They used magic.

Ky came to with the vision of trees flooding his eyes. Countless branches stretched out above him, moving and bending to the light breeze that touched the cold air. He listened to the wind whisper in his ears as he stared up at them, dazed. He couldn't remember what had happened in the woods, or even how he came to be lying there on the ground. It was as if he had just woken from a dream, but that dream was really a nightmare.

A spirit howled in the distance, a deep and haunting sound. It finally broke the silence that had become accustomed to his ears. He squinted up at the dull sky and dark branches hovering over him.

The silence—

It all began to come to him. The forest's odd silence—the whispering—Dizzy—

"Dizzy."

He sat up, and as he did, a searing pain coursed through his shoulder. He grabbed for the source of the pain, finding that same arrow shaft still sticking out of his flesh and muscle. His fingers explored across the shaft a moment. There wasn't much blood, but the movement had caused the arrowhead to cut into his muscle again.

He turned his head and squinted past a blinding pain at the side of his skull that only seemed to intensify as he looked down the crooked trail, where he remembered last seeing Dizzy flee, the men in hot pursuit. He still heard Dizzy's screams in his head.

He began to pull himself into a stand, the pain only growing as he stood. His head especially hurt. But the pain of the aftereffects of the magic didn't matter. Dizzy did.

Ky stepped forward, feeling a bit lightheaded at first, but his vision quickly corrected itself. He cast his eyes down, watching the hoof prints left in the dirt. He followed them down a few meters until the prints became smeared into the dirt, with human footprints mixed in with it. He even saw Dizzy's prints there.

He quickly picked his head up and looked into the woods around him, looking for some sort of sign that she had escaped them. Hell, if she could defend herself against that woman in red, he knew she could defend herself against a gang of hunters. Or could she? They seemed rather organized.

It seemed as if they had been planning this. And he never caught on? He should have known. There were the signs!

A twig snapped in the woods at his side, quickly catching his attention. His heart raced, a bit of hope returning to him. "Dizzy?" He listened as it continued to move, but there was no answer. The movement didn't even sound bipedal after a short while. He felt his nerves find their edge again as he listened, even noticing a dark body moving. He thought it could just be a spirit, but then he saw it move closer, something obviously living.

By his surprise, he saw the dark body of his mare step out of the woods and walk to him. But Dizzy wasn't with her. That only meant one thing. She had been captured—or worse—

He sighed with a heaviness in his heart as the mare approached him, sniffing at his hands as he held them out to her. "You tried," he said to the mare. "You tried."

But did he try hard enough? Apparently not, otherwise Dizzy would have been safe. And it was all his fault.

Ky bunched his fist, knowing damn well he was capable of protecting her. He had done it when that woman in red showed her face, so why not now? How could he have failed?

He stared down the trail and let his eyes follow the tracks left behind. He knew they had been gone for at least a few hours. There was still a chance to find them, though, and save Dizzy before it was too late.

No, there wasn't going to be a too late. He wasn't going to fail her this time. He was going to prove that the Gear soldier in him wasn't dead and was willing to do just about anything to obey his new commander.

He snapped a hand to Nora's reins, making the mare jolt at the sudden movement as if she could sense the predator within him. He kept her under control, though, and vaulted himself onto her back, watching her ears twist and flicker nervously.

He booted Nora into a run, with a firm thump against her flanks. He held tight to the reins and pressed his legs against her sides as she galloped fast down the trail and back to the cabin. He didn't even pull her to a full stop by the time he reached it. He ran straight for the front door and for the wrapped sword above the mantle. He nearly leapt for it as he snagged it off the hooks holding the long weapon. His mind was in a jumbled madness as his hands unraveled its shroud.

Inside, he was screaming, his Gear soul was crying out for Dizzy. He could barely stand the separation, like a dog missing its owner. He could already feel the electricity working its way through his veins and nerves and felt his muscles tightening.

He turned his head towards the bedroom in the short hall by his right. He stared at it, as if feeling a calling inside the room. A soldier being called to arms.

He knew what he had to do now.

------

He followed the tracks out the Black Forest and onto a dirt road. There were times he thought he lost the tracks of the men, but he soon found them again, the same number, the same placed weight. One seemed heavier than the rest, and he recalled not seeing a heavy-set man within the group. They were mainly athletic and muscular. It suggested that one had Dizzy and was carrying her.

He stared down on the dirt road under him, the road that would lead him to the suspected town of Dizzy's kidnappers. He recalled passing through a town that followed the same road once before, a name he couldn't remember, or perhaps didn't care to remember. He had passed through it years ago before finding his way to the Black forest, but he never knew it would come back to haunt him. If he only knew a town like that harbored Gear hunters—

He licked his dry lips while his eyes were stiffly fixed to the ground like a submissive servant, but he was far from submissive. He wanted to kill, he wanted to feel that power that fled him ever since he put down his Furaiken. His grip around the reins creaked as his leather gloves squeezed them tightly at the mere thought of killing these people. He would even kill the whole town—

His eyes wandered off the road a moment as he noticed an ghostly image following him. When he turned his head, he saw a figure flanking him, an image he thought he would never see again, but then again, there is was in its resurrection. He stared at his reflection in the puddles of water left by the melting snow at the side of the road. The image never changed. The black Holy Order uniform still held its powerful grace, his face and body barely aged, as if time had never moved for him over the years. The shoulders held their firm shape from the armor under it, the skirt fell flawlessly past his waist, not a wrinkle or flaw despite being hidden away in a box. The gold of his gauntlets, cross and boots stood out from its black contrast as if it had never been used in war. There was not a smudge of dirt or blood on it. It looked the day he first got it. Stolen.

The image brought a grin to his face, remembering the power the outfit brought to him. Without it, he looked merely like a simple man with strange eyes, but with it against his body, he was someone important, even though it was a big lie.

Oh, he couldn't wait. He couldn't wait to see the looks on the townspeople's faces. The great return of a retired Knight—but this was the resurrection of something much more darker.

------

He arrived to the small town by morning, and when he stepped through the gates, it was like stepping back into the Crusades. The people stopped to stare at him as he passed by, a mounted Knight decked in full glory and attire. He held his back straight, the reins held properly in front of his legs like an experienced rider, his head set forward. His skirt was draped behind him and spread across Nora's back. His sword hung at his right side, ready to strike anyone who approached him the wrong way. His hand was itching, but he had to keep up the masquerade. He knew the rules.

He listened to the whispers and mumbling as they watched him ride slowly down the road through their town. The tracks he had been following had disappeared in the chaos and traffic of the little town, covered by footprints, tire marks and scars in the road. But he knew they ended here. She was here somewhere.

He saw some of them coming out of their homes just to look at him. He saw a couple of women with tears in their eyes, and children too young to remember asked who he was. It wasn't too long before they began stepping into the road towards him.

He pulled Nora to a stop and watched as they came closer, but not too close, as if he were a truly sacred thing. His eyes grazed across each face before he spoke. "Where is the Gear?"

They looked just as stupid as most villagers he came across. They looked amongst each other and whispered like before, but this time, he heard the word Gear in their conversations.

"What Gear?" he then heard one woman say.

"There's a Gear being held here," he said. "Now someone tell me where it is."

The crowd went silent a long moment. He only heard a few light whispers.

"The hunters might know," a young man finally said, breaking the awkward silence. Ky squinted through the crowd trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. But then he spotted a face that matched the voice. A young man possibly in his late teens stepped out of the crowd and towards Ky's side. He looked just a couple of years younger than his own face.

"Hunters," he repeated, then licked his dry lips. "Where are they?"

The boy pointed down the road. "You can find them on the southern part of town. It's not too far. Evan Redd is the leader. If you can track one of them down, then you might be able to find out about this Gear."

"Even Redd," he said, musing over the name "I'll remember that name." He looked down on the boy, his face solid and emotionless. "Take me there."

"Sir?"

"I said take me there. Didn't you understand me? I'm sure it would be honorable if you could." He passed him one of his famous fake smiles.

The boy placed a hand at the back of his head, a few fingers scratching his scalp. He looked up at him while a flattered smile upon his face and Ky couldn't have sworn he saw the boy blushing. "Really? Sure! Sure! I'll take you there!" He waved him on as he made a path through the crowd before he lead the way down the road.

------

Something laying in the middle of the road caught his attention, something so minute, so insignificant by the causal eye, he nearly overlooked it. But when he finally brought himself to look at it again, Ky jerked back on the reins suddenly, making Nora rear her head back at the sudden command of her rider. There on the ground laid a small white object, appearing to be nothing but a particle of litter to the unpassionate eye, yet upon closer inspection, he saw it was a white feather. Nora had almost stepped on it. He quickly jumped down off the mare and pushed her over before she could. He picked the delicate feather up between his fingers. He stared at it as he slowly rotated it, studying the feather at all angles.

"Dizzy."

It had to have been Dizzy's. It was too big—and too well groomed to belong to any ordinary bird from around here. Besides, he had never seen a white-feathered bird in this area before. He wasn't going to take it as a coincidence.

He stroked the feather between his fingers before he concealed it in his pants pocket.

"She's here somewhere," he muttered to himself as he looked around.

"Did you say something?" his guide asked after a moment as he watched him. The boy had his back to him, but noticed he had stopped and gotten off his horse.

Ky picked his head up and shook his head. "Nothing. Keep going." He took Nora by the reins again, his other hand clutching Furaiken, and followed the boy again. He caught up to his side, but not too close.

As they walked, he noticed the boy look over his shoulder at him a few times. He had seen that look before. Ky tried to avoid his glances.

"May I ask you a personal question?" the boy asked.

May I ask you a personal question normally meant, May I ask you a stupid question?

"How personal are you trying to get?" Ky asked him in return.

"Your eyes," the boy said. "How did you get eyes like—"

"Don't mind the eyes," he quickly said.

"But they—"

"Don't mind the eyes," he said again.

Thankfully, the boy didn't ask another question. They kept going, all the while Ky still felt the astonished stares of the townspeople on him as they passed. He did his best to keep his head down, his eyes under his hair and followed the boy. They managed to keep him away from any large crowd and to their destination point.

He lead him to a two-story wooden house that looked more than it seemed. There was something about the charming house he didn't like, something he couldn't place right away. It felt like a bad vibe, an instinct calling to him.

He stood there, looking up at the house while the boy who guided him walked up to the front door and rapped his knuckles against it. There wasn't an immediate answer, leaving the two to wait patiently outside.

Ky watched the amber windows and noticed some shifting shadows past the curtains. Ky stuck his hands into his pockets and looked down, idly toeing at the ground while the boy knocked again. He felt his fingers graze against the feather inside his pants pocket, and just as he remembered putting it there, he noticed another on the ground by his feet. This one was smaller. His eyes widened when he saw it.

Then, the door finally opened, but it didn't sway Ky's attention from the white feather on the ground.

"A Holy Knight to see you," his guide said.

Ky kept his head down and attention on the feather while he listened to a pair of heavy boots begin to approach him. He watched as the small feather twitched from the light breeze that brushed up against it, threatening to steal the evidence away from him. He knelt down and picked it up. He didn't dare to twirl this one like he did the other, fearing it would ruin the fragile feather.

"Something catch your attention, sir Knight?"

That voice. Ky had heard it before. It was the hunter who had commanded the boy to strike him in the forest. His eyes widened but he didn't pull his head up yet. Even though he felt such rage, he couldn't give himself away, not in this position. He needed to face his enemy.

He felt his face rush hot and even the corner of his lips twitched. He kept his body from snapping upwards or to show the tenseness in his muscles under his uniform. He kept his eyes on the soft feather between his fingers before he slowly rose to his feet. He kept his head ducked, a fine curtain of mahogany in his face to further conceal his identity.

"What brings you here?"

He caught him dipping down, trying to steal a glance of his face. That was when Ky finally picked his head up and stared into the man's face with his devilish eyes. The man jerked back and gasped when he saw them, unable to tear his own eyes from his familiar face.

"You know damn well what brings me here," Ky snarled. He then lunged forward, grabbing the man by the throat. He forced him back until he pinned him beside the open door. He listened with delight as the man's back collided into the wall with a loud and dull thud. He held him there with his left hand. He kept his grip tight, but not too tight to restrict the airflow to his brain. He needed his brain to tell him where Dizzy was.

Ky was surprisingly able to hold his own with the bigger man, even with one hand, although his arm strained. The man in front of him had a ridged, rugged face, a face he could never forget. His skin was tanned and weathered. His hair was an autumn red, much lighter than Ky's, and even the short beard hanging on his chin and sides of his face was the same shade. He looked like someone with an Scottish descent. He had that old Scotsman build to him. Ky looked nothing but a fresh-faced kid compared to him.

"Hey, what's going on?" the boy said as he watched aside. "What's he done?"

Ky ignored the pest and kept his eyes on the red-haired hunter. He slowly raised his Furaiken and brought the long red blade to the man's thick neck, beginning to press it against his exposed flesh. "Where is she?" he growled through his teeth, then shouted, "Tell me she's alive!"

He felt the man swallow, then answer, "She's here."

Then, Ky picked his head up after catching a movement at the corner of his eye. He saw the light from the open door interrupted by the bodies of men as they approached, alerted by his own shouting. He got a brief glimpse inside the house. The den was lit with an illusion of warmth inside, its walls made of polished and stained wood. But it was decorated with grotesque things. He saw shined weapons like axes and swords, but what made his stomach churn was one of the trophy heads mounted on the wall. It wasn't some trophy buck, but a Gear. Ky stared at it, his mouth gaped. He began to lower his arm and loosen his grip around the man's neck.

This wasn't a home but the hunter's station. He had been brought to a place where men plotted, killed and mounted Gear bodies parts like prizes of their great hunt.

Did this mean Dizzy would be their next?

Ky's attention was finally brought back when he saw the group of men running towards him to save their leader. The pounding of their boots made him snap back.

"Evan, what's going on?" one of them said.

The man turned his head slightly towards them. "It's the Gear! It's the Gear! He's come for her!"

The men stopped and stared at him a moment, dressed in a Holy Knights uniform. It almost seemed as if they couldn't remember him at first, but soon, they did.

They suddenly rushed at him, all four of them. Their many hands grabbed for him, even past the blade of his Furaiken as he began to raise it to defend himself.

They grabbed him by the shoulders first. One took him by the arm to keep his sword under control. He growled as he was torn away, with his left hand to vainly grapple at the air. He kept his burning eyes on the one called Evan. His feet struggled to keep the ground under him as the men pushed him away from their leader.

He watched as Evan peeled himself from the wall and bolted to the boy who had guided him. "Ring the bells!"

The boy seemed stunned by his command, and stammered, "B-but we haven't used t-them in y-years."

Evan then pointed his meaty finger back to Ky again. "He's a Gear! You let a Gear in here! Now get someone to guard the posts and ring the damn bells!"

The boy obeyed. He backed up first, staring at the fight a moment before he turned around and ran out of sight.

Ky felt the weight of the men heavier on him, as if one of them were climbing on his light body. His muscles screamed and he felt his knees beginning to buckle. His shoulder hurt and his head was beginning to pound again. He would have swung Furaiken to get them off, but one was holding his sword arm back. His biceps strained to swing forward, but another grabbed his arm as if sensing he was about to strike.

After sending the guide away, Evan turned towards Ky as he men held him. Their eyes met. The hunter's eyes seemed cold and gray. The man walked up to him until they were face to face. All Ky had to do was free a hand and he would have him again.

"It looks like we have two Gears now," he said, grinning.

Ky spat at his face. "Fuck you! You haven't captured both of us."

The man laughed as he wiped his face with the side of his hand. "You're a stupid Gear. What do you think is happening right now?"

"I'm escaping," Ky said, then passed him a wolfish grin.

The man sneered at im. "What? Don't get cocky, Gear."

"Grab his sword," one shouted and went for Furaiken. Ky's grip around the handle instinctively locked. One put his hand on the handle beside his. Ky began to fight harder then. No one touched his sword and got away with it. No citizen were supposed to touch a Holy Knight's weapon.

If he had been a normal man, he would have surrendered by now, outnumbered and out muscled. But he had Gear and Kiske blood in him. He wouldn't give in. A Kiske and a Gear blended together never gave into the enemy.

He felt his veins and skin electrify. He let his magic flow into Furaiken. The one who had his hand on his sword got a jolt from it. The man gasped and stumbled backwards from the sudden charge that hit him.

Ky didn't stop there.

He grabbed the wrist of another hunter that had his hand around his arm. He sent a charge of his magic into the man's body that attacked his nerves and heart. The man dropped straight to the ground with a scream, curling himself into a fetal position. He was shaking.

He turned his head to the remaining man who had his filthy hands on his uniform. The instant he made eye contact with him, the man, who looked just a few years older than his own face, unlatched his hands from his shoulder and backed up, his palms out to him. His folding made Ky grin.

"Good," he said, then turned his head over his shoulder as he heard footsteps behind him. He saw one trying to sneak up behind him, possibly planning on jumping on him from behind.

No, that wasn't the plan.

By the time Ky saw the dagger in his hand, he swung, aiming for his throat. Ky ducked back, nearly feeling the air that followed his quick slice. He hadn't even been scratched, but he had been less than an inch away from it.

Too bad he was just using a blade.

Ky took a sidestep and circled his arm in the air in front of him quickly, then thrusted his hand through the circle his magic created. From his hand and out the center of the electric came a large arrow formed from his magic. "Sacred Edge!" The man across from him, who stood merely two steps away from him barely had a chance to react—or no chance at all. He watched how the arrow hit him, nearly exploding against his chest and sent him flying backwards into the ground. He slid a bit on his back.

"Gear!" Evan snapped at him.

Just as he wanted, it got his attention. Ky turned his head and stared at the red-haired man.

"You don't want me to kill them, do you?" Ky said.

Evan frowned.

"I'll call it off when you tell me where she is," he said. "And when you give her back to me, it'll be all over. Got it?"

"No deal," the man said.

"Then this isn't over. Don't be surprised if one of your men die." He grinned.

It was more than an empty threat. And Evan knew it. Well, if he didn't take him seriously. . . .

"If you even think about—"

Ky shook his head. "I'm not thinking about it," he said. "I plan on it."

He turned his eye at the corner where he noticed a movement by his feet. He looked down to see one of the men on the ground grab him by the boot. He seemed to be the only one ready to fight him again—besides Evan Redd, even if he had sent a couple of volts through him.

Ky merely grinned and threw his other boot into the man's face. He hit him with the back of his heel. Evan's eyes watched the act and began to step forward, as if he were about to attack him. Ky held a gloved hand out to halt him. "Tend to your men," he said. "After that, you come find me. We'll talk."

Ky then turned, bolting his way from the group that came uncomfortably close from capturing him. He saw the one he pounded into the ground with his Sacred Edge climb to his feet and attempted to stand in his way. The man's bravery was simply swiped away with a shove. The man collapsed back into the ground while Ky ran into the streets like a tomcat. He kept his legs going until he knew the hunters wouldn't follow.

They never did.

Ky finally wound down as he made his way into another alley. He stopped and leaned his back against the wall, meanwhile, he placed Furaiken's sinister tip to the ground. His heart still pounded and his nerves were still electrified. He massaged his gloved hands into one another to try to ease his magic. His fingers were cold but his palms were still heated.

Then, he heard the bells ring.

He tilted his head back and listened to their frantic warning. It echoed through the entire town. He hadn't heard the sound in years.