Chapter 1

"We lack the necessary ability to penetrate the barrier, Eneri. We require your expertise to get the job done where we cannot reach." The forbidding man atop the throne held his inky black gaze upon the man before him, studying him. "I trust we are not asking too much of you?" The man crossed his muscular arms over his golden-armored chest, lifting his chin in challenge. Shoulder-length black hair fell from his face, and he smirked softly.

The throne room was uncomfortably warm, and Eneri's neck was slick with sweat. "Of course not, Lord Uzial. No one is better at seeking and exterminating than I." Eneri Willowip was boastful and full of himself, but his reputation preceded him, and his arrogance became easily understandable. He removed one of his many blades from his belt and held it out to Uzial, point down, and kneeled. "By my honor as your follower, my lord, I shall not fail," he vowed, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Eneri was a slim, but muscular man. Even his blue-gray loose-fitting shirt and pants could not hide that. His black cape closed about him as he rose again, returning his cool gray eyes to Uzial's.

Uzial's smirk formed into a satisfied smile. With a flick of his hand, he bid Eneri away. "Get to it, then. Don't fail me."

Eneri took a moment to answer. Through all his years in service to Lord Uzial, he had still only been in his presence when given important missions. And even then, it was seldom in the throne room. The place was luxurious, if gruesome. The walls were bedded with tapestries of Uzial's great legacy and victories. Candles were placed within the shattered skulls fitted into the wall. Behind the throne lay a great pool of lava, which lent the sector its heat. Eneri glanced down briefly at the dry and drying blood on the floor, grinning inwardly. Uzial fancied his work.

Clasping his fist in his palm, he bowed deeply and exited. He was eager with anticipation. He strode at a brisk pace from the throne room into the halls beyond, barely noticing the battered prisoner being carried under the shoulders into the throne room by two large guards.

This would be a massive feat, should he succeed in this mission. Uzial had finally pinpointed someone who had eluded him for years, and now that he finally had her, she would not survive long. Eneri lived to please Lord Uzial, and completing this request would score him honor in the lord's eyes. Eneri would have done it regardless. His bloodlust seemed insatiable, and he thirsted for more of it. This would do just fine. If Lord Uzial had this much trouble finding the woman, then I should have fun hunting her, myself. He grinned wickedly and quickened his pace, cape billowing out behind him as the dark stone pillars passed by in a blur.

I will not fail you, my lord, Eneri Willowip answered belatedly, finally sheathing his short sword and continuing his exit of the large fortress.

He set up camp late that night under the pale light of the first, larger moon, Alkhar. It's silver beauty hung high above his head, seeming to watch over him as he traveled. After kindling a fire, he transferred a large log from the surrounding shadows of the Reanne Forest into the firelight where he dropped onto it. He set his traveling pack aside and undid his utility belt, setting it in his lap. He dug through his pack and picked out a coarse stone, removing a short dagger from the belt.

His eyes casually searched the darkness outside the eyes of the fire, sliding the coarse stone over the blade, sharpening it. He fantasized about his encounter with the damned woman. Though it was not his place to know what it was she was so hunted for, he fancied the image what her face would look like, so contorted with pain and terror.

What caught his interest more than anything was the trouble Lord Uzial had had in finding her in the first place. She had done an impressive job of keeping hidden all this time. Lord Uzial had ordered him not to allow any who stood in his way to survive, and so it would be. He would complete the extermination without fail.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a noise from the darkness that surrounded him. He set the coarse stone upon the ground before him and took the hilt of the dagger in his left hand, glancing around calmly. Two red robins flew out of the low brush and into a high tree, and he laughed in spite of himself. But then, he heard something else. Quick as a beast, Eneri leaned sideways, a short knife whizzing passed him to plant itself in a tree adjacent him. He spun to his feet and narrowed his eyes, attempting to allow his sight to adapt to the darkness. Another throwing knife came spinning at him, and he caught it in his right hand. It had come from behind him. There was more than one out there. He grinned wickedly and kicked out the fire, dropped the throwing knife, and dashed into the surrounding brush and trees.

He heard footsteps as he ran, and he closed his eyes. An axe descended from his left, and he sidestepped, yanking the dagger's twin free. In a blur he counterattacked blindly, using his other senses to guide him. The right-handed dagger bedded itself deep into the neck of one of the pursuers, and he yanked it free as the victim fell limp, dead.

Another lunged at him from the shadows, a wicked long knife in his hand, aiming to stab Eneri in the sternum. Eneri dropped to one knee, and the blade passed harmlessly over his head. In one, quick motion, Eneri struck out at the second, stabbing both daggers into either side of the attacker's rib cage. He heard the man cry out, but before he could counterattack, Eneri twisted both blades in opposite directions, and the second fell dead. Blood coated his face and eyelids, still closed. He heard a third, running in the opposite direction. Now it was Eneri taking off in pursuit. Sheathing his left-handed dagger, he drew a throwing knife of his own, flicking it into the darkness ahead of him. He heard a grunt before a deep thud as a large form hit the earth.

Eneri opened his eyes. The whole ordeal had taken under a minute. Wiping the blood from his face with his free hand, he treaded over to the body of the last to die, freeing the knife from the man's spine. Eyes adjusting to the dark, Eneri saw that he was no more than a common thief. "Bandits," he muttered to himself, sighing. He checked his pockets, but found only a few copper marks. It was the same with the rest. They were lowly thieves preying on a single man, hoping to get lucky. Eneri smirked and shook his head, returning to the site of the snuffed fire.

Guess this wasn't their lucky day.

After rekindling the bonfire, he returned to his log. He reached into the pack he had left there and removed a water sack, draining a bit into his hands. He wiped the drying vita from his skin, afterward taking a few swallows from the sack. He returned the cork to the spout so it wouldn't leak and dropped it back into his travel pack, pulling the drawstring tight.

He plopped onto the ground, propping his back with the log, and wrapped himself in his ebony cloak. He had only been given a brief description and her general whereabouts. Lord Uzial must have done this on purpose, he mused. He's trying to test me.

His eyes flitted closed, and as he drifted to sleep, a fabrication of his prey appeared in his mind.

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Ebony eyes glared down upon the meager man, curled up in the fetal position. He wept at his helplessness, knowing his death was close at hand. Uzial's eyes flickered, and the man's right hand began to burn. "Now, I'll ask you again. What is her name?" He was losing his patience, his hands clenching the arms of his throne tightly.

The wails echoing throughout the throne room lingered as the man's hand blackened. Through tears trickling down his face and blood that frothed from his mouth, the man's lips trembled and he shook his head hopelessly. "I told you, I don't know!" The low-burning fire began to creep up his arm, and oily smoke roiled into the air as he screamed again.

Uzial sighed irritably; this was getting him nowhere. He slid to his feet and descended the steps to the bloodied ground the man before him was laid upon. With an iron grip, he clutched the other by the throat and lifted him with ease, holding him aloft. The man flailed weakly within the other's powerful grip, hands scraping at the hand to release. "Please," he gasped, "I have a family." The guards glanced over from their post at the door curiously, but otherwise remained indifferent. Even if they had objections, they wouldn't be stupid enough to voice them. Uzial would execute them both if the thought even crossed their minds.

The golden-clad lord huffed and flung the prisoner sideways, grunting with the effort. He skidded into a dark stone pillar, weeping uncontrollably. His blue eyes found Uzial's and gathered himself, slowing his breathing. "If I tell you," he ventured, wiping the tears from his face, "will you let me live?"

Seeming to think the matter over a moment, Uzial casually walked toward the man, pursing his lips. "If the information proves true, then yes," he vowed. "I will let you live." He knelt down close to the prisoner's face and studied the commitment he saw in his bleary eyes. "But you better pray to the Creator for forgiveness should you lie to me." His eyes darkened menacingly. "For if you do, I will unleash upon you a fate worse than death. Much worse."

The prisoner whimpered, but nodded slowly. "I know next to nothing about her. But I do know that her name is Elexis Homara. She lives in a small village to the far northeast of here, in the remote areas of the Isys Grasslands, across the Shaye River."

Uzial smiled pleasantly. "Thank you," he replied. "Now, was that so hard?" The other shook his head, a hint of relief crossing his face. Almost faster than the eye could follow, Uzial draw a dagger from his boot and slashed the prisoner's throat. He choked and fell on his side, dying.

He spat on the dying form and stood, turning. "That was for lying to me," he muttered. He sheathed the dagger back to his ankle and spun on his heel, long strides taking him to the large double-doors. His dark fall of hair obscured his face as he turned down hallways and burst through doors.

A singsong call from behind reached Uzial's ears, and he sighed. He wasn't in the mood to entertain. A young, redheaded adolescent treaded down through halls at a jog, trying to catch up. "Father," he called again, in that tone that gave Uzial chills.

Clad in gold, stained by a prisoner's vita, he stopped and turned. A brown, one-piece suit stuck to the boy's sweaty tan skin. A careless smile was worn in innocence upon the boy's face, and his red hair obscured only slightly his father's inherited inky black eyes. The boy stopped short and his nostrils flared, and he took a step back involuntarily. "Dad, you smell like metal again."

Such ignorance, thought Uzial sadly. His heir should not be ignorant, he knew, but it was customary for children to grow up as they would. Afterward, they may be taught in the ways of their family. Once the kid reached the age of a teenager, he'd be ready. Now that Uzial thought about it, that time was only a few short months away. He was tugging on his father's shoulder clasp for attention. "Did the bad man say anything?" he asked.

Uzial knelt down to his son's eye level and smiled softly, nodding. "Yes he did. Sadly, apart from a name, no new information was to be had, I'm afraid." Lifting a hand to the boy's head, Uzial raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing around here, Zaal? You know I'm busy during the working hours."

Zaal pouted and shrugged. "There was nothing else to do. I just thought I'd come by and see you, dad."

Chuckling in spite of himself, Uzial ruffled the boy's hair. "Would you like to see some of daddy's job, then?" he ventured, a smirk crossing his face. What could a few months harm? he mused.

The boy nodded, and Uzial's smirk grew. Taking Zaal by the hand, he led him back through the halls. They descended spiraling stairs and walked down narrow passageways, toward the prison cells. The air became musty very quickly, and Zaal made a face. "It smells bad down here."

"Lots of bad people down here," Uzial replied, knocking on a large iron door. A warden approached the barred opening in the door and, upon seeing Uzial's face, immediately released the locks. The door groaned in protest as it eased open, and the two walked in.

Zaal, thought Uzial, grinning inwardly, welcome to my life.