by Joe Jackson
“Albrecht often mentioned your habit of understatement,” the woman chuckled darkly, still fighting tears at every mention of his name.
Lucille got up and placed the trophy on the fireplace mantel, and she hung Albrecht’s dog tags over it, to sit in the place of honor above the home’s hearth – or heart, more appropriately. Her boys wrapped her in hugs again as she cried there softly, and Kari moved over to add her comforting touch to the mix. She looked at her reflection in the mirror over the mantel, and was satisfied with what she saw. Not with a widowed woman, but with her efforts to make sure the Order did not forget the families of those it lost.
“So how did he win? And did he beat anyone I may have heard of?” Kari asked, trying to get everyone’s thoughts back on the triumphs of Albrecht’s career.
“Oh, he was always a cautious fighter, even when he was younger,” Lucille answered as she turned and made her way back to her seat. “Despite being in his early twenties, patience and a cool head won the day. I don’t remember many of the names of the warriors he defeated, but Torrie Cantabler was the one he bested in the final match.”
“He beat Torrie Cantabler?” the demonhunter balked. “Gods, and he never mentioned it to me? Sheesh, modesty has its place, but not when you pull off something like that…”
“He never bragged about it. I think he was afraid of insulting Torrie’s honor, but Torrie never seemed to care all that much. But once Torrie was…”
Kari reached over and laid her hand on the widow’s arm again. “I understand. I wish I could tell you Time heals all wounds or something profound, but frankly, that’s a bunch of crap. It took a long time before I could really even talk about Grakin’s death, even with my family, without feeling like I was imposing – or they were. All I can tell you, and I pray that it helps, is that you’re not alone, Albrecht will live forever in your heart, and you will see him again, Lucille. I promise you that.”
The widow smiled through her fresh tears. “And you would know, wouldn’t you?”
The demonhunter nodded and looked to the three boys trying to stand strong under the weight of the news and the sight of their mother’s grief. Mason was the one to find his voice first. “You killed the demons that did this, didn’t you?”
“They’re not demons, Mason,” Kari corrected. Perhaps it wasn’t the time or place, but if he was going to join the Order, he needed to learn how to contextualize his loss. “They’re just people from another world. It doesn’t take a demon to do evil, unfortunately, and that’s a lot of what you’ll learn when you undergo your training. But nearly all of those who attacked the city last night are dead, and my family and friends are in the process of going to strike back at the king who ordered the attack in the first place.”
“Tell them to carve my dad’s name in him,” the teen said, finally letting a few tears of his own run free.
“I will,” she said with a decisive nod.
If I don’t do it myself, she added in her head.
“Their day is coming, but we have a long, bloody road ahead of us,” Kari said. “That’s why you need to give careful consideration about following in your father’s footsteps. I may have killed several of Sekassus’ princes recently, but attacking the kings themselves? That’s going to be a longer-term goal, and one that won’t come easy.”
“You killed demon princes?” Mason asked, wide-eyed.
“Killed or had a hand in killing, yes. I’m up to five now, including his crown prince. Sekassus wasn’t the king that ordered the attack last night, but I sent them a message, I think.”
Lucille sighed, but it wasn’t one of disappointment or exasperation. “Albrecht always said you were going to change the world,” she said. “He just knew you were going to change the Order, and make it more than it’s ever been.” The widow met Kari’s gaze with strength and determination. “Know that he’s watching over you, Kari. And ever so proud. We all are.”
“It means a lot to me,” Kari returned. “And I’ll carry a part of his spirit with me; he’ll always be a part of the Order.”
The widow nodded, rose to her feet, and embraced Kari. “Thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to go. You have things you need to see to. Gods bless you, Karian Vanador.”
“As I said: Anything you need, just ask. Once I have a house again, its door will always be open to you and your boys.”
Kari left the home, and despite how uplifting the meeting had turned out, she found herself angry. She stuffed it down for the time being, though. She didn’t know if any of the three prisoners she was holding from last night had a hand in or anything to do with Lord Allerius’ death, but they were part of the attack force. Part of her wanted to take what vengeance she could on them, but such would go completely against her Order’s primary tenet.
Instead, she prayed not just for the safety of her friends and family, but that they might strike a vengeful blow upon Arku in some fashion.
*****
Kari sat at her desk, but found herself distracted again and again. The administrative building had been damaged during the attack, and hardly two minutes could pass before Kari would look up, reminded that Albrecht had died trying to escape it the night before. Kari’s office was largely untouched, but it stank of smoke and worse things. The only reason she had come here was to escape the constant scrutiny of her hunters. She had issued her orders, and everyone had a job to do. If they wanted her to stay among them and cheerlead, they were going to be sorely disappointed.
Before her, on the desk, sat all the paperwork Gil had delivered. There were eleven writs of execution, and Kari hadn’t even gotten beyond those yet. She didn’t recognize the names, but there was little mystery to that: If the Avatar of Vengeance had issued writs of execution against members of the Order, their names would have been stricken from the record as a matter of course. While there would still be confirmation that they had served the Order, any lists of their deeds or accomplishments would have been blotted out, erased alongside their very lives.
Kari didn’t remember Turik Jalar at all. She thought they had attended the Academy at the same time, but he had been at least a couple of years her senior, and they’d never interacted that she could recall. People often had a hard time believing that, but then Kari had to remind them that even if she had, Jalar would’ve been a cadet and nothing more; it wasn’t as if Kari had failed to notice the Avatar of Vengeance. She did, however, wonder what he was like, and whether they’d have gotten along if they’d been close during their training. Everything she’d read and heard about him pointed to him being a hardass, frankly, and that he’d run the Order much differently than Kari currently did.
Demons were far from the only ones who’d been afraid of Turik Jalar, and history made no secret of that. While Kari concentrated more on the Avatar portion of her title, Jalar had embodied the Vengeance part. While not regarded as a violent or nasty person, he had, by all accounts, put his heart and soul into the position once he’d attained it. Kari knew he had a wife and children, but if he had much else in the way of personal considerations while serving as Avatar, history said little of it.
What history spoke the most of, naturally, was the fact that he’d routinely gone to what was still called the underworld then: Mehr’Durillia. That was one thing Kari was truly looking forward to reading about, and not just out of curiosity. Just what was “Jalar’s Folly,” as King Emanitar had referred to it? Kari knew that Jalar had laid a list of demands at the feet of the Overking, but Kari still knew none of the details. She had forgotten about it when in the presence of King Koursturaux, so many more important matters shoving such concerns to the side, but now Kari really wanted to know.
Turik Jalar had gone to Mehr’Durillia many times, even if those visits had just been to the city of Anthraxis, and he dealt with the kings on their own turf. There had to be more to all of that than just his fearsome reputation, and Kari wanted to know what insights he might have left behind for one such as her to use to follow his lea
d. While she was having success treating with and against the kings, she could always use more help. If there was another way to set them at each other’s throats, Kari would take any help she could get.
But none of those were her immediate concern.
“What happened in the War of Purity, old friend?” Kari muttered.
She set the writs of execution aside; they weren’t going to be of importance unless she started investigating conspiracies. The other records were hopefully going to shed light on things, so Kari picked up the first of them reverently. It was unsealed, and it was apparent that Gil had already read through it, as was the case for some of them, but not all.
I returned from my latest visit to Anthraxis to find that several of my subordinates took my Order to war. Something is not right with this; I was given no indication that anything was wrong by the Unyielding. Even in the depths of Mehr’Durillia and the black city that scars its center, I have never felt apart from my deity. Why, then, was I given no warning that my Order was committing an atrocity in my absence?
I cannot understand the logic at all, myself. Surely the appearance of this “cousin” race of ours, the seterra-rir, came at a strange time and place, and in a strange manner. But the supposition that they were some nefarious creation of Seril’s seemed laughable. I made my feelings and my orders quite clear: Those people were to be left alone until such time as their place in Gori Sensullu’s plan became apparent.
And yet, I returned to find them gone, wiped out. And so I have begun returning that favor to those responsible.
I have issued eleven writs of execution to remove the miscreants that perpetrated this act of cowardice not just from the ranks of my Order, but from the face of Citaria. Let them go and face Zalkar’s judgment. In addition, I have demoted no fewer than thirty-six of my hunters to Initiate status, that they must once again prove they are worthy of the trust of this Order before they ever again represent us abroad.
Now I am left to unravel what transpired, and whether any of the seterra-rir survived this atrocity. How to handle this embarrassment to the Order is beyond me at this point. While we are not solely responsible for this genocide, my people were at the forefront, and this Order will bear the shame until the end of time.
I shall be recording everything I undertake to try to set things right, but I am at a loss as to what to do. I must consult the council.
Kari glanced once more at the writs, but she set the paper aside and reached for the next one in the pile.
Few things get the attention of your hunters and cadets like decapitating their senior officers in front of them. Let this be a lesson to them and those who follow:
Violate the will of the Avatar, and you will pay the price.
It was no longer even a matter of professional judgment when I had the writs fulfilled. My Order wasn’t just taken to war; it was used by an outside force I have yet to put a name to. It would not greatly surprise me to find that one of the kings perfectly timed a manipulation to coincide with my visit to Anthraxis, but that any of them either had such a hold or could worm their way into the trust of this Order so quickly is troubling.
My instincts tell me it was the Crimson Huntress, King Koursturaux S’Bakthra. Though she is rather cultured for a demon king, she is volatile and vengeful, and her reaction to my presence on the Overking’s table was certainly the most… I suppose I should say “overt.” To the others, my “blunder” was a curiosity more than a threat, but she seemed to take my actions as a challenge.
I believe some of the seterra-rir survived the genocide, but they have fled across the waters to gods-only-know-where. I would seek them out to protect them, but I know there is no way I, let alone my Order, could ever regain their trust. I suspect they had a great deal of aid from the human fishermen and sailors along the west coast, and as far as we rir are concerned, the seterra-rir are a memory.
The council had little insight into things. Why the Unyielding would choose this, of all times, to go silent toward us is a mystery. And it is far from the only one. What purpose would a simple genocide serve to a being like King Koursturaux, except perhaps amusement? I find it hard to believe she would perpetrate such a thing simply for her own amusement; she may be volatile and evil, but she is shrewd. She would not enact such a plan without there being some larger goal beneath it all.
And that, of course, assumes it was her at all…
For the first time in my tenure as Avatar, I feel lost. I am tempted to go and speak with my old friend in Anthraxis again, but I am hesitant to leave the Order in anyone else’s hands until I have verified the loyalty of my new command staff. This type of incident simply cannot ever be repeated.
It nearly makes me want to spit to think so, but I could certainly use a trustworthy hunter like Karian Vanador right about now. Why did the gods let her die?
Kari put a clawed hand to the end of her snout and had to fight hard to swallow after that. It was eye-opening enough to see that Jalar had ever even taken notice of her career in light of his own. To find that he had wished she was still around during the darkest days of his tenure was humbling. She continued reading through the papers, but most of them were further entries as Jalar investigated who was behind the orders to attack the seterra-rir. He never discovered who it was according to his reports, and Kari’s mouth twitched as she tried not to laugh at the fact that he’d executed the people most likely to shed light on his mystery.
She thought of her beshathan prisoners, then, and was glad she hadn’t made any rash decisions yet. She still felt obligated to hold them responsible for their actions the night before, but on the other hand, she thought maybe they deserved the same mercy she had given to Seril’s general, Atauridar, when he’d been brought before the Council. Ultimately, they were just soldiers doing the will of their lord, however despotic he might be. But no matter how she looked at it, they could be information sources, so she was content to keep them alive for now.
It wasn’t until Kari got to the final report, still sealed, that she found something else of true interest. She read:
Three years I have searched for the force behind my Order’s attack on the seterra-rir people, and I have failed. I have failed to find anything of use, even a name to assign the blame to. If King Koursturaux, or any other king, was behind this atrocity, they have yet to follow up in any way that I have noticed. If anything, they’ve been unusually quiet these last few years; dare I think my threat to the Overking may be the reason? One can only hope.
I pray my successors find our off-world enemies to be so easy to deal with. If not, I have faith that they will realize that the kings are as dangerous to each other as to us, and one need only knock over a single domino to watch them all fall. The Overking may be able to prevent the total collapse of his little council, but I have seen these beings up close, and I can see and smell the evil in them. The slightest provocation will turn them all against each other, and while in the end that would likely leave only the Ancient Ones standing, a consolidated enemy is far easier to fight than many smaller ones.
I have spoken at length with the Order’s council regarding the seterra-rir, and as much as it pained me to suggest as much, they agreed with my proposal. All record of this incident and any mention of the seterra-rir surviving will be buried along with me upon my death. Until such time, I will hold these records under lock and key.
Perhaps someday, our races might be ready to heal these wounds, but for now, whatever is left of the seterra-rir population must be safeguarded, even against this Order. The truth will be unearthed one day, I am certain, but until then, I will protect the seterra-rir in the only way I can: I will do my utmost to hide them.
If you are reading this, I implore you – if you are not the Avatar of Vengeance yourself – to deliver these papers to the current head of the Demonhunter Order. Show them the truth, and let them try to heal these wounds.
I, Turik Jalar, cannot, for I have failed.
“Not yet you haven’t,”
Kari said, folding up the papers and wrapping them in a protective leather case. “I’m going to finish your work.”
She set them all back down on her desk, though, and took a deep breath. She tried not to choke on the stench of smoke and burnt things. Revealing the existence of the seterra-rir colony on Salkorum could be a huge risk, and be seen as a betrayal if she didn’t ask their permission first. But something in her heart told her not to wait. Even if they were still hesitant, she wanted to make sure they were safe, just as Turik Jalar did, except Kari wanted to be proactive instead of passive about it.
It was time to reveal the secret to the council. They were all human, anyway. Kari could ask one or more of them to go personally, to establish new diplomatic ties with the displaced folk. From there, whether or not the seterra-rir would branch back out into the world would be their choice, but Kari could possibly begin stationing human hunters there to help defend them. It made Kari wish Jori-an was in port or at least due to visit, so she could get the woman’s insights.
My lord, I need to speak to the council at once, Kari thought. It was an amazing thing to have that direct connection to her deity now. She could contact his priests almost anywhere with but a thought. She couldn’t speak to them directly, but she could pass messages to them the same way they did between churches and temples with guided prayer. No longer did Kari have to send cadets and assistants to gather the council: She could ask Zalkar to do it.
Still, she much preferred to have meetings face-to-face.
She rose from her seat and collected Turik Jalar’s things. She still wondered what it was that made Jason Bosimar pull such subterfuge to get the records from Jalar’s tomb, or how Jason could have even known what the records contained. The fact that Jason was involved with Jori-an, a seterra-rir, may have explained why he was interested, but it didn’t shine any light on how Kari’s predecessor might have learned the truth of it. And while there was good speculation as to why he did it covertly, it was still just that: Speculation.
