an impossibly deep growl filled the cavern like a thick suffocating blanket.
Slowly, painfully, blue light began to resonate from the walls and ceiling.
"Don't. Move," Celia whispered in warning.
[If she'd broken a sweat from her last run, she's doing a helluva job covering it up.]
It was a strange thought that came to him, considering, but he blamed his burning lungs and air deprived brain.
The room intensified as the promise of blood and violence seeped into the walls to the point of almost being tangible. Silhouettes slowly started to form in front of John's eyes--no thanks to the soft blue light--and he saw a large wall had formed up between him and Celia.
And then said wall shifted, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
Without warning the enormous shadow leapt at Celia. Faster than the eye could follow, the beast covered the distance instantly only to slam into something solid. As the beast bounced off her, Celia's shadow leapt forward, following the beast into the wall next to John. The earth shook beneath his boots as he scrambled to get out of their way. His foot slipped and he stumbled into the wall next to him, scraping his knee, before falling on his hip.
He tried to recover his footing but the loudest sound he'd ever experienced in his life assaulted his ears. Squeezing his eyes, John covered his ears and let out a groan as a vicious snarl resonated off the room's walls like an amphitheater.
John turned to look at Celia and saw the monster making a feeble swipe at her. She dodged the attack easily before slamming her sword back into it. Multiple howls from outside the cave vibrated through the walls of the cavern--or at least he thought he'd heard them, his hearing was numb from the earlier assault. But after Celia hit the beast for the sixth or seventh time, there was no mistaking the dying guttural sound that came from the beast.
As the last of its breath left its body, silence enveloped them to the point that only the sound of Celia panting could be heard.
"Blood and sand!" John gasped probably louder than he needed to. "What in the hell was that thing?!"
"THAT," Celia said between pants. "Is why you are here."
Trying to calm his thumping heart, he grabbed onto the wall next to him and lifted himself up. Leaning against the packed dirt wall, he felt light headed and realized he needed to breath more. Resting his arms against his knees he sucked in the rotting air.
He hadn't ran like that in years.
As his eyes began to acclimate to the eerie blue light, he started to pick out details of the beast before him. It was nearly the size of a horse--that hadn't been his imagination--but it was more wolf like in it's muscle and bone structure. Yet, unlike a wolf, it was hairless with the exception of a long black mane that ran from the top of it's head to about halfway down its back. Curiosity getting the better of him, John stepped forward and touched it's skin. His fingers felt all muscle. Not a shred of fat laid beneath it's taut dark skin.
Feeling his heart rate lowering, he walked around the beast to get a better look. Two red lifeless eyes and an upturned nose looked back at him. It was… almost bat like, except it had twisted horns for ears and its large mouth was filled to the brim with canine teeth.
John immediately covered his nose and mouth when the stench of the beast hit him like a slap to the face.
"Don't you dare puke," Celia warned.
He begrudgingly obeyed and swallowed the bile that had threatened to come up.
"I…" John rubbed his head. He felt the making of a massive headache coming on. "I need to sit down."
He blindly reached back towards the wall but instead of feeling solid earth, his hand fell into a hole making him stumble. With his eyes fully adjusted, he turned to find a cutout in the wall, and his fingers sunk into soft moss. Looking along the wall, he saw more of the cutouts.
[Beds?]
Turning, he surveyed the room and found it was a bit more spacious than he'd originally thought. The room doglegged left, and at the very end of the room he spied a sizable table with a few chairs. Making a beeline for one of the chairs, he plopped himself down and winced at the sounds of protests from the old rickety wood but thankfully it held his weight. Rubbing his temples, he motioned to Celia.
"OK, let's start with the basics. Where are we?"
She bent down to wipe her bloodied blade against the beast's skin.
"We are in Kalian, about three thousand miles west of where we were in Ce'l."
[Well that explains why the sun set a second time.]
While he didn't know what "miles" were, he knew the word Kalian. Secretly he was relieved. His imagination had gone rampant when he saw the giant redwood trees and thought they'd stepped into another world. Although, "another world" wasn't that far off the mark if they were in Kalian.
"How did we get here?"
She stood and made a flourish with her sword, sending the rest of the dark blood to the ground.
"We'd taken a portal," she said simply, as if that explained everything.
John felt a spark of annoyance. Something told him she wasn't going to be offering any more details outside of the bare minimum.
[If I'm going to get back to the Empire any time soon she's going to have to--]
John's thoughts stumbled as he watched her sword slowly shrink to the size of a dagger.
Blinking, he shook his head.
[Come on John, focus. You have questions, she has answers. Think. What's eating at you?]
"How do you know people in the Empire?" John asked, marshaling his thoughts together.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Next question."
He glared at her as she walked toward him.
"I thought you said I could ask any question," he said.
"I didn't say I'd answer them," she said taking a seat next to him.
[Smartass] he thought, before he had another idea.
"Whoa," he said, genuinely surprised. "The Royal Houses have spies outside of the Empire?"
Her head jerked up and that was all he needed for confirmation.
"You're a quick one."
She didn't say it as a compliment, more like a cautious realization.
[She really doesn't like me.]
Ignoring the comment, he said, "You said that thing is the reason why I'm here. What did you mean by that?"
She glared at him as if he'd said something wrong.
John raised an expectant eyebrow.
When she didn't say anything, the little amount of patience he'd pulled together evaporated.
He leveled his infamous glare at her, the one that had put more than a few nuggets into their place.
"You think I want to be here?" he exasperated. "This is the last place I want to be. But you know what? I'm dealing with it. And so should you. You're under orders, same as me. Now stop being petulant, pull that stick out of your ass and tell me what I need to know. As much as it pains me to say this, my life is in your hands. So the least you could do is give me the common courtesy of a little trust."
This time it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.
When he held her gaze with his glare, she finally sighed in defeat, "Fine."
She pointed at the beast with her chin.
"That," she said. "Is called a Hellhound. Towards the end of the War of the Thrones, they started appearing all over the North. From what we've been able to gather, they'd came from the Wastelands. At first, they kept away from people and the cities but then people started disappearing. Anyone who stayed outside after the sun went down wouldn't be found the next day. Many of the rulers started hunting parties, but those that found the Hounds didn't return. Over the span of a year, the Hellhounds slowly escalated their attacks, getting bolder, until entire villages were found slaughtered overnight. That was when the mages got involved.
"And they learned pretty early on what we were facing." She said, shaking her head sadly, her gaze still on the dead Hellhound. "It's skin is tougher than hardened leather which makes it extremely difficult to kill with normal weapons. Not only that, but it's stronger than ten men and faster than a snake's strike. To make matters worse, it only kills humans and it does so out of pleasure not out of necessity. They don't have a heartbeat so we're pretty sure they aren't alive in the traditional sense--so it doesn't need to eat or drink. They are efficient killing machines and dangerously smart. The only thing they seem to be afraid of is sunlight but even that, most people believe they're just nocturnal predators."
The Hellhound suddenly started to melt back into the ground.
John took a step back in alarm while Celia's waved at it casually with one hand holding her nose. "Their bodies decompose quickly after they are killed, yet another annoying thing about them."
Kicking the head that looked like it was being boiled from the inside, she gave a loud sigh.
"Realizing all of this, the mages had to do something drastic. So they started experimenting on volunteer soldiers. The idea was to make a better soldier. The product of their experimentation were Slayers. Us."
Celia pointedly motioned to both of them.
"Us?" he said, feeling the pit of his stomach give out.
She nodded. "We have been, in every sense of the word, enhanced. Everything from seeing in the dark to running faster… among other things."
Relief filled him.
"Hate to disappoint you, but I can do neither of those," John said with a smile.
She gave him a half smile of her own, something that had the opposite effect on him. "Not yet. You're going to be a late bloomer but your Awakening will start here soon."
John frowned. "How do you know this? Is it hereditary?"
A small part of him, a part of him he'd long since locked up in a mental steel box, yearned for hope.
"It is passed down by the father," she said with a nod, completely oblivious to the sudden elation he felt. "But not us."
"Oh," he said, feeling deflated. It would have been a comically small world if she had somehow known his parents. Privately he kicked himself for being so easily hopeful, but he knew that was a sore subject that would never go away. He couldn't help it. He'd never known his parents and it wasn't for lack of trying.
Her words finally sunk in.
"Wait, why?"
"Have you met any mages lately?"
The mage's words came to him right then: 'Your mission will require you to be something you're not. This will help.'
John closed his eyes and groaned.
"Yeah, it's a perk of serving the House of Ce'l," she said with a genuine smile. "Some decisions are made for you, even those that have a 10% survival rate."
John's eyes snapped open. "What?"
She shrugged. "It's the reason why the mages stopped making Slayers. The moment the Slayers started pushing back the Hellhounds, they banned the making of Slayers. Welcome to the 10% club."
Celia had misunderstood his comment but he didn't correct her. He actually didn't mind the high fatality rate. If he'd been given the choice, he'd probably have done it anyways. The simple fact was that between the bandits, cannibal tribesmen, raiders, and the occasional hot headed blueblood out to prove himself, he was pretty sure he was already in the 10% club. The Empire was a hard life, but he didn't complain. He knew he was far more fortunate than other people with his background and he was thankful for the opportunity the Empire had given him. It was the reason why he stayed in the Legion after his five years were up.
It had been the first thing she'd said that had given him pause.
She's an agent to not just any House but THE House.
He stored that bit of information right next to General Briar. General Briar was from the House of Ta'lee, so he'd assumed his powerful connection was another Ta'lee. He wasn't aware that the General had any friends or allegiances to anyone in the House of Ce'l. The bluebloods had a tendency of sticking with only people in their own Houses. It was rare to hear of favors being given outside of a House. John supposed it had to do with the stubborn self-sufficiency that had been drilled into the citizens of the Empire and the "blood is thicker than water" mentality. There was only one person anyone in the Empire would do anything for, and that was the Empress herself. And while the Empress was technically from the House of Ce'l, she'd given up all allegiances to her House once she came into power. She served the people, her new family, and the people served her. She was bound to no House.
"But I digress," Celia said, leaning back into her chair and pulling John's thoughts back to the conversation at hand. "Fast forward about a thousand years, give or take a century, and here we are. The nations have all learned how to defend themselves against the Hellhounds by using heavily fortified walls, manned throughout the night. Meanwhile Slayers try and curb their population but we never seem to fully exterminate them, no matter how many we slay. No one has ever been able to capture a Hellhound alive nor have we been able to follow them back to where they hide during the day. We've learned very little but we're at least surviving. All three nations have set up trading routes between their cities, using fortified outposts spread out by a day's ride so trade is still there, but it's nowhere near what it had once been. Only Slayers have access to these Waypoints which are sprinkled throughout the North as hideaways," she waved to the cavern around them. "Like portals, they require energy to open and close the gates, something you'll learn more about later in Tekal."
She made a face that John couldn't fully interpret. Something between annoyance and admiration. "Tekal... Tekal is the city that all the Slayers have come to call home. It's where the mages watch over their creations and it is the central authority on hunting Hounds. Every nation pays a tax into Tekal to keep it funded, but the Slayers' numbers haven't been what they use to be. We can live a very long time, and it's extremely hard to kill us, but…"
She looked back at the dead Hound with an emotionless mask. "Like I'd said, they are smart bastards."
John looked at the beast as well.
He'd seen the look in her eyes before. He'd seen it himself more than once in a mirror. While she might be a spy for Ce'l, she was at war with the Hellhounds and he was intimately familiar with war.
"So what does all of this have to do with me?" he asked quietly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Celia's face sour.
"I received word from the House's spymaster that they want to know why the Hounds haven't ever made it South into Ce'l. That's where you come in."
John frowned. "Isn't that something you'd be better equipped to investigate?"
"No, I have other things I must do," she said with great reserve. "And I can't do everything."
The look she gave him said otherwise and John got the sinking feeling the spymaster had told her those exact words.
"So... what? I'm supposed to be a Ce'l deserter who just happens to gain Slayer powers?" John scoffed.
"No," she said in a measured voice. "You're suppose to pass off as a Private in the Kalian Red Guard who recently became Awaken with Slayer powers."
John sat back into his chair.
"Oh…. OH."
[Well that explains her love for me.]
She saw the understanding in his eyes. "Now you see. The only way this works is if I introduce you. Which means my neck is on the line. If you can't pass off as a Kalian, we're both dead."
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datarhythm
datarhythm As mentioned before, I plan on posting 1 new chapter a week. If you can't wait until Friday for the next chapter, I have 9 more in queue for release as of right now for those that sponsoring me on *******. I plan on having 22 chapters in Book 1. And yes, sorry, I'll be sticking to my 1 chapter a week due to the amount of time it takes me to write/edit a chapter. If by chance I produce more than 1 a week, there will be a bonus chapter that week.
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