W
wachook
Guest
Original poster
Could it be true? For years Yeria had searched for her mentor and at times, she'd had to entertain the thought that her stalwart teacher had fallen to his own demons. But this latest blasphemy she'd heard from Willem… that he'd heard tell of a crossbreed in the Midden… surely this could not be the work of her beloved Lemueil. From the very moment she'd stepped off the boat, she knew that Willem was wrong. This was not Lemueil's country; this was not his land. The Lemueil she knew hated the hot summers of this country. He hated the way the wind hung in the breeze, the way the clouds held back from releasing the rain, the way the dust kicked up on the roads—or did she? The years had been long since the war; he had left her then. Could she really lay a claim on his feelings, long after they'd been gone?
Doubt had a way of creeping into her thoughts the closer she came to the Midden. Perhaps it was the work of the crossbreed bastard itself. Beasts were no strangers when it came to attacks to the mind—they were spiritual beings, after all. This fog of uncertainty... it couldn't come from her. Not when she'd spent the better of three decades hunting for Lemueil. Why, didn't they once rescue a village from being consumed by a Mara's uncouth thoughts? This was no different. The crossbreed was attempting to dissuade her from her purpose—Lemueil was a hunter, for God's sake. He had left her, yes, but he had not left the order.
"What's your purpose here?"
Her carriage had been stopped by the gates. Was this dung heap really worth the protection? The villagers here had already been sentenced to die—they were guinea pigs, not citizens.
"Open the door."
"It is unlocked." Yeria smoothed out her dress. "I am a hunter, come to slay the crossbreed you have kept in this… village."
"We're only people here." The guard looked over his shoulder to the Midden. "There isn't any monster… and we've plenty of eccentrics who'd verify that. From the universities, you know. They come flocking to places like ours. It's the atmosphere; they see everything and anything."
"Academics! Well, forgive me if I have a bit more sense than the green-horns." She uncorked a small vial before her and downed the silvery contents. She gasped slightly, facing away from the guard as her face began to flush. Then, a sharp whiff of sulfur… whatever else Willem had said, one thing was for certain—something was in the Midden.
"You alright?"
"It is as I thought. There is something here—the crossbreed, no doubt. Open the gates."
"Look here, for all I know you're just some lunatic. I'm not going to be responsible for someone getting shot here just because—"
Yeria pulled down the collar of her dress to reveal a nasty mark etched on her skin. It shone as red as the day she received it. Though the raw flesh could be seen in the mark, no blood flowed from the wound. It was as if her skin had become transparent in the shape of her order's sigil. The guard whistled, called for the gates to be opened, and took a second glance.
"Do you stop every visitor to this dump?" Yeria asked as she closed the door.
"Orders from the top." He shrugged. "Strange folk been coming 'round on account of that rumour. Can't be too careful!"
There was a parting thump on the carriage roof as he ushered her way in on to the Midden.
It was as if the King had pushed every beggar in the streets into one place. The squalor of the Midden was second to none other, though she did not blame the people. For how could one expect prosperity from a land once occupied by the spirits? Even now, their faint traces caused ill humours. Any stronger and she'd had arrived at a morgue... though perhaps a morgue would have served better for her goal. Corpses could not mislead people.
The Inn hadn't had much information for her, merely waving away her concerns as mere rumours as the guard had. A thought came to her then—perhaps the crossbreed had already charmed the populace? There were a few instances of beasts camouflaging themselves within people, and with the Midden being borne from conquered spiritual land, this concept was far from laughable. If she hadn't been damaged in the war, she could have sniffed out this beast in an instant. As things were, however, her carriage teetered from street to street, interrogating the downtrodden citizens of the Midden.
"He's in the reeds. That's where I saw him."
Her latest informant was a student from Latriva. His freckled cheeks flushed with excitement as he spoke.
"In the reeds? What, is he a frog?"
"No, no. He's a human."
"Looks like a human. There is a difference." Yeria scratched, "possible humanoid" on a piece of paper. "What else did you see? This being, what was he doing?"
"I'm not sure. I tried following him for a while but I lost him. He's some sort of a wolfman. I've only seen him at night."
"No," she clucked her tongue, "he's not a wolf. There aren't any left."
"Really? He matches my readings. But I suppose a hunter would know better... would you show me your mark? I've only ever seen one before—are they all the same?"
"No." She closed the door.
So many different accounts... but none of them had come from the villagers. Whether it was the innkeep or the orphans, they had all kept their mouths shut. Even the promise of gold had not loosened their lips. But first things first. Yeria had confirmed the existence of the creature; punishing the lying villagers would have to wait. Whether or not it lived in the Midden was a different thing but multiple strangers had seen him in the village. There was no time to set a trap tonight, not by herself. She opened the door again.
"Call your friends," she said to the student. "Help me catch the beast and you shall have its corpse for your studies. Meet me in the tavern before dinner. But I will be the one to kill it, understand?"
One way or another, Yeria would find out which hunter had spawned the crossbreed. If it did not show itself tonight, she was sure that a little coercion would pry open peoples' mouths.
Doubt had a way of creeping into her thoughts the closer she came to the Midden. Perhaps it was the work of the crossbreed bastard itself. Beasts were no strangers when it came to attacks to the mind—they were spiritual beings, after all. This fog of uncertainty... it couldn't come from her. Not when she'd spent the better of three decades hunting for Lemueil. Why, didn't they once rescue a village from being consumed by a Mara's uncouth thoughts? This was no different. The crossbreed was attempting to dissuade her from her purpose—Lemueil was a hunter, for God's sake. He had left her, yes, but he had not left the order.
"What's your purpose here?"
Her carriage had been stopped by the gates. Was this dung heap really worth the protection? The villagers here had already been sentenced to die—they were guinea pigs, not citizens.
"Open the door."
"It is unlocked." Yeria smoothed out her dress. "I am a hunter, come to slay the crossbreed you have kept in this… village."
"We're only people here." The guard looked over his shoulder to the Midden. "There isn't any monster… and we've plenty of eccentrics who'd verify that. From the universities, you know. They come flocking to places like ours. It's the atmosphere; they see everything and anything."
"Academics! Well, forgive me if I have a bit more sense than the green-horns." She uncorked a small vial before her and downed the silvery contents. She gasped slightly, facing away from the guard as her face began to flush. Then, a sharp whiff of sulfur… whatever else Willem had said, one thing was for certain—something was in the Midden.
"You alright?"
"It is as I thought. There is something here—the crossbreed, no doubt. Open the gates."
"Look here, for all I know you're just some lunatic. I'm not going to be responsible for someone getting shot here just because—"
Yeria pulled down the collar of her dress to reveal a nasty mark etched on her skin. It shone as red as the day she received it. Though the raw flesh could be seen in the mark, no blood flowed from the wound. It was as if her skin had become transparent in the shape of her order's sigil. The guard whistled, called for the gates to be opened, and took a second glance.
"Do you stop every visitor to this dump?" Yeria asked as she closed the door.
"Orders from the top." He shrugged. "Strange folk been coming 'round on account of that rumour. Can't be too careful!"
There was a parting thump on the carriage roof as he ushered her way in on to the Midden.
It was as if the King had pushed every beggar in the streets into one place. The squalor of the Midden was second to none other, though she did not blame the people. For how could one expect prosperity from a land once occupied by the spirits? Even now, their faint traces caused ill humours. Any stronger and she'd had arrived at a morgue... though perhaps a morgue would have served better for her goal. Corpses could not mislead people.
The Inn hadn't had much information for her, merely waving away her concerns as mere rumours as the guard had. A thought came to her then—perhaps the crossbreed had already charmed the populace? There were a few instances of beasts camouflaging themselves within people, and with the Midden being borne from conquered spiritual land, this concept was far from laughable. If she hadn't been damaged in the war, she could have sniffed out this beast in an instant. As things were, however, her carriage teetered from street to street, interrogating the downtrodden citizens of the Midden.
"He's in the reeds. That's where I saw him."
Her latest informant was a student from Latriva. His freckled cheeks flushed with excitement as he spoke.
"In the reeds? What, is he a frog?"
"No, no. He's a human."
"Looks like a human. There is a difference." Yeria scratched, "possible humanoid" on a piece of paper. "What else did you see? This being, what was he doing?"
"I'm not sure. I tried following him for a while but I lost him. He's some sort of a wolfman. I've only seen him at night."
"No," she clucked her tongue, "he's not a wolf. There aren't any left."
"Really? He matches my readings. But I suppose a hunter would know better... would you show me your mark? I've only ever seen one before—are they all the same?"
"No." She closed the door.
So many different accounts... but none of them had come from the villagers. Whether it was the innkeep or the orphans, they had all kept their mouths shut. Even the promise of gold had not loosened their lips. But first things first. Yeria had confirmed the existence of the creature; punishing the lying villagers would have to wait. Whether or not it lived in the Midden was a different thing but multiple strangers had seen him in the village. There was no time to set a trap tonight, not by herself. She opened the door again.
"Call your friends," she said to the student. "Help me catch the beast and you shall have its corpse for your studies. Meet me in the tavern before dinner. But I will be the one to kill it, understand?"
One way or another, Yeria would find out which hunter had spawned the crossbreed. If it did not show itself tonight, she was sure that a little coercion would pry open peoples' mouths.
