Hellfury

Chapter 1: Cahir

Cahir knelt with his head bowed to the polished marble floor. He never really liked the castle, mainly because he heard his footsteps wherever he went and it drove him insane. He hated the constant chatter and the never-ending squawking of the seagulls near the coast.
He hated it so much he was pleased to leave, he had been so unbelievably content leaving Cintra behind to hunt the little Princess. He had been chasing her through most of the continent, desperate to finally bring her home to her rightful place by her father's side.

When Tissaia de Vries entered his head a year ago, all he thought about was the polished marble floors, how they shone when droplets of blood ran in streams from wounded bodies. He thought about how the blood dampened the sound of his footfalls when he made his way through the castle searching for the Princess.
Back then he had found himself longing for Cintra. He would do whatever it took to get back to the dreaded castle, he would do anything to return to the White Flame. He had not expected a warm welcome at all, he had expected to be put to death the moment he walked through the gates, but the Emperor had not yet arrived.

Cahir had breathed easier back then, knowing that Fringilla kept the order, that the elves were streaming in daily and that the elf queen would finally rally her forces and join the White Flame in the battle for the continent. He, who would save the world from the White Frost. Cahir had the utmost respect for the Emperor, and he had thought himself to be more than a pawn. He had been a Commander General, he had had power, position and a purpose-
    'Cahir!'
Cahir lifted his head to meet the harsh eyes of Emperor Emhyr var Emreis. The Emperor extended a hand and bid him rise.
   'Yes, my Lord?' Cahir kept his eyes firmly placed on the Emperor's neck. The last time he had kept eye contact he had ended up on the outskirts of Cintra, digging graves and spending his nights tending to reeking corpses. Even Gallatin knew he'd fucked up. Cahir had betrayed his Emperor, he had failed to do the one thing that was expected of him and he had paid for it. Dearly.
   'Know that it gave me no pleasure to punish you for your mistakes,' the Emperor began, and Cahir almost believed him. 'However, I have need of you now.'
Cahir looked at him then, trying to keep his shock concealed. He'd expected to be punished even more, not to be given an assignment so soon.

   'An assignment my Lord?' he questioned and moved his eyes back to the Emperor's neck.
The Emperor didn't answer, he just walked down from the dais where he had received him and began walking back and forth in front of the tall, stained-glass windows. The sun shining through them sent cascades of rippling lights washing over the marbled floors, and the Nilfgaardian emblem of the Great Sun was bathed in soft, shimmering light.
   'There is a rogue mage,' he began, balling one hand into a fist and placing it behind his back. 'She has been slaughtering and burning scouts I've been sending to Temeria. I had finally managed to convince King Foltest to think about my proposal, but my scouts never returned. Later, I was told most of them ended up in shallow graves in Aedirn, burnt to death.'
   'Did some of them reach Temeria, my Lord?' Cahir asked.
   'One or two, they were wounded and died within days, as of now, King Foltest is more likely to continue to support Aretuza and the elves than to ally with Nilfgaard. I need you to deal with this mage. I need you to find her, kill her and bring me her head,' the Emperor said, staring out of the window down into the courtyard. 'Anything you need will be at your disposal. I would prefer you to go alone and use your considerable tracking skills better this time. Should you need men I will send them.'
Cahir noticed the stress on the word and dropped his gaze. He had failed him. If he failed him again-

   'Yes, my Lord,' Cahir said and bowed his head. He was about to turn when the Emperor's hand locked around his elbow. He turned to meet the disappointed, furious gaze.
   'Do not fail me again. Come back without her head and I will take yours instead,' he said softly and let go of his arm.
   'Yes, my Lord.'