Hunter of Legends (Fate of Legends Series Book 1)

by Clayton Wood

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Should be by tonight.”

  “Good,” she replied. She put a hand on his chest. “Don’t tire yourself out today,” she added. “You’re going to need all the energy you can get tonight.”

  “That a promise?”

  “Mmm hmm,” she murmured. “Go on,” she added, pushing him back playfully. “Put on your clothes.” She smiled, releasing his…lower parts. “I’ll watch.”

  He obeyed, getting dressed, then getting a kiss from Trixie. Then he left, going down the stairs and rushing across the docks. He made it to the community center in less than a minute, cutting through the line there easily. All it took was walking right through…everyone backed away from him, of course. He ignored them, passing through the double doors and into the community center. Looking around the large room, he spotted Gammon’s huge form at one of the tables. He felt immediate relief…he’d made it on time.

  “Hey guys,” he called out, walking up to their table. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “Oh hey,” Kris greeted. “Thought I’d been stood up.”

  “Sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time,” Sukri piped in.

  “I’m glad you came,” Gammon said, smiling at Hunter. “You should hurry up and get something to eat,” he added.

  Hunter nodded, doing just that. He grabbed the usual fare, sitting down beside Sukri. She eyed him critically.

  “You look like shit,” she observed. “Get any sleep?”

  “Not really,” he admitted, holding back a grin. He didn’t really care to brag about losing his virginity. It would cheapen what had happened.

  “Aww Hunter,” she said with a smirk. “You nervous about the tryouts?”

  “Nah,” he replied. “Noisy neighbors.”

  “Did you hear a woman moaning?” Kris asked with a grin. “If so, I apologize.”

  “Yeah,” Sukri agreed. “He sounds like a girl when he cries himself to sleep.”

  “Now that’s just cold,” Kris muttered. Sukri grinned at him.

  “We’d better get going guys,” Gammon interjected, slurping up the last bits of food from his second plate, then standing up, towering over the table. Everyone else finished, then stood, walking out of the community center. The line of people still outside parted before them, treating them all like lepers, as usual. Sukri led the way out of the Outskirts and into Lowtown, weaving through the streets with confident ease.

  “So where are we going again?” Hunter asked her.

  “The Guild of Seekers,” she answered. “It’s in Lowtown,” she added. “The only major guild in Lowtown.”

  “So Seekers find stuff and bring it back to the city?” Hunter pressed. Sukri shook her head.

  “Not that simple, sweetheart,” she replied. “You know anything about your will?”

  “Are these tryouts so dangerous I’d need one?” Hunter quipped. Sukri rolled her eyes.

  “I mean your willpower,” she clarified. “Has anyone told you about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well shit,” she grumbled. She glanced at Kris, who shrugged. “We don’t have time to go over it,” she told Hunter. “Guess you’ll have to learn as you go.”

  With that, the street opened up to a large courtyard, nearly as big as the plaza by the church. A huge, gothic-appearing building stood in the center. Seven stories tall at its highest, it was made of blackened wood, but was in far better condition than any of the other buildings in Lowtown. A five-foot-wide moat surrounded the large building, with a single wooden bridge spanning it, leading to a set of double-doors. Three long lines of people stood in the courtyard, a dozen or so feet before the moat.

  “And there we are,” Kris declared, gesturing at the building. “The Guild of Seekers!” He stopped staring at the building. “I wonder what it looks like on the inside.”

  “I’ll let you know,” Sukri replied with a smirk. She kept going, leaving Kris behind. He hurried behind them, and they eventually reached the end of one of the lines.

  “Big turnout this year,” Gammon noted. Sukri clapped him on the back.

  “Most of these jokers will be turned away before long,” she reassured. “It happens every year. Look,” she added, gesturing at the front of the line. Hunter did so, spotting a tall, middle-aged man in a gold and black uniform facing the front of the line. He said something to the first person in line – a middle-aged man – and then shook his head. The man exited the line, walking away from the guild.

  “What are their criteria?” Hunter asked, suddenly nervous. If he was turned away…

  “Nobody knows for sure,” Sukri admitted. “Best I can tell, they don’t take anyone too young or too old. And they don’t care for the pure.”

  “The pure?”

  “Blond hair, blue eyes,” she explained. “Like Tykus.”

  “Thank god for that,” Hunter muttered. “We don’t have anything to worry about then.”

  Sure enough, Sukri was right. The lines moved surprisingly quickly, most being turned away by the men in the black and gold uniforms. Perhaps one out of every five were allowed to stand to the side, clearly passing whatever test the uniformed men were conducting. It wasn’t long before Sukri – the first in line of their group – was next to be tested. Gammon put a hand on her shoulder, and she smiled up at the big guy, stepping forward to stand before one of the testers. The man looked Sukri up and down, then had her stand within a foot of him, putting a hand on her shoulder. She tolerated this without question. After nearly a minute, the man nodded, and gestured for Sukri to step to the side.

  “Way to go, Sukri!” Kris whispered at her as she left. She winked at him, then stood to the side.

  Gammon was next. The huge man stepped forward, towering over the tester. Gammon stared down at the man expressionlessly, his arms crossed in front of his chest. The tester observed him much as he’d done for Sukri, then again put a hand on the man’s arm, holding it for nearly a minute.

  “Come on…” Kris whispered, grabbing Hunter’s arm.

  The tester nodded once, then gestured for Gammon to step to the side. Kris grinned, giving Hunter’s arm a squeeze. Then he let go, stepping forward when the tester gestured for him to approach. They went through the same process, but this time the tester held Kris’s shoulder for much longer. Finally, he nodded, and Kris stepped to the side.

  The man in the gold and black uniform turned to Hunter, staring at him expressionlessly for a long moment. The man was indeed middle-aged, with a salt-and pepper goatee and light brown hair. A long scar ran down his left cheek.

  He gestured for Hunter to approach.

  Hunter took a couple steps forward, stopping when the man held up his hand. The man stared at Hunter for a long moment – much longer than he had for the others – then gestured for Hunter to step forward. He did so, and the man reached for Hunter’s shoulder, grasping it tightly and closing his eyes.

  They stood there, motionless.

  Hunter stared at the man, noticing a large silver medallion resting on his chest, a metallic triangle with symbols etched into its surface.

  He stood there, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Not just nervous, though. Something didn’t feel right…something was off. He frowned, his curiosity piqued. He studied the sensation, trying to figure out what it was. Over a minute passed, and still the man held onto his shoulder.

  Something’s wrong, he thought.

  Suddenly the man let go of his shoulder, staring at Hunter for a long moment. Then he nodded, gesturing for Hunter to join the others.

  “All right!” Kris exclaimed, slapping Hunter on the shoulder as he joined them. Sukri flashed him a grin, and Gammon straight up shook his hand.

  “Congratulations,” the big man said with a relieved grin. “I was nervous for you.”

  “Thanks big guy,” Hunter replied, grinning back. He felt a wave of relief…he’d made it past the first test. He had a chance now…a chance to become a Seeker, and to find Mom.

  They waited, wat
ching as the lines grew smaller and smaller, until at last every candidate had been either rejected or allowed to stay. Of the hundreds of people who’d come, only a few dozen had been chosen.

  “What now?” Hunter asked Sukri. She shrugged.

  “Hell if I know,” she admitted.

  “I have a feeling we’re about to find out,” Kris said, gesturing ahead. The three men in gold and black uniforms – Hunter assumed they were Seeker uniforms – faced the three groups. One of them was the man who’d tested Hunter; he motioned for everyone to form one large group, then stood in front of the other testers, gazing at the small crowd.

  “Good morning,” he greeted in a deep, gravelly voice. “I am Thorius, Master Trainer for the guild.” He gestured at the crowd. “You all have passed the first stage of our screening process for Seeker candidates. Congratulations.”

  There was scattered applause at that, but Thorius raised his hand, and the crowd quickly went silent.

  “The second stage of the screening process will begin shortly,” he stated. “You will each be escorted into the guild, three at a time. You will wait here until directed by a Seeker to go inside.”

  With that, Thorius turned, nodding at the other two Seekers. Three people at the front of the crowd were chosen, and were led across the bridge over the moat and into the double-doors of the guild by the Seekers. The doors closed behind them, leaving the rest of the candidates outside.

  Minutes passed.

  “Wonder what they’re doing in there,” Kris muttered, breaking the silence. Sukri shrugged.

  “I don’t give a damn,” she replied. “We’re either gonna pass or fail. I’m guessing knowing ahead of time won’t help.”

  “Agreed,” Gammon piped in. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Relax,” Kris grumbled. “I’m just curious.”

  A few more minutes passed, until finally the double doors opened, three candidates stepping out. All three walked over the bridge, leaving the courtyard without saying a word. The Seekers came out soon afterward, choosing another three candidates and bringing them inside.

  “Well shit,” Sukri murmured. “No one made it.”

  “This is gonna take a while,” Kris lamented. Sukri raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Got someplace better to be?” she inquired.

  Kris didn’t answer, not that he had to. It was clear to Hunter from their conversation earlier that joining the Seekers was the only way out of their dead-end jobs…and Hunter’s only chance at avoiding a lifetime slinging crap around in waste management, or whatever it was he’d be forced to do. If he had to wait all day, he would.

  Eventually, the double-doors opened again…and again, three candidates left. Two more people were chosen…along with Sukri.

  “Good luck,” Gammon whispered to her as she left, putting a hand on her shoulder. She flashed him a smile, then went with the Seeker, following the other two people into the guild. Hunter watched her go, suddenly apprehensive. He glanced at Kris, who was biting a fingernail.

  Minutes passed, until finally the doors opened again. A single candidate walked out, striding across the courtyard…and it wasn’t Sukri. The three Seekers followed soon afterward.

  “She made it!” Kris exclaimed, punching Gammon on the shoulder. Gammon smiled at him, punching him back…and nearly sending him to the ground.

  “I thought she would,” Gammon proclaimed.

  The process continued, the Seekers choosing three more candidates, all of whom failed. Another three were chosen, then another, only a few chosen to remain within. By the time the Seekers took Kris and Gammon – along with a third person – the sun was nearly overhead.

  “Good luck,” Hunter offered as the two men followed the Seekers into the guild. Gammon waved at him, and Kris just gave a nervous-looking smile. They disappeared beyond the double-doors, leaving Hunter with five other people standing in the courtyard. He glanced around, unable to help noticing that the others were standing a good ten feet from him.

  Nothing new there.

  They waited, and perhaps ten minutes later, the doors opened again, and a man walked out. A tall man with dirty-blond hair.

  Hunter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The man wasn’t Gammon, and he wasn’t Kris. They’d both made it!

  The three Seekers came out, and Thorius glanced at Hunter, gesturing for him to come forward. Hunter obeyed, standing before the Seeker while two more people were chosen. Thorius led them across the small bridge over the moat then, opening one of the double-doors and leading them into a large foyer. The floor was made of dark cherry, the walls made of translucent paper-like material, like a traditional Japanese home. The foyer was simple, with barely any furniture to speak of. It was well-made and clearly well-maintained, but hardly what Hunter had been expecting based on the exterior.

  “This way,” Thorius prompted.

  They turned left into a long, wide hallway, with closed doors on either side. Thorius stopped then, turning to face the candidates. The two other Seekers handed out a sheet of paper to each candidate. Hunter glanced down at his; there was writing on it, but he couldn’t really read it. Strange that everyone here spoke perfect English, but the written language was so foreign.

  “You must sign this contract before going further,” Thorius explained. “Understand that the process you are about to undertake involves substantial risk. You may suffer significant, even fatal injury. You may do things you will never forgive yourself for. You may lose your mind, or your very soul…the very essence of who you are.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The only way forward is to accept these risks.”

  Hunter stared at Thorius, then down at the paper in his hands. Sounded like an idle threat, probably part of the test. Whoever didn’t have the guts to sign would leave, and the brave would pass. Thorius handed him a quill, and he signed the paper. Simple enough.

  “Proceed,” Thorius told him, opening one of the doors and directing Hunter through it. He found himself in a small room, barely bigger than his apartment. There was no furniture in the room of any kind…only another door ahead, opposite the first.

  The door closed behind him.

  Hunter stood there, glancing around the room. Again, there was nothing but a bare wooden floor, the paper walls, and a bare wooden ceiling.

  “Okay,” he muttered. “This isn’t so bad.”

  Then the door opposite him opened, and a man stepped through.

  He was perhaps fifty, this man, with long, unkempt graying hair and heavily tanned skin. A scruffy beard lay draped over his chest. He was wearing a simple white shirt and pants, which were stained yellow at the armpits. He approached Hunter slowly, accompanied by the stench of body odor and urine.

  “Who’re you?” the man demanded, glaring at him suspiciously. “Who sent you here?”

  “Who’re you?” Hunter countered. The man’s eyes narrowed.

  “I asked you first.”

  “I’m Hunter,” he answered, wrinkling his nose. “Is the smell part of the test?”

  “What?”

  “You smell like shit,” Hunter continued. And in fact the man did.

  “I don’t bathe,” the man declared, somewhat defensively.

  “You don’t say.”

  “You can’t trust the water, you know,” the man continued. “They put things in it. You’re from the Outskirts, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Hunter answered.

  “You ever wonder why they built it over the water?” the man asked. Hunter paused, then nodded. He had wondered about that. “They put things in the water,” the man revealed. “The vapors rise up from the water, and get into the buildings. Makes everyone like sheep, doing whatever the nobles in the Acropolis want.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “It’s true,” the man insisted, stepping closer. Hunter resisted the urge to take a step back. The man’s stench was almost overpowering. “They keep people like us passive, so we work the sewers all our lives, never
asking questions.”

  “You must’ve just gotten off a shift,” Hunter muttered, giving in and taking a step back.

  “Laugh all you want,” the man retorted. He jabbed a finger at Hunter’s chest. “You’re the slave, you know. Doing whatever they say. Doing anything you can to look like them, to talk like them.” He gave a toothless sneer. “You want to be them, don’t you?”

  “Be who?”

  “Like the people in the Acropolis,” the man clarified. “You all do.” He grinned proudly. “But not me,” he added. “I don’t drink the water…don’t go near it. You drink it, you end up like everyone else.”

  Hunter stared at the man, breathing through his mouth. There was no doubt that everyone around him had looked similar, at least outside of the Outskirts. And Ekrin and Trixie had made it clear that everyone wanted to be like this Tykus guy.

  “You see it, don’t you,” the man pressed. “They’re controlling us, making us do whatever they want.” He shook his head. “They think I’m crazy, but it’s not crazy to fight for your soul, is it?”

  “Sure buddy,” Hunter muttered. “Whatever you say.”

  “Don’t patronize me!” the man snapped. “You’re just like the others, aren’t you? Going to take me away, lock me in a cell! I know what you’re up to,” he added. “I was like you once, until they put me in that cell.” He grinned, tapping his temple. “That’s when I realized the truth. A little time alone in prison and you’ll see things you didn’t see before. You see how the world really works, and then…”

  The door behind the man opened, and a man in a Seeker uniform strode in. He grabbed the old man’s arms, hauling him backward through the doorway. The man shrieked, spinning around to claw at the Seeker’s face, but the Seeker grappled the man, subduing him with unnerving ease. He dragged the man out of the room, kicking and screaming. Moments later, the door closed, the man’s screams fading away.

  “Well then,” Hunter muttered. Nearly a minute passed, the man’s stench leaving much more slowly than he had. Then the door opened again, and someone else stepped through. A slender woman with long blond hair tied back into a ponytail, wearing tight black pants and a tight shirt. Hunter’s breath caught in his throat…it was Trixie!