The Isles - Book One: Awakening

The Hunter

To the untrained ear, he might have passed by silently if he were more than only a few feet away. The padded feet of his mount were light, dropping to the ground like feathers, and the armor that he wore as well as the leather his lizard mount wore both bent and creased with each of their movement as if it had grown over their skins.

His lizard trotted along with him on top in an easy and swift gait, floating over the cobblestone lined streets of the city named Ardentis. Subterranean lizards were the mount of choice for hunters, assassins, and slave traders of the lesser races. With their sticky and soft feet, they were preferred just for the ability to move quickly in almost complete silence. And add that ability, with the ability to climb rocky surfaces, the ability to see in darkness, and their razor-sharp teeth, the lizard mount was a formidable enemy and an extraordinary tame.

Crossing hard ground, they left almost no tracks, they were perfect assassin mounts, and the lizard had an impeccable ability to smell. They could smell a single thing out of thousands of combined smells and follow it to the source. And as he moved through the city, people gave him odd looks, moving out of his way. He was a dark elf, the ebony-skinned cousin of high elves, the ones that were revered. Hated. But the job he had was perfect...

He was a hunter. But not a hunter of animals. No, no. He was a hunter of people. When slaves ran away from their master's by foot, he would take to his mount and track them. He would give them hope though, leaving them until midnight fell before beginning his pursuit. He was a Dark Elf, and like his mount, Dark Elves could see at night, like the many other dangerous species that came out at night. However, unlike the other creatures of the night, dark elves were empowered by the falling of the light and strengthened by the red moon above. Their counterparts—High Elves—were stronger during the day. Both elves were like two sides to the same coin.

There were few species that were stronger the Dark Elves at night, and the ones that were stronger were unimaginably so. Those such creatures looked down from the skies, seeing them as only ants from the moment of their birth.

The hunter's name was Labyrinth—named after the place from which Dark Elves resided, Labyrinthian, The Twisting Darkness. In all the world, there was no more important place to the Dark Elves. It was their calling—their religion—their home and the place where all of them hail from. It was an incessant pulling of hungering desire that created their religion and led them back to their home in The Twisting Darkness. A place where pain and pleasure mixed into an indistinguishable line and ambition for both overrode good sense and judgement, a place where compassion is thrown away in its face, all in the name of Ecthrosis, The Darkened Numen.

Not like any of that mattered in his situation currently as he looked at the employer of his next quest from only a few feet away—an old slave trader, wearing luxurious cloth and stunning jewels. There was a vile disgust that formed in the hunter's stomach that churned as he looked at the man. Dressed in the finest of things, but still too poor to care for his own hygiene. The man had mossy-green colored teeth with dull eyes that stared into him on stalk with ashen colored, bed-wrangled hair. Such a pathetic, fragile human was below him, but it was the gold in the man's pocket he was after. And he would find ways to take more and more from the old man that stood before him.

He stepped aside from the man, crept into the shadows of the cloth canopy that led into one of the old man's many tented 'markets.'

"Are you here for the bounty, or to make a purchase?" The old mans cracked and pale lips stretched into a crooked smile, revealing the chew he had in his mouth. A diabolical weed with hallucinogenic properties. The plant had stained his teeth a rotten green, the putrid color of mold. The hunter smiled, his white teeth and fangs glaring at the man who stared at him with curiosity and a knowing smile.

"Such a hideous smile you have, old man. Perhaps I should carve you a new one and take the bounty you placed on the girl's head?" the hunter responded. It was with little care that he spoke, there was nothing this vile man in front of him could do to him. Not a single soul in this town would seek him out, and if they did... the fate would be swift and merciless like the justice served to those in Labyrinthian.

"This was the collar of the girl. Her name is Eleanora. Bring her back alive." The man said, tossing the collar to the feet of the hunter's mount. The hunter scoffed, the shadows around him darkening only for a moment before shifting to normal. "Her body is still valuable enough... I can think of plenty of other uses for her."

"About my payment." The hunter spoke, less of a question and more of a demand for something from the man. And so was the way of the hunter, to demand more for accepting a 'dirty job.' The guild in the town refused to deal with bounties on runaway slaves and having him accept was a guaranteed recipe for success. He was the best in the city when it came to hunting runaway slaves.

"Yes, of course. You will be paid in full once the slave is back in my caring hands." The perverse old man spoke, looking at the dark elf with distaste.

The hunter smiled. The man before him held no social status worth noting, and if he were to vanish under the cover of the night, then not a single soul would search for him. Since he had entered this line of work, the hunter had learned to let no pity sink its way into his callous heart. But he was no bandit, he was higher than that. Better than that. And perhaps it was that alone that made him take to simply working as a bounty hunter.

"You will get your slave," the hunter promised calmly, a smile spreading onto his face as he looked. "But you know how this works, don't you?"

"Of course," the old man agreed with a sigh, clearly defeated. "This night, I presume?"

The hunter crossed his arms with a smile. There was no reason to even consider the question. Night work always paid more.

"As the final knot is sown," the hunter answered. "I will make sure she knows all hope of escape is lost."

End of Chapter 3: The Hunter 

A/N Thanks for viewing! Let me know how I'm doing!