Blackgrave

On a cold and stormy evening in the month of Chaos, three teenage boys gathered around a table inside a tavern. The boys were nestled up by the fire, and despite them being young, Gil, the owner, allowed each of them a drink.

“One and then yer all off back to home, ya hear?” Gil was a kind, old sea dwarf who often told tall tales of voyages from his Jorgman days, though he knew the boys would be in no mood for stories tonight.

“Thanks, Captain,” one of the young boys replied as he took his pint. The boys all took to calling him “Captain Gil” after learning about his seafaring past. “We will clear off once we're done.”

“Surprised yer pa hasn’t hollered for ya, Eija. I half expected to see him tonight,” Gil said to the boy.

“I haven’t been home all day.” Eija took a big gulp.

The tallest of the three boys slapped Eija’s back. “Cheer up, we will go back out first thing in the morning and give another look.” Gil gave the boys a look over. Their clothes were filthy and covered in mud up to their knees. Each boy was worn out and exhausted. Eija looked the worst. In addition to filth and exhaustion, a wretched look of disappointment showed in his eyes.

“Be careful out there, boys.” Gil gave them a stern look. “There’s a reason they say to stay on the road and stick close to town. There’s evil out in those swamps. The kind of evil just waiting to grab ahold of you, ya hear?”

“Then what am I to do? Just pretend everything is alright?” Eija replied.

“Has your father sent word to The Order?” Gil asked.

“He has, but it’s already been 12 days since she’s disappeared, and we still don’t know if our letter has reached them. Father said Witchbane Keep is nearly eight days' travel by caravan. Even if the letter has reached them, it will be a few more days before we hear back.”

“Now you listen to me, boys. When those Witch Hunters get here, you steer clear and only speak to them when spoken to.” Gil suddenly became very serious. “Some of them are cruel and ready to strike at anyone who dares stir them the wrong way. Not too long ago they were little more than a whisper, now the lot of them wave around the King’s seal and do as they please. I remember when I first met someone claiming to be a “Witch Hunter”. I thought he was mad with Prejudice. He hated all things with Arcane, even those who wielded it for good.”

The door to the tavern swung open, and in walked a man in a green hood. It concealed his face and had a point reminiscent of old wizard hats. On his belt was an arming sword and a few small hatchets made of iron. A long sword made of steel was sheathed on his back, and upon his chest was a dagger he could pull out at a moment's notice.

The traveler's pack was tightly fastened, and he limped on his left leg. His cloak was covered in red blotchy stains, and his clothes were torn all over. Bloodstains were on his left leg and both of his arms. The man took in his surroundings quickly before he proceeded to the bar where Gil rushed over to meet him.

The man sat down and removed his pack, placing it on the floor beside him. “I would like a room for the night,” he said in a low voice.

“The cost is 3 silvers for the night. There’s a pot with fresh food on that fire, and it covers a pint of ale,” Gil replied as he looked the man over. He leaned in and whispered, “Are you okay, lad?”

“Fine,” replied the man. “Just need to rest.” He grabbed a hold of a small pouch that hung at his side and fumbled around inside of it until he produced 3 silvers and slid them over. “I’ll take the drink now,” he said before standing up and getting some soup from the pot. By the time he found his way back to his seat, the three boys were eying him with wonder.

“You think that’s the one?” whispered the tall boy.

“I don’t know, but he looks pretty beat up already,” Eija replied.

“Go over and ask him,” whispered the last boy.

“What?” the tall boy said. “You heard old man Gil, better to steer clear.”

“I’m going to do it,” Eija said with a crazed look on his face. He downed his drink and wiped his lips before crossing the room to the strange man. His heavy steps rang out in the tavern as he approached. Gil shook his head and stared angrily at him in hopes to dissuade him, but Eija pressed on.

“Careful, boy,” the man said as he put down his drink. “You should never approach a Witch Hunter’s back. They might mistake you for something wicked out to do them harm.”

“So you are a Witch Hunter then?” Eija hastily replied. “Are you here to look into what happened with my sister?” Eija was full of excitement and cared little for formalities.

“I’m afraid not,” the Witch Hunter replied. “I’m returning from a hunt over in Sossaboro.”

“But if you are here, could you at least look around? Maybe in the morning? I could take you to my hou-”

“Listen, child, I am not here at your beck and call. Do not mistake me for some village guard you can run to about all your problems.” The Witch Hunter stared Eija down.

“Eija!” Gil shouted. “I see that you have finished your drink, so I think it’s high time you sling your hook.” Gil had a foreboding stare he mastered from his days at sea. Eija stared back in anger at Gil for a moment.

“C’mon guys, old man Gil wants us to leave.” Eija wanted to press the Witch Hunter further, but Gil would not have it. The three boys left without another word.

“Sorry about that,” Gil said once it was just the two of them. “So it’s true then? Yer one of those Witch Hunters?” Gil poured himself a drink and stood opposite of the Witch Hunter, attempting to make small talk.

The Witch Hunter stared at Gil for a few seconds before slowly pulling up his left sleeve. There, branded into his forearm, was the flaming crown surrounding a wyvern stretching its wings just past the flames.

“Does this answer your question, or would you like me to produce the King’s seal?”

“No worries, lad. I’m just always excited to see a new face, especially one whose work leads them to dark corners.” Gil may not have particularly liked any Witch Hunter he had ever met, but he did find their lives and line of work to be fascinating. “You said you were hunting up in Sossaboro. Well that’s nearly a day’s travel - are you all by yourself?”

“I am now,” coldly replied The Witch Hunter.

“I take it the hunt didn’t go as planned?” Gil asked.

“They seldom do,” replied the Witch Hunter.

“What is it you were hunting, if you don’t mind me asking?” Gil somewhat stammered.

“A spirit of sorts. One of Misery. It was causing much grief among the townsfolk.” The Witch Hunter finished off his bowl of soup.

“Sorry about the boy again. He’s worked up ‘cause it's his sister that’s gone missing. Ya understand, emotions run high in those who request The Order.” Gil tried his best to hide it, but he wanted the Witch Hunter to look for Eija’s sister, too. Having lived in the village of Eddelsreef for the last 15 years, he had seen Eija and his sister grow from when they were both babies.

“He will survive,” The Witch Hunter replied. “Where I come from, we shed our pain with the blade to remind us of that which we can control. I don’t know what customs you have, but Torment always listens to those that offer themselves.”

The Witch Hunter looked into Gil’s eyes. “If he sent word to The Order, it is only a matter of time before a group arrives. This is no business of mine.” He took a sip of his drink.

“Would you be willing to have a look? In the very least, it will calm the boy down. For all we know the girl is just lost in the woods, and you checking around could clear that up. But if there is something wicked at play, you could at least tip the next group off on your way back to the Keep.”

“I am in no condition to hunt. Damn it, man! I had to leave behind my brothers.” The Witch Hunter stared off into the distance. A streak of bitter horror came across his face and he finished off his drink. “I’ll be gone before sunrise,” he said as he stood up. “Now, where will I be staying?”

Gil and the Witch Hunter stared at one another before Gil bent down behind the bar and grabbed a key. He motioned towards the hall and pointed out the door.

“She’s already been missing 12 days. The lad’s been out in the swamps looking for her every day since. I’m not asking for much, but I suppose I can’t bend your arm.” Gil withdrew into himself. The Witch Hunter tilted his head slightly.

“12 days…” the Witch Hunter repeated, clearly thinking about something.

“That’s right. It happened early on Chaos 1st,” Gil told the Witch Hunter. The Witch Hunter gave no reply for a few moments, his mind lost in thought.

“How old is the girl?”

“Her 13th Remnant day is tonight, Chaos 13th.” Gil frowned and was overcome with fresh emotions he had tried to push away when the girl first disappeared. The Witch Hunter’s eyes grew wide.

“Where are the girl’s parents?” the Witch Hunter demanded, placing his hand on Gil’s shoulder.

“So you’ll help then?” Gil replied, half shaken by the abrupt movement of the Witch Hunter. The Witch Hunter dug his fingers into Gil’s shoulder.

“Answer the question.” The Witch Hunter’s eyes now stared down Gil. A cold shiver ran down Gil’s back.

“They’re tanners!” Gil replied. “Ya can’t miss ‘em. They live just down the road, right by a big, red maple.” Gil looked at the Witch Hunter with fear in his eyes. He wanted to be anywhere but there and alone with him. The Witch Hunter let go of his shoulder, snatched up his pack, and was out the door in the next instant.

The rain had calmed, but was still present and looming above. The Witch Hunter pressed on down the road until he spotted the large, red maple in front of a house with several exposed huts and tanning racks. It was late, but the Witch Hunter did not care if he stirred anyone awake. He pressed on to the house and knocked his fist against the door 3 times. He paused and looked around for a moment before the door suddenly opened. It was the boy from the bar. “Where are your parents?” the Witch Hunter asked him.

“I.. I.. I don’t know!” stammered Eija. “Father always wakes up early so he should be here, and mother hasn’t left the house since Aleya disappeared but she isn’t here either.” The Witch Hunter pushed past him into the dark house.

“Why isn’t your hearth burning?” the Witch Hunter said to himself as he looked over the faint embers that still remained. “Go fetch a candle.”

Eija quickly gathered up a candle and handed it over. Using the embers of the fire and a stick, the Witch Hunter lit the candle and moved around the house, looking things over. His limp, ever present, was a sour reminder of how injured he was.

Shed the pain, he told himself. We must always shed the pain. He grabbed a hold of his right forearm and squeezed it as hard as he could. He took a few deep breaths to regain his composure and moved on into the house.

There was a half cut up rabbit on a table, but no knife beside it. A few roots laid in a bowl full of water. A cup was knocked over onto the ground; its contents looked to be water. The Witch Hunter fell into a daze.

“It’s the same,” he said to himself. Eija looked on in bewilderment. He was confused as to why his parents were gone, and more so by how the Witch Hunter seemed to have lost himself.

“What’s going on?” Eija asked him.

“I believe your parents are with your sister,” the Witch Hunter told him as he rummaged through the drawers.

“What?” Eija asked.

“Your parents are with your sister, isn’t it obvious?” The Witch Hunter quit picking through the drawers. “I suspect you have salt somewhere in this house?”

“Salt?” Eija replied. “Yea, we have lots. We have some in the house for cooking, but father keeps most of it out in one of the sheds.”

“Good.” The Witch Hunter unstrapped his sack and started to rifle through it until he pulled out an empty jar. “Here, fill this with salt.”

“Hold on,” Eija said. “You said my parents are with my sister? Where is my sister?” Eija held an angry stare at the Witch Hunter. He wanted answers, and he knew the Witch Hunter had them.

“Gather the salt and I will take you to them,” the Witch Hunter replied. Eija held his gaze for a moment more before breaking away and collecting the salt from the outside shed.

“Now, tell me where to find my sister and parents.” Eija withheld giving the Witch Hunter the salt.

“Fine, but you will not like what you see,” the Witch Hunter replied as he snatched the jar away. Eija reeled back for a moment, staring in curious horror.

“What is happening?” Eija demanded. “Tell me what is going on right now!” Eija was florid. His anger towards the Witch Hunter’s attitude and tone could not be contained. The Witch Hunter placed the salt in his pack.

“I’m taking you to go see your parents and your sister. I have a good idea where they are.” The Witch Hunter looked at Eija for a moment before pressing past him out the door.

Eija didn’t know what was going on, but he knew the Witch Hunter was withholding information . As to what, he dared not to imagine. Down the road, Eija caught up to him. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“If I am not mistaken, two rivers intersect near this road,” the Witch Hunter replied.

“You're right,” Eija told him. “Less than a mile outside of town. Just north of the Bryars Bridge.”

“That’s where we will find them,” the Witch Hunter replied. He grabbed a hold of his right forearm again. Shed the pain he told himself. Shed the pain.

“What did you need the salt for?” Eija asked him.

“For burning a Witch,” he replied. Eija half chuckled in amazement. A smile crept on his face.

“So it was a Witch that took my sister?” Eija asked.

“Not just a Witch, but a Coven,” the Witch Hunter replied.

“How do you know all this?” Eija had only ever heard stories of witches from Gil. Most of which were second-hand that he had heard from sailing port to port in his youth.

“Because it’s all happened before,” the Witch Hunter replied. “Many years ago, the same thing happened in my village when I was just a boy. First a girl went missing, then 12 days later, on the evening of Chaos 13th, the girl’s Remnant day, the parents also went missing. That night, the three of them were found at the intersection point of two rivers.”

“Why were they there?” Eija asked.

“Because the Coven’s rituals of initiation demand it so,” the Witch Hunter told him.

“Who are they?”

“They are known as the Daughters of Chaos,” the Witch Hunter replied. “They see the intersection of two rivers as a symbol of how Chaos and Fate intersect throughout life. Those that follow the Sunlit Flame know we are all put on a path by Fate, but it is us who must walk it. Chaos seeks to remove us from our path in life, and though we have Providence to protect us along the way, there is far too much for only him to maintain. The Daughters of Chaos believe that, by rejecting Fate’s path, they are free.”

The Witch Hunter carried a sorrowful look. His own physical pains were wearing on him, and past anguishes were resurfacing.

“The power they tamper with is too wild, too unpredictable. Chaos in nature is uncontrolled. They are fools to believe they are free.” He paused for a moment to reflect. “But that is why sometimes we must shed the pain. Engage in acts of Torment to remind ourselves of what we can control.”

Eija was entranced by everything he heard. He hardly noticed how close they were. “We're almost there,” Eija replied. He suddenly realized that danger was ahead of them.

“Heed my warning, boy. The darkness that lies ahead for you is no easy thing to bear. Your very soul will be blackened by this encounter.” The Witch Hunter’s words echoed into Eija’s mind. His heartbeat quickened, and he found himself sweating for seemingly no reason.

Eija bolstered his resolve the best he could. “I have to see what has happened with my own eyes. No words will do it justice. This is my family. My burden to bear.”

Eija looked at the Witch Hunter with as much strength as he could muster. He tried to hide how broken up he was inside and how the thought of what was to come terrified him. He could spend no time thinking about what lay ahead, lest he would drive himself into madness at the possibilities. He decided that, no matter what, he wouldn’t think of it and just accept everything that happens.

“If that is what you wish, but you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” The Witch Hunter tried to force a smile, but he could hardly manage to keep a straight face from the constant overwhelming pain in his leg. He snatched a flask from his belt and drank it down quickly.

“Are you okay?” Eija asked.

“I’ll be fine. Just stay back once I say so. It’s going to be dangerous. There will be a Witch there. Though, if we're lucky, she won’t be strong enough to beat me.” He slid his sword off his back as they neared the bridge before heading off into the woods.