WitchHunter ✔️

Loyalties

Hale

I know the instant the Ace catches up to us, and I allow my guard to lower. She trails behind us as we maneuver through the crowd, stopping every so often to speak to strangers. She's above us, and I know that even without the raucous laughter and roaring music, I wouldn't be able to hear her. Her silence is different from normal silence. It's powerful, has presence. It tugs at your edges. It pulls at me from behind, up on the rooftops.

A big mug of what looks like hard whiskey is shoved into my hand, sloshing out cold over my fingers. "Thank you." I say, but I cant locate the source of the beverage. Someone nearby laughs loudly, and another bumps into Cozen. This town, from what I remember, used to be mostly quiet. There isn't a huge need for mainlanders to come to Haven, but the festival always drew in partygoers from all over Octaven. This year is no different. In fact, our town seems to be even more crowded this year than the last time I was able to experience it six years ago. Our return has brought on the hordes.

In front of us, a tall head sways toward us through the masses. I recognize Cruor's short, dark hair, and the golden hair and beard of Graham next to him. Cruor's eyes meet mine and he stops directly in front of me, his large form looming over the twins and I. He is absurdly large, approaching the 7 foot mark, a fact which contributed greatly to him getting the title of WitchHunter in the first place.

"Arsen." his deep voice says, the alcohol on his breath slurring the word.

"Cruor, Graham." I greet.

"The three of you are finally back. What took you so long?" His words are pleasant enough, but judging by his tone, he's just waiting for some sort of ammunition. He never did like me.

"Well, he hid pretty well. He was living in an old parish along the coast, not in town, so our information wasn't good. We managed to have him burn himself up last night and were able to get a full night of rest before returning this morning."

"It would have taken me a day, and I could have done it solo."

A chuckle escapes me. I haven't had nearly enough to drink for this. "Well Cruor, as Velius's future replacement, I need to get used to having men I can trust, and I need to be able to give clear orders. These two are my second in command, and I enjoy their company, so I prefer to keep them close."

A sneer leaps onto the bear-like man's face when I mention replacing Velius. "Velius is still young. He won't be replaced by anyone anytime soon, so why have you returned from Vetton?"

That question is tricky. The truth is, I don't know why the old man summoned me back. I'd only been in Vetton for 6 years, barely any time at all to build my city up. Velius's message was unexpected, and threw my town into a restless urgency. The twins are interchangeably my right and left hand men, and I wasn't leaving them behind, so I had to rush the promotion of my head WitchHunter, Reddon to take my position, forgoing the entire Purging Ceremony of burning the town in the wake of the WitchMaster. As of yet, Velius hasn't told me the reason for the hurried summons. "Velius sent for my return. I go where he needs me."

"So you're just a dog, doing his bidding, never questioning-"

"Hold your tongue, Cruor." Candor steps in front of me, dangerously close to the slightly taller man. "Keep in mind you're speaking to the future WitchMaster of Kindleridge. Your future WitchMaster."

Cruor sneers down at my best friend, then brings his eyes up to me as a malicious grin forms on his lips. "How cute. The dog has dogs."

"Cruor." Graham warns next to him.

"You'll never replace Velius. I'll die before I ever see Hale Arsen leading Kindleridge. A dog will never rule over wolves."

A crowd has begun to form. The citizens don't need to see two Hunters bickering in the streets. We don't need to be showing the cracks in the foundation. "Cruor, if I'm a dog, then you're nothing more than a sewer rat. When I become WitchMaster, I will be happy to kill you myself. Until then, you may want to consider accepting your position as lesser than all three of us." I brushed past him. "Even lesser than a slave girl."

A grin finds its way onto my face. I wonder if he knows his ranking compared to the Ace. It's clear that Velius values her above everyone else. How much will that fact affect the angry man behind me?

The answer comes in the form of a punch to the back of my head. I stumble forward, not expecting the attack or the sudden pain that accompanies it. I wheel around, Cozy, Candor, and Graham already restraining him, Cozy doing most of the work.

The crowd has suddenly dispersed, civs giving us the side eye as they pass. I stalk forward and snatch Cruor's stubble covered jaw in my hand, giving it a hard squeeze. "Now you listen here, Cruor, and you listen good. The only reason I'm not about to throw you into Vjengardta is because you are clearly drunk off your ass. Get back to Fortress right now or so help me, I will all but remove you from the organization altogether. And you," I shift my eyes to Graham. "You will chaperone him there. Do you understand me, Hunter?"

"Yes, Sir." Graham replies, locking the taller man in an armbar. I step out of the way to let them pass, shaking my head.

"You good?" Cozen asks, watching them wade through the crowd.

"It's not like I've never been punched before." I press my palm against the tender spot at the base of my skull.

"Not by a friendly, or at least someone who's meant to be."

I look between the two men, both taller than I am. I clearly don't have Cruor's respect. What about the others? I was gone for six years. The others matured a lot in that time, grew closer, formed alliances. How am I going to one day lead them if they have no trust in me? This ever present doubt begins to creep its way up my neck and behind my eyes.

Candor's hand lands heavily on my shoulder. "Don't let him get to you. You're going to be the best WitchMaster Haven has ever seen.

I smile up at my best friend, his single hand shoving away all my doubt. "You're damn right I will."