Hunter of Legends (Fate of Legends Series Book 1)

by Clayton Wood

  She walked up to him wordlessly, stopping a few feet in front of him. He smiled at her.

  “Hey Trixie,” he greeted. “What are you doing here?” She frowned at him.

  “I’m here for you,” she answered. “But my name isn’t Trixie. It’s Kala.”

  “What?” Hunter replied. He stared at her incredulously. She was Trixie…she even walked and talked like her. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No,” the woman said. She put a hand on his shoulder, stepping in closer. “I’m feeling lonely,” she murmured, staring into his eyes, a slight smile on her lips. He felt his groin awaken with her touch.

  “What are you, her twin?” Hunter pressed, taking a step back. Her hand slid off his shoulder.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. He stared at her, realizing that her eyes were perfectly blue…no green flecks like Trixie had. And her skin was utterly white, not slightly tanned like Trixie’s.

  “You’re not her,” Hunter realized. She stepped toward him again, putting both hands on his shoulders, her face inches from his.

  “No,” she replied. “But I could be yours.”

  Hunter stared at her, feeling his groin stirring again. She smelled amazing, her perfume subtle but tantalizing. He took a deep breath in, his gaze lowering to her cleavage, her pale breasts straining against that tight shirt. She smiled, leaning forward until her lips were inches from his, giving him a better view. She slid one hand down his chest, then his belly, her fingertips resting just above his groin. He felt himself rising to meet that hand, growing until it slid underneath it. She rested her hand there, tilting her head to the side and pressing her lips against his cheek, just to the left of his lips. His skin tingled with her touch, and she pulled away a little, placing her other hand on his cheek and turning his head slightly to face her. She leaned in again, pressing her lips against his…and letting her fingertips slide down the front of his pants.

  His breath caught in his throat, and before he knew it he felt himself kissing her back.

  What the hell are you doing?

  He turned his head to one side, breaking their kiss, then pushed her away gently but firmly.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, pulling her hand from his groin. “I’m taken.” She ignored him, leaning in again. But he held her back with one hand.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she pressed, giving him a hungry look. He shook his head.

  “I know who I’d miss if I did anything with you,” he shot back.

  She stared at him for a moment longer, then turned away, opening the door and leaving the room silently. Hunter watched her go, feeling suddenly uneasy.

  Jesus.

  That‘d been a hell of a test. Somehow, they’d found someone who looked exactly like Trixie, and tried to seduce him. The first test had been easy, but that…

  He heard a door open behind him, the door he’d come into the room through. He turned to face it, seeing Thorius step through. The Seeker gave a curt nod.

  “Congratulations,” he stated. “Come with me.”

  The man led him out of the small room and back into the hallway. The other two candidates had already come out of their rooms. Their heads were bowed. Obviously they hadn’t done as well as he had.

  “Escort these two outside,” Thorius ordered the other two Seekers. They obeyed, and Thorius turned to Hunter, gesturing for him to go down the hallway in the opposite direction. Hunter complied, walking to the end of the hallway. The only way to go was right, and he did so, the hallway continuing until it opened up into a large room. Eight other candidates were standing there in the middle of the room…including Sukri, Gammon, and Kris. Sukri noticed Hunter, and gave him a big grin as he walked up to her.

  “Hey, you made it!” she exclaimed, shoving his shoulder playfully. Gammon smiled down at him.

  “Good job, Hunter,” he congratulated. “I’m proud of you buddy.”

  “Thanks guys,” Hunter replied. “I’m glad we all made it.”

  “I know, right?” Kris agreed. “I mean, what are the chances?”

  “That you’d make it?” Sukri replied. “Not great.”

  Thorius entered the room then. The room went quiet, all of the candidates turning to face the man. Thorius regarded the nine candidates silently for a moment, then cleared his throat.

  “You have passed the screening examination,” he declared. “Well done. You are now Initiates of the Guild of Seekers.” He smiled with his lips, but not his eyes. “This is a great honor. You should regard it as such.”

  The two other Seekers entered the room, each carrying a stack of neatly folded white uniforms. They lowered the stacks to the floor before the candidates, then left the room.

  “These are your uniforms,” Thorius explained. “They are white, signifying the purity of your being. You are as much yourself today as you ever will be.” He gave a grim smile. “I suggest you enjoy your self today. Treasure your final moments as you. I guarantee you they are your last.”

  He turned away then, walking toward the hallway they’d entered through.

  “You will return here at noon tomorrow,” he declared, disappearing down the hallway.

  The room was silent.

  Hunter glanced at Sukri, who shrugged.

  “Well, guess that’s it then,” she stated. “We did it.”

  “Yeah,” Gammon agreed. He looked troubled, however. “Are you guys feeling the way I’m feeling?”

  “If you mean kinda freaked out,” Kris replied. “Yeah.”

  “I wonder what he meant by all that,” Sukri stated. Gammon shook his head.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I don’t think I like it.”

  “Well,” Kris declared, putting an arm around Sukri’s shoulders…and around Gammon’s waist. “I for one am going to take his advice.”

  “What’s that?” Sukri asked.

  “I’m gonna enjoy myself,” he replied with a grin. “Who’s with me?”

  Chapter 7

  Dominus gazed out of the window of his carriage, watching as the trees passed slowly by. The clopping of horses’ hooves at the front of the carriage was soothing, he found. A gentle rhythm that usually lulled him to sleep. But this was no occasion for a nap. His shipment had been intercepted by Ironclad, necessitating that he retrieve it, assuming it had not been destroyed. That presented its own complications, of course. The shipment had been of a highly illegal artifact. There was only one person he trusted to have both the skill and discretion to retrieve it.

  The carriage rolled smoothly over the King’s Road, suspended twenty feet from the forest floor below. It was a marvelous feat of engineering, the carriage, designed to minimize the influence of the outside world. Its exterior was fashioned of thick, insulating wood, while the interior was made of a thin layer of cleansed stone. A block of King’s stone had been set just beneath the cushions of the carriage seats, providing further protection against corruption. A necessary precaution when traveling through the forest. Nature was a cruel, insidious thing, sinking its roots into every corner of the world. It was constantly seeking to break down the order of things, to reduce humanity to a mere animal, a lowly savage.

  The technology of the carriage, and of the King’s Road, was the only protection against such corruption.

  The clopping of the horses’ hooves continued as the carriage moved ever forward, and Dominus found himself contemplating the beasts. He’d read from the histories that people used to ride horses…that is, until they’d began to absorb the horses’ traits, and vice-versa. Now horses only moved humans via carriage, staying a few feet ahead to avoid corrupting the carriages and the driver. In addition, horses – as with all other domesticated animals – were bred and trained with minimal human contact. By peasants, of course. And domesticated animals were always kept together as much as possible, separated from other species to help preserve their unique qualities.

  Dominus heard a cough, turned to see Axio sitting in the seat beside
him. The boy had ridden in silence for the first few hours of the trip, for which Dominus was grateful. Axio’s silence was yet more evidence of his virtue. He was, Dominus decided, a suitable replacement.

  “What’s on your mind, Axio?” he inquired. The boy stirred.

  “The succession, my liege,” he answered.

  “Ah yes,” Dominus murmured. As with bees, so with men. His hive’s queen had died, its successor a failure. A new one would rise, fed of the royal jelly by its nurse bee, the glorious substance that had the power to make it the queen. The power to give it dominion over its hive, to control it utterly.

  Hail to the royal jelly, the humble queenmaker.

  “When will you be crowned, my liege?” Axio inquired. Dominus sighed.

  “We shall see, Axio,” he replied. “Better for you to concentrate on things you can control than those you cannot,” he added. “You’ll know far greater success in your life if you follow that advice.”

  “Yes my liege.”

  The forest gave way suddenly, the forest replaced by a vast stretch of barren wasteland. Yellow, cracked dirt as far as the eye could see, not a plant in sight.

  The Deadlands.

  He saw Axio turn to look out of the window, saw him gazing at the ruined land. Miles and miles of wasteland, a reminder of darker days. Of a war that had nearly destroyed them.

  “Half a century ago,” Dominus stated, “…when I was in my twenties, Tykus was a much larger city. Nearly three times its current size, in fact.”

  “Before the war,” Axio ventured.

  “Indeed,” Dominus confirmed. “My father was Duke, and I was as you are. Much of the Deadlands was once known as the Outskirts, a place similar to the unfortunate dwellings of the same name you know of today.”

  “So I’ve learned, my liege.”

  Dominus smiled. No doubt Axio had learned of the great civil war during his schooling. But learning history from a book was far different than having lived it. Lessons were far more poignant when they were experienced.

  “We made the mistake of allowing a relatively large population of immigrants into the city,” Dominus explained. “They provided a cheap source of labor, of course. And we never allowed them in the Acropolis, as is true today.”

  “But what of the threat they posed?” Axio inquired.

  “Indeed,” Dominus agreed. “Their influence threatened our identity as it does today. Why would we ever have been stupid enough to allow them within our city, even at the Outskirts?”

  Axio hesitated, then shook his head.

  “I don’t know, sire.”

  “People,” Dominus explained, “…are tools. Each has a role, a purpose. Humans crave purpose, Axio. Remember that.”

  “Yes my liege.”

  “Our ancestors believed that the threat posed by the Outskirts was containable,” Dominus continued. “Controllable. Indeed, it was the very threat the Outskirts posed that your ancestors hoped to use to their advantage.”

  “I don’t follow,” Axio admitted.

  “People are tribal, Axio,” Dominus stated. “They have loyalty first to their family, then their friends. Then their nation, their people. These constitute the ‘us.’” He gazed out of the window. “Beyond these psychic borders are the ‘them,’ those that do not belong.”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  “The very existence of peoples, of nations, of national identity, and customs, and everything that makes human society work,” Dominus continued, “…depends on an ‘us’ and a ‘them.’” He turned to Axio. “Without this distinction, there would be no nations, no borders, no patriotism, no national identity, no racial identity. Shared customs would be fluid, would vanish after a generation or two.”

  “Indeed,” Axio agreed.

  “There is no social animal in existence that does not recognize an ‘us’ and a ‘them,’” Dominus declared. “Animals have territories that they defend, sometimes dying to protect them. Even the humble honeybee has its hive, a family so pure that every member shares the same mother, the queen. The queen only mates with males from the hive, males of its own stock.”

  “I see.”

  “This is the essence of Tykus,” Dominus explained. “It is a kingdom in which every pure citizen has a shared identity…that of its first king, its very founder. A bloodline thousands of years old, preserved perfectly even today through Tykus’s very flesh.”

  “The Ossae.”

  “Correct,” Dominus replied. “The bones of Tykus, preserved in the heart of the kingdom. His will lives within them. Each king must give himself to the Ossae, surrender his very self to them. In that way, each successor to the crown will essentially become Tykus, and continue his rule.”

  “But what of the Outskirts?” Axio pressed. “You said our ancestors hoped to use the threat they posed as an advantage?”

  “Indeed,” Dominus confirmed. “Our citizens must always be reminded of who they are. Of the value of their identity,” he added. “They must see the ‘us,’ and the ‘them.’ Our ancestors, my father among them, believed quite correctly that in allowing outsiders to live in the Outskirts, that it would remind our citizens of the constant threat they imposed.” He smiled. “There is no greater tool to a government than providing its people with an enemy. A ‘them’ they can band together with their brethren against. A threat to their identity, their way of life.”

  “To what end, my liege?”

  “To maintain control over the populace,” Dominus explained. “To preserve patriotism, and to remind citizens of the value of their government, of their way of life. Without such a threat, the people would become complacent, no longer fearing the loss of their identity. The government, and its people, would slowly collapse.”

  “So they allowed the outsiders to live at the edge of the city,” Axio deduced. Dominus nodded.

  “And the constant threat of corruption…of the will of all of those outsiders…would drive Tykus’s true citizens further into the love of Tykus, clinging desperately to the shared traits that made them a great people.”

  “But it didn’t work,” Axio protested.

  “It did,” Dominus countered. “As it does today. The error was in allowing too great a population of immigrants within the kingdom. Recall what I said about peasants, Axio.”

  “That they are subservient by choice?”

  “Correct,” Dominus replied. “You believed that they have no choice but to be subservient to their lords.”

  “And you said the only man without a choice is a dead man,” Axio recalled.

  “You paid attention,” Dominus noted approvingly. “Again, correct. All it takes for peasants to have power is for a man – or woman – with a formidable will to show them that they do have a choice. That they have power.” He sighed. “This is exactly what happened fifty years ago.”

  “The Original,” Axio murmured.

  “Yes,” Dominus agreed. “The Original showed the peasants their true power. And their population was large enough that their power was considerable.”

  “So we allow the Outskirts,” Axio concluded, “…but keep their population small.”

  “That’s right,” Dominus agreed. “Too small to pose a real threat, while maintaining the value of their perceived threat.”

  “I understand, my liege.”

  “Good,” Dominus replied. He sighed then, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, knowing that Axio would recognize this as the end of their conversation. He had a great deal of thinking to do before they reached the Acropolis. He’d been planning this trip since long before the king had died. Since the moment the great man had fallen ill years ago. Transitions were always dangerous times. There was a great deal he needed to accomplish, and it would not be easy…particularly the matter of his wayward son.

  The fate of Tykus hung in the balance.

  * * *

  Hunter sighed, flopping unceremoniously onto his narrow bed. He stared up at the ceiling, his head swimming a little. Everyone h
ad gone out to have a few drinks to celebrate after becoming initiates of the guild, and while Hunter had of course stolen a few swigs from his dad’s considerable stash in the past, he was a lightweight compared to his new friends. Thank god Gammon had helped him get home, otherwise he was pretty sure he’d have stumbled off the docks and into the water. The big guy apparently didn’t drink, which was fortunate.

  Hunter yawned, rolling onto his side, facing the door. The sun was already low in the sky, the light fading as night approached. Trixie was supposed to be here soon, for which he was immensely grateful. He’d missed her the whole day, wanting nothing more than to be with her again, to feel her gentle touch, her soft kiss.

  He closed his eyes, picturing her. Or trying to. Instead, the woman who’d approached him in the Guild of Seekers came to his mind’s eye, a spitting image of Trixie. If she’d pretended to be Trixie, he probably wouldn’t have known any better. And then he might have done something he would’ve regretted.

  Maybe that was the test, he thought. Maybe they knew about Trixie, and were trying to fool me.

  It wasn’t likely, of course. There’d been so many candidates that day, they couldn’t have researched all of them. And besides, he’d only been here for a couple days, and had slept with Trixie just last night. There was no way the Seekers could’ve know about that.

  So why had that woman been at his test?

  Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

  Hunter groaned, getting up out of bed and unlocking and opening the door. Sure enough, Trixie was there. She smiled at him, stepping into the room and leaning in to give him kiss. He allowed this, but didn’t exactly kiss her back. She pulled away, frowning at him.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No,” Hunter replied automatically. Then he grimaced. “Or actually, yes. Maybe.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she pressed. He sighed, walking up to his bed and sitting down on the edge. She sat down next to him, putting a warm hand on his knee.