Chapter Seven

Cold Winds of Vengeance

JANUS

"It'd better be as good as you say it is," Hansel warned. "Coz if the Syndicate ain't have no jobs for us to earn our keep, I'm gonna be real pissed."

"What do we still need jobs for?" Gretel argued. "We're already rich from all the gold Anna promised to pay us with. We've just got to go back and collect on it at the end of the war and we're set for life."

"Eh." he shrugged. "Maybe I just like the thrill of the hunt."

Janus ignored the Witch Hunters, their voices nothing more than a faint buzz in the background as Janus watched the boat draw nearer to the port of Bruvesqk. Never had he thought that he would be back here again. After he'd failed to save Winter's life, he'd vowed never to come back to Bruvesqk or anywhere near the region. He hadn't wanted a reminder of his failure to save one of the only people he'd ever cared about, but then again, here he was.

Snow falling from the sky, he stared emotionlessly at the city that loomed nearer by the minute. Only one idea burned within him, the only thing that'd echoed in the deep, dark recesses of his mind. Vengeance. A return to the old ways. The only thing that would take his mind off everything he'd been through over the past few years was ironically the one thing that'd kickstarted everything. If he was to ever move on with his life and forget the past, he had to cast off the last few years of conflict, emotion and hurt and return to where it all started. Where it feels right.

"We are here," the ferryman reported, expertly steering the boat to a halt by one of the long piers.

Silently, Janus reached into his shirt pocket and fished out a stack of notes. He pressed it into the man's hand and slung his backpack over his shoulder, climbing onto the pier slicked with seawater. The cold winds of vengeance blew at his back, almost like they were heralding the return of the city's dark archer.

Janus took in the sights of the city as the Witch Hunters disembarked and followed him along the pier. It hadn't changed in the years since he'd first left to become Ingrid Grendstav's personal assassin for the League. Fishermen still yelled at one another on the pier, shaking their fists with nets full of rubbish and gesturing rudely. The merchants still dealt in corruption, smuggling illegal goods in bright daylight. A trafficker further down the coast was making a deal with a criminal, showing off the women he had in his boat. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. There was the rest of the whole damn city that was diseased.

"Janus," Gretel called out to him.

He turned, looking at her with his one remaining eye as she caught up with him.

"Are you sure it's absolutely necessary to come back here?" Gretel said in a low voice. "I know it's your hometown and all, but…"

"It looks worse than the last time we were here. One look and anyone can tell it's a shithole." Hansel said nonchalantly. "You never bothered to mention why we ought to come back, but I think we have a right to know."

"All you need to know is you'll get plenty of work with the Syndicate," Janus answered.

"And what's in it for you?" Hansel probed. "I know it's your hometown and all, but seriously? There's plenty of work in other parts of the world. Why come back to this shithole?"

Janus whirled round. "What does it matter to you as long as you get paid?"

"It's not just that," Gretel said. "We're not stone cold killers out just for money."

Hansel rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself. I am a stone cold killer."

"We care about you too." Gretel said, ignoring her brother.

"I don't need your sympathy," Janus growled. "Keep it professional, do your jobs and get wasted with your bounty. We're here to work, not be best friends."

Gretel's expression hardened and her mouth formed into a thin line, her eyes growing cold. "Suit yourself," she gestured ahead of them. "Lead the way, then."

Narrowing his one good eye, he turned and continued down the pier towards the rubbish-littered coast. He couldn't find it in himself to tell them the truth. The truth that the war, the demon assassins, the Last Emperor…it'd shaken him up good.

All of it had made him see that he didn't belong in that world. A world where sorcerers and their magic was the only way to survive. A world where his skills were largely irrelevant compared to what the Mage Slayers and the League of Sorcerers could do. A world where if he stayed, he would end up with more than one eye gone. Where he would end up hurting those close to him, just like he'd done when he allowed himself to be captured and turned against his friends and the Equalitar.

Most of all, he'd hurt Elsa in a moment of fury, and that shook him to the core. As hurt and angry as he was, he should never have hurt her. A man like himself didn't deserve her. She deserved someone better. Someone who wasn't filled with such darkness, trauma and vengeance.

Once past the coast, the trio arrived in the city, which truth be told, looked even worse up close. The buildings were old and dilapidated, with chipped off paint and broken bricks missing from the walls. Many of the windows were boarded up, with some not bothering to replace the broken glass where a rock had likely been hurled through. The streets were unpaved, with potholes decorating the roads. In this snowy weather, a hackney cab's wheels were likely to get caught in one of those potholes and an accident was bound to occur. Not that it mattered to the governor who ran the city. The pavements were no better, with litter, rubbish and broken glass strewn everywhere.

People still went about their daily business, perhaps because it was still daytime. Some had set up carts in the streets, shouting for the attention of passersby. Children clad in torn clothes played in the streets, blissfully ignorant of the horrible state they were living in. Dark clouds hung overhead and lightning streaked across the sky as snow continued to descend upon the city.

"I take it back. Bruvesqk's a nice town," Hansel commented as he rubbed his gloves together. "Nice and full of crime, last I remembered, which means lots of job opportunities. You know the best bar around here?"

Janus ignored him as he watched a drunk man drag his kid back into a house by the scruff of his neck, the boy kicking and screaming.

"Best bar in town? Hello?" Hansel persisted. "Last time we were here we didn't stay long enough to find the good ones. I haven't had a decent drink since we left the Coalition behind. I knew I should've snagged a bottle or two from the inventory before we left."

Janus scanned the skies. It would be dark soon, darker than it already was anyhow, which meant they ought to get to his old safe house - one that he'd left behind years ago. He hoped that it was still intact.

An hour was all it took to make a trip across the city to the safe house, one which - to Janus' relief - was still untouched. The downside? It was dusty, smelled stale and had cobwebs everywhere. But at least, they wouldn't be disturbed here, in an abandoned industrial building long forgotten by the corporations and unions that ran this city into the ground.

"So this was your old base of operations." Hansel looked around as they set down their backpacks. "Back then, I always imagined the great Prometheus had a cool hideout. Got to admit, I'm a little let down."

"Not all of us can afford a palace." Janus slammed his backpack onto his old table, raising a thick cloud of dust.

"So what first?" Gretel asked, waving away the dust.

"Preferably some good dinner. I miss hot food," Hansel rambled on as he unpacked his gear. "And good beer of course, not the rotten piss those Imperials drink. My god. When we were in Exon before the war broke out, I almost spat my drink all over a local's bald head when I tasted what passed for alcohol in that city."

Janus pulled out his mercenary gear and placed it on the table. Sword, bow and quiver, various pellets, belt, armoured jacket, gauntlets…He lifted his mask out of his pack and stared at it. He didn't know whether it was the instrument of his salvation or his damnation. But it didn't matter. It would serve its purpose to conceal who he really was, so that he could once again become Bruvesqk's greatest mercenary and strike fear into the hearts of his prey.

"You think they will remember you?" Gretel asked as she laid her bandolier on the table and began stocking it with her weapons. "You've been away for a long time."

"I don't care whether they remember me," Janus said darkly. "I'm not here to be famous like the Warriors or the heroes of the Coalition. I'm here to kill in this damn city and get paid doing it."

Hansel clicked his tongue. "Someone's moodier than usual. So, you gonna stop brooding and show us a good place to get dinner? I'm feeling like some beef stew's in order."

Janus stopped lacing up his boots and glanced out of the broken window. It was already dark. Good. He continued donning his mercenary gear. "There's a place three blocks down the road. Serves half decent food and beer, and the live band there put on a good show, last I remembered. You'll be happy there."

"Sounds great." Hansel looked satisfied as a grin split across his face.

"And what about you?" Gretel asked.

Janus sheathed his sword on his belt. "Now that it's dark, I've got to make a house call."

"House call?" Hansel echoed, barking a laugh. "What, Prometheus actually has friends in the city?"

"I've been gone a long time," Janus tightened his bladed gauntlets and checked the quiver on his back. "The city may not be like it used to. We need fresh intelligence and the lay of the land."

"Now there's a dedicated mercenary if I ever saw one," Hansel remarked.

"We could get you some takeout," Gretel offered.

Janus shook his head as he snapped the mask into place and pulled the hood over his head. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," he brandished his bow in hand and made for the exit. "Don't wait up."

It'd been months since he'd donned the mask and hood and taken up the bow. It'd been even longer since he'd been on the hunt like this. Janus stood on one of the rooftops in the traders' district, a building which loomed taller than the others in the heart of the city. The snow fell lightly from the sky, and the clouds blotted out the moonlight apart from faint glimmers of light which weakly illuminated the dark town. The cold winds blew gently against the side of Janus' hooded head, bringing about a calm that he'd long forgotten existed.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt the way he did now. At peace. His mind sharp and senses dialled up to eleven as he prowled the rooftops. Towering above everything else illuminated by the weak moonlight and feeling the power of owning the night. Back when he'd established his presence in Bruvesqk, he'd been the city's most feared mercenary. He'd held power for the first time in his life after being subjugated since birth to jailers, torturers and mentors. He'd been free to forge his own destiny, to be feared by his prey. To be the hunter, a knight of the shadows.

That feeling had faded after being hired by Ingrid Grendstav to be her personal assassin alongside the League of Sorcerers. And then when he'd met Elsa again in Exon, he thought he'd found his true purpose. At least, he had thought so at the time. And then came the long winter campaign, and through it all, he'd stuck by the Warriors as one of their own. But had he really been one of them at all? He didn't know. At his root, he was still a cold-hearted killer. And as for Elsa…His face hardened beneath his mask. He didn't want to think about her. Not anymore.

All that mattered now was that he was far from the war. Here, there was no Empire, no sorcerers or demons or goddamn immortal emperors. Here, there was only the night, the shadows and the hunt. He was home, where he was supposed to be. Where he was the king of the hill, the apex predator at the top of the mountain. Not a small fry desperately trying to stay alive in the midst of a war between sorcerers and demons. No. He was back to do the one thing he knew he'd always been good at.

Perched at the edge of the rooftop, Janus continued to survey the streets below him. They were empty because everyone knew the criminals came out to play at night when the dirty cops were off duty and didn't give a shit about the city they were supposed to protect.

He could feel the fear in the air, as the common citizens waited in anticipation for something to go wrong. The Bruvesqkans lived in fear, ruled by the crime lords and corrupt politicians. This was something that needed to change, and coming back to Bruvesqk was the first step in the right direction. He was going to clean up this city, and make some profit along the way.

At that very moment, something stirred within him and the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. A warning. Spinning, he simultaneously nocked an arrow and drew the moment he turned to face whatever was stalking him.

"You." He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you following me?"

Gretel shrugged as she stepped out of the shadows. "Maybe I thought you needed backup. Or maybe I thought you needed company."

He returned the arrow to his quiver. "I didn't need either."

"You brooding alone while we enjoyed dinner down at the diner didn't sit well with me." Gretel said. "Come with me. We just arrived in Bruvesqk. Take the night off and give yourself a break. Please."

"How long have you been following me?"

Gretel sighed. "Since the start."

"Must be losing my touch," Janus muttered in vexation. He never would've let down his guard a few years ago. Being with the Warriors had made him too trusting. Too soft. "And Hansel?"

Gretel scoffed. "Figured his stomach was more important. Promised to get some takeout for you on the way back though. And likely more for himself, the greedy fool."

"Go join your brother, Gretel." Janus turned back to the streets. "I don't need you here."

"Nice way of showing your gratitude." Gretel walked up to him noiselessly - no wonder he hadn't heard her at all. "I know you only see us as partners, but even then partners look out for each other."

"I've been doing this alone long before I met any of you."

"I could say the same about us. But if we're going to work together, think of it as a professional courtesy."

Janus turned to look sidelong at her. The Witch Hunter's face was set in stone, a look of determination meeting his own gaze. A determination that mirrored his own.

"At least you're good at sticking to the shadows," he relented. "I could use that."

"Good." Gretel stared out at the city in front of them. "So this is your idea of reconnaissance?"

"Just wanted a minute to survey the streets before heading across town to meet my contact, but it's all quiet." Janus rose from his crouched position. "Let's move."

"Wait," Gretel said sharply, pointing to the street at the periphery of his vision. "I see something."

Janus glanced in the direction she was pointing. In a gap between two buildings, a man was roughly forcing a young boy out of the door, the boy's hands pinned behind his back and a knife pressed against his side. "Good spot," he said as he nocked an arrow. Where they were wasn't that far off from where the man and the boy was.

He aimed and shot the arrow towards the side of the building, and a titanium cable flew out with it. The arrow embedded itself in the brick, and Janus firmly anchored the other end to the rooftop. Slamming a foot to wedge the anchor deeper, he hooked his bow onto the titanium cable.

"Wait," Gretel said. "What about-"

Janus stepped off the ledge and zipped down across the yawning gap between the buildings, descending towards street level at breakneck speed. As he neared the ground, he unhooked his bow from the line and fell the rest of the way. The moment his feet touched the ground, he shot an arrow at the man's hand, knocking the blade free and eliciting a yelp of shock.

"What the hell?" the man panicked as he got a good look at Janus. "Prometheus? I thought you were gone!"

"You have one chance to step away from the kid." In a flash, he aimed another arrow at the man's forehead. "Take it."

The man grabbed the struggling boy and placed his hands around his neck. "No, you get away from me!" he shouted in terror. "Or you'll have a dead kid on your hands!"

Janus watched the man's posture for any telltale signs. There was nothing but fear in his eyes and the realisation that he'd screwed up big time. His hands trembled as they gripped the boy's scrawny throat.

"I'll do it!" the man warned. "Stay back! I'll kill him!"

"And you'll have no hostage," Janus said. "No one to keep me from breaking your bones one by one."

The man's eyes widened, immediately calling his bluff.

"Screw this," he roughly pushed the boy towards Janus and hurtled into the building.

Janus caught the boy before he could fall and got a good look at him. The boy looked like he wasn't older than eight, with dark wide eyes and a soot-stained face wet with frightened tears. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Stay away from me!" The boy shrieked as he scrambled away from Janus.

"Hey, it's alright!" Gretel suddenly came from behind Janus' back and took the boy by the shoulders. She knelt down so that she was level with him. "It's alright. We're not going to hurt you."

The boy visibly calmed down at Gretel's words, though still breathing hard and fast as he stared at Janus with fear in his eyes.

"Stay with the kid," Janus told her. "I'm going in after him."

He darted into the building and was plunged into darkness. He stood still, straining his ears to pick up any hints as to where the man had escaped to. In this moment, he wished he still had the supernatural sensory abilities Tracy's spell had granted him during the Siege of Steinfall. But even without it, he knew he could still find the man.

His good eye adjusted quickly to the dark and he saw that he was in a run-down apartment block, with the lower level of the building being empty and completely devoid of furniture as though it'd been readied for renovation but abandoned.

Noises came from deeper within the building. Footfalls pattering against the concrete ground, and rapid panting. Narrowing his eyes, Janus moved towards the source of the sounds. The man had no idea he'd just boxed himself in. The breathing grew louder as Janus closed the distance.

"Shit, shit, shit," the man cursed in undertones, wielding a shard of glass with a trembling hand. "I thought he was gone."

Janus pounced, tackling the man to the ground in an instant and twisted the shard out of his grip. Before he could even react, Janus stabbed the point of the glass through his palm and a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the building.

He cut the man off mid-scream with a knee on his throat. "What were you doing with the boy?"

"I…I was taking him to…" the man stuttered. "No, no, Zedrek will kill me if I talk!"

Janus twisted the glass embedded in the man's palm. "He's not here. I am."

"Stop! I'll…I'll tell you. Just stop!" the man whimpered. "Zedrek runs a trafficking business. I was taking the boy to him."

"You bastard," Janus growled, pressing his knee deeper against the man's throat.

"I swear I didn't want to hurt the kid! I was just following orders! Honest!" the man rasped.

"I believe you." Janus let his knee up a little so that the man could breathe. "But it's not going to save you."

"Don't kill me! Please!" the man cowered.

Janus leaned in close. "I'm not going to kill you. Not today. I want you to tell Zedrek and all your friends."

"Tell them? Tell them what?"

"To be afraid." Janus slammed his knee into the man's nose, snapping his head back into the concrete. "Because I'm coming for all of you."

Author's Commentary:

I feel like when we met Janus in Book 2 (The League of Sorcerers), we've already seen Janus grow into a man who's not truly alone. He's a teacher, and also a leader, albeit dark and on the wrong side of things.

Which is why after being with him all the way till now, I wanted to regress his character to what he used to be when he first began his crusade as a mercenary. A lone wolf, cruel, unkind and full of rage (and full of annoyance having to deal with the two Witch Hunters who would not leave him alone). The only difference is that now he's had a wealth of experience, but he's returning to his roots as a darker, more violent version of himself.

If nothing else, it makes him relatable. Sometimes, we think we've grown past a certain stage. Yet, we find ourselves regressing back to what we used to be. That's just human nature. And that's what Janus is finding himself in.