Legend of Fire: Book 1 of the Alrymnian Chronicles

Chapter 3: Looking for Help [Kaitlyn]

After everything that's happened lately, I figured that writing some of this stuff down might help me to make sense of things. Looking back, it's almost unbelievable just how quickly things have changed.

However, I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Kaitlyn Sigenfire, although if you're actually reading this, you probably already know that. Anyway, the trouble started shortly after Raynen got back from Tyler's farm. I'd been outside at the time, gathering a few medicinal herbs for when my brother next got into trouble, and as expected I didn't have long to wait. A little discussion revealed that whatever job Tyler had tricked my brother into had a catch, and probably a very dangerous one. Considering that this was the third time this kind of thing had happened, I wasn't exactly surprised. Anyway, once he'd finished dodging my questions to the best of his ability, Raynen retreated upstairs, leaving me alone and slightly frustrated.

Don't get me wrong, I know my brother means well and that he's good at what he does, but he refuses to run away from any sort of challenge, regardless of the danger involved. He also tries to keep me from worrying by not telling me about his more dangerous exploits, which would almost be understandable if he didn't get himself into trouble on a regular basis. I know there's not much I can do about it, but I'd rather know what he's up against than be left in the dark. After the bandit incident last winter I'd resorted to putting a tracking gem on his jacket, just in case I ever needed to direct some help his way. Sure, it frustrated him to no end when I asked some of the other hunters to help him out, but I'd rather wound his pride than let him run some of those risks alone.  

Over the next few hours, I'd occasionally glance at the trackpad while doing various tasks to make sure Raynen hadn't tried sneaking out without my knowledge. However, to my surprise the pad reported that he was still inside, likely still looking for whatever the beast was. Deciding to give him a hand, I walked up to what had once been Uncle Mark's room, but since repurposed into a library of sorts. Recalling his sudden death five years ago, I sighed. Our uncle had been the one to raise us for most of our lives, after all, and regardless of how much time had passed, my brother and I still missed him. In fact, he was the one to inspire my brother to become a hunter in the first place, and Raynen still used most of my uncle's gear. 

Shaking myself free of those memories, I entered the room to find it completely empty. Checking the trackpad in bewilderment, it reported that the gem was right next to me... still attached to the jacket that Raynen had carelessly discarded before leaving. 

"Oh come on. Today of all days he decides not to wear the blasted jacket?", I muttered, looking through the books he'd displaced. 

Upon spying "Tales from the Unification War" left open, I frowned. Sure, the book was one of my favorites, but Raynen didn't exactly care for "ancient history" as he put it, so why was he reading it in the first place? After spending a few minutes looking through the other books he'd left out, I realized that each and every last book focused on the various abominations that appeared in the Unification War some four hundred years ago. While that wasn't enough information to tell me what exactly he was hunting, it did tell me that my brother was in over his head. Running back downstairs, I grabbed my coinpurse and a few other things before heading for Denai. I knew what I was planning would frustrate Raynen to no end, but there was no way I was going to let him face that thing alone. 

Upon reaching Denai some twenty minutes later, the first thing I noticed was that the town gate, normally open at this time of day, was shut tightly. Sighing in annoyance, I took a moment to catch my breath and yelled up for the watchman. Somewhat to my surprise the person who answered was different from usual. Rather than being one of the local militia, the man wore the white and blue of the Alrymnian Guard, a crack squad of soldiers trained in the nation's capital and arguably the best ground troops on the continent.