THE HUNTED HUNTER

CHAPTER 4: LIES OF THE ORDER

Kael stared at the sitting vampire, his grip tightening around the hilt of his god-blade as he made to deliver the killing strike. Eldrin looked up at him, his eyes etched with pain and frustration as blood dripped down his lips. His hands clutched his sides as he began pleading with him.

“Wait…” Eldrin coughed, wheezing as he lifted his hands towards Kael. "There's something you don't know…"

Kael's face squeezed into a small frown as he noticed a sigil burned into the vampire's palm, glowing. “What? What are you–”

Before he could finish his words, a bright light poured out of Eldrin's palm, blinding him. Kael stumbled backwards, dropping his blade as he began rubbing his eyes. They burned badly.

‘You vile beast,’ he growled as he regained his composure. ‘I'm going to freaking–’ He stopped speaking as it suddenly dawned on him that his words weren't flowing from his lips, but through his mind.

Kael glanced around as the grass beneath him suddenly began to shimmer and shift. In the blink of an eye, the trees changed, morphing into burning foliage and ash stained trunks.

‘Where the hell am I?’ Kael asked, his voice echoing through the halls of his thoughts. ‘Where is this place? Where is my god-blade?’

A loud roar suddenly came from behind Kael, causing him to turn sharply. Behind him were five beings, all sitting on horses cladded with armor, and behind them were troops of armies.

Sitting on one of the horses was Maltheon, one of the Grandmasters of the Order of the Red Hand, his hands outstretched forward and a large grin on his face. Kael could tell the other four beings were the remaining four Grandmasters.

Following Maltheon’s gaze, Kael found groups of creatures-Werewolves, Faes, Vampires, Elves and humans-running away from them.

A wave of arrows, their tips lit in flames, shot out from behind him, bringing the creatures to the ground as Maltheon and the four other Grandmasters laughed loudly.

Suddenly, a voice from nowhere, one he didn't recognize but felt a connection to, spoke:

“YOU NEVER KILLED THE CURSED."

The bright flash came again,causing Kael to grunt and cover his eyes. When he opened them back open, he found himself before the bleeding veil, the very seal that protected the world from evil. Large cracks ran across the body like a wound and black magic pulsed beneath the crevices, waiting… watching.

Kael turned and found the five Grandmasters, standing in front of the seal. Their eyes had turned as black as they stretched their hands to the side. It was as though they… were feeding from the seal.

And then, darkness enveloped his vision.

Kael let out a loud gasp, stumbling backwards as he found himself back in reality. The trees were back to normal and the sky wasn't crimson red, though Kael could still faintly see the demons trying to break through the barrier the bleeding veil held.

“You've seen… the truth,” Eldrin muttered under his breath as he brought his hands down. "We… we were never the Cursed. The Order… they want to wipe out everyone who isn't cursed, anyone who poses a threat to them first.”

Kael’s chest rose and fell as his gaze traveled to his god-blade which was surprisingly still in his hands. He couldn't tell why he was standing, listening to what Eldrin was saying. He had a mission to fulfill…

“Kill me if you must,” Eldrin said softly, eyes locking with Kael’s. “I’ve done my part. The truth is yours now. What you do with it… is up to you.”

Kael dropped to his knees as his grip on the god-blade tightened, his hold trembling. He stared at his reflection on the blade as beads of sweat dropped down his forehead.

Kael couldn't tell if the spell Eldrin had casted on him was to change his conviction or if it really did show him the truth. The vision seemed too… real, as though it really had happened, but yet, the burning will to carry out the Order's command seared his heart.

Groaning, Kael took in a deep breath, steadying his hold on his god-blade as it hummed. He turned to the creatures huddled by the edge of the clearing, their eyes filled with fear. Slowly, he turned from them to face Eldrin.

“Eldrin," he called as he placed his sword in the ground and lifted himself up. “I will spare you and your people."

"You… you will?” Eldrin asked, smiling. "We can–"

“Yes," Kael answered curtly as he sheathed his blade and turned. He began walking down but stopped before looking at Eldrin from over his shoulder. “My sparing you doesn't mean you're free from death, Eldrin. If I learn you’ve lied... I’ll return. And I won’t come with questions.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kael turned and walked away, disappearing down the hill. Eldrin closed his eyes, releasing his pent up breath with a loud sigh.

“Thank the goddess," he muttered as he groaned softly. “Thank the goddess…”

________________________________________

Grunting softly, Kael dropped down from his horse, tying its reins to the bars of the gate. His boots echoed off the stone as he walked past the front guards. He stopped in front of the Citadel of the Order and looked up, staring at the towering pillars. Memories from the first time he was brought here flooded his thoughts and he shook his head. He had to report.

Kael's return from a mission, specifically one dealing with the Cursed, was always met with nods of gratitude and even cheers from the young recruits of the Order. But today, everywhere was silent and the hallways were empty, void of anyone.

Knights glanced over at him as he strode past, but once he turned to them, they'd revert their gazes, as though meeting eyes would invite danger. Kael frowned, a sense of discomfort creeping up his spine.

Something was wrong.

He found Sir Hadran near the barracks—his former trainer and one of the few people Kael trusted.

"I must speak to the Grandmasters," Kael stated bluntly as he walked up to him.

Hadran looked him over for a long moment before shaking his head. "Now is not the time, Draven," he said calmly as he walked towards a weapon rack.

"I desire some answers, Hadran.," Kael said as he sidestepped, blocking Hadran’s path. “Something happened out there during my fight with a Cursed… something that makes no sense."

"Then forget it," the old knight commanded gruffly, his voice dropping as he grabbed Kael by the scruff of his shirt. "Whatever it was you did, bury it. You did your duty and that should be enough."

Kael grabbed Hadran's hands, pulling it away. "Why are people still staring at me as if I am a Cursed?” he asked, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "Tell me Hadran, what's going on?"

Hadran stared at him for some seconds before grunting. Pulling his hands off Kael's hold, he turned his back on him and walked away.

“Dammit," Kael mumbled under his breath.

The rest of the day, Kael could not sit still. The urge to know the truth ate at him and he decided to find out one way or the other.

Kael invaded the libraries and Archives in his search for answers but whenever he asked the scribes about the Bleeding Veil or the Grandmasters’ history, they shut their books and walked away. This only aggravated his need to know more.

By dusk, Kael stood alone on the edge of the outer courtyard, staring at the first Grandmasters statue, a human-Tharick Daegen. His god-blade rested upon his leg, humming softly as his thoughts began to travel.

Suddenly, he sighted a boy messenger walking up to him. Without speaking, the boy thrusted a folded paper into his palm before running off. Confused, Kael unfolded the letter.

It was short-Grandmaster Maltheon awaited him.