Dawn of the Hunters

by Ryan Wieser

  “But you knew I was different—we spoke of it, before I left with Falco.”

  He gestured to Falco for his arm, and Falco immediately helped the elder to his feet. Jessop felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t stand to see him appear so aged. He moved to a small chair, Falco hovering beside him to help him should he need it.

  “Yes, I sensed you were different. But I didn’t know how—none of us knew, not then. You had our eyes and we had no reason to think you were of Bakora lineage. I wondered if perhaps you would be like Trax, my own son, born to learn the ways of the Hunter. And when you began to learn so quickly from Falco, I believed that was all there was to it.”

  She could feel herself slowly calming down. She had no reason to think Dezane would lie about what he did or didn’t know of her as a child. He was right—she had shown no Bakora characteristics. She wasn’t sure she even knew of any, aside from the Fire-Wielding. “I am a grown woman, Dezane, well over two decades—how is it the Fire didn’t come to me until now?”

  He sighed heavily, his dark shoulder lowering slowly. “I am not an elder of Bakoran, Jessop. I don’t know how these things work.”

  She was ready to leave him in peace when he spoke again.

  “Falco didn’t let you burn that day, but I imagine if he had, your Bakoran abilities would have come to life and saved you. Hydo thought you’d died. You two fled to Aranthol ...You associated the flames with the worst day of your life. I imagine you inadvertently suppressed your own abilities for all these years.”

  Jessop looked between Dezane and Falco. The elder’s words, as always, seemed to make the most sense. Part of Jessop felt removed from the situation, as though they discussed another woman’s power and history, and not her own. “And do you think the abilities finally came forth because…”

  “Yes, because Jeco was taken. A part of you knew you had more power to tap into.”

  She stared at the elder. She wouldn’t lose it now, not again, not when they were so close—she had fought for her sanity tooth and nail as they had crossed Haren’dul Daku.

  “I cannot use the Fire on Fire-Wielders though; it will not help us kill Hydo,” she explained.

  “No, but this might.”

  The voice of Trax DeHawn startled them all. Jessop spun around and saw him standing behind her. He wore his Hunter’s leather. His golden eyes glowed with warmth. She should have sensed him. He was the most loyal of Hunters, and her true friend. He had come to her in her time of great need. Like Dezane and Urdo. Like a brother would.

  She looked down to see what he held out in his hand—a blade, wrapped in leathers and cloth. He used his spare hand to pull back the material, and revealed the hilt, covered in glistening white stones. She had only ever seen one like it before. She could feel the inverted F scar tingling in her palm.

  She looked from the weapon to her Hunter brother. “You brought us the Blade of Light.”

  Jessop outstretched her hand, her fingers hovering over the hilt, when she froze. She recoiled slowly, and stepped away from Trax, turning to Falco. “He who wields the Blade of Light, the weapon of the last Daharian Prince, used to fight back the Fire-Wielders, is the rightful ruler of Daharia.”

  Falco was leaning against a beam in the tent wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His gaze flicked over the blade and returned to Jessop. Before any could speak, the tent flapped open once again.

  “Does anyone—Trax? Brother, you’re here?” Kohl’s voice trailed off as he saw what Trax held out. They all knew who the blade belonged to. Jessop knew he had never wielded the weapon—none of them had. They had taken the Glass Blade and secured the sword, but in the time since, Falco had had no opportunity to take the blade in his hand, as was typically done at the ceremony of the new Lord Protector.

  Falco crossed the space with easy, confident strides. He kept his eyes on Trax as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Brother,” he smiled.

  Trax inclined his head slightly. “Brother.”

  Slowly, his gray eyes turned to the brilliant white-stone hilt. Jessop knew what the blade should mean to Falco. It was his rightful weapon and it reflected all that they had worked for, all that he was destined for. Trax moved his hands forward, offering the weapon to Falco. Falco’s hand reached for the hilt. Jessop realized suddenly that she was holding her breath. She looked to Kohl, he appeared to be doing the same, with his eyes fixed on Falco.

  As Falco’s strong hand wrapped around the hilt, Trax pulled the material back, gracefully revealing the shining blade. It glistened beautifully, and while perhaps it was blinding for a moment, it did not illuminate the room as it had the day of her initiation into the Hunters. She watched as Falco took a step forward. He cut through the air with the weapon, carving it around his body, slicing it in crescent formations around him. It moved with him as though it had been made for him.

  They all watched as he tested the blade, spinning in the confines of the tent, fighting invisible opponents—the weapon sung in his capable grip. It was obvious to them all and it didn’t need to be voiced—the Blade of Light was rightfully Falco’s.

  He made one final swipe through the air, spinning low and turning back to face them all. He rose, straightening his back out, and spun the weapon about, holding the blade instead of the hilt.

  “It’s just a sword. Perhaps the greatest sword ever made. But still, it is just a sword. And I don’t need it to prove I am the rightful Lord Protector. If you wish to fight with it, it’s yours.” He offered the hilt to Jessop.

  She felt their eyes on her, waiting to see how she would respond to his offer. She knew it wasn’t just a sword. It was his sword. And she knew whoever wielded it was seen as the rightful leader of Daharia. And Falco knew that too. He knew that if she fought with the Blade of Light against the Bakoran, many would think she was possibly the true leader. And he didn’t care. She smiled at him softly.

  She knew what he meant by the gesture. Daharia was hers if she wanted it. And in knowing he would give it up for her, she was more certain than ever that she didn’t wish for it. She wanted him. She wanted their son.

  She turned the hilt away. “The Blade is yours, as is Daharia.” She pushed the final thought into his mind: As am I.

  They all remained silent for a long minute until Kohl cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt but a Bakora messenger just appeared through a portal.”

  She took a step towards him. “Where is he? What did he say?”

  “He said to give this to the Fire-Wielder ...I’m guessing that just means you.”

  Jessop grabbed the paper quickly and unfolded it. She turned the page over, to ensure she wasn’t missing anything.

  Jessop, come speak with your family tonight. You know how. Octayn

  Jessop handed the letter to Falco. “It’s Octayn. Hydo’s Octayn ...She wants me to appear in her dreams.”

  * * * *

  The messenger had no further information. Kohl had searched his mind to confirm the man’s position and his claims that he was just a guard who knew nothing of Jeco. Jessop had spoken with Falco and the others for several hours, deliberating over Octayn’s request.

  “There’s nothing worth hearing,” Urdo had insisted, shaking his head over it. Jessop mostly agreed with him. If what Calis claimed was true, Octayn was only interested in her children if they were Fire-Wielders—she had abandoned Jessop and risked killing her. She had no desire to know the woman.

  “But if it is all true, you have brothers,” Trax had added. She had told them all of Calis visiting her dream and all he had claimed.

  “Even if they are your brothers, they helped abduct our son,” Falco added.

  “What if they offer to return him to you? Or explain why Hanson took him to them in the first place?” Dezane added.

  Jessop ran her hands over her face. She didn’t know. She didn’t know the answers, she didn�
��t understand the motives, and she knew nothing of these people or the validity of their claims. All she knew was that she needed to get Jeco back. And if speaking with Octayn could get her a step closer to that, then it would be done.

  “Remember, she can harm you in her dreams, Jessop,” Kohl added, his eyes darting over the snake-like scar on her arm.

  “I’ll go with you,” Falco added. They still didn’t understand how Falco could dream travel, but he could, and she wouldn’t refuse his offer.

  “That woman—she’s dangerous. More dangerous than Hydo, even. She has no regard for the sanctity of life, Jessop. You mustn’t be fooled by her or whatever she says,” Urdo warned.

  “I have no interest in anything she says except the location of my son. I will not fall for her sentiments, if she offers any.”

  “Then we go. Tonight,” Falco spoke, his voice filled with certainty.

  She took his hand in his, refusing to falter from her own claims—she wouldn’t listen to anything Octayn had to say. As a mother, Jessop knew there was no excuse for abandoning your child. Jeco had great powers already, but if he had none, she would have loved him in the exact same manner and measure. “Tonight.”

  * * * *

  Jessop wasn’t afraid. Fear was the emotion she was both least and most familiar with—it had eluded her for so many years only to strike her like a blow to the chest when Jeco had been taken. She did not fear harm to herself, she did not fear harm to Falco, for he was Falco, but she felt fear nonetheless. She thought that it was perhaps nerves, entering a dream world once again, preparing to meet Octayn and see Hydo and Calis once more. She truly hoped that she would discover the story Calis had told her had been a lie. She didn’t want to have brothers and she didn’t want to have any relation to Octayn Oredan. She had never thought she would feel such a way, but she prayed that her parents truly were the man and woman who had perished that day in the fire.

  She knew that Octayn. She knew Hoda. She knew them as her mother and father, two people who had loved her so greatly that they had died trying to keep her safe. She felt calm at the thought, and however sad it was, it gave her a sense of clarity. The two people who had loved her most, who had raised her, had not wanted her to go to Bakoran or have any connection with the true Octayn. That was information enough. She had trusted her parents. She had loved them, and they her. They had died to protect her from the Fire—they had died keeping her from Octayn Oredan.

  “They didn’t know you were a Fire-Wielder. It’s possible that what they did was out of love for you, not disdain for Octayn Oredan,” Falco spoke, listening in on her thoughts.

  “Even so. They died for me. They were my parents, you and Jeco are my family—that’s it.”

  “Jessop.”

  “That’s it, Falco.”

  They stared at one another in silence. She knew that as they seemed now they would appear in the dream—their clothing and their weapons. For that, Falco did not take the Blade of Light with them. They had discussed it and worried that, at best, it would detract from the point of the meeting, and, at worst, appear like an act of hostility.

  “How exactly is it a weapon against Fire-Wielders?” she had asked him as they stared at the shimmering blade.

  “I’ve never seen it in use,” Falco had said.

  They would leave the blade in the care of Urdo, as Kohl and Dezane watched over Mar’e. Trax would be waiting for Korend’a and Hode Avay to return. He had said the Blade was being well looked after by young Hunters and those who remained on the Assembly Council. They would return to a secure Azgul, he had promised. Jessop hadn’t the time to think about Azgul, the Blade, or how secure they were. She didn’t care.

  “Shall we?” Falco asked, taking her hands in his. She knew Urdo waited outside the tent, ready to come watch over them and the Blade of Light as soon as they passed into the dream. Jessop held tight to Falco’s hand as they rolled to the ground, lying side by side, facing one another.

  She stared at his beautiful face, his gray eyes. “I don’t know how to enter her dreams ...I don’t even know her.”

  “If what Calis said is true, you share blood with the woman. Focus on that connection,” he answered.

  Her heart was racing. She closed her eyes, squeezing Falco’s hand as tight as she could. She focused on her heartbeat. On Calis and all he had said. On the images of Octayn. She honed in on the woman’s face. She pictured her life, Calis’s childhood, the palace she had seen, what kind of upbringing she could have had—

  Jessop opened her eyes and found she was standing in the same grand room she had found Hydo in during her previous dream travel. Falco was at her side. And they were not alone. She gripped Falco’s hand tighter and he opened his eyes slowly. She felt him tense. Standing before them wasn’t just Octayn, but Hydo, Calis, and four other young men. All of them had green eyes. All of them stared at Jessop with narrow gazes, as though inspecting her.

  Octayn was as beautiful as she had appeared in the memories. She was more beautiful than Jessop, more beautiful than any woman Jessop had ever seen. Her eyes were a brilliant green, though they did not glow, and her long hair cascaded over her perfect form. She was dressed in all white and she smiled warmly at Jessop as she stood, her arms outstretched. “My daughter.”

  Jessop didn’t move. She dug her fingers into Falco’s hand, focusing on his presence, on their common goal of retrieving Jeco. “Where is my son?” she demanded.

  Octayn lowered her hands slowly, her smile faltering. “Safe. With his cousins—your brothers’ children.”

  At the word, Octayn drew her hand out to gesture to Calis and the four young men with him. Calis stepped forward slowly. “Jessop, I am glad you came.”

  She remained silent, though she could not help but study the men. The same men from the first dream Hydo had visited her in, they were tall and strong, with broad shoulders and muscular builds. Each of them carried the same silver metallic whip on their hips. One of the men stepped forward, perhaps the one closest in age to Jessop. He had Hydo’s dark hair. “Welcome, Sister, I am Taygen Jesuin.”

  Jessop bristled at the name. Jesuin. He—her potential brother—was a Jesuin. The next gestured to her with a small wave, “I am Mesan, born after Taygen. Welcome, Sister.”

  “Sister, I am Barone,” said the next.

  The youngest of the group kept his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Call me Axis.”

  Jessop tried to keep her focus on Hydo. She tried to fight her curiosity—but they looked like her. They called her sister and resembled her ...It was overwhelming. She was thankful for Falco when he took a small step forward, keeping her hand in his. “Where is my son, Hydo?”

  “So this is him,” Octayn spoke, a half-smile playing across her face as she looked Falco up and down. “Falco Bane. My daughter’s husband.” She took a step closer and Jessop thought her heart might explode if it beat any faster. She continued to look at Falco, as though more interested in him than anything else. “That’s quite the scar.”

  “Where’s my son, Octayn Oredan?” he demanded again.

  “I told you—safe, with his family.”

  Jessop couldn’t help but study her face. Her eyes. The way her mouth pulled into a reluctant smile when she spoke, giving her a wicked appearance. She stared back at Jessop with eyes so green they appeared supernatural.

  “I’ve wondered all these long years ...And when Hydo had said a woman had appeared in the Blade, with such skill and such beauty, I could barely dare to hope, to wonder, could it be—”

  “The child you nearly killed in a fire?” Jessop interrupted her. Her voice was strained and trembled with anger.

  “You’re one of us—the flames wouldn’t have killed you.”

  She resisted taking a step towards the woman. Her heart was pounding. Her skin felt alight. She could feel every set of eyes in the room on her. “You didn’t
know that. You thought I had died with my parents.”

  “Those guardians—Essa and Hoda? They were not your parents. I paid them to care for you.”

  Jessop’s cheek twitched. Essa. Her name had been Essa. She wanted to fight. She wanted to cry. “Whatever you claim, they loved me. They died for me.”

  “That’s true. They were so certain you hadn’t inherited my abilities, they wouldn’t let Hydo perform the test. Their deaths were no ones’ fault but their own.”

  Jessop leaned forward, her voice deep. “Do not speak of them further.”

  “Can’t you see? They didn’t know you. They never sensed your power. Not as I sense it. Not as we all, here, can sense it. You belonged with us.”

  “She belongs with me,” Falco interrupted, his deep voice carrying through the room.

  Octayn rounded on him, her blonde hair whipping about. “You. Falco, Falco, Falco. More powerful than them all—what do they say? You’re the ‘best there ever was’, correct?”

  Falco said nothing.

  “When Hydo told me of you ...we thought so many things. You’d be destined to challenge him for the Blade. You were stronger than any had anticipated. We wondered if we could bring you into our family, raise you as our own, but that just wouldn’t do, now would it?”

  She reached out to him, her hand falling just short of his face, her palm facing the ceiling. A small ball of fire erupted in her hand and danced about her fingers. “You have no Fire.”

  Falco’s face pulled into a small smile. “No, no Fire ...But I have your daughter, and I have Daharia.”

  Jessop felt her hand slick with sweat in Falco’s. She could hardly breathe. She could feel Calis’s eyes on her, she sensed he wanted to speak with her, but she couldn’t turn her gaze from Octayn and Falco.

  Octayn raised her brow sharply. “You have my daughter—I have your son.”

  It was all Jessop needed to hear in order to move. She ripped her hand from Falco’s and locked it around Octayn’s neck so quickly she knew she had instantly bruised the woman. Octayn hissed as her body erupted in a brilliant golden fire that traveled from her throat down Jessop’s arm.