Heinrich smiled as he watched outside the window, looking at the sunny sky and the flowers on the grassy fields. He was one among the many passengers of the steam locomotive moving through the countryside of Bremman, the sixth planet of Helian planetary system (and one of the only four inhabited planets out of the system’s twelve). It was a massive hulk of sooty iron, cluttered with snarls of piping and valves. It pounded the ground and one could hear its fierce hiss. The smoke of its chimney clouded part of the sky, contrasting with the bright rays of the sun.

Heinrich was in his mid-forties. He had brown hair which was combed, blue eyes and was cleanly shaven. He was wearing a uniform which consisted of a double-breasted tunic with a round collar and matching trousers, a pair of black boots, a belt and a command cap. He was both a lieutenant in the military and a Commissar of the Unity Party, the ruling party of the Helian Realm.

One would have thought that spaceships would make trains obsolete. This was indeed true for major urban centers that had the infrastructure to support large airports and space docks. Yet small villages in the countryside like the one that Heinrich was currently visiting did not have the infrastructure necessary for such means of transportation. Heinrich let out a long sigh. He had missed the green of the countryside; the fresh air, the trees and bushes, the chirping birds. City life with the huge crowds massing on the streets and moving together like ants among grey concrete buildings could not compare to the beauty and simplicity of the countryside.

“At last…” he whispered. “Some peace of mind.”

The Unity Party propagated such agricultural communities as the ideal model for the nation; pure, hardworking peasants toiling the land and living a good, honest life. They contrasted this image with the vices and degeneracies inherent in cities. Yet most of the party cadre preferred to reside in the large metropolises instead of living the hard, toiling life of the countryside.

Heinrich wasn’t traveling though to this remote place to holiday but rather he was on official business. He was to oversee one of the local tournaments that were annually held at every village and city of the realm. Most of the time those tournaments were overseen by local officials only but from time to time the party would send out some Commissar to oversee the process.The tournaments determined which men and women could join the Helian military. It was a test of their martial prowess.

Bremman was a great breeding ground for soldiers. Bremman, despite in many ways being similar to the human home planet of Mellillon, had greater size, mass and density, resulting in a slightly higher gravity of 1.15 g. This meant that humans born and raised on this world had developed stronger hearts and lungs and slightly thicker bones. While by no means granting them superhuman strength, this resulted in humans in Bremman being more physically fit than the average human in other environments. This made them ideal candidates for the physically arduous task of being a soldier.

The train stopped at the station of Winsorsmith. Heinrich got up from his seat and walked out of the train onto the station. There waiting for him was the local mayor, a short mustached middle-aged man, and four tall, muscled men, the mayor’s bodyguards.

“Greetings Commissar!” the mayor said. He raised his hand and saluted. “Hail Chancellor Maximilian, Lord-Protector of the Nation.”

Heinrich too saluted and hailed the grand leader. “Mayor Smith, I presume?”

“Indeed, sir. Please, let me grant you a banquet at my villa before going together at the arena.”

“I would love to. I am most hungry.” Heinrich wasn’t lying. He had barely eaten anything all morning, and his stomach was growling.

“I have roasted beef and rice, fried chicken and a tone salad. I am sure you will appreciate our cuisine.”

“I sure hope I do…”

On the side of a dirt road, John bent his knees. He put his fingertip on the back of his ears while his elbows were bent. He then lifted his torso, trying to lift as close to his thigh as possible. He did more than a few sit up exercises. John was only twenty years old. He was tall, slim, with blue eyes, an aquiline nose, short black hair, short beard with thin, neatly trimmed sides and a delicate and most beautiful face.

He was taking part in the local tournament. Organized annually, it was a chance for young men and women who had shown potential in their school fighting championship to be selected for soldiers of the state. All the participants were carefully selected by the teachers based on their score in the school championship and their attitude towards learning. They would fight hand to hand or with melee weapons. This seemed terribly outdated in an age of laser rifles but the Party believed that soldiers should have the physical strength and mental courage of their ancient forefathers who fought melee face to face with the enemy rather than shoot from distance with a gun.

John got up. He was sweating and panting. He let out a deep breath. “I will win!” he said, trying to persuade himself that he had a chance at the tournament. He was by no means insecure nor did he lack confidence; after all, the fact that he had made it at all into the tournament meant that the teachers believed he had potential. Yet winning the tournament was a completely another thing and he knew it.

He sat down on the dirt ground and closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for a brief moment. He dreamed big; of the worlds he would visit, the places he would see, the people he would meet if he managed to win and join the military. Ever since he was a young boy, he loved sitting on one of the many grass hills outside the village and looking at the night sky, gazing at the countless of stars. He would dream of visiting them and opening his horizons, living an adventure outside his small, backward village. Now he had a chance to do just that if he succeeded in the tournament.

“You are special.”

John opened his eyes. He looked around. No one could be seen. He scratched his head. ‘Weird,’ he thought. ‘I am certain I heard a female voice… must have been a dream...’ John sighed and closed his eyes again.

John had made it back to his parents’ house. He was going to eat something and bid them farewell before going to the arena. The house was crude, with earthen walls and mud floors. John’s parents, Jonathan and Martha, were simple farmers barely making a living.

John rushed to the kitchen to eat the cookies Martha had baked. Their delectable aroma pervaded the air- a melange of honey dew, orange preserves and dabs of crackling nuts.

Martha laughed. “You should eat more in order to have energy for the tournament.”

“Mmm! Delicious… as always!”

Jonathan was sitting on his wooden chair and smoking his wooden pipe. Grand puffs of smoke curled around his head. “Remember, you must be careful and patient at the tournament. Do not rush to action; think twice before you attack so that you do not let yourself open to a dangerous counterattack.”

“I will,” John replied as he chewed a cookie. “Don’t worry. I will do my best to make you proud.”

Jonathan smiled. “I know you will. My dream is that one day you will be a big time officer in the military instead of being a dirt poor farmer…”

Jonathan had toiled the fields all his life in Winsorsmith. He knew how hard life could be and how much he had missed in order to be able to make a livable living. He did not want his son to have that kind of life. If he managed to get into the military and got promoted, he could gain a decent income and be able to live life at its fullest. That was Jonathan’s dream for John.

Heinrich and Mayor Smith walked into the arena. It was a small colosseum made of wood; in urban areas the tournament’s colosseums were made from marble but such luxuries were not to be found in the countryside. The arena floor was covered by sand. Heinrich and Smith sat on a wooden box at the northern end that provided them with a good view of the arena. The rest of the viewers, mainly villagers but also a few travelers from other areas that were visiting the village, sat on the brick chairs. Many of them were already cheering and jeering even though the fight hadn’t even started yet.

From one side a wooden gate opened and a tall, muscular man walked into the arena. He was cheered on by the crowd. On the other end of the arena, another wooden gate opened and John walked in. There was a mixture of cheering and booing as he made his entry.

Heinrich yawned. He was a fan of the sport but when you had watched champions of fighting battle out in grand tournaments, watching a village tournament between two young lads who had just recently graduated from high school wasn’t exactly the most exciting spectacle.

John and the other man, a lad known as Ron, slightly bowed to each other, an honorary gesture to show appreciation between fighters though in this case it was just a formality rather than a real gesture of comradeship.

Ron charged forward with the speed and force of a hurricane. With a quick breath taken in then let out, John somersaulted, leaped above the man and landed behind him. He had just barely avoided what could have been a devastating attack. John tried to attack his opponent from behind but Ron was quick to turn around and blocked John’s fist with his elbow.

John let out a ragged breath. The somersault had tired him. He knew that he could not use such a move again and that he would have to rely on old good punches and kicks to beat his opponent.

John kicked his enemy, his leg forcefully hitting Ron’s left side. Aggravated, Ron punched back; John was able to parry his fist at first but Ron punched again even more forcefully and his fist hit John’s cheek. John spat some blood. He quickly retreated as the crowd booed him. Ron was laughing.

John decided to counterattack. He sped forward and punched at Ron, hitting his chest hard. Ron let out a slight cry but he quickly grabbed John’s hand and squeezed it. John gritted his teeth and kicked with his left leg Ron’s side as hard as he could in order to get him to free his hand.

The crowd was excitingly shouting and jeering. Among those watching was a young lady, in her early thirties, wearing a long purple silk dress. A long purple headscarf hid her raven black hair and part of her face. Although sitting, one could tell that she was tall. In her hands she held two eye balls. She twirled them and whispered some words in a strange language.

At that moment John felt a sudden surge of energy in him. As he once more kicked Ron, this time his kick hit especially hard and the man screamed in pain as he let go of John’s hand. John grinned. He could not believe his luck. His hand was bruised and he was sweaty and tired but happy nevertheless. With renewed energy, he punched Ron hard. His fist hit Ron’s nose and a loud crack sound was heard as it broke and blood flowed on his face. Ron hit back, trying to regain control of the situation, but John parried his punches with his elbow.

The mysterious woman smiled as John was getting the upper hand. She was still twirling the two eye balls in her hands and chanting strange words. John struck at Ron with a powerful back kick. His kick literally sent Ron flying as soon as it hit his chest. Ron landed on the arena’s floor. He tried to get up but he collapsed on the ground. He had been knocked out. The surprised crowd began cheering and shouting John’s name. They were all clapping.

Heinrich too was clapping. This last part of the fight had woken him up. This boy wasn’t another one provincial potential soldier; he seemed special. “Who is he?” he asked the mayor.

"He is a farm boy named John," the mayor replied dismissively. "The son of a Jonathan and Martha - nobody special."

"I very much doubt that...," Heinrich murmured, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. Turning around, he ordered to three of his subordinates, "Go and fetch the boy. I want to meet him."

The mysterious woman was walking through the underground corridors in which the fighters waited before they would walk into the arena. Compared to other colosseums, this underground facility was relatively small and built of wood rather than brick as it was usually the case.

John had walked back there after bowing before the audience in the arena. The woman was looking left and right. She had to find him before they did. She rushed through the corridors, walking as fast as she could.

As she made a turn, she suddenly bumped into three soldiers. The soldiers were wearing blue full body plate armors and helmets and were armed with laser blasters. One of them stepped forward and asked with a stern, buzzing voice, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“I am simply looking for a friend,” the woman calmly replied.

“Please get out of here madam. Only those on official business are allowed.”

She simply ignored the soldiers and continued walking forward. The soldiers aimed their laser blasters at her and began firing. The woman twirled the eye balls in her hand and suddenly an invincible energy shield formed around her, deflecting the enemy fire. The laser blasts returned right back at the soldiers. One screamed in agony as the laser blast opened a wide hole on his chest. The other two men, seeing this, threw away their blasters and instead pulled long laser knifes from their belts. They charged at the woman, aiming to stab her.

The woman twirled around, dodging the laser blades. With a swift back kick she pummeled the head of one of the soldiers; his helmet was cracked wide open. Before he could regain his senses, the woman kicked him again, this time with a quick flying kick. A loud cry was heard as the man spat blood and broken teeth. He fell on the ground, knocked out.

Only one soldier remained. He roared as he charged at her. She leaned downward as the laser blade passed right above her head, only a few inches away from her skin. She could feel the heat from the blade. The man stabbed at her again, aiming to cut her face. She remained steady and calm, waiting for the man to get closer. As the blade approached her, she stretched out her hand and grabbed it by the hilt. The soldier let out a rugged breath as his laser knife was now at the hands of his enemy; the woman without wait at once grabbed the man’s head with her one hand and used the knife to slit his throat with her other hand.

With all three soldiers dead, she ran ahead, hoping to find John. A moment later she saw him resting on the wooden wall. She removed her headscarf, slowly approached him and, with the most seductive smile she could muster, she spoke to him. “Hi. I saw you at the arena. You were most impressive.”

John flashed a wide grin. He had never seen such a beauty in his life before. She had a pale complexion that was complimented by her fiery red lips, her rosy cheeks and her gem like eyes that shone like the clear and piercing light of the moon. Most women in the village could not compare to that beauty, not that he had seen many of them. Schools were gender segregated as the Unity Party hoped to promote traditional morality. “Hi. Thanks. I was just doing my best. So… you… eh…”

John wasn’t usually the awkward type but this time he was at loss for words and stuttering.

The woman chuckled. “Name is Iris. Why don’t you come with me for a walk? I want to know more about you.”

John would usually be more reluctant to following a stranger but he wasn’t thinking clearly. In the traditionalist society of Winsorsmith, where everyone knew each other and any relationship that did not lead to marriage would be known and frowned upon, John did not have much opportunities of hanging out with girls, especially as beautiful as Iris. He had heard gossip that tournament champions could easily get laid due to their fame and he thought that this was the case now. Or, at the very least, he could become friends with this beauty. “Alright, I guess a walk won’t hurt!” he replied and laughed.

As they walked outside the colosseum and onto the dirt road leading outside of the village, two muscular men rushed towards them. They were the mayor’s men, sent out to see why Heinrich’s soldiers were late. Upon seeing that the soldiers had been slain, they rushed outside of the colosseum hoping to find the perpetrator. Although they did not seem to find the killer, they did see John and decided to reach for him and get him to see Heinrich.

Seeing them, Iris turned around. She still had the eye balls in her hand. She pointed them at the two men and twirled them. Suddenly what seemed like an invincible energy wave swept away the men, throwing them away and knocking them out. John’s face was pale white and he gaped in astonishment. “I…I….”

Before he could say anything, Iris put away the eye balls and quickly grabbed the laser knife she had taken from the dead soldier. She pointed it at John’s throat and said, “don’t speak and don’t make any move or I will slit your throat. Follow me quietly or you will have their fate.”

John was overtaken by cold sweat and was trembling. He could not utter a word. He simply nodded in agreement.

Heinrich, Mayor Smith and a couple of soldiers and bodyguards were looking at the slain bodies of the three soldiers in the underground facility. Heinrich was silent, with no discernible expression shown on his face. “Do you have a record of what happened here?” he asked the mayor.

“I have a couple of security cameras. They are not high quality; they are black and white and a bit blurry, but they at least get the job done.”

He pulled out from his pocket a small hologram device which was wirelessly connected with the security cameras. He pressed a few buttons and activated it. The hologram projected what they cameras recorded; Heinrich and the others watched Iris murder the three men and then approach John.

All of them, with the exception of Heinrich, were visibly shaken by Iris’ abilities. “Sorcery!” Heinrich exclaimed, finger thrust into the air. “I never thought I would find a sorceress on such a remote village.”

“Is John an accomplice or did she lured him away for some reason?” Smith asked, wiping the cold sweat on his forehand with his hand.

“Doesn’t matter. Both he and the woman must be apprehended. Have John’s parents arrested immediately and announce that tomorrow evening they will be hanged in public. Make sure that the news spreads widely.”

“Do you really think the kid will be lured? Seems too obvious of a trap. Not to say that the sorceress might not give a damn for the kid’s parents.”

“It is worth a try,” Heinrich replied. “We’ve got nothing to lose. I will also call the Hunter.”

“The hunter?”

“James H. Anter, but he is better known as the ‘hunter’. He is one of the best bounty hunters. He has a long experience in hunting down sorcerers. He will find those two and bring them to me, dead or alive!”