Ashkii Dighin- The Hunt for the Hypnotist

by Adam Lynch

  “A short lived glory, Spirit Hunters,” said a tall Sun-Shield, drawing out his sword as he approached them.

  “Wait, what is that?” asked a different soldier from the circle, pointing out the glowing phenomenon on Ashkii’s back. “Is that… the Spirit Bow?”

  “It matters not if he is the Spirit Gatherer,” proclaimed the tall Sun-Shield, hovering over Ashkii and Kel. “Because now he’s about to become history.”

  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a dog the size of three tigers jumped out of the forest and feasted on one of the surrounding soldiers. All adjacent soldiers to him were taken aback, every one of them raising their shields and spears.

  “Get in positions!” shouted the tall soldier. “Stick together!”

  Everyone reacted as fast as they could, but the dog was too fierce. It smacked soldiers aside individually, seemingly isolating them from ganging up on it. It was a ghastly dog, its body anorexic with shriveled fur. It had one eye of blazing green fire. It looked identical to the Black Shuck—but this one was white. A White Shuck?

  It killed quickly, feasting on one soldier to the next before they had even adjusted to the situation. Ashkii and Kel, centered in all the chaos, had nowhere to run—yet somehow they were still alive, even untouched. It was like they were invisible to the dog. The dog was even jumping over them. Evidently, it was dead-locked on killing every Sun-Shield, and only the Sun-Shields...

  The tall soldier, quickly becoming desperate, provoked the dog, pulling him away from his brothers. A noble effort, but the dog immediately overpowered him and gave him a warrior’s death. Their numbers rapidly decreasing, the remaining soldiers opted for a retreat, escaping before the White Shuck had finished its meal. Then, without even looking in Ashkii and Kel’s direction, the dog dashed back inside the dark forest.

  Immensely perplexed, Ashkii rose up, his head spinning in every direction. Kel rose with him. What had just happened? He asked himself. None of it made any sense.

  Then suddenly, his head stopped moving when he saw a young boy with purple eyes standing and staring straight at him at the foot of the forest. Another child?! Ashkii asked himself again. This was the third time he’d seen one of these children in the midst of a chaotic event. This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. They were following them—watching them; a cult that was serving the Hypnotist, their master.

  “Stop! You!” shouted Ashkii, his words barely uttered coherently as he sprang for the child at maximum acceleration. The boy, not budging at first, suddenly dashed inside the dark forest. It had almost seemed like he had disappeared, but Ashkii didn’t relent. This time, he was set on catching one of them if it was the last thing he did.

  “Ashkii, wait!” shouted Kel, almost desperate. “Don’t stray too far away from me.”

  Yet Ashkii, infused with adrenaline, ignored her, tracking the boy’s direction until he caught him back in his sights. When he did, he sprinted full throttle, his eyes peeled.

  “Ashkii! Ashkii!” Kel called his name in repetition, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He was in focused pursuit of his suspect. Trampling the crunching snow, he brushed aside the leaves and bushes smacking his face, his eyes still locked on his target. His heart pulsated, panting, shooting his arms back and forth against his ribs.

  Catching up to him, he was almost within a leap’s grasp, but then the child veered sharply off the path. Ashkii reacted almost as quickly, turning in the direction the child should have been, but wasn’t. He’d lost sight of him. Where did he go?

  He resorted back to tracking. Yet... oddly… the tracks weren’t there. What? Impossible, he thought. What was he? Some sort of celestial being? A ghost?

  Still, he had to have gone this way…

  Pursuing the path and searching diligently for tracks, Ashkii saw a clearing past the dense trees, bushes, and darkness ahead. As he slowly navigated past it, Kel caught up to him. Upon detecting her, he gestured her to keep silent as he cautiously brushed aside the forest veil towards the clearing.

  But what he saw in the clearing was not what he had expected.

  He saw bodies with roped necks hanging from an oak tree, others tied to upside down wooden crosses. The bodies were burned, skinned, and had had their eyes gouged out. Close to the oak tree was a shrine that displayed the victim’s ears, eyes, fingers, toes, and organ offerings to a statue that looked demonic. It was a ritual. It had happened recently—overnight. Though barely distinguishable, Ashkii recognized the victims as Sun-Shields, Spirit Hunters, and even a few Winterians—likely White-Bloods. No doubt about it. These were the prisoners of Oztior’s tower that had escaped.

  Then suddenly, the area thickened with darkness. The distance fogged with mist. And every area that Ashkii’s head had turned was made to appear identical. Several haunting cackles sounded simultaneously, echoing from the forest near and far. Where were they coming from?

  Anywhere and everywhere. Ashkii and Kel had been enraptured into their world, trapped inside their marble of illusion. Ashkii couldn’t sense how far they were and in what direction they were coming, but he knew that they were.

  “The Sisters of the Red Blood...” Ashkii spoke aloud, gazing around him.

  “Have they come to avenge Oztior, their pupil?” asked Kel.

  Ashkii hadn’t answered, his mind focused on the scene.

  Then suddenly, Kel snatched his hand. “Follow me, Ashkii,” she said. “I know the way.

  And know it she did. The further they traveled, the more reality had unveiled itself. Senses were gradually returning. The cackles were sounding farther and farther behind. Kel’s immunity to illusions was guiding them towards the straight and narrow path.

  Suddenly, the cackling ceased. Their ears heard nothing now but the sound of panting and crunching of snow. Yet, Kel insisted her lead, gripping his hand tighter than he’d gripped hers. It wasn’t over yet. The coven was still within their midst.

  Suddenly, a large thorn shot out of nowhere, skinning Kel’s side, staggering her. Then another shot out, Ashkii seeing it and deflecting it on time. Then another followed, Ashkii foreseeing that as well.

  “This way,” said Kel, pulling him, a few limps to start her off.

  More thorns were projected their way, but the accuracy of the thorns hitting them was gradually diminishing. The farther Kel had pulled their bodies away, the seemingly less visible they were becoming to the coven. Ashkii’s theory was proved true when he saw thorns now being projected in other directions from where he and Kel were present.

  Sprinting swiftly, Kel stopped them abruptly, walling herself and Ashkii against a pine tree.

  “What is it?” Ashkii asked, Kel not answering, a tad anxious.

  To get his answer, he sharpened his hearing: Soft presses in the snow. He and Kel were no longer alone—not anymore.

  Ashkii peered over the bark to confirm his suspicions. There they were. Ghoulish hags—shriveled skin, maggots crawling out of their big noses, lips and teeth nonexistent, rags as apparel, torn hats, lifeless hair, rotting finger nails, and vacant eye sockets. They were ghastlier than ghosts, breaths as loud and attention gathering as their revolting stench. Even from afar, they smelled like rotten cheese on dead rats, wet dog, and feces covered rags left to dry. It was so unbearable that Kel had to cuff her mouth from gagging or vomiting.

  It had seemed that the coven had lost sight of them and was now searching for them on foot in the perimeter that they were expecting them to pass.

  Backs bent and heads low, Ashkii and Kel scurried past them. So far, Ashkii had counted five in all. Each one was spread far from the other, covering a wide range of the area. This was good, but Ashkii had remembered reading that there were six in total...

  Suddenly from beyond past a large pine tree, A blaring breath sounded. Startled, Kel and Ashkii crept low behind a thick bush, hiding there until the witch was seen from behind the tree and had passed it. Hawking over the perimeter, her pace was that of a snail, every breath so forced it had sounded like h
er last.

  Hearts beating fast, Ashkii and Kel had no choice but to wait patiently for the witch to pass. For a moment, she stopped as if noticing something, facing Ashkii and Kel’s direction a long time. But then she aimed forward, snailing on with her search.

  That made six by Ashkii’s count. With all the witches of the coven located and identified, he knew that this one was assigned at the edge of the perimeter. Sneaking past her, they were out of the coven’s circle—being the first victims to have ever escaped the Sisters of the Red Blood.

  Yce Glacis

  They paced for miles before Kel assured them that they were far outside the coven’s marble. It was times like these when Ashkii realized how fortunate he was to have Kel and her abilities by his side. How many times had her powers saved them from the attacks of the Hypnotist? Evidence and suspicion of its activity had appeared near them on several occasions… like the children with the purple eyes for instance…

  Strolling aimlessly through the forest, Kel stopped suddenly, lifting her tunic to check on the grazed wound that she had received from the coven’s thorns. She began treating it to stop the bleeding—Ashkii had almost forgotten to ask if she was okay. Though he saw that she was, he still felt compelled to inquire about it anyway. “Are you okay?” he brought himself to ask.

  She looked up and seemed pleased to have gotten his attention. “I’m okay, she said, looking back at the wound, sucking in her tight abdomen. “It’s just a graze wound.”

  “Let’s keep moving then.” At this, he focused his attention forward. Kel caught up to him after finishing treating her wound and fastening her apparel.

  “So things got a little chaotic back there...” Kel brought up suddenly, looking to Ashkii for his thoughts.

  Ashkii nodded, glancing left and right anxiously. “Yes,” he said. “I have so many questions.”

  “Share them with me.”

  “The White Shuck that had attacked the Sun-Shields—why hadn’t it attacked us? It was like we were invisible to it.”

  “That’s true...”

  “And the child with the purple eyes… again one was present… again one got away...”

  “Yes, and led us into a trap.”

  Ashkii stopped to ponder that. “You think that’s what he was doing?”

  “That’s where we lost him wasn’t it?”

  But it didn’t add up in Askii’s mind. Just after he saw a child in the dungeon he and Kel were set free. There was certainly a pattern among these children, but leading him and Kel into traps wasn’t it. “No, there’s something else,” he said. “There’s something we’re missing. The children—they’re always present during exciting events. And during these exciting events, some unanswered phenomenon occurs. The first time I spotted a child was in the tavern, right before Rolf had suddenly regained his memory of whatever he was going to tell us before the assassin had struck. The second time was in the dungeon, right before the blackout happened. The third time was in Oztior’s chambers—after discovering that the Hypnotist had initially intended to hide that incident using illusions. And the fourth time was by the dark forest, right after the White Shuck had appeared out of nowhere conveniently, killing our enemies, seemingly freeing us from captivity, and then disappearing back in the forest like it all had never happened. It seems more likely that the children are helping us somehow—helping us along our journey. But with what? What is their motive? And why do they run away? Their activity always seems to center around the Hypnotist’s, but are they on the same agenda as the Hypnotist? I can’t decipher. But then again, what is the Hypnotist’s agenda exactly? What does the Hypnotist want? What do the children want? Are they working together? How are they connected? These are the questions I need answered before I can begin to understand anything. We need to catch a child and question him or her.”

  “You think one will appear again?”

  “I’m sure one will.”

  “What of the Sisters of the Red-Blood? Any thoughts on them?”

  “You mean whether they should be suspects?”

  “I don’t know. I want to hear your thoughts about them.”

  “The Sisters of the Red-Blood have been around for a long time, but the murders with the mark of the Hypnotist have only begun recently. They have trained Oztior as their pupil—who then became the founder of the Red-Blood curse. Winteria grows in power and strength the more they feed on others, and they capture beings with exceptional abilities, experimenting on them, and then harvesting their abilities to become their own. They’ve helped raise an immortal hybrid king, an impenetrable lord that is Rolf Valentine, and a regenerative moon that fuels Salem’s blood inside all who carry it inside them. The Sisters of the Red-Blood are the most powerful unnatural sorcerers in all of Seasons. They exercise a wide array of witchcraft, including hypnosis and illusions. They command beasts, soldiers trained in weaponry, assassins trained in the poisoning arts, sorcery, large armies, and influence. However, it doesn’t make sense for them to be the Hypnotist, because the sisters had suffered the same loss as the other regions; and like the other regions, they have retaliated accordingly. Like for instance, when the prisoners have escaped before Oztior’s death. It was clear that his death was caused by the Hypnotist, but since nobody knows who the Hypnotist is, the Sisters have held the prisoners responsible.”

  “So you don’t suspect them?”

  “They’re on the list in case I learn more, but as of now, they are not my prime suspects. We can sit around and theorize about the Hypnotist’s identity all day, but to be sure of anything, we need a good lead. If the Hypnotist won’t leave around any evidence for us, then supernatural means are necessary. The Chalice of Prophecy will reveal something we can use. We need only to find the dragon.”

  “And come up with a strategy to defeat him.”

  “We will defeat him. You can be sure about that.”

  Shortly after ending their conversation and strolling silently through the forest, Ashkii uncovered consistent signs of hunting activity. There were roughly buried footprints, holes in trees where misfired arrows were shot, the blood of animals masked by leaves and snow—some of it splattered on the bark of trees—and torn pieces of a cloak hung from branches.

  “What are you on to? Found something?” Kel inquired, noticing his immersion.

  “There’s a settlement nearby.”

  “On the mountains deep in this dark forest?”

  “Perhaps a camp of soldiers from the opposing regions.”

  “Are we headed towards it?”

  “The camp will have a map that may tell us where the council members and their dragon are located.”

  Ashkii found another torn piece of a cloak caught in the bushes. He knelt down to observe it, but then something caught his peripheral. He looked up, but the figure disappeared from behind the forestry. He saw him for less than half a second, but the one thing that he had processed of the figure was his pale skin…

  “What? What is it?” Kel asked, noticing his distraction.

  His eyes peeled—focused on where he last saw him—he rose slowly… then stopped when he suddenly heard the sound of several stressed bows.

  “Don’t move, Spirit Hunters,” a voice directed, Kel holding her breath as she froze.

  “In this order, you are to toss to the side your quiver of arrows, then your knives, and then your bows. Understood?”

  “I can’t,” said Ashkii.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Well of course he can’t,” said another more lively voice suddenly, approaching from behind. “Open your eyes, you old coots. This is the Spirit Gatherer. The Spirit Gatherer cannot be removed of the Spirit Bow once he’s touched it—they become one of the same… or perhaps—as I’ve always liked to believe—they always were the same. As everything has a time and place, I believe that this man and the Spirit Bow were always meant to be as one. Now put down your weapons. These are our friends.”

  At his command, they relaxed their arms,
sheathing the arrows. Ashkii and Kel rose up, turning to face the mysterious warriors behind them. They had pale skin, white hair, yellow-colored eyes, and were dressed in cloaks, tunics, leggings, and leather armor. Ashkii recognized the man with the lively voice in front of him. He’d seen him before. White-Bloods. These were the rebels who’d been imprisoned with them back at Oztior’s dungeon. This was the man he spoke with there.

  He smiled when Ashkii made eye contact with him, giving off that same warm glow he’d remembered seeing from him for the first time—though this time he was skeptical of it. “It’s great we meet again, Spirit Gatherer—you and your companion. It’s great you’re both alive and well.”

  Ashkii hadn’t responded, studying his intent. But the man only chuckled. “What are you staring at? We are not your enemies. We fight only the Red-Bloods, or any who attack us.”

  “Then we’re free to go?” he asked.

  “You are... but I was hoping you’d stay and maybe help us with something. Perhaps we can find a way to serve each other’s interests.”

  “What could we offer you?” asked Kel, becoming interested.

  “Well first let’s understand each other a bit better. We haven’t introduced ourselves yet.” He extended his hand. “I am Yce Glacis, leader of the White-Blood rebellion.”

  “Greetings, I am Kelanassa Kaliete,” Kel said first, Yce shifting to shake her hand first and then back to Ashkii, Yce’s eyebrows lifting.

  Ashkii delayed, but then opted in. “Ashkii Dighin,” he said.

  Yce nodded, grinning, intrigued. “Very interesting… that name means sacred child, holy child in your cultural language. Did you know that? Seems you were destined to be the Spirit Gatherer after all.”