by Joe Jackson
Kari stared at the fountain in silence and let the sounds of the city flow through her, the groan and hum of the passing masses giving life to the marble scene before her and further meaning to its existence. This city stood because of the efforts of great men and women like the one depicted before her. It was part of the reason she became a demonhunter: to help preserve civilization against those who refused to become a part of it and would therefore see it destroyed. For a moment, Kari wondered if her own life measured in any way against the accomplishments of men like Kris Fletcher: whether the history books spoke favorably of her short life, or if they mentioned her at all.
Kari coughed quietly into her hand and spared an embarrassed glance skyward as her thoughts turned toward hubris. Her fame and fortune, even her name had almost nothing to do with why she had undertaken a life of service, why she continued to do what she did despite her doubts and loneliness. Kris Fletcher didn’t become a hero because he’d set out to be a hero: he became one by doing what needed to be done despite his own doubts, fears, and desires. At her core, Kari knew the same must be true of her: those who set out to become heroes failed far more often than not, succumbing to ego and jealousy, and quite often became the embodiment of what they’d set out to fight.
Kari glanced around the rest of the plaza. Its outer edge was lined with quaint eateries and well-kept taverns, and no smithies or hard goods shops made their home amongst such beauty. People of nearly every race she knew sat at small tables or on benches around the circular central plaza, enjoying the sun and what remained of the fairly warm weather, knowing that winter was on its way and would be brutal as always. Life in the holy city and the surrounding region had never been easy: the creator had placed his people in such a place to make them strong and adaptable, and when they fell short in those areas, the humans had bolstered them.
The demonhunter dipped her fingers in the water of the fountain, uttered a silent prayer to her deity’s ally, and touched her wet fingers to her forehead. She made her way up the wide northern boulevard that headed toward the temple plazas higher up on the hill against which the city was built. She glanced briefly at the humans she passed and marveled at how well they integrated themselves into rir society, and the feat was no less impressive for being three thousand years in the making. Kari wondered where it was they came from and who created them. History said they had crashed near Sarchelete in the latter half of the first century of her people’s existence, in some type of craft that traveled among the stars. At the very least it was a good story, and certainly no less believable than the counter-reports that they arrived via magic – it all sounded like magic to her.
The cobblestones of the northern road soon gave way to marble steps, and Kari moved to the side of the street where a man sat on a simple folding wooden chair beside a pan of water. Without a word, she washed her feet and dropped a silver coin from her purse into the box at the man’s feet. The human smiled and nodded his head, though he said nothing, and Kari began to ascend the marble staircase into the first temple plaza.
The northern quarter was shaped like a clover, with each “leaf” comprised of two temples, and the grand marble stairway up the hillside representing the stem. Between the two central temples at the very north of the quarter was a narrow staircase leading farther up to the hilltop, where Gori Sensullu’s temple sat. It was crowned by a massive sandstone statue of the deity’s upper body with its hand outstretched to the northeast. Legend said that if one knelt on the topmost step to the temple at the marking of the New Year, the eclipsed sun appeared to sit in the palm of the statue’s hand. It was something Kari had always wanted to see for herself, but she’d never found the opportunity.
When she reached the top of the grand staircase, Kari looked around the broad plaza at the columned, marble fronts of the six major temples. Though there were far more than six deities in the pantheon, the newly joined deities of the Koryon pantheon had no temples in this most holy place. Only the eldest and most revered among the Citarian deities had a grand temple, and Kari looked to the symbols carved into the face of each from left to right: the golden axe of Garra Ktarra; the winged focus of Kaelariel; the golden cross of the Ghost; the red-bladed, black-hilted sword of Sechre Tori; the balanced forces of Zalkar, and the white-striped black cross of Tisa Ch’Brakkh.
Kari paused before heading to meet with her deity’s high priest; something else nagged at her, and instead she walked up the staircase to Gori Sensullu’s now defunct temple. Her steps were hurried, as she understood the dinner hour was fast approaching. She wanted to meet with the high priest before he took his evening meal and began his nightly prayers and meditations.
She dodged traffic and reached the top of the final stairs, and Kari approached the white marble structure slowly. Standing at its base she felt very small, staring up at the titanic statue atop the temple that stretched its hand away toward some undefined point. The creator was dead, she reminded herself, and yet still the traffic into and out of his temple was relatively heavy. Groundskeepers tended to the gardens on either side of the wide path leading inside, and it was clear the temple itself wasn't suffering from any neglect in the weeks following the loss. It brought a pained smile to her face.
Kari walked inside and immediately drew the attention of nearly every other pilgrim and mourner within. It was unclear if it was the wings or the dog tags, but she paid their stares little heed. Almost without thought, she approached the slain deity’s altar and knelt before it, and she hardly noticed that all the others within knelt with her. She felt a strange urge to cry, but she stifled it. She steeled herself and realized the eyes of all those gathered were upon her. There were no clergy in attendance: the priests of the temple must have converted quickly to the service of other deities to consolidate the strength of the pantheon in the wake of the loss. Only then did Kari realize that as a demonhunter, the others might be looking at her as the only one present with a direct connection to any of the gods.
After a few silent moments, Kari took a deep, silent breath, and spoke quietly. She was neither well educated nor particularly well-spoken, and the words that came forth seemed out of place even to her as she intoned, “Gori Sensullu, our father and creator, we dedicate this time to you. We, your children, don’t understand where it is you’ve gone to, but we’ll always remember you. We have you to thank for our lives, for the beautiful world in which we live, and for the strength and perseverance of our people. Wherever it is you’ve gone to, lord, our love and our thanks go with you. May peace be with you, wherever you are.”
She sighed lightly as several Amens sounded from around the crowded room, the response to the close of prayer having become popular since the arrival of the humans. Kari turned as someone touched her shoulder, but no one stood there, and a shiver coursed through her momentarily. As odd as it was, it was not a shiver of cold, but instead it left a warmth below her skin that she couldn’t explain. She glanced briefly at the others in the temple, but if they had touched her or seen anyone do so, it wasn't apparent in any of their expressions. After another reflective moment, she rose and exited the temple, and made her way back to Zalkar’s temple.
The inside here was no different than the church in Barcon, though it was much more spacious given its larger congregation and status as the main temple of the faith. The benches toward the center were full with worshippers listening to the teaching of a middle-aged human in a white robe trimmed in light blue. The priest looked up at Kari while he taught and gestured toward one of the benches, so she sat down to wait and listen. Most of the congregation seemed to be city watch and lawmen, and the priest continued to teach for a few more minutes. As always, the lesson revolved around upholding the law while observing the church’s central doctrine regarding justice and mercy.
Once the lesson was complete, the worshippers rose and made their way out of the temple, and many nodded their head to the demonhunter. The priest leaned against the altar and pulled back the hood of his robe to revea
l the same military crew cut their deity wore, and which was consequently quite popular among his followers. He studied Kari quietly and paid no mind to the acolytes who came out to clean the temple after the service. After a couple of minutes only the terra-dracon female and the human remained.
“Karian Vanador,” the man said when at last they were alone. “It’s good that you’ve come, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I just wanted to pay my respects to our creator, or I would’ve been here sooner, Master,” she said. She rose and approached the man, and she touched her fist over her heart in salute.
He waved off the explanation. “You only missed more of the same I’m sure you heard countless times in the Academy,” he said and extended a hand, which she shook. “I’m Attir Surallis, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It is?” Kari asked before she realized what she was saying, and the human chuckled as he gestured to the padded chairs at the rear of the chapel. He turned one to face the other and sat down across from her.
“When the Unyielding told me you were coming, I was quite excited,” he said. “I studied your career in detail when I was a younger acolyte in this church. I’ve been in Zalkar’s service for over twenty-five years now, but I have continued to study your career through the years – yours and Turik Jalar’s specifically; amazing contemporaries.”
“I always regretted never getting to know him,” Kari said quietly. "We were classmates at the Academy, but he was a couple of years ahead of me in our studies."
Attir nodded. “I’m sure being brought back from death has been quite a shock to you,” he said. “Understand: it’s been a shock to all of us – but a welcome one. We have something quite alarming and urgent to look into, and the Unyielding has asked me to pass along this task to you specifically. Though our lord had no hand in your return, he is thrilled, to say the least, with having you back in his service, and hopes that your career will pick back up where it was tragically cut short so long ago. As do I.”
“I am my lord’s to command,” Kari said formally, and she bowed her head toward the high priest. “If he’s brought me to you for orders, Master, I’m sure it’s something important.”
The human nodded once again and held his hand out, and he took Kari’s offered hand in both of his. “I’m sure this isn’t going to be something you want to hear, given that the War just ended for you a couple of weeks ago,” he said. “Just understand how important this is to our lord. There are rumors of the threat of war to the west, on the island of Tsalbrin – a civil war, not another war with the serilian demons or anything of that sort.”
“So you’re sending soldiers over there to help fight?” she guessed, assuming her service as a lieutenant colonel under Kris Jir'tana meant more to others than it did now to her.
Attir shook his head, releasing his hold with one of his hands to make a dismissive gesture. “Not at all,” he said. “No war has actually broken out yet, and the gods want it kept that way. I’m sure you understand that after an event like the Apocalypse, another war would only serve to weaken the pantheon, strain relations, and perhaps even open the door to unrest from the underworld. No, you will head to Tsalbrin with a small group of elite war veterans and do whatever – and I stress whatever – is necessary to stop this war from actually happening.”
“Tsalbrin? Isn’t that halfway across the world?”
“Indeed it is, but as unlikely as it may sound, you’re the closest of our champions strong enough to take care of this for the gods,” he answered.
“What’s the root?”
The priest smiled, and Kari was unsure what amused him. “A terra-rir general named Braxus Gaswell is said to be bolstering his garrisons and recruiting for his army for an as-yet unknown reason. Some speculate that he intends to invade Kirelia, much like his great-great-grandfather did, but that theory ignores a couple of very important facts: firstly, he is only recruiting terra-rir.”
Kari considered the priest’s words and her brow furrowed. “You think it’s a racial war, Master?” she asked.
Attir nodded. “That’s what it looks like at the moment,” he said. “We haven’t anywhere near the full picture, so there’s only so much I can tell you, but rest assured that a racial civil war will tear the island apart and quickly spread to the mainland. This has the potential to explode into another world-wide war, perhaps bad enough to rival the Apocalypse. The involvement of the kirelas-rir also has many concerned; those people are best left alone and to their own devices. If Gaswell upsets their society and the bah’qitur of Dannumore become involved, things will get out of hand very quickly. And, of course, there is one other thing…”
“You suspect there’s demons involved,” Kari stated. There was no other reasonable explanation for why she would be chosen to try to stop a civil war on a remote island.
“Zalkar’s faith in you is well placed,” the human commented, and he released her hand to sit back in his chair. “We’re not certain of their type, but it’s not a serilian demon. We’ve only received bits of information at this point, and most of it is second- or even third-hand knowledge. There’s definitely a demon involved, but they’re keeping themselves out of sight for the most part, so while we suspect they’re involved with Gaswell’s sudden interest in an uprising, we don’t know exactly where they are or what they’re up to. What we’re afraid of is that it may be the start of another invasion like the one Arku attempted on Terrassia during the War. If that’s the case, then they need to be stopped before they gain even the slightest foothold on Tsalbrin.”
“I understand,” she replied.
“You obviously won’t be working alone on this mission,” he said, rising to his feet, and he paced back over to the altar to lean against it. “Have you heard of Erijinkor Tesconis?”
Kari thought to herself for only a moment, trying to recall things she’d heard during the War. “One of those half-guardian kids out of Latalex?”
Attir nodded. “Yes, Erik’s a half-guardian and only two generations removed from both Cylestor and Cerberus,” he answered, and Kari’s eyes widened. Cylestor was the lord of the guardian demons, and Cerberus was an extremely powerful guardian demon so named because of his station guarding the hellgate. A half-guardian who had them both for grandfathers would have to be quite the man of renown. “He’ll be your partner in this. I’m not sure how well you know of him, but he’s rising through the ranks of the Order very quickly. The Council has faith in him, but at the same time, they want to be sure this young man’s quick ascension is deserved. So we would like you to work together to investigate this demon activity on Tsalbrin, and then you may brief us on just how good a demonhunter you think he is.”
“Half-demon demonhunter, isn’t that a little weird?” Kari asked, her mind flashing back to what David Marrack had said in Barcon.
The priest smiled again but didn’t answer. “He won’t know you’re mentoring him,” Attir said. “In fact, it’s quite possible he’ll think he’s mentoring you. If that’s the case, do nothing to suggest otherwise; if anything, it’ll tell us how good a commander he is on top of his skills as a demonhunter. He may not make the connection that you’re the real Karian Vanador, either; a lot of people may find it hard to believe you’ve been resurrected, since this has never happened before. So if he comes across as somewhat arrogant or demeaning, just give it time. The way he conducts himself is primarily what we’re interested in here.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod. “Is there anything else I need to do while over there?”
“Just aid any victims of demons you come across,” he said. “You know your job well enough, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what to do. You’re one of our best, Karian, and that’s why you’ve been chosen for this. We know you won’t let us down.”
“I appreciate your confidence, Master,” she said. She stood and shook the human’s hand once more. “When does transportation leave?”
“There’s a
ship at the port in the west quarter,” he said. “We’ve had it waiting for your arrival. Erik and his siblings have been in town for a few days; you should be able to find them at Land’s End. Gather what personal things you’ll need and look for the ship called Karmi’s Sword at the north pier in the morning. Don’t worry about supplies, the ship is fully supplied and will be making a stop on the east coast of Terrassia on the way to Tsalbrin.”
“How long a trip is it?” she asked.
“About two months if the weather stays favorable,” he said. “The crew of Karmi’s Sword is among the best on the high seas, so I don’t expect any trouble will slow down your journey. I just hope you handle sea travel well.”
The demonhunter shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it,” Kari said. “Thank you, Master; should I return here to give my report when the mission is complete?”
Attir shook his head. “No, your return trip should take you around the north coast to DarkWind, so you can give your report to Lord Allerius and Master Bennet at the Academy when your work is complete. They will have the authority to promote you when all goes well.”
When all goes well, not if, she thought. Kari smiled and touched her fist lightly to her breast in salute. “When all goes well,” she repeated. She bid the high priest farewell and made her way to the western quarter and the inn known as Land’s End.
