Spending the night in the thick of the Wilds, was perhaps one of the most foolish things, Nathaniel had ever done. Nothing came close to that, not even his trip to the Archipelago of Crows could measure up to this fine idea. However, it wasn’t exactly his choice. Refusing a Witch Hunter was a hard thing to do.

Oddly enough, this was but one of his problems. The aforementioned Hunter being the first in an uncomfortably long list. Next was Helen, who of all things was a witch. If Nathaniel had to be honest, the young woman had fooled him and Paul quite expertly. And speaking of his friend, he too took one of the top spots. It was as if the Ranger was a magnet for trouble.

Ever since, Nathaniel had met the dashing young fellow, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, in Jason’s Crater it was one mess after the other. It was a surprise neither of them had a bounty on their heads. But that came with a price. For the last two years, they had not stopped moving from town to town. Never finding a place to fit into, a place to call home.

It made a lot of sense if he had to be objective. Since he was six, Nathaniel had been aboard one ship or another. He had learned to fight on the Wave Cutter when he was eight. He killed his first man on the deck of the Third Eye a year later, when it was attacked by pirates. By the time he was thirteen, Nathaniel had sailed with six other vessels and had amassed quite the impressive kill count. Every life taken, marked as a line on his left forearm in dark green ink, as naval tradition dictated.

And when he turned sixteen, he was one of the most sought after guards a boat could hire. However, that was not what he wanted. Life on the open sea, for the most part, was dull and boring. Nothing to do but watch your skin blister under the harsh sun or hope you didn’t sink during a storm. That’s why the day the Jackal’s Smile docked at the town of Golden Rock, Nathaniel picked up his trusted falchion and chainmail shirt and lost himself in the crowd.

Which in hindsight, might have been his biggest mistake. But what other choice did he have? When he saw the God-slayer, he knew he wanted to become someone the people could rely on. Someone who could protect them and not like the Dusk Brigades or the Rangers did…

“So, what do you think?” Paul’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts.

“About what?” Nathaniel sighed, knowing that whatever his friend was thinking was probably a bad idea.

“You’re not even listening to me.” The young tracker made a show of looking crestfallen. “I’m saying, she’s been gone for quite some time now.”

“Who?” Nathaniel was having a hard time figuring out where this conversation was going.

“The Which Hunter!” Paul exclaimed, without raising his voice. “Who do you think I was talking about? I mean, that thing has been sleeping over there and sobbing for the last hour.”

Nathaniel couldn’t blame him for how he addressed Helen. Few monsters could rival witches in their hatred and malevolence towards people. Worst of all, they could blend in civilised society while they preyed on the week and drained the blood of the innocent. The stories about destroyed towns or those taken over by witches’ covenants were far too many, with a new one emerging every year. Despite that, all Nathaniel could see was a young woman forced to suffer through indignity.

“So, what of it?” He looked at the animated Paul.

“Mate, have you been sleeping with your eyes open again?” The Ranger finally sat next to him, his hand never straying far from the gladius at his hip. “I’m just saying. The Witch Hunter has been gone for almost three hours now.”

“And you think it’s a good idea to go and look for her.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “In the bog. In the dark. Away from the fire. Alone.”

“Look, I’m just saying, a woman…”

“Let me stop you right there, Paul,” He pushed one of the branches deeper into the fire and looked his friend in the eyes. “I didn’t say a word when you had your fun with the innkeeper’s wife back in Mont Friesch…”

“Right, the feisty red-head, I forgot about her.”

“I’m not done,” Nathaniel fixed him with a stare. “I kept quiet when you showed the local sights to Liliana, while we were staying at Hayden’s Gorge.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Paul, she was the daughter of the mayor of Hayden’s Gorge.” He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “I think, she knew the local sights better than you. As did her father. That’s why he run us out of town.”

“Hey! She knew very well what to do and how to do it.” The light of the fire only highlighted the crimson that had spread on Paul’s cheeks.

“And did Lady Elyria know what to do?” Nathaniel placed his hand over his companion’s shoulder to keep him from running away.

“Ok. That one might have been a mistake…”

“A mistake…” He couldn’t believe the excuse. “Mate, it was her wedding night. Not only did I keep my mouth shut, but I also saved you from Lord Balthazar.”

“Keep your mouth shut?’ Paul rolled his eyes. “Nate, you chewed my head off during the entire trip to Olsten.”

“Look, I am your friend,” Nathaniel let go of the Ranger and returned his attention to the fire. “I’ll always watch your back. But if you try to get into the Witch Hunter’s pants, I am not saving your ass.”

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the crackling wood. In a way, he couldn’t blame the young tracker. After all, Witch Hunters were attractive women, in peak shape. There wasn’t a man alive who did not find them attractive, even the ones whose faces bore the scars of the beasts they had killed. Come to think of it, Nathaniel had never seen an old Witch Hunter, nor had he heard stories of one.

“Do you think they’re human?” Paul spoke quietly next to him. “You saw what she did to that beast earlier. You hear the tales in the pubs and at the markets, but the real thing…”

“True. I knew there was a gap between us and them,” Nathaniel sighed. “I never imagined it would be this big.”

“Tell me about it. No human can wield a great sward like that.”

“I…” He had no idea what to say.

It was a good question. No one knew how ordinary women transformed into such skilled and fierce fighters. To be capable to face the monsters of the Wilds and to prevail was not something normal people could do. Perhaps the rumours were true and the Witch Hunters had made a pact with the spirits. There was only one problem with this theory. These days it was always either spirits or witches. My neighbour’s wife is pregnant again, she must have made a deal with a witch. Or my neighbour’s crops are growing better than my own, he must have made a pact with a spirit.

Talk like that made it impossible to find the slightest grain of truth. There was no point to it but to put another layer of mystery around the Witch Hunters. Sometimes Nathaniel wondered if such rumours were spread on purpose. Which begged the question if the secretive defenders of humanity had something to hide.

“I think they are or at least they were, before turning into one.” He answered Paul, who looked at him like a little puppy.

“All jokes aside, Irene has been gone for quite a long time.” The Ranger’s face hardened and the child-like naivety was gone from his eyes.

“Lady Navina can take care of herself,” Nathaniel put just enough sturdiness in his tone to express his displeasure with the familiarity shown by his friend.

“Mate, it’s been two years now,” Paul shrugged. “No one this side of the Calm Sea addresses Witch Hunters as Lady. That honour is reserved for the God-slayer alone.

Human settlements and towns covered most of the two of the three known continents. Well perhaps there were thriving colonies on the third as well, but the trip through the Endless Sea took well over five years. Yet, no matter where one went the language, rituals and believes were always the same. It was minor differences, such as the one Paul had pointed out, were the only way to recognise where one hailed from.

“Look at you,” the Ranger continued without breaking his stride. “The bronze of your skin has faded and you no longer have those ridiculous locks. But you still talk like one of them snobs from the far west.”

It was true. Nathaniel had changed, not that it mattered. There was little to connect him to that land. It was nothing compared to this gloomy place. Mists every morning, rain and storms twice a week, all were things he could cope with. Unlike the changing of the seasons. Summer and winter were gone before he knew it. Only autumn had a firm grasp, lasting through most of the year.

He had had enough of it, as did Paul. The lands of the Highguard Combine had lost their lustre. That was why the two of them wanted to reach Esthergrad. It was there the caravans gathered and if they were in luck, they could find a spot in one going south-east, towards the colonies beyond the Stone Forest.

“Speaking properly is not something to be mocked,” Nathaniel scoffed

“You know, you are just like one of them skirts when someone criticises you.”. The young tracker laughed. “But I am being serious. Do you think we should go and look for her?”

“So was I, Paul.” He turned to look at him. “This is not like the woods in the town’s limits. This is the Wilds. Who knows what is out there in the dark.”

Helen’s sudden blood-chilling scream cut their conversation short. Nathaniel picked the falchion resting at his foot and jumped. A heartbeat later he saw Paul next to him, the gladius held firmly in his grip. It wasn’t the preferred weapon for the Ranger, but he wasn’t bad with it either. Keeping the fire behind their backs they scanned their surroundings for any threat, no matter how big or small.

“What did you see?” Nathaniel barked and the wide-eyed witch.

“Eyes… There were eyes in the shadows…” Helen squeaked, scurrying closer to the fire.

“Damn you, woman! I almost pissed myself!” Paul roared. “We are in the bloody Wilds, of course there are eyes in the shadows!”

“She saw me spy on them.” The voice whispered in her head.

“What did you expect?” Irene shrugged, hidden in the crown of the tree.

Her prey was nearing and she had only one chance to ambush it. It had already been long enough and she was in no mood to chase after it. Despite its large size, the Erebus lizard was surprisingly fast. The last thing she wanted was distractions.

“She saw me while sleeping.” The voice persisted.

“I told you.” The Witch Hunter shook her head as if that would make her constant companion keep quiet. “But you had to make sure.”

“The blonde one, he desires to bed you.” Irene nearly lost her footing on the branch. “It might be most prudent to let him rot in this stale place.”

“I never took you for the jealous type,” she smiled. “Afraid you won’t be the only one inside me?”

“Please, do not misinterpret my motivation” This time the voice sounded hurt. “I am stating a logical conclusion. If that person is foolish enough to seriously entertain such thoughts, then he’s life is worthless.”

“That’s harsh,” Irene adjusted her position while trying to follow the logic of her companion. “You’ve never reacted like that with the others who desired me.”

“It is true.” There was a new emotion in the voice, one she had not heard before. “However, that man is dangerous. You will get attached to him, the longer he shares your path. His soul has been touched by a spirit, a blessing, perhaps. A curse if you ask me.”

“Are you saying, I did not meet them by chance?” Irene’s undivided attention was focused on every poisonous word the voice spoke. “Has the other side finally taken note of me?”

“Do not overestimate your worth, dear.” The voice inside her head chuckled. “Those prancing fools do not possess the foresight and gal for such actions.”

She stood immobile, her mind racing to find anything the voice was hiding. Every word had to be carefully examined. Why was it used? How did it change in meaning when used with the one after and the one before it? To trust its words blindly was the same as welcoming disaster.

“If you wait any longer your prey will escape.” The voice laughed.

There it was – the catch. It was toying with her, forcing her to make a mistake. Irene’s eyes darted towards the ground and confirmed it. If she had pushed off the branch, she would have missed the damned reptile. She shifted her stance and leapt. The blade of her great sword bit deep into the muscled flesh of the Erebus, cutting its body in two.

The beast was as large as her and even a half it was more food than she and the three children could eat. Irene watched the part with its head dart into the overgrowth, leaving behind a trail of white ichor. If it could survive the next few days, the lizard would regenerate and recover. The Wilds, however, were not a kind place and the Witch Hunter was willing to bet that it would be dead before the night was over.

More importantly, Irene had to decide what to do with the part that was left behind. It was too large to carry back to the camp and there were four mouths to feed. She examined her catch, debating how to butcher it while pondering over her companion’s words.

“You did not speak just to ruin my hunt,” Irene narrowed her eyes, feeling the thing coiling like a serpent around her heart. “Why then?”

“Never the trusting one, are you?” Its laughter was forced, she could tell.

“I’ve had enough of your games. Now answer my question, before I force you.”

“The taste of your cruelty is the sweetest nectar.” Irene’s mouth watered when her companion’s feelings sipped into her. “It was not I that disturbed the witch’s slumber. There was another lurking in the shadows.”

“Who?” Irene’s head snapped in the direction where she had left the two young men and the harlot. “One of your kind?”

“I am not sure. They escaped before I could cage them.”

“Go back there and keep watch. I will return shortly. And this time, nothing gets past you.” Irene felt blood slide down her arm and be consumed before reaching her fingers. Commanding it like that, always came with a price.

A moment later she felt the thing depart, leaving an emptiness inside her soul. She could recall it at any time but was not needed. Whoever was spying, was not after her. Which made her encounter with the three teens all that more interesting. First, the black-haired boy had surprised her by having an Ilwgwaed coin. Then she learns the blonde one is connected to a spirit in some way. And now, someone else is spying on the dirty little witch. For the first time in a long while, Irene was willing to admit that she was not the centre of these events.

“Most glorious one, it has returned.” The snake made of light sang and the grove exploded in a chorus repeating the last over and over again.

Soon the cacophony stopped and life itself waited with bated breath for the being at the centre to stir. What part of it was not submerged into the reflective waters in slumbered in, resembled a human. It was neither a man, not a woman, yet was both at the same time. Its skin was captured moonlight and its long hair red as the setting sun. It was the embodiment of perfection.

Ever so slowly the being moved. The blanket of dark green moss that had covered it, providing comfort and warmth, dissolved into foam now that the reason for its existence was gone. The figure stretched its delicate arms and looked with closed eyes at the snake of light.

“My dearest, how I have missed your song,” the being smiled, its soothing voice resonating all across the grove. “Please, usher it forth. It has been kept away from my touch for far too long.”

“It shall be done, most glorious one.” The snake curled and bit its tail.

In the circle it had formed, reality lost its substance and faded away leaving a hole to nowhere and everywhere in its place. From it, a small creature resembling a sparrow with four wings emerged. Its feathers turned from grey to violet and gold when it landed on the being’s outstretched finger.

“Welcome home, my brave little observer.” The image of perfection gently stroked the bird’s head and smiled. “There is no rush. Gather your strength first, then you can tell me all.”

“I am most sorry for disturbing your slumber, most glorious one.” The bird’s song was like the whistling wind. Urged by a warm smile it continued. “I have found it! I have found the Conduit. She is with the one who bears Ludwig’s mark. However, there was something dreadful stalking her as well.”

“This is marvellous news!” The being exclamation gave birth to new life in the still grove. “The long dispute will finally come to an end! Does the occupant of the Crystal Thorne know of this?”

“No, most blessed one.” The bird sang and lowered its head. “Shall I inform master Ludwig?”

“Not yet, my lovely child. Not yet. Let us make sure the Conduit is safe in our arms first. Then I can present Ludwig with this precious gift.”

“Most cruel one, it has returned.” The snake made of shadows hissed and the endless fires engulfing the cavern roared back to life.

Soon the rocks melted into burning sludge, searing all they touched. Each droplet was a testament of suffering to the creature tormented by eternal nightmares at the cavern’s centre. Thick chains kept its powerful legs and arms bound to the floor and walls. Neither a man, not a woman, yet both at the same time. A grotesque parody of the human form, stitched from malevolence and hatred. What remained of its flesh was decaying over bleached bones. A crown of horns decorated its head and wings of ash covered its back.

With violent motions, it pulled on its bindings and primal roar issued from its throat. Tears of dark blooded streamed from the craters of its eyes as fire engulfed its body. They inflicted welcomed torment on its tortured body. Their painful kiss kept away from the monster for far too long. Another show of strength and the chains broke like glass.

“How dare you disturb me worm!” The monster roared, its bestial voice turning the surrounding rocks into dust. “Bring forth the pest, so that it can feel my displeasure.”

“Without delay, most cruel one.” The snake coiled and consumed its tail.

In the circle it had formed, reality lost its substance and faded away leaving a hole to nowhere and everywhere in its place. From it, a small creature, resembling a skinned rat with its lower body replaced by that of a spider, emerged. Its flesh boiled and blistered from the heat surrounding it.

“Give me a good reason not to share my nightmares with you, pest!” The monster almost crushed the thing, grabbing with a mighty fist.

“I am most sorry for disturbing your slumber, most cruel one!” The creature’s laboured words were chisel sliding on rock. “I beg you to spare me, for I found the Conduit. She is with the one who bears Ludwig’s mark. However, there was something dreadful lurking in the shadows with me. Had I not rushed to you; it would have consumed me...”

“Worthless coward!” The being exclamation formed bottomless crags on the cavern floor and erased the pitiful creature in its grasp from existence. “The bloodletting will start anew as fresh fuel is added to the fires of the long war! Do the others know of this?”

“No, most cruel one.” The snake of shadow hissed.

“Good! With the Conduit in my hands, I shall be the one to sit on the Jagged Throne.”