Forgotten prophecy

Chapter 72

"That's him?" The lack of enthusiasm in the young demigod garbed in red gear could not have been plainer. He slowly lowered the binoculars from his eyes and looked down from where he sat in the tree, down to where Orion stood with his arms folded leaning against the trunk of the same tree. "The one you constantly speak about? The one who made it through Tartarus on his own?"

"Yes, Dante." Orion said tiredly, annoyed with the lack of trust in the demigod's voice. Dante leapt lightly down from the branch and floated lazily down to earth. He touched down lightly, his descent far slower than it should have been. His divine parent was a bit of a personal mystery to Orion as, to the best of his knowledge, none of the many gods he knew spawned demigods who had the ability to manipulate the gravity around them. "He is the one I have told all of you about."

Arrayed before Orion was a group of demigods, all of them garbed in red hunting gear slightly similar to the clothing that the Hunters of Artemis wore. Slightly. Those who served Artemis wore clothing that was made to provide ease of movement. Their clothing did very little in the way of protecting their flesh, favoring speed over defense, and that was the principal defense between them. The red armor was clearly designed for battle, the material thicker than that of which the Hunters wore. The sleeves had been cut off however, allowing the demigods to use their weapons with far more ease. Their weapons were another major difference between the two groups. Whereas the Hunters of Artemis all gravitated towards long knives or bows like their patron, the demigods in red possessed a myriad of weapons. The last difference between the two groups was obvious. The Hunters of Artemis were female. Orion smiled as he looked over his group. His Hunters were all male.

"He doesn't look like much." One of them said bluntly, glowering in the general direction of the camp. It was not hard to see the animosity dancing behind his eyes, nor was it hard for Orion to understand it. His Hunters were all forgotten demigods, ones whom the camps had not found and brought to them. Down to the last of the boys standing before him, they had each learned to survive on their own. They had stolen, scavenged, and fought for everything they had. Monsters had forced them to flee their homes lest their loved ones be pulled into their own misery. They had lived on the streets, or places like it, doing whatever they could to survive. Warriors, each and every one of them, and battle-hardened ones at that. When Orion had first begun to recruit them, it had not been easy. They mistrusted him instantly, and for good reason, and because of that wariness each one of them took time to convince to join his hunt. But the prospect of a better life is one that not many people, especially those with so little such as them, could hope to refuse.

They had not been easy to find, even for one such as Orion who had hunted and tracked prey for centuries. But years of fending off monsters had taught them to not leave so much as a trace of their presence. Many of them had been just as wild as Ryker had, some potentially even more so. Their independence had presented a challenge for Orion, one that he had not foreseen. They did not wish to follow any orders other than their own, and each demigod expected the others to follow their own command. The solution was fairly obvious to Orion; he needed a second in command. They followed his orders, only barely sometimes but they did, but he knew that he would not be able to be with them at all times. It had taken Orion less than a second to think of who he would take as his second in command. Though he had not started his own group of Hunters yet, Ryker had been the first demigod who had fought alongside him.

He had been there to witness Ryker's return from Tartarus, leading the army of demigods behind him. His Hunters had been there as well and Orion was sure that he had seen grudging respect on their eyes as they beheld Ryker for the first time. Unfortunately, that respect had quickly turned to scorn and contempt after he was so quickly dispatched by the Corrupted version of himself. Orion had brought his bow up without truly thinking about the consequences and had launched his volley of arrows just as quickly. But the damage had been done, and now it had just gotten worse. His Hunters had been watching the camp for several days and their opinion of Ryker had dropped quickly, especially after they had heard rumors about him being felled by a Hunter of Artemis in a single blow.