DragonFire

Chapter 7 - Kharn

Kharn stood alone. His back was beginning to ache, and his feet were starting to swell. He waited patiently for the sound of his target, but all he could hear was the sound of birds. He was armed with a long bow, his pride and joy. He smirked as he remembered how he got it, the man never realized it was missing.

The forest around him was peaceful. The trees and plants made vibrant walls of green on either side of the muddy brown path, and the moisture in the air created rainbows in every shadow. He watched as a bug slithered from under a leaf, only to be devoured by a bird seconds later.

Then he heard it. Barely audiable on the wind, the sound of fire and pain. The plan was in motion, and any moment now he would have to stop enjoying nature, and start doing his job. Suddenly, the birds stopped chirping, the insects stopped clicking. A panicked woman was running through the underbrush, snapping twigs and pushing through the foliage.

With a sigh, he knocked an arrow to his bow and listened. He could hear the ragged breath of the woman, she was getting late in her years. He could tell by the weight of her feet, and the sound in her throat. Closing his eyes, he used his senses to find his target. He let lose his arrow, and grimaced when he heard the woman give a startled scream and fall to the ground.

That's one.

He could smell the smoke now. Just above the horizon was the growing darkness of ash from burning souls. A cart was approaching from around the bend. He calmly knocked an arrow to his bow, and waited. Seconds later, the cart being pulled by a moa came in to view. It stopped moving as the driver saw the lone man blocking his path.

"Please!" The man called. "Please, you must help me!"

Kharn hesitated. Maybe it was the terror in the man's eyes, he didn't know.

"There are men, people burning down my village. They're murdering everyone. You must help us."

Kharn gritted his teeth and let fly his arrow. The man was dead before he realised what was happening.

That's two.

Kharn threw the body off to the side of the road, and rested on the drivers seat. He waited for a few hours for more survivors to struggle past, but he was convinced that there were no more after he had claimed his fourth.
By then he was sure that the others had finished with the village, and let escape those who they wanted to escape. Now it was his turn to play the part of a refugee, and spread the word of what had happened.

He pulled on the reins and steered the cart towards the city. The moa was just as old and fat as the previous driver. It struggled against its harness, and pushed the cart forward along the road.

He leaned back and whistled a tune. Soon the forest isle began to clear as he approached the Guardian Stones. They loomed on the edge of the cliff, and guarded the bridge connecting the forest isle to Pa. Statues of the ancient Kings were carved into the face of the stones. The coarse white surface captured the light from the Core, and seemed to glow from within. A line of traffic waited to cross the narrow stone bridge, to enter the city. He cut into the queue and smiled at the angry driver behind him. The city Guardians rode on the backs of the Haast eagles, scanning the ground for trouble.

As he began to cross the bridge, he made the mistake of looking down. Below him was a void of dark, a blackness that extended further than the eye could see. There were some small isles below him that he doubted anyone without an eagle could reach. Maybe the Prince could, he was supposed to be powerful. Soon he was under the heavy gates, and a pair of guards approached him

"Name?" One said impatiently.

"Da-Davis" He lied. "My n-name is Davis, son of Oen."

"What business do you have in this city?" The guard asked.

"P-please sirs." He stammered. "M-my home was attacked by a D-Dragon, I'm here to f-find my uncle."

"So you're a refugee?" The guard asked. When Kharn didn't reply, the second guard grabbed the Moa's reigns and steered the cart towards a new line filled with other ragged looking people.

"Take this and hand it to the man at the front of the line." The second guard said as he handed him a piece of paper. "Next!"

Kharn looked around to make sure no one was watching, before he slipped off his cart and sneaked past the guards. With his hood to cover his face, he made his way into the city.

People were everywhere. Vendors desperately tried to sell their goods to passerby's, and whole families sat begging, homeless on the street. He saw a boy, no older than ten, and the boy saw him. He approached Kharn with open hands, malnourished and dirty. Without saying anything, Kharn pushed past.

The rendezvous was in the slums, a part of the city so shrouded in crime, not even the eagles could see through the haze. The guardians rarely patrolled the streets, which made it the perfect breeding place for  violence. Kharn was a Wanted. He was in one of the biggest groups of organized crime in the entire Kingdom. In every city, the Wanted were regarded with fear. There was no doubt as to who truly governed the streets and they didn't wear a crown. 

The Wanted had found him in his time of need, shortly after his father's passing on Vulca and his mother's unfortunate end. He was a lost child with nothing to his name. Had they not found him, he would likely be dead. It was because of their generosity, their selfless act, that earned them his loyalty. That loyalty ran thicker than any blood. 

The rendezvous was deserted. The dirty cobble streets were littered with rodents, and cobwebs lined the dark, stained walls. On one of the walls was a symbol carved with chalk. The three arrows in the shape of a 'W' - the symbol of his people. He cursed at what it meant, he had missed the others.
He followed his instructions and made his way to the Wanted headquarters, it was a long walk from the rendezvous. A girl came running past, and he felt her hand in his pocket. He calmly caught her little wrist, and pulled her to him. He could see the fear in her eyes.

"Never pick a thief's pockets." Kharn said calmly.

She nodded furiously, and pulled against his grip. He let her go, and she quickly ran around a corner. Headquarters was a little souvenir shop owned and run by his people. It had a tunnel to a sealed off section of the sewers in the back. He met no resistance as he walked through the shop and entered the tunnel, but there was no doubt that he was being watched.

Once in the Sewers, he nodded to a few people and found his chambers. On his bed, a woman was waiting. He did not recognize her. She had long dark hair that fell before her green eyes.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"That doesn't matter." She said.

There was a length of silence before he tried again.

"I completed my assignment." He said.

"Did you kill anyone?" She asked.

"Yes, four." He said.

Getting nowhere, he decided to wait for her to start. After a while, she sighed heavily, and rested against the wall.

"The Prince has ordered for the creation of  a new order of warriors. Are you aware?" She asked.

"I am." He replied, hesitantly. "I believe it has been dubbed the Hunters."

"Your next assignment is to be employed into that order, where you are to evaluate and asses everything. Gather information, report it back. Understand?"

"Yes. I understand." He said.

"Good. You leave tomorrow."