Hunter of Legends (Fate of Legends Series Book 1)

by Clayton Wood

  Vi walked right up to the carriage, stopping before it, and Hunter stopped at her side, waiting for her to say something. She turned to him, a rare smile curling her lips.

  “You’re learning,” she observed.

  “Alright,” he stated, gesturing at the carriage and trying not to show his irritation. “I know you’re going to tell me what we’re doing here.”

  “You’re blind,” she stated. “I’m going to teach you how to see.” Hunter blinked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You have no sense of what’s around you,” Vi explained. “The traits that objects and people around you have absorbed and radiate. It makes you an easy target,” she added. “You’re affected by objects without even realizing it.”

  Hunter nodded grudgingly. He hadn’t even realized Trixie’s effect on him, or the power of Thorius’s crystal sphere. He wouldn’t have had a clue that the Fringe could make him angry and hate other people if Sukri hadn’t warned him first.

  “If you’re aware of the properties of the things around you,” Vi continued, “…you can learn to either manage their effects on you, or avoid getting close to objects with negative effects.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “How are you feeling now?” she asked.

  “Irritated,” he answered. “It’s the forest, isn’t it,” he added. Vi nodded.

  “The Fringe hates humans,” she agreed.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” she promised. “Touch the carriage,” she ordered. Hunter hesitated, then complied, walking up to the side of the carriage and touching one of the wheels. “Close your eyes…tell me how you’re feeling.”

  Hunter did so, feeling the warm wood on his hand. He was still irritated, but he didn’t feel much else. After a moment, his mind wandered, and he pictured the Ironclad that had attacked them, so close to where they were now. How it’d ambushed them, coming from nowhere and tossing them around like rag dolls. He felt a pang of fear at the thought, suddenly wondering if any more of the beasts were near. What if it attacked them again? What if it managed to kill Vi?

  “Talk to me,” Vi ordered.

  “Sorry, I kinda spaced out,” Hunter admitted.

  “What do you feel?”

  “Fear,” he confessed. “I was remembering what happened yesterday.”

  “Okay,” she replied. “Let me know if you feel anything else.”

  He waited, keeping his eyes closed. Sukri had jumped up onto the carriage before the Ironclad had attacked. He pictured her hopping onto the side of the carriage, opening the door and jumping down. It’d been empty…no bodies. Some blood on the seat cushions, and on the inside of the carriage door. He felt another pang of fear, much more powerful now.

  Something bad was going to happen…and soon.

  Hunter opened his eyes, jerking his hand away from the wheel. He glanced around the forest, his heart pounding in his chest.

  “Well?” Vi pressed. He turned to her, realizing she was staring at him, her hands on her hips.

  “We should get out of here,” he replied, rubbing sweating palms on his pants. “The Ironclad might come back.”

  “You’re freaking out.”

  “No I’m not,” he retorted. “The…”

  “You’re panicking,” Vi interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. He tried to pull away, but she moved with him. His heart slowed, the profound sense of doom slipping away gradually. He stared at her, then at the carriage.

  “Shit,” he mumbled.

  “Now how do you feel?” she pressed.

  “Better,” he admitted. “You’re doing that, aren’t you?” She nodded.

  “See how you keep reacting as if the emotions came from you instead of outside of you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We need to work on that,” she stated. Hunter nodded, realizing she was right. He’d been manipulated again.

  “How?” he asked.

  “It’s all about your mindset,” she answered. “You’re a reactionary person. You let things effect you, react, then think later.”

  Hunter lowered his gaze, remembering how he’d acted in the bar yesterday. How he’d gotten suspended after beating the crap out of Tyler at school.

  “You don’t have to act on every emotion you feel,” Vi continued. “Emotions are temporary. They come and go. That’s why they’re absorbed so easily…emotions aren’t permanent, they aren’t like your personality, or your appearance.”

  “Okay.”

  “You need to learn to experience an emotion without acting on it,” Vi continued. “That way you can sense emotions in objects and people without being manipulated by them.”

  “How do I do that?” he pressed. Vi smirked.

  “Same way as anything else,” she answered. “Practice.”

  “Show me.”

  “Touch the carriage again,” she ordered. He hesitated, then did so, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. “Close your eyes,” she added. “Now breath in through your nose, out through your mouth…slowly. Concentrate on how it feels.”

  He complied, feeling air come in through his nostrils, his chest expanding as his lungs filled with air. Then he let the breath go, feeling warm, moist air pass his lips.

  “When you have a thought or a feeling,” Vi continued, “…you’ll stop focusing on your breathing. Don’t get frustrated, just return to focusing on your breathing…how it feels. Let your thoughts and emotions be in the background.”

  Hunter continued breathing in and out. He felt a pang of trepidation, felt his concentration wavering, but refocused on the air coming in through his nostrils, the feeling of his chest expanding. He let the breath out, feeling another pang of fear…but he refocused on his breathing again, taking another breath in.

  The Ironclad called its friends, he thought. They’ll be here soon.

  He felt his heart start to race, and nearly opened his eyes. Instead, he tightened his grip on the wheel, gritting his teeth.

  Breathe in, he thought, feeling the air coming through his nose. Breathe out.

  He could feel the panic in the periphery of his mind, demanding to be let in. He felt its urgency, knew that if he didn’t address it, something terrible would happen. He pictured himself riding in the carriage, felt it suddenly lurch to the side. Felt it topple over, throwing him sidelong into the carriage door below. Pain shooting through his right shoulder, terror gripping him.

  He cried out, letting go of the wheel and stumbling backward. He felt hands on his shoulders, and spun around to see Vi standing before him.

  “Calm down,” she soothed.

  The terror seeped out of him, a sense of profound calmness washing over him. He realized his whole body was rigid, and relaxed, giving her a rueful smile.

  “Thanks,” he muttered. “This shit’s hard.”

  “You did better,” she replied approvingly. He nodded.

  “The breathing helped a little,” he admitted. “Until my mind started playing tricks on me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I imagined being in the carriage when the Ironclad attacked,” he replied. “Freaked myself out.”

  Vi frowned, staring at him with her exotic green eyes for a long moment. Then she pulled him away from the carriage.

  “Come on,” she prompted. “The guild is going to send Seekers to find your body. We shouldn’t be here when they come.” She began walking, and he jogged to catch up with her, walking at her side.

  “How do you know that?”

  “That’s what I would do,” she answered. “Whoever sent you here is going to want to make sure you’re dead. We don’t want them knowing you’re still alive…not yet, anyway.”

  They trudged through the forest, leaving the carriage behind. Hunter stared at the forest floor as he walked, feeling daunted by how difficult it’d been to stay calm in the presence of the carriage. How Thorius and Vi were able to manage such powerful emotions was beyond him. He wondered if he’d e
ver be able to manage his…or if he’d just be a slave to them for the rest of his life. Especially his damn temper.

  “Well aren’t you optimistic,” Vi stated suddenly, yanking him from his reverie. He blinked, glancing at her.

  “Huh?”

  “Time for your next lesson,” she replied, ignoring his questioning look. “You can sense emotions in objects and people by figuring out how you feel after being close to them. If someone’s anxious, you’ll start feeling anxious. If they’re depressed, you’ll feel depressed.”

  “Okay.”

  “If they’re angry at you, you’ll get angry at them,” she continued. “The same goes with objects that have absorbed emotions.” She eyed him critically. “The problem is, you don’t see objects as having feelings. You need to start treating inanimate things like people.”

  “It’s hard for me,” he countered. “I’m not from here.”

  “Everything hard becomes easier with practice,” Vi replied. “Now, certain objects store traits much more easily than others…and transmit them easily as well. Generally speaking, the denser an object, the more it stores and transmits.”

  “Like stone,” Hunter offered. Vi nodded.

  “Be very careful around stone,” she warned. “It can be extremely dangerous. Stone in Tykus isn’t so dangerous…most of it has been engineered to transmit traits the kingdom finds useful to control the people.”

  “Like at the church?”

  “Exactly,” Vi agreed. “But out here, stone could have absorbed anything. And it isn’t just emotion you need to worry about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have a strong personality…what we call ‘will,’” she replied, “…so you don’t need to worry about absorbing other personalities too much. But that isn’t the case for most people. Most people are like sheep, bending to the will of others, desperate to fit in. The kingdom takes advantage of that, believe me.”

  “How so?”

  “People are all too eager to be told what to do,” Vi answered. “They swallow everything the ruling class tells them without digesting it, without really questioning it.” She shook her head. “They deserve everything they get,” she added. “Slaving away for nothing while the people in the Acropolis take almost everything, throwing them scraps every once and a while to keep them from revolting. It’s the same old story in every kingdom. Believe me, I’ve been to more than a few.”

  They reached the steep, rocky decline they’d traversed last night, and Vi sprinted down it easily. Hunter made his way slowly as before, but this time she waited for him before resuming their walk.

  “People are sheep,” Vi continued. “Never forget that.”

  “At least you’re not bitter,” Hunter quipped.

  “My point is,” she replied, ignoring him, “…you don’t have to worry about absorbing people’s personalities too much, but you do have to realize that anyone with a weak will is going to absorb your personality.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “They’ll start acting like you,” she explained. “Agreeing with your point of view. After a while, they’ll start thinking like you.”

  “That’s not creepy at all,” he muttered.

  “You can tell the emotions that something is radiating by how you feel around them,” she continued. “And you can tell how strong someone’s will is by how they change when they’re around you.”

  “But if someone has a stronger will than me, I’d start being like them, right?” She nodded.

  “And unless you’re trained, you wouldn’t even realize it was happening,” she replied.

  “Well shit,” he grumbled. “How do I stop from changing people?”

  “Stay away from them.”

  “Really?” he pressed. “There’s no other way?”

  “Nope.”

  “But I don’t want to change other people like that,” he protested. And he sure as hell didn’t want his personality changed. He took a step away from Vi, eyeing her warily. Had she changed him? She’d said her personality was strong, after all. She must’ve noticed his trepidation.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “You’re not going to change me.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  “Then don’t get too close,” she replied. She shoved him playfully then, smirking at him. “You’ll be alright,” she reassured. “We’ve both got strong personalities.”

  “Somehow I don’t feel better,” he grumbled. The idea that someone could change him…change who he was, was profoundly disturbing.

  “This is the way the world works,” she stated. “You don’t have to like it, but you do have to live with it.”

  “Fair enough,” he replied. “So now what?”

  “We’ve talked about emotions and personality,” Vi replied. “But there are many other types of traits that can be transmitted.” She turned forward then, and so did Hunter. The forest was ending…and beyond, Hunter could see the canyon. She made her way up to the edge, turning to the left to reach the path spiraling downward. Hunter followed behind, feeling less trepidation than he had the first time.

  “Like skills?” he asked.

  “Exactly,” Vi agreed. “Something that you,” she added, “…are in desperate need of.”

  “Gee, thanks. You’re so encouraging.”

  “Yeah, well,” she replied. “You’re going to have to learn to fight if you want to stand a chance against the Ironclad. Come on,” she added. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  Chapter 19

  Seeker Draken strode up the gradual incline from the Deadlands to the Fringe, wiping sweat from his forehead. He glanced at Seeker Jarl, a middle-aged man with short blond hair and a trimmed goatee. They’d been walking side-by-side for the last few hours through the Deadlands in the hot afternoon sun. With packs and weapons, it was a demanding hike…even for a Seeker. He’d found himself enjoying the challenge, a welcome change from the routine of the guild. Being called back from active duty to train the newest batch of initiates wasn’t exactly physically demanding. He’d much rather be fulfilling contracts for his clients, but when the guild called, he was duty-bound to answer.

  “Hope this is quick,” Jarl said as they entered the forest.

  “Should be,” Draken replied. “Carriage is only a few kilometers from here.”

  “Was it your initiate that died?” Jarl asked.

  “Nah,” Draken answered. “It was the party boy and the dark kid.”

  “Damn,” Jarl muttered. “Were they any good?” Draken shrugged.

  “Mediocre,” he replied. “Dark kid had promise, but his attitude sucked. I knew the party boy wouldn’t make the cut. Never thought they’d end up dead though.”

  “Still don’t get why Thorius sent brand-new initiates to the Fringe,” Jarl muttered. “Like throwing your baby at a pack of wolves.” He shook his head. “That’s not a Trial, it’s an execution.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Draken replied. “Thorius is no fool though,” he added. “If you ask me, he wanted them dead.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I bet that’s why we’re out here,” Draken continued. “Thorius didn’t want to disqualify my initiate or the big guy, or he would’ve already done it.”

  “So he wanted the party boy or the dark kid dead,” Jarl reasoned.

  “My thought exactly,” Draken agreed. “Party boy wasn’t worth killing, but the dark kid…that’s my bet.”

  “So we find the bodies and get out.”

  ‘Yeah,” Draken confirmed. “Hopefully they’re still around,” he added.

  “Think the Ironclad ate them?” Jarl asked. Draken shrugged.

  “No clue,” he admitted. “I just know they have a habit of stealing human corpses.”

  “They’re just big bugs, right? What do bugs eat?”

  “Couldn’t tell you,” Draken admitted. “Looks like we’re getting close,” he added, gesturing ahead. The narrow dirt path extended forward through
the forest ahead, and in the distance he spotted something to one side of it. A carriage on its side. “You keep watch,” Draken ordered. “I’ll find the bodies.”

  Jarl nodded.

  Draken strode forward slowly, scanning the forest carefully. It was deserted, the gentle hills of the surrounding terrain littered with a thick bed of fallen branches and leaves. The trees grew densely here, tangled vines hanging from them. He glanced back at Jarl, suppressing a flash of irritation at the man. It was the forest, he knew…it’s anger, it’s hatred, was seeping into him. He ignored the emotion, concentrating at the task at hand.

  He spotted something on the forest floor, a slight irregularity to the side of the road. He strode up to it, kneeling down.

  It was an arm.

  Draken studied it, feeling a twinge of fear. He noted the emotion, then discarded it, knowing it was coming from the arm itself…and the surrounding soil. The arm was pale, torn off at the mid-humerus. Covered in bugs. It had to be party-boy’s. The kid had been terrified right before he’d died, of course. That explained what Draken was feeling now.

  He stood, spotting another, larger shape in the grass, and walked up to it. It was the rest of the body…and it was party-boy.

  One down, one to go.

  He continued toward the carriage, walking up to it, feeling that slight sense of fear weaken, then strengthen again as he drew near. He felt a spike of anger as well…whoever had attacked the carriage had been furious. Draken studied the carriage, surveying the damage. Then he started walking in a loose spiral, starting at the carriage and moving outward. The dark kid’s body should be somewhere nearby, but it might be easy to miss in the hilly terrain, and with so much leaf litter. If he wanted to find it, he’d have to be methodical.