Gifted

Halkur marched between the tall, white pillars of the central atrium of the Shining Light Guild Chapterhouse in Ajinport. Their Guild was without equal on the Northern continent, a pillar of power, wealth, and vision. They possessed Chapterhouses every bit as impressive as this one in every major city; from Helenica to Ajinport, to Essenar in the far west, Varingia in the distant north, and Karinport to the south and east. They had even managed to get a foothold on the southern continent, a new Chapterhouse had been built among the sandstone spires of the northernmost city of El Basaad.

The Shining Light Guild’s growth was tied to their usefulness. Only they, with their Radiance affinity, could find those who had pacted with demons and remove them before they became a threat to everyone.

So, then why did Halkur feel like the Guild had taken a turn for the worse over the last few years? Certainly the number of demonic cults springing up across Ajinar had been increasing, but that wasn’t really a surprise. Desperate people were always the most easily seduced by promises of survival. It wasn’t even power many of the cultists sought, but merely a way to make it through the troubling times they were living in — and the times were troubling. Between the raids from the orcs of the Ravi Plains all along the eastern border of Ajinar and the conscription of the Ajinari populace, desperation was rife amongst the eastern lands of Ajinar.

But that wasn’t why Halkur had been called. He knew that much. Something else was afoot, and he hated being kept in the dark.

Reaching the end of the atrium, Halkur turned down a hallway, climbed two flights of stairs, made a few more turns, and then arrived outside the Preceptor’s office. Two Templars stood guard outside the door, their yellow-sunburst-on-white tabards looking like they had never once seen a speck of dust let alone the mud of the road, and their armour was polished to a mirror shine.

Halkur couldn’t see their faces beneath their helmets and didn’t bother saying anything. He didn’t need to. He watched as one of the two guards knocked on the door. A voice rang out from inside, clear and concise.

“Send him in.”

The guard pushed the door further open, and Halkur walked into the Preceptor’s office. The room was expansive, with book shelves covering one entire wall. The other two walls were made of tall glass windows that provided a view of the harbour and the Ajin lake. Plush furniture and a table that could’ve seated at least ten sat near the windows off to the side, a place for the Preceptor to entertain guests, which Halkur had no doubt the man did. After all, he commanded this Chapterhouse and so was as much a political creature as he was a mage who wielded the Holy affinity. The last piece of furniture was a huge desk behind which the Preceptor sat. Halkur recognised the wood, Horndale pine, no doubt shipped in from the mountains. The thought made him think of his old mentor from his time in Helenica.

The Preceptor was wearing his robes of office, a match for the tabards of the Templars outside with the silk a shining white hemmed in golden sunbursts that were meant to represent the affinities of the Guild members. Preceptor Jaegril was an older man in his early sixties. What little hair he had remaining on his head had gone to white and was combed over failing to hide his otherwise bald pate. Golden rings decorated his hands, each one enchanted, no doubt.

The Preceptor’s appearance was no surprise to Halkur, but the man sitting across from him with his back to Halkur was. Though he wore no armour, the sword and sunburst markings on the shoulder of his shirt were more than enough for Halkur to realise he was in the presence of a Paladin of the Shining Light.

If Templars were the footsoldiers of the Shining Light Guild, then the Paladins were the executioners. As far as Halkur knew, there were less than a dozen on the entire continent, which put their numbers similar to those of the Preceptors. And the Paladins answered only to the Justicar himself who led their Guild from Helenica.

“Take a seat, Halkur,” Preceptor Jaegril offered. “I can see from your reaction you can recognise the importance of our guest. This is Paladin Giorgos.”

Halkur took the offered seat, nodding deferentially to Giorgos. If the Paladin noticed, he didn’t show it. The man was a veritable mountain. Halkur guessed he must be two metres tall when standing with blond hair shaved short and eyes that bore a golden hue.

“I’m not going to bother wasting either of your time. Halkur, look at this map and tell me what you see.”

Halkur leaned forward towards the desk, eyes roving over the map of Ajinar laid out across its surface. There were notations across the map, words and dates, he realised. He was quick to notice that some of the notations were linked to locations where his team had removed small, demonic cults. The dates lined up with his own reports, and it quickly became clear that the other notations marked the same things for the two other main teams that were working out of Ajinar.

As he followed the dates, he realised there was a somewhat clear pattern — a path — that carved its way up from the Southern Horndale Pass towards Dinalby. The trail then continued further north to some of the few farming villages that tried their luck so close to the tainted lands south of the Deeping Gorge before carving east and south again along the villages that bordered the Ravi Plains. Finally, it seemed to loop around, following the Ajin river up to a village on the southern edge of the Ajin lake.

“A trail, Preceptor. There is a clear sequence for each of the cults we have uncovered over the last year or so.”

“Precisely. The Justicar and I both believe this is not a coincidence. Either we have a powerful cultist spreading their dark faith to the desperate and needy, or there is a demon-possessed walking the lands of Ajinar.”

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Halkur leaned back into his chair in worry, only now realising why Paladin Giorgos had come to Ajinport. The Radiance affinity had spells that could reveal pacts with demons, and some other creatures of the dark beyond. But it could not reveal a possession. That same limit was not applied to the tier three evolution of Radiance — the Holy affinity — and every Paladin was in possession of that affinity, a requirement to achieve that rank within the Guild.

Halkur knew what was coming before the Preceptor had opened his mouth.

“Your squad will be assigned to Paladin Giorgos, to hunt down and find this practitioner of the dark. Do not fail in your duty, Templar.”

Halkur didn’t need for the Preceptor to say ‘or else.’ He heard it clearly enough in the tone.

“As you command, Preceptor.”

Paladin Giorgos stood, a nod to the Preceptor the only acknowledgement before he looked at Halkur.

In a deep but clear voice the Paladin made his demands known. “Assemble your team and be prepared for a long ride. We leave at first light.”

Paladin Giorgos turned and left the room. Halkur glanced back at the Preceptor, checking if he had permission to leave.

“Do your duty,” Preceptor Jaegril stated, turning away to face the bay, the dismissal clear, though he called out one final warning. “Paladin Giorgos is not the only Paladin the Justicar has sent to see this task done.”

As Halkur left the Preceptor’s office, he wondered whether this assignment was a gift or a curse. Surviving meant he may have earned enough merit to strive for the Holy affinity himself. But that was only if he survived, and those who served under Paladins tended to have an awfully short lifespan. After all, the executioners of the Shining Light Guild were only unleashed to deal with the most dire of threats.

***

Anander Trake sipped his wine, savouring the crisp flavour.

“Apple, hints of cinnamon, and was that a little citrus I detected? Oranges from Thessavar?”

The waiter’s smile couldn’t have been more fake, not that Anander cared. He was here for a show, and so long as the waiter’s acting was sufficient, then Anander would be satisfied that he got what he was paying for.

“Sir has an impeccable palate. The wine is from southern Thessavar, white grapes aged with orange rinds, apple slices, and sticks of cinnamon.”

“Perfect. Leave the bottle and bring another. I’m expecting a guest.”

Anander watched as the wine bottle was worked into the ice before him before the waiter bowed and left to fetch another. The waiter returned swiftly, adding a second bottle to the ice along with a small tray of cheeses, breads, and spiced dips that was set down next to the wine. A snack to tide Anander over till his guest arrived.

Staring out over the bay and its shining waters, Anander ran a hand through his straight, shoulder-length, black hair. He loved this body, and he had been in it long enough that it felt as much his own as his original form. Over five years spent in the physical realm, possessing the form of a young man who had given himself over to darkness for the promise of a powerful body. The fool should’ve read the fine print. Well, this body was now powerful. Though not nearly as strong as Anander needed it to be.

His brown eyes traced the curve of the lake back towards the last village he had visited. The desperate farmers and craftsman, so angry at their lords and willing to do almost anything to get out from under their boots. The sacrifices they offered had been merely the dissenters among those whom Anander initially promised power. Along with a few afterwards who had discovered the deed. By then, the Shining Light had been called in, but Anander was always long gone before that happened.

Still, he’d been busy in Ajinar for long enough to know that his time here was coming to an end. Staying any longer risked becoming predictable. No doubt the Shining Light Guild would commit Paladins to finding the source of the cults soon, if they hadn’t already. Anander knew when it was time for a change of scenery, and so he would sail south and then west for Meravia with the morning tide. But before he left, there was one final task to take care of.

That task finally made herself known fifteen minutes later. Kalista strode up to his table, every eye in the room following the woman’s curves, her perfect figure framed by a dark green dress and a corset that hinted at what lay beneath. Like Anander, her hair was dark as night and perfectly coiffed, with emeralds glittering in her ears to match her eyes. He appreciated that she had used their Skill to reshape their host to make herself more appealing. So many of the little demonlings instead opted for claws or other such nasty things. He found such use of their innate gifts to be so very droll.

“Miss Archer, I am so glad you could make time for me,” Anander said in greeting, playing into the ruse as he pulled out a chair for the head of the Beast Hunters Guild.

Kalista simply flicked her fingers at the nearby staff who drew curtains around their booth to give them some privacy. Once they were hidden from prying eyes, Kalista placed a small, platinum box atop the table and dropped a sparkling aether coin into a slot in the side. The sounds of the restaurant, the foot traffic outside, and the water of the bay beyond all vanished.

“What do you want, Anander? This is too public. Have you finally lost your mind?” Kalista demanded.

“Oh, not at all. This was more of a courtesy, actually,” Anander replied with a charming and confident smile. “There is likely to be a Shining Light Paladin in the city soon, in case you need to crawl into a hole. Though feel free to die instead. I’ll be leaving for Meravia tomorrow.”

“Just like you to shit the bed then leave it for someone else to clean up,” she spat in response, any semblance of being a lady vanishing as her gaze turned vicious.

“That may be true,” Anander admitted. “But I am closer than any of you to our shared goal. As I said, this was merely a courtesy. Will you be staying for dinner?”

Kalista reclined into her chair, producing a fan which she waved in front of her face. Anander ignored her, enjoying a bite of bread and dip.

The quiet between them lingered with only the sound of Anander savouring his food breaking the silence. The wait might have been uncomfortable for some, but to Anander, it was almost as pleasurable as the food on his tongue.

“What are you seeking in Meravia?” she finally asked.

Anander smiled, basking in the perceived power imbalance between them.

“None of your business.”