Act 3: Destination
Chapter nine: Seeking redemption
Morning
Tristan was sitting on the chair in his house, his untouched meal on the table in front of him still waiting to be eaten. The fresh food was as much a source of nourishment as it was a reminder of how good his life really was in Ironhand.
It was a subtle attempt to erase the doubts he had about his fellow Hunters, the laws, Snyder and…himself. What he was doing.
Frustrated at himself and the conflict he was currently going through, Tristan kept a sigh from escaping his lips. His head was supported by his hands, which forcefully pressed down on his temples to the point where his skull felt like it was being crushed.
Ever since that battle with Jack, Tristan had been thinking about the somewhat oddly dressed man's words. He had been considering the reasons for Jack's betrayal, and although Tristan would not admit it, he was starting to feel unsure if what Jack had done was unjust.
Tristan had always been told that mobs were dangerous beings—forces to be reckoned with. They had to die for humanity's safety. But if he were to let go of those teachings for even a moment and look upon them from a fresh perspective…would he still agree with them? Was what he had been doing all this time really right?
"A potential threat?!" Jack's voice echoed. "I'm sorry, how many cases did you say are there where a mob killed a human unprovoked?"
"Y…Y…Yaebi." An innocent voice. Yaebi. The mob Tristan had been prepared to capture or kill, simply because of what it was. He had been told that the mobs' innocent demeanor was merely a way to fool humans into a false sense of security. But how much evidence was there for that?
Why did humans really hate mobs? Was it because mobs were evil? Or because they were feared for their power?
"So you people just discriminate mobs and call it justice?" Jack.
"Jack has gone rogue." Raulyn.
"All I know is that their inhuman abilities make them dangerous, and that danger needs to be eradicated!" Himself.
"All I know…" he repeated to himself. All I know is that mobs are evil. All I know is fighting. The danger mobs may represent. And I never asked myself…is destroying everything that is not human the only way to achieve peace? Could that even be called true peace?
If I were hunted only because I was not human—if I were hunted because I had a power nobody understood or comprehended…what would I do? Would I fight? Kill? Hide? Team up with others like me?
He sighed. Changing the world with destruction…I always thought that that was an evil thing to do, regardless of the ultimate result. And now here I am, realizing that I have been committing that very crime since I joined the Hunters.
That thought made him stand up. Something not dissimilar to determination rose within him. I cannot end this. Not by myself. But I can do whatever I can. I can search for Jack and the mobs to see who the real enemy is. But by leaving, I weaken the Hunters. Weaken Ironhand.
He grabbed his weapons and armor, despite knowing that his life was probably forfeit if he were to continue this plan. Raulyn would find him and kill him. But Tristan had done too much wrong, and now he had to set it right. By any means, he was going to allow justice free passage into Ironhand.
He exited his house and headed to the Hunters' headquarters. More weapons were needed to improve the chances for a good outcome.
After ensuring that he was alone in the building, Tristan made his way to the Hunters' main weapon storage. Of course, walking out of a village with swords, spears and axes on his belt could not be done without attracting attention. He would have to sneak his way out of Ironhand.
Upon reaching the room, he looked at the swords with doubt. Who was going to teach these mobs how to use swords? Tristan only ever used his dagger or his bow for close combat, and Snyder seemed to prefer fighting unarmed—implying that his experience with weapons like these was limited.
With that in mind, Tristan turned away and stepped towards the collection of bows and arrows.
Suddenly, he froze.
Footsteps.
He turned to the opening of the room, reflexively grabbing his crossbow and putting a bolt into it. He aimed at the doorframe.
When Drake's tall silhouette appeared, Tristan relaxed and lowered his weapon. He sighed in relief as the older Hunter entered the storage room with a confused expression.
"Tristan…?" Drake eventually spoke. "Why are you here? And what is with the crossbow?"
Tristan frowned before looking down at his crossbow, realizing that he could have killed Drake mere moments ago. Why had he drawn his weapon? Was he that nervous?
Should he have killed Drake in an attempt to weaken the Hunters?
"Sorry," Tristan eventually spoke. "After the incident at the Silver Cave, I have been…more nervous than usual."
"… I see," Drake said, though he sounded doubtful. "But why did you go to our armory? You already have weapons."
Tristan did not reply. He did not know what he should be saying.
Drake frowned. "Are you all right? Perhaps you should get more rest."
The younger man hesitated, but ultimately nodded. There was no point in going against Drake now; he would simply have to bide his time until an opportunity was presented.
Unless…
"Drake…" Tristan said. "Have you ever thought about a more peaceful way to rule?"
"What do you mean?" Drake asked. "We are already at peace."
"We wage war on mobs," Tristan said. "But what if there is a different way?"
"Mobs and humans cannot coexist."
"Sources say that the Kingdom was able to keep humans and mobs in peace for a long time."
"The Kingdom was wrong. That is why it fell." Drake tilted his head. "Has Snyder's betrayal inspired you? He attacked you."
"He spared me—and so did the mob." Tristan glanced down. "I…I simply feel as if our view on mobs is too dogmatic. We have not even considered what their lives must be like—being forced to hide everywhere from humans. Scattered. Lost."
"Tristan."
Tristan looked up again.
"Why have you come here?" Drake asked. "Be truthful."
The archer hesitated, but he realized that there was no point in lying anymore—to Drake or to himself. He sighed. "I am going to find Snyder and any mobs he may be with. I believe that humans and mobs can coexist, and I intend to prove it."
Silence.
Tristan did not have the courage to look his fellow Hunter in the eye. He did, however, remember the crossbow he was still holding in his hands. If Drake was going to push him too far…
"I…suppose there is no way to convince you otherwise," Drake said. "But I would rather not fight."
"Neither would I," Tristan responded.
"However…if you continue to openly defy the laws of our village…" Drake's hand went to a large sword on a weapon rack next to him. "…I will be forced to fight—for the safety of not only Ironhand, but all human societies in the Overworld."
Tristan watched as his now fallen friend took the sword. He raised his crossbow, ready to fire.
At the same time, Drake proceeded to close the distance between them with great speed, sword held in both hands.
The battle ended mere moments later. Blood fell, staining the ground and the walls.
Afternoon
The people of Ironhand were shocked beyond belief when they heard that two of the three mob hunters of the village had fought to the death in their own headquarters. Their shock increased when they realized that Ironhand's influence would be significantly diminished because of this; the other cities and villages would undoubtedly lose their faith in the legendary group of mob killers. To make matters worse, Ironhand's defenses now rested on the shoulders of one single Hunter.
That single Hunter—Raulyn—took it the hardest. His comrades were dead. Killed by one another. Reasons were unknown, though not unguessable: people had seen Tristan heading to the headquarters with armor and weapons, so it was likely that he had plans of challenging Drake. This led many to believe that Snyder's words had actually managed to convince Tristan to betray the Hunters.
Raulyn, who was currently at his house, smashed his fist on the table in frustration. Jack Snyder. The one who started all this. That mob sympathizer. How had he been able to get into Tristan's head? Had the young archer really been that weak-willed?
No. Raulyn knew that that could not be the case.
Someone knocked on the door. Raulyn quickly calmed down before opening it. Malcolm stood before him.
"Raulyn, sir," the farmer greeted.
"Malcolm," Raulyn gruffly said. "Why are you here? Is this about Tristan and Drake?"
"Not directly, sir," Malcolm replied. "But we may have a chance for revenge."
"Explain."
"We have received a message from Glassway. The one who sent it had been travelling on horseback, so the message is still quite new."
"What is the message?"
"A human has been sighted by a squad of Glassway mob hunters. A human who fought alongside a group of mobs. He disarmed a recruit."
That made Raulyn's eyes widen. "What?"
"Apparently, the human assisted in the protection of the mob hunters' targets."
"Where?"
"The Silent Forest."
"Tell the messenger to return to Glassway immediately. Once there, he will order the available mob hunters in the village to meet me at the Silent Forest. Have them know that I will be waiting for them there."
"I will."
Both left the house, with Raulyn sprinting to the stables. If the human the message mentioned really was Snyder, he could not fail.
Humanity depended on it.