Chương 85: The Cradle

Wretch ran across an empty street, dim gas lamps illuminating the gray cobblestone of the Lows. The houses were worn, and their doors closed, marked by circles of ash. Something was hunting him. A beast. He threw himself up a drainage pipe with his breath caught in his throat. The hands before him were human. He climbed upwards, up towards the spires above, but they only seemed to stretch further away. The presence followed, hungry and hateful. His grip slipped, and he tumbled down into the dark.

His back hit the mud hard enough to expel the breath from his lungs. He struggled to his feet. He was in an alleyway, one without exits. A gasp came from behind him, followed by a wet crunch. Slowly, he turned. A hunched figure in a hunter's coat tore into the bloodied abdomen of a woman in uniform. She stared at him with glassy eyes. Only then did he realize how small he was. Like a child. The figure feasting on the guts froze. A long tongue licked across a hairy claw dripping with gore.

The creature turned, glowing eyes and a mouth dripping blood between sharp teeth. It was him. He sat up with a gasp, his heart pumping like the axis of a steam engine. Warm yellow light was streaking through the blinds onto the bed. It must have been morning, though he couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep. Whiskey stood to the side, watching him.

"Damn it all, it's only been a few weeks. Give me more time," he thought as the details of the visions blurred into nothingness, leaving only a racing heart and sheets soaked in sweat. He turned to the mirror, or where it used to be, its outline still visible on the old walls. He had moved it down to the training room. With every passing day since they had returned, he had found the reflection more and more unsettling. The teeth sharper, the back more hunched. Its facial features grotesque and inhuman.

Just a little more, Blaze will fix everything, he thought, curling up on the bed as the cat circled him with vibrating purrs. He looked inside himself, past the flesh, past the horrors slain. Even past the flame. He had grown adept at blocking its whispers. Now, at full strength, it was barely a murmur scratching at his consciousness like rats under the floorboards. Beneath it all was a hollow space where things had been hidden since times past. A growing mass of once treasured emotions.

They were different: hunger, hatred, greed, but all urged for the same thing. To hurt.

"I protected you so deeply in that cage," he whispered.

"I've killed so many things since."

"And now you want to consume me? I'll take on another change, brandish a second set of arms, more eyes and teeth. Just let me be a while longer." The cat pressed itself against his scaled chest harder than ever before, and suddenly he realized a kettle whistled close by. He gave a deep sigh and shook his head violently, stumbling out of the bed. These thoughts, they had been kept in check out there in the wilds. But here in the safety of civilization, they revolted against his rule.

On a chair lay the clothes he had prepared the night before, a simple shirt and black vest with a matching pair of pants. It was the outfit he preferred on missions. After putting it all on, he picked up his black sunglasses and placed them in his breast pocket. He opened the creaking door to the living room, and a scent of black coffee caressed his senses. Edmund was first to wake up, like always. He stood by the kitchen counter, fully dressed and pouring the dark liquid into a cup. He looked up as Wretch entered.

"Coffee?" he asked. Wretch nodded as he forced down a yawn.

"You slept well? We have a lot of sightseeing to do today," Edmund said as he brought forth another mug, filling it with the steaming beverage.

"It's fine," Wretch said with a forced smile as he took the cup from the Captain's hand. They both sat down on the sofa as Whiskey jumped up to meet them.

"Yesterday was strange, but having thought of it, I guess I should be thankful," the Captain said.

"The seven thousand pounds?" Wretch asked as he sipped his coffee. Edmund flashed a wide smile.

"That is part of it. But also, my father never told me that something like the Hunter Corps existed. He didn't go beyond Fireling, and neither did my grandfather."

"I think you could," Wretch said as he glanced at the captain.

"Perhaps," he said with a reminiscing smile. A door flung open, and the twins lumbered out like two walking dead. Together they had a light breakfast, and soon Astrid joined, wearing a large black dress with a matching umbrella. Elenya was last, barely having time to say goodbye to the twins before they left for school down the road. They gathered the last of the equipment, Elenya proudly showing a leather harness for the dagger Wretch had given her as a present.

It hung snugly under her armpit, out of view when she wore the vest. Edmund fastened his sword to his belt and brought his shield in the large suitcase. Wretch felt the Blinking Blade's weight on his hip and reluctantly fastened the black cross around his wrist.

"Why do you need an umbrella?" Elenya asked as they moved out of the door, shoving it closed as Whiskey meowed by the stairs.

"Ain't a cloud in the sky."

"I felt like having one today." Elenya gave her a questioning gaze, raised eyebrows, and open mouth.

"What are you blabbering about? Is that damn plant you're growing in the basement poisoning you?" The healer only shrugged her shoulders enigmatically. The sapling stolen from the mist had now grown into a thin tree, bellowing out thin mist that impeded vision when they practiced.

"It's a fascinating lifeform," Astrid said.

"It grows only in the worst of soil and shrivels when exposed to the sun. I feel like that is why it's producing mist. It's creating its own environment." Elenya rolled her eyes as the healer continued. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I'm close to a breakthrough. I can—""Bloody hell, don't say it again," Elenya interrupted. Wretch couldn't help but flash a halfhearted smile at the healer. No doubt she had taken his suggestion of emotions literally. They moved down the spires through the elevator, several plumes of smoke reaching upwards from the Lows below.

"Another attack," Edmund said with a shake of his head.

"The sooner we find these lunatics," Wretch answered softly, "the better." The air was cold, and the few smog-choked trees that existed in the Lows had leaves stark red and orange. Despite that, the weather was clear, and the suns warmed his skin.

"So what's the plan, Cap?" Elenya asked, adjusting the harness of her massive cleaver.

"Well, the instructions were to move around town for six hours each day, so let's hire a carriage for the day and look around."

"There is a market between Durin and the Greenthumb Spire," Astrid said.

"I think it opens at two."

"Alright," the captain answered with a nod.

"We'll start with a tour of the slums, the kid will choose the path, and then finish at the market." They soon got into a carriage, Edmund sparing a few minutes to haggle about the price as Elenya rolled her eyes. They drove through the inner gate and showed their badges. The cart rolled on the cobblestone as they sat in the tiny space. They passed a factory, or what used to be one. Now it was nothing more than a smoldering heap of ash and a metallic skeleton.

"Feels like a waste driving around when people are burning down the city," Wretch said.

"We have to do our part. I trust in the bureau and the powers above," Edmund said as the carriage vibrated over the old roads.

"And seven thousand pounds," Astrid replied.

"That too," Edmund answered with a chuckle and turned to Wretch.

"Where do you want to go, son?" Wretch was gazing out the window.

"I've never been to the Outer Wall." Elenya hit him on the shoulder.

"The new boss has spoken. Long may he reign!" They rolled through the slums at a lethargic pace, and finally, they came to a stop. The Outer Wall rose in a slope so high it cast several blocks in shadow. Garrisons and elevators littered its edge as far as the eye could see. It looked impenetrable, but he knew what its exterior looked like. Just another piece of hidden knowledge in a city that was strangling itself in a web spun of secrets.

There was nothing in particular to look at, and they wandered after Wretch's whims. The only park-like structure was a graveyard. Half of the grounds were clustered by leaning, unmarked graves under trees with leaves red and yellow. They waited for a while, weapons ready to be drawn, but nothing jumped out from the graves.

"Now what?" Elenya asked. Astrid scraped moss from a gravestone.

"Don't look at me."

"Let's continue along the wall," Wretch said with a shrug.

"There has to be some meaning behind all this." They made their way back to the rented carriage, taking a wide half circle around the city's outer perimeter, then rolled towards the city from the north. Astrid was reading a book while Elenya and Edmund were discussing how to best sharpen steel. Wretch looked out of the window as the streets flashed by, his back hunched and claws curled tight. The violence inside him pulsed, like a second beating heart. No, I'm in control now. I'm a Hunter. This is my city.

Outside, ramshackled houses blurred past. This close to the inner gate, at least the streets were clean. The first years of his life had been spent on streets like this. In fact, he recognized the stone pavement, the crooked lampposts, and the alleyways. He straightened slowly, his inhuman eyes growing wide. He had grown up on this street.

"Stop here," he whispered. The others looked up at him in shock. Edmund was first to move, pulling open the window to the driver, ordering him to stop. The vehicle slowed down, and the two horses stomped in front. Wretch opened the door, and the hunters poured out of the narrow exit.

"Tinderwick Lane," Astrid said, reading a rusty sign on one of the buildings. Wretch walked along the pavement, stopping to brush his hand against a leaning lamppost.

"What is this place?" Elenya asked, shielding her eyes from the suns hanging low in the sky.

"I grew up here," Wretch said without looking up.

"Before my father disappeared, before my mother sold me. I'd forgotten where it was."

"What are the odds?" Astrid said with a frown. Wretch's face didn't reveal any emotions. They walked in silence for a minute before he finally stopped in front of a house with a caved-in roof. The windows were broken, and a sign that looked to be as old as the house itself was placed to the side: For sale"That hag better not be around anymore," Elenya scoffed. Wretch turned to her. His expression was smooth, with slightly pressed-together lips, unnatural eyes staring into her without blinking.

She opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again. She hadn't known him for more than a full year, yet they had fought beside each other against horrors, he'd resurrected in her arms and both survived hardships thanks only to their own tenacity. Yet never had he made that expression. Her gaze broke, trailing down towards her feet.

"Sorry," she said. Astrid raised an eyebrow as Wretch walked forward. He came to the old door, hanging slightly ajar and made of several boards of tightly connected wood. It was frayed and splintered along the edges. Placing his hand, now clawed and monstrous, on the wood, he let it caress the surface. There was a nick on one of the panels from when he had bumped into it with a stolen chair far larger than he was back then. The doorknob was made of brass in the shape of a budding flower.

He knew how it felt to grasp it. Those memories were ingrained into him in a way that only childhood could. He placed the inhuman claws around the stained bronze, and with a squeak the tilting door opened. With careful steps, he disappeared inside. Astrid patted Elenya on the shoulder.

"Well done, Elly," she said as the larger woman grimaced.

"I mean it, look at him for Saint's sake," she said. Edmund gave them a look that, much like his scout, revealed nothing.

"I think you'd do best to wait here." He followed inside without looking back. Inside, Wretch had taken a left into a narrow corridor, the end of which was completely covered in debris from the ceiling. The midday sun was streaking through the ruined roof, leaving speckles of yellow light on the dust-covered floor. Wretch took a right, stepping over a door that had fallen off its hinges. Inside was a tiny room, with only the bare minimum of furniture.

An overturned table, a metal-framed bed without a mattress, and shards of a broken mirror littering the ground. A myriad of his own warped reflections gazed back at him. Wretch grabbed the table and pulled it back up as the wood groaned. It leaned slightly, barely noticeable, but he knew that if you placed an egg on it, it would roll to one side, and if it fell to the floor, you would be in a lot of hurt. He drew his fingertips along its surface and walked to the bed frame.

He crouched down to inspect the underside. The space was small. As it was now, he would barely fit. The wallpaper under the bed was damaged, he noted. He trailed his gaze over the room. He could see him here, his father. Always so strangely unclear in his recollection, as if that particular memory was looked at through soot-stained glass. He stood up as Edmund walked up beside him, his voice as calm and clear as ever.

"I could contact the owner, get a record to track the previous residents, if you'd like." Wretch shook his head.

"After this mission. But I can sense it, t he woman, father and child that lived here... a re all dead and gone," he continued with a voice that was thicker than usual.

"Do you want to leave?" Edmund asked, and this time Wretch nodded. Edmund turned around to move but suddenly paused, his eyes trailing to the cuff of his coat. Two of Wretch's fingers pinched the rough black fabric while the young man stood emotionless. Edmund turned around and removed his hat, letting it fall to the floor as he got on one knee in front of his scout. Even then he was barely shorter than the youngling. He grabbed both of Wretch's shoulders with his hands and pulled him into an embrace.

Wretch stood rigid, arms hanging limp by his sides. A tiny tremble came from the core of his body, and slowly it grew into a shiver. His clawed hands grabbed around the Captain's back and the claws dug into his coat, a coat marked by many beasts before him. A while later, two figures exited the door. Wretch had his hat pressed down low.

"Was there anyone there?" Elenya asked. Edmund replied calmly.

"Of the people who lived here, only a hunter remains." Elenya looked puzzled and was about to speak as Astrid hit her on the arm. The two women looked at each other and Astrid shook her head. They walked back to the carriage as a group, and soon it sped down the road towards the Spires and the Inner Gate. The suns kept shining on the caved-in house, the door now closed. The hallway untouched for a decade. In one of the rooms, under a lonely bed frame, a nail had scratched markings on the wallpaper in ages past.

The squiggly outline of two adults and a child walking hand in hand.