Ordained (The Immortal Archives)

by Devon Ashley

  Emily fought the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head. “Ethan, I left this school nine years ago. I don’t bloody care about competing with hunters I grew up training with. Who the hell cares who’s best? You’re not gonna fire any of the losers. We’re in limited supply. I believe the real world calls that job security.”

  “You can’t leave. You’re here for a purpose.” Ethan reached for the cream in the center of the table and began stirring it into his coffee.

  Emily sighed. She was tired, stressed and becoming more impatient with each passing day. “Let’s just cut the crap. I’m here for one reason.”

  “Charm school?” Ethan interrupted. “I’m afraid you missed that class. It was last month.”

  She looked him firmly in the eyes. “Has the containment spell surrounding Morphus worn off yet?” She had him at the name.

  Dumbfounded, he slowly extended each word twice longer than necessary, “How the hell do you know about him?”

  Chapter Four

  Chancellor Moore stared down the coffee pot in his office, commanding the dripping to stop. He needed his coffee. Contemplating the morning’s issues was going to require an attention span he no longer seemed to have.

  He had spent forty-two years developing young children into full grown hunters, knowing full well that each and every one of them would perish on their twenty-fifth birthday. None of his pupils were any more remarkable than the others training in the school. Perhaps that was his fault. For forty-two years he taught them to defeat vampires but not the demon destined to kill them.

  Long ago, after several years of death, the Order was simply upset. After ten years, they were desperate for help. After one hundred years, it had long been accepted that Eraticus was undefeatable and hunters were destined to die. Five hundred years later, death was absolute and hunters were automatically replaced after twenty-five years. Eight hunters had died under his direct expertise. Their memories were burned into his thoughts with no chance of relent. Robert, Lilley, Willis, Kierse, Irma, Bethany, Mallory, Amanda. For forty-two years he failed them. Then, something remarkable and unexpected happened.

  Emily Davis was good, well skilled, he had to admit. But compared to every other hunter released over his time here, she seemed no better, no more special than the rest. Yet she alone returned. She alone gave him hope for the future of the Order. For the first time since he took over the post of Chancellor, he was able to rest - at least momentarily.

  For within two years he learned the time for Morphus had come, a foe far more deadly and devastating than Eraticus had ever been. Far beyond Emily’s capabilities, he was sure. How he desperately wanted her to prove she was the ordained huntress destined to fight him. But alas, none of the hunters at his disposal were this precious fighter. Emily would have to do, for she was the best they had to work with.

  At first light, Ethan had awakened him to the discouraging news that Emily was threatening to leave. Knowing full well that Ethan had been losing control over her for the past two years, he thought it best for Ethan to try to assert some authority over her by himself. But then he returned a little later and informed him that Emily was inquiring about Morphus’ rising.

  He was rather surprised, but hopeful once more. He and all Chancellors’ before him had always been so careful. The subject was never spoken of but in complete secrecy. All written material had been kept under lock and key. It wasn’t completely surprising that Emily, of all the hunters, made this discovery. Surely she was curious for the reason why a vampire hunter would be forced to confront a demon. There was a demonic organization in place that dealt with demons, just as hunters dealt with vampires. She was trained to deal with only vampires.

  But here it was, out in the open, the secret kept from all hunters for eternity. Hunters unknowingly have a history with two demons. One now dead, one still in hibernation - he hoped. The Order had successfully kept these demons secret for all time; Eraticus for five hundred years, Morphus for thousands.

  Moore was drinking his second cup of coffee by the time his guests arrived. Ethan and Emily were accompanied by Jayden, who retreated to the back of the office for observation. Ethan took up residence in one of the elaborate velvet chairs, Emily nonchalantly browsed the bookshelves. He wasn’t fooled by her cool interest in the collection, but he had nothing to worry about. The subject she sought would not be found in the shelves for the casual eye.

  “Emily, may I inquire as to how you have come to learn about Morphus?”

  “Eraticus made me curious about some things.” She turned to him and sarcastically added, “Thanks for that, by the way.”

  He supposed he deserved that. “Would you have really wanted to know the exact day you were expected to die?” Emily’s interest was more into the books than the discussion. After a few seconds of silence, it was obvious she wasn’t going to respond. Moore beseeched her again. “How exactly did you come about this information?”

  She reluctantly sat in the velvet chair next to Ethan. “Look, you’re gonna need help. A lot of help. You’ve got a handful of inexperienced hunters to offer up for slaughter but we all know it’s not enough. I’ve accepted the fact that hunters have a short expiration date, but quite frankly, I’m not ready to die yet. And if exposing you to your worst fear means I may get to survive mine, then you’re gonna ask Abby for help.”

  Moore thought. He certainly couldn’t think of any Abby that would lead him to fear her. By the look on Ethan’s face, he too was having difficulty attaching the name to a corresponding memory. “Abby? Is she a demonic warrior?”

  “No. She’s a vampire huntress.” Emily replied, followed by a half smile. Her tense body lay back with ease.

  Memories suddenly rushed his head. None that he had witnessed personally, but accounts of stories told to him in secrecy by the Chancellor before him, who in turn was told by the Chancellor that preceded him, and so on for the past two hundred years. Even advisors were not privileged to the delicate information.

  Confused, Ethan replied, “Abby? We’ve never had an Abby.”

  “No,” Moore paused, his speech reluctant to release the forbidden information. “But we have had an Abigail.”

  Jayden suddenly became attentive to the conversation, which slightly annoyed Moore. Everyone had been a little on edge lately. Each had their own way of dealing with the stress, but Jayden’s response seemed to have included apathy and insubordination - very unlike his normal subservient demeanor.

  To Ethan, he explained, “We have had only one Abigail since the hunter line began.” Switching his focus to Emily, he continued, “I was told that she too died against Eraticus.”

  “Really?” Emily mocked, crossing her arms. “Did you ever find a body?”

  “Her whereabouts were unknown to the Order during the years that preceded her death.”

  A sense of annoyance overcame Emily’s face. “You keep saying that like she’s actually dead.”

  His forehead creased as his eyes sharpened. Surely she was. She was the one hunter the Order had hoped could defeat Eraticus. Apparently she was the most skilled hunter to have ever been produced, but when subsequent hunters in birth rank continued to fall on their twenty-fifth birthday, it was determined that she too must have fallen. Eraticus didn’t simply skip a hunter, particularly one with an aura as strong as Abigail’s. Hers would have fed him for a long time.

  He turned the key to a hidden locked drawer within the desk and pulled out an aged journal. The moleskin edges were rolled up and the ratty journal spilled a few of its pages as he untied the thin straps. He flipped to page thirty-four, to a passage accompanied by a hand-drawn portrait of a teenage girl, no older than fifteen. She had an angelic face but her eyes were drawn cold and sullen, almost evil. The name Abigail Sorrensten was written in calligraphy underneath the portrait.

  Moore passed it to Emily. “Is this the Abigail you speak of?”

  Jayden and Ethan angled to study the journal from a distance.

  Em
ily needed but a second. “Yes.”

  Moore closed his eyes briefly. He was beginning to understand why Emily thought the Order would fear Abigail’s return, should she truly be alive.

  Ethan’s eyes squinted to read the date on the journal. “This can’t be right. This was drawn in 1809. That would mean she was born in the eighteenth century.”

  To his surprise, Emily did a double-take on the journal entry.

  “1794 to be exact,” said the Chancellor.

  Emily’s face recoiled back to normal. Her knowledge was so extensive that she couldn’t have come upon the information on her own. Someone was feeding it to her, someone who had managed to unearth these secrets. If it really was Abigail, she would be more than two hundred years old, a feat that would make her immortal. A hunter, immortal, when all others have fallen but twenty-something years in.

  Emily flipped to the following page, to another portrait, one of a man in his mid-thirties. A kinder rendition than the artist gave on the previous page. The drawing of Noel Berekin showed confidence and humanity.

  Emily passed the journal back to Moore. “Here. You’ll be asking for him too.”

  “Noel is alive as well?”

  Curious. Noel had been Abigail’s guardian from childhood that was asked to collect her at sixteen. How could a hunter and an honorary advisor from different genetic lines be alive to this day? Surely a magical reason was the cause. Or reincarnation. Was this the original Abigail or a recycled version of some type?

  Better the latter, for the former would surely kill them all.

  Chapter Five

  Outside the wind lashed a mixture of rain and snow against the structure. The windows whistled at Emily as she traveled through the hallway on the exterior of the manor. A huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She hated lying to her friends about Eraticus. They had asked her over and over again to tell them the tale of the greatest fight their organization had ever known. She tried to avoid it but it always came up in conversation. As the weeks went by, Emily removed herself from the common areas and sought solitude. It was with great relief, after her meeting with Ethan and the Chancellor, that she could pull Darby and Mira aside and tell them the truth about what happened that devastating night.

  “You mean to tell me there’s a vampire huntress out there none of us have ever met? And she saved your life?” Darby was astonished.

  “In more ways than one,” Emily mumbled, drawing her knees in tighter to her chest.

  “Do you think there are more out there?” Mira asked excitedly. “We always assumed the Order knew when one was being born, but maybe they miss a few here and there.”

  “Maybe,” Emily replied, knowing full well that wasn’t the case this time. She had almost been completely honest with them. She kept Abby’s age to herself. “Anyways, she may be coming here, so if she does, I’d appreciate it if you would spread the word to the others not to hound her. She and Noel are very private people.”

  “So what do you know about them anyway?”

  Emily had been asking herself that same question ever since she learned their ages. She apparently didn’t know them as well as she thought. But they had saved her life. She wasn’t going to start doubting them now.

  “Just what I’ve already told you,” she lied. “Abby is a huntress and Noel is her advisor. They’re out there doing the same thing we are.”

  “Since when does an advisor go into the field?” asked Darby. “I thought they were strictly school bound.”

  “That is weird. She wasn’t here at school yet she found some type of trainer to teach her and guide her out there?” After a moment of hesitation, Mira added dreamily, “Why didn’t I get that deal?”

  Emily and Darby chuckled in agreement. It felt good to spend time with them again. She had been avoiding them mostly to keep from lying. Unfortunately, she still was. But it seemed less burdensome now.

  After an hour she left them to see what was going on in the conference room. Upon leaving Chancellor Moore’s office earlier that morning, she had overheard him ask Jayden to round up the advisors for a meeting.

  Down another dark hallway, she opened the door to a large coat room. Given the vast number of vintage jackets, scarves, mittens and umbrellas, Emily was certain the room had long been ignored by the current residents. She closed the door behind her, shoved some accessories out of the way and cleared an opening to the ornate air vent in the back of the closet.

  She had found this vent during a game of hide-n-seek when she was nine. It seemed so long ago. She wished she could say it was a time of innocence. Most children that age were playing Marco Polo in the local swimming pool, indulging in succulent sweets from the ice cream man and watching new episodes of The Simpsons each week. Hunters? They were dodging arrows and learning how to make weapons from the barest of materials, like aluminum cans and tree limbs.

  What spare time she had growing up was always spent with her two best friends. She had always been closer to Darby, mainly because they were roommates. But Mira often made an appearance as well, due to her roommate Calley being somewhat moody and self-indulgent. They trusted each other with their lives, their secrets. Emily couldn’t help but wonder why she always kept this vent to herself. Up until the day she left school, it had been the only secret she had never shared.

  The vent was in the top rear corner of the conference room, giving her full view of the meeting. Chancellor Moore was at the head of the table, the advisors lined the sides and Jayden brought up the rear.

  Damn it, she was late. They had clearly been in session for a while now; the majority of the advisors bore glum expressions. Emily was disappointed. She wanted to see their faces when Chancellor Moore told them about Abby.

  Emily didn’t know all the details of Abby’s horrific past, but Noel had told her not to ask Abby any questions. “Abby has forgotten everything about the school and the Order and I want to keep it that way. I only tell you now to keep you from discussing these things with her. We don’t want her to remember.” Hell, neither did Emily. She was sure her experience varied greatly from Abby’s, but still, Emily wasn’t interested in visiting her own path down memory lane, let alone someone else’s.

  Emily could barely hear Chancellor Moore. She had to press her ear directly on the vent.

  Jonesy was the first audible voice she heard. “You aren’t seriously thinking of bringing her here, are you? She was kicked out for good reason. She murdered-”

  Murdered?

  Groaning, Marie quickly cut him off. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear that gruesome tale again.”

  “Are we sure it’s really her?” asked Brit doubtfully.

  “I suppose we won’t know for sure unless she comes,” answered the Chancellor. “If it is, she has proven irreplaceable. She alone defeated Eraticus. That’s something hundreds of hunters failed at.”

  “How could she not die like the others? Did he miss her?” wondered Merle, though the tone in his voice doubted it.

  “I find it hard to believe Eraticus just happened to miss the one hunter that is alive and kicking to this day,” Lincoln alleged. “I’m willing to bet she fell to him just like the others but managed to find a magical out to cheat death.”

  “Reincarnation?” the Chancellor suggested.

  “Possibly. What do we know about this Noel? If he’s alive as well, it may be his doing, not hers,” said Lincoln.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Marie. “It doesn’t change history. She’s unstable. We won’t feel safe living in the same quarters with her.”

  The Chancellor contemplated for a moment. “Regardless of what happened in the past, we no longer have the ordained huntress. Our hunters are not sufficient. We need someone like Abigail.”

  The advisors fell silent and fearfully glanced at one another. The two women in particular were uneasy at the prospect of embracing the couple in question.

  Chancellor Moore continued. “There are two ways to vote on this. Either we invite Abigail he
re to confront Morphus, or we sacrifice every hunter we have now to try to do the same. Whose life would you rather risk?”

  The advisors glanced awkwardly at one another, slowly contemplating. None were brave enough to verbally rebut.

  Finally, Susan found her voice. “Well, maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll kill each other in battle.”

  Evil witch. Emily never did like Susan - so cold and impersonal. She was always grateful she didn’t fall under her supervision. Didn’t the twit realize that if we died, the advisors would die too? Abby may be the only one who can make a dent in Morphus and they wished her death in return!

  Emily pushed herself off the floor and left the closet to wander and think. The hallways in the manor were in need of attention. Like all aspects of this place, they were aged and dark. Old fashioned oil-burning lanterns were spaced far apart, allowing the shadows to come and go as they pleased. Sometimes they danced around playfully, other times they stopped and stared. Did they see her the way she saw them? The one slowly flickering towards her made her think they did. She shook her head as if caught in a daze and continued on. This place is gonna drive me to the nut house!

  She focused her attention on everything but the shadows. Weapons adorned every wall, part for admiration, part for protection. Sickles, spears, scythes, battle axes, tridents, swords, throwing daggers and stars - a weapon always within reach if needed. A little odd, since the manor had always been under magical protection from evil. If needed, they would most likely be used on nothing more than the common man. Not to mention the possibility of arming those whom you wish to attack. It seemed dim-witted.

  Friezes and sculptures of Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom and War, were portrayed throughout the manor, donning her armor and helmet. She was the only god celebrated by the hunter lineage. She was truly a brilliant strategist in war, but the hunters often questioned why they didn’t honor the true God of War, Ares. None of the advisors ever offered an explanation - probably didn’t know themselves and didn’t want to admit it.