Beyond Darkness Lies Redemption Part I

 

    A cool breeze swept through the blazing stone streets of Ebia. People crowded to purchase the wares of various travelling merchants, occasionally being split by a horse drawn carriage or soldier patrolling the streets. A calm rumble of voices filled the air, occasionally joined by the shouts of a soldier chasing after a shoplifter or a merchant trying to close of shop.

    “A large plate of spaghetti with cheese and garlic bread for a Nathan!” The powerful shout from the waiter ran clearly through all the commotion. Raising slowly from the table, Nathan sauntered over to the counter of a small Italian restaurant. Looking through the darkness of his hood, he grabbed the plate of spaghetti, rustled through his pocket and dropped a few coins in front of the waiter.

    “Keep the change,” he said as he took the plate back to his seat. Grabbing his fork, he began poking at the noodles, occasionally twirling a few around the prongs. From the crowd came a shrill shriek. Nathan looked over from where he heard the shriek come from. Three men were backing a girl up against a wall. She had long curly hair, wore a plain red dress and was carrying a basket of various assorted goods.

    “Why don't you give us that basket you're carrying?” the man in the center demanded, waving a knife close to the girls face. She looked left and right, trying to find a way to escape, eventually dodging under the guy on the left's arm and into an alleyway behind them.

    “After her boys,” the man with the knife said, laughing devilishly before following his two friends into the alleyway. Nathan narrowed his eyes. Not a single person bothering to help her out of the entire crowd, not even the guards. How shameful, he thought. Laying down his fork, he raised slowly from his seat. Jumping the fence that the tables were located, he pushed his way through the crowd. Several people cursed at him for getting in their way, but he ignored them, focusing on the alleyway instead. Escaping into the alleyway, he was able to raise his pace to a sprint. The alley turned several times before being cut off by a large wooden gate.

    “Steal everything she has on her, we're bringing in a good haul today,” the leader chuckled. Slowing down, his footsteps sounded through the alleyway, drowned out by the distant sound of the crowds. The leader turned first, and then the two men raiding the girl.

    "What are you lookin' at boy?” he spat. His voice was grating, making every word sound slightly unintelligible.

    “Let the girl have her things and leave her be,” Nathan said, a sense of enforcement coating his voice.

    “Who do you think you are?” he said cockily, turning the knife on Nathan.

    “I wouldn't suggest pointing that at me,” he said, staring down at the knife.

    “Don't tell me what to do,” the leader said, slashing open Nathan's sweater with a short, swift slice of the knife. A thin trail of crimson blood began flowing from the cut. He smirked. Looking him straight in the eyes, Nathan reached out towards the man, grabbing his bicep tightly.

    “Huh?” the leader said before crumpling to the ground. A grainy white powder poured from his mouth, nose and ears, his forehead flattening as more spewed out. The two men wheeled around, their eyes widening and jaws falling open slightly.

    “L-Lewis...” the one on the left stammered, staring at his dead companion.

    “Y-you bastard!” the one on the right shouted at Nathan. Grabbing a large knife from his belt, he ran forward, raising the knife over his head. Reaching Nathan, he his arm down, attempting to catch him near the neck. Nathan casually dodged to the left, the knife barely cutting into his sweater. Raising his hand, he brought it up against the mans neck. Turning him against one of the building, he slammed the man against the bricks. He let out a surprised grunt, before letting out an ear piercing cry of agony. The scream lasted a few moments before a spray of blood splattered against the bricks behind him, staining them red. The third man and the girl stared at him horrified. Taking out his knife, he tossed it to the side with a clang before stumbling past Nathan. Tapping the man on the back, Nathan turned to look at the last thief as he stumbled a couple more steps forward, falling to his knees as his throat collapsed inwards. He let out a strangled shout before falling to the ground.

    Nathan turned back to look at the girl. She awkwardly grabbed the items from her basket before standing straight up. She kept full eye contact with Nathan as she passed him, running through the alleyways and stumbling over the bodies of the two men. He stared as she ran away. After a few moments his eyes began defocusing. Snapping back to reality, he stared in horror at the scene that displayed itself in front of him. His eyes turning glassy as he took in what he had done, he turned and traced his way back through the alley.

 

Short Time Passed

 

    The fork clinked quietly as it hit the bottom of the plate. Staring at the half eaten spaghetti meal in front of him, Nathan rested the fork on the plate and leaned back. Zoning out, he began thinking about what he had done. I lost my focus again, he thought angrily. If I keep this up I could hurt somebody I don't mean to, and over what, a c-. His thought was cut off by a hello from behind him. Shaking his head, he turned around to see the girl from earlier.

    “Hi,” she said again.

    “Hey...” Nathan replied, his voice trailing off. He spoke softly and uncertainly.

    “I don't know if you remember me. I was that girl from earlier in the alleyway.”

    “I do.”

    “Alright. Well, I just wanted to give you my thanks. No matter how... crazy what you did there was, you saved me. Is there any way I could repay you?”

    “Got any marshmallows?”

    “No.”

    “Mmm... sugar sticks?”

    “No... why?”

    “Sweet tooth. Why don't you sit down.” He motioned towards the seat across from him offering it to her. She blushed slightly, but accepted the offer. She sat down and began to speak, but was cut off.

    “Wait here,” Nathan said, pointing at the table. He walked over to the counter and began talking with the waiter. A few moments later, he came back with two glasses of water. He set one of the glasses down in front of the girl and sat down at his chair, taking a long sip from his glass.

    “Oh! Uh... thanks,” the girl stammered, unsure of what to say.

    “Yeah. I didn't know what you like to drink, so I just got some water.” Her face grew a deeper red and the bridge of her nose began burning.

    “Why don't you introduce yourself?” Nathan asked, setting his cup down.

    “Oh... My name's Catherine. Catherine Aremial. I'm here helping an acquaintance in the market. You?”

    “Nathaniel, but I usually just go by Nathan.”

    “Oh. That's a cool name.”

    “Yeah. My dad came up with it.” There was a brief moment of silence.

    “I'm confused,” Catherine began, breaking the silence, “There's tons of shoplifting’s happening around the area. Why did you choose to save me?” Nathaniel looked up from his drink.

    “I dunno... you're cute I guess,” he shrugged. Her face grew bright red and her cheeks burned heavily, but she raised her hands to cover it, trying to make it seem like she was itching her nose. Nathan chuckled quietly.

    “I'm not blind you know. I can see you blushing,” he said.

    “W-well, I've just never met a stranger as friendly as you before,” she replied, lowering her hands from her cheeks.

    “So we're not friends yet?” he asked. Catherine stared at him, shook by the question. Shaking her head, she replied;

    “Oh! Uh... d-do you think we're friends?”

    “Well, I was never good at making friends really, so I wouldn't really know.”

    “Mmm... the thing is, I'm not really from around these parts. I was just in town with the market. It's be hard to be friends with someone who lives so-”

    “I'm not from around here either,” Nathaniel interrupted.

    “Where are you from then?” Catherine asked.

    “Wow... um. I've been to a lot of places, even as a child. My mother was married to a travelling guard who would be sent from town to town where guards would be needed, so I never really remember the places I've lived.” He scratched the back of his head, deep in thought. A few moments later, he refocused.

    “And where do you come from?” he asked her.

    “I live with my parents in Ursova. You might have heard of it. Birthplace of the hero Raulin Dinet who slayed of the dragon Amagawa.”

    “Yeah, the name is familiar. I might have passed through before.”

    “Mhm. My parents are both police officers, so I was brought up supporting the fight against evil and criminality.” Nathan didn't reply. Grabbing his fork, he began poking at the cold half of his spaghetti he had left uneaten.

    “Why do you always keep your hood up?” Catherine asked. Snapping his head up, Nathan looked up at her, confused.

    “What?” he asked.

    “Your hood. Why do you always keep it up. Isn't it like, thirty degrees out or something. I couldn't imagine wearing a sweater in such hot weather.”

    “I just prefer to keep my hood up. The shade is nice,” he mumbled.

    “Well if you want any hope of us becoming friends, I should at least get to see what you look like.” Leaning over the table, she grabbed the sides of the hood and pushed them back. His nearly black hair fell over his eyes. Catherine let out a loud gasp. A few people looked over at the pair. From the back of the restaurant he heard someone shout; “That's Nathaniel Gascoigne.” As the words rang through the air, the surrounding crowd looked over, silence overtaking them. Eventually, most of the people on the street had hushed their conversations to see what everyone was looking at. Only a few choice whispers rustled through the crowd. A few moments later, two guards had pushed their way to the front of the crowd.

    “It is him,” one of the guards said. The other guard reached out over the fence and grabbed Nathaniel's shoulder, but pulled his hand away quickly, shaking it quickly as if he had burned. The gauntlet he had been wearing was melted and deformed. Raising from his chair, Nathan stepped from the table and ran out of the restaurant, the steel chair he had been sitting in also deformed. Turning through the exit, he began pushing his way through the crowd, several people jumping away from him as he brushed past. His body must be blazing, Catherine thought as she watched him escape the crowd easily. The guards muttered a few words to each other, and one of them turned and chased Nathan through the crowd. Jumping up from her seat, she grabbed the other guard's arm as he turned to begin chase. The guard looked back and stared Catherine in the eyes. He swatted at her hand, but she just held tighter.

    “Wait! I know he may be wanted for murder and theft and other things, but he saved me from a group of bandits! I've grown up around criminals, and I know that if he truly was committing evil acts before, he's trying to redeem himself now, by helping people!” she exclaimed.

    “Don't act like you know better than I do! Murder is murder, regardless of what reason it's for!” the guard shouted back. Pulling his arm away, he escaped from the grip and began running through the crowd, which separated to allow him passage. Past the sea of heads, Catherine could see merchant fly backwards, his goods sprawling across the grown, and then Nathaniel riding a horse in the opposite direction. The crowd began pushing apart to avoid being trampled. Close behind him was the guard who had burned his hand and close behind him was the other guard.

    Staring through the crowd, she watched as Nathaniel rode out of sight. Turning around, she ran through the fence-gate and began pushing her way through the path that Nathan had previously made. Eventually she made her way to where her stand was. Jumping on a large white and grey horse, she called to her acquaintance;

    “I need to borrow Snow Dancer!”

    “Where are you going?” her acquaintance called back.

    “Don't worry about it, I know what I'm doing!” Pulling the reins, she turned Snow Dancer towards the direction that Nathaniel and the guards had gone and snapped the reins. The horse galloped through the crowd, people making way to avoid being trampled. After she escaped the thick of the crowd, she snapped the reins again and Snow Dancer sped to a sprint. She could see Nathaniel and the guards round a corner in the street. She followed the direction that they had gone. Reaching another long straight street, she looked down at Snow Dancer.

    Leaning over, she whispered in the horse's ear;“We're not going to catch up at this speed. I need you to give this your all, for justice.” Raising up, she snapped the reins once more and Snow Dancer began running even faster. Catherine could see that she was gaining ground on them.

    “Good job Snow Dancer! Just a little longer!” she exclaimed, her voice being drowned out by the rushing winds. Rounding another corner, she saw that Nathaniel had been cut off by two guards who had come from the opposite direction. Pulling back on the reins, Snow Dancer slowed to a stop, allowing her to make out what the guards were saying.

    “Nathaniel Gascoigne, you are under arrest for charges of murder, theft, resisting arrest and other crimes against the government, and are sentenced for execution as soon as possible.”

2: Beyond Darkness Lies Redemption Part II

Beyond Darkness Lies Redemption Part II

 

    The words hung in the air. Cold. Empty. Without remorse. Dropping from Snow Dancer, Catherine ran between the horses towards Nathaniel. When she reached him, she wheeled around, holding her arms out and staring the leader straight in the eyes.

    “What are you doing?” Nathaniel scowled in her ear.

    “This is unjust. I'm doing what's right,” she replied, looking back at him.

    “You don't have to get yourself roped into my problems.”

    “I don't care. Now shut up and work with me.” Turning back to the guard, she began speaking;

    “You can't execute this man.”

    “And why not?” the guard replied, narrowing his eyes.

    “My parents are both guards, and I've seen people who've done even worse crimes then him get off the death penalty.”

    “Yeah, so what do you propose Ms Know-it-all?”

    “The Bounty Hunter program.” The guards eyes widened.

    “But that's only for criminals who try to redeem themselves, not scum like him,” he said.

    “He's not scum. He is trying to redeem himself. Why else would he have saved me from those bandits. He could have easily abused the fact that he saved me, but he even let me go with all my stuff.” The guard stared at her for a few moments, and then narrowed his eyes again.

    “Listen girl. You can be arrested simply for interfering with governmental business under charges of treason,” he scowled.

    “You don't think I know that?”

    “I'll give you one last chance!”

    “I'll take the same punishment as him!” Nathaniel stared at Catherine.

    “B-but you're going to be killed!” he whispered in her ear. “It might be okay for me, but you're completely innocent.”

    “You're not being executed for this, and neither am I. Trust me,” she whispered back. The leader crossed his arms.

    “If you're done with your flirting or whatever, do you have any last words?” the guard said. Catherine felt hear cheeks heat up. Nathaniel stepped out from behind Catherine and looked back at her.

    “Thank you,” he said, turning around and holding his arms behind his back, letting out a soft huff.

    “Cuff them.”

 

Time Passed

 

    The last place I expected to be in today was in front of a legal officer, hoping to avoid the death penalty. The thought had crossed Catherine's mind more than once that day. The officer sat across from them, staring down at some papers the guard leader had put together. Her and Nathaniel were still handcuffed, but their hands were in their laps instead of behind their backs. The guard looked up at them. He pointed to Catherine.

    “So you're Catherine Bell Aremial, right?” he asked. His voice was slow and smooth. She nodded, keeping her eyes on him. He turned and pointed at Nathaniel.

    “And you're Nathaniel Katherine Gascoigne?” Nathaniel nodded. The office let out a low chuckle.

    “Well I'll be damned. Such a young man to be causing so much trouble.”

    “You judging me by my age?”

    “What're you doing? You're not helping,” Catherine scowled in his ear. The guard laughed again.

    “Well, he's right. You should never judge a person by their age.” Quickly, Nathaniel turned and stuck his tongue out at Catherine. She quickly retorted by smacking him in the stomach. He let out a dry gasp and began breathing heavily, trying to return his breath.

    “Alright, alright. Enough playing around,” the officer said, “Looking through your profiles, you're both over the age of sixteen, so you both can be living on your own. It also means you can enter a legal contract without parental consent, meaning we can put you under the Bounty Hunter Program that your friend was talking about.

    “These papers in my hands are the contracts that you need to sign to use the Bounty Hunter Program to take money off your charges. A room will be provided for both of you, separate of course, but food, clothes and tools will be up to you to afford. Of course, since these are bounty hunter missions, you will get the cash reward. We have designated a guide for you so that you can get familiarized with the camp.

    “Now, Catherine, I wish to let you know, if you don't sign these papers then you don't have to take the same punishment as the man beside you. Obviously it's your choice, but I've never heard of someone who unnecessarily entered a legal contract like this.” He slid the papers in front of them. Catherine stared the guard straight in the eyes, then grabbed the pen in front of them and signed her name at the bottom of the page. Nathaniel took the pen from Catherine and signed his name at the bottom of his paper.

    “Well, you must care for him quite a lot to be doing something like this,” the guard chuckled, collecting the papers. Catherine's face turned beet red. Standing up, he slid the papers into a file behind him. He turned around and looked at the two of them.

    “Alright then. We have an escort coming to get you soon. It takes about two hours to get to the camp your staying at, meaning you should be there at around seven o'clock. The tour usually takes about a half hour, and then you can rest up, eat some food or whatever else you do. The next day, you can get started with hunting. When you finally finish clearing your charges, I'll see you again. But until then, I wish you good luck.”

 

Time passed

 

    The ride took the two of them deep into the Espeos forest, a thick wooded area predominately populated by oak trees. They rode in a wooden stagecoach pulled by two brown Clydesdale horses. The ride was bumpy and leaves and twigs smacked the sides of the carriage, leaving marks on the windows and wood but it was also quite peaceful nonetheless.

    “I miss my dress,” Catherine complained. She had been forced to switch it out for a pair of jeans, because it was apparently a hazard for a bounty hunter to wear a dress.

    “Yeah, well I wish I had my sweater. Everyone's gonna be staring at me,” Nathaniel replied. He had to remove his sweater to avoid issues with identity. They sat beside each other, and their guide was sitting across from them, staring down at a stack of papers. Catherine turned to look at Nathaniel. He was leaning over on his elbow, staring out the window of the stagecoach, unflinching as the branches whipped the walls. Wow. He doesn't really look bad for someone who doesn't seem to finish anything he eats or drinks. He's even tanned, she thought. A couple seconds later, she shook her head. What am I thinking. She quickly pushed away the thought. A half hour later, the forest path opened up into a massive clearing. Lots of people walked around the clearing, a few conversing with each other in groups. It appeared there were cabins on the opposite side of the clearing, coupled with a massive central buildings built of steel and wood. In the center of town was a water pump, with a lineup of people waiting to use it. A long message board was posted beside the central building with a massive collection of wanted posters on it. The guide stepped off the stagecoach, followed by Nathaniel and then Catherine.

    “So, as you already know, I'm your guide for your tour of the Bounty Hunter Program and the camp it's located at. My name is Amirielle. We'll start with the central building and wanted board, then move on to the other locations around camp.” Amirielle said, turning back to look at the two of them. As they crossed the clearing, several people stared in their direction, most of them shocked when they saw Nathaniel's face. Unlike the streets in Ebia, the noise in the clearing didn't die down. When they reached the wanted board, Nathaniel could easily locate a poster of his face with a twenty thousand dollar reward over his head. Amiriella grabbed the poster and pulled down, tearing the entire thing off in one try. She crumpled it into a small ball and stuffed it into her pocket.

    “So, this is the wanted board. This is the where you will go to decide on a bounty to go after. Most posters have a photo of the criminal, a reward, details of their last known location, assumed home base and whether they want them dead, alive or either. The board is updated every day with new bounties, but you'll want to get up early to snag the high paying ones,” she explained. The board was a little taller than Nathaniel, and a group of people were crowding it, scanning all the posters on the wall. Walking over to the central building, she continued explaining,

    “This is the central building. This is where you bring any criminals you catch or kill, receive payments, purchase weapons and other tools and to find partners who might want to help you in a hunting mission.” Through the open door, Nathaniel could see a tall muscular man talking to a few younger kids around his size. A man was lying on the ground unmoving. He looked a little closer, and could make out an arrow sticking out of the neck of a man. Shaking his head, he looked back at Amirielle.

    “And that,” she continued, “segways nicely into a tip I usually give to newbies. Make friends. There will be some missions that require more than just one person. It seems like you have at least one friend to work with from the get-go, but even two could be too little for some of them.” Catherine payed attention as the guide explained how everything worked. As they walked over to the cabins, Catherine looked over at Nathaniel. He was looking straight up, twirling his hair around his finger.

    “Hey. You're getting all fidgety,” she said. He looked down at her.

    “Well it's a lot of listening. I don't really like listening. Plus, everyone's staring at me,” he replied.

    “Well you were one of the biggest criminals in the world, and for a while your face was on that board with a twenty thousand dollar bounty.”

    “I still am one of the biggest.”

    “Shut up, you're not.”

    “I will be until all my charges are cleared up.” Catherine sighed.

    “You're impossible, you know. Forget what I said, I think she's letting us know where we're staying.” They both looked back at Amirielle.

    “Alright then,” she began, “These are the cabins that people stay in. As you see, they aren't very large. They mainly provide a location for sleep and storage, and not much else. Sleeping hours are from ten to six, so we don't want to hear noise from you during those times. There's also a rule against having anybody from the opposite gender over during sleeping hours. You're room forty three, and she's room forty four. These are the keys to your cabins.” She tossed two shiny keys towards Natheniel and Catherine. The keys had tags tied to them that had their room numbers. After stuffing the keys in their pockets, they followed Amirielle over to another large building.

    “This is the cafeteria and lounge. They're technically two separate parts, but most people just eat in the lounge. Food will be available during sleeping hours, switching what they serve according to the time of day. After ten, the cafeteria closes, but the lounge stays open in case a group needs to call a meeting for something like a night raid. Occasionally events or parties are held in the lounge for things such as competitions or taking out a large scale criminal,” she said. Walking past the building they reached what looked to be a smaller version of the market back in Ebia.

    “And lastly, we have the marketplace. Here you can spend money you receive from your endeavours on clothing, entertainment and other unessentials, and there's also a small bank to store money you don't need on your person. There is a sanity limit for how much you can purchase, but usually most people aren't rich enough to afford that much, so it's usually not a problem,” Amirielle explained. Finally, they rounded back to the entrance.

    “So,” Amirielle said, “This concludes the tour of the camp. There should be bags in your rooms containing enough supplies to get you going. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask, I'm usually up in the central building or guiding other newbies around the camp.”

    “Thanks for the tour!” Catherine replied. She looked up at Nathaniel, who was staring off into space. She gave him a quick jab in the ribs.

    “Oh! Y-yeah... thanks,” he said, shooting Catherine an evil look. Amirielle nodded and turned to walk back towards the central building. There was a moment of silence, and then Nathaniel turned to Catherine.

    “You hungry?” he asked.

    “Yeah, but we don't have any money,” she replied. Nathaniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown bag about the size of his hand that was tied loosely at the top.

    “I think this will be enough for the two of us.”

    “Where'd you get that?”

    “Snagged it from one of the hunter's bags.”

    “Hey! You can't do that. That's stealing and it's a crime. You're trying to redeem yourself from all the crimes you've committed, remember.”

    “Well, that was technically your idea. I never said I was trying to.” Catherine narrowed her eyes.

    “Fine, fine. I give,” he said, “I'll try this whole redemption thing. Maybe it'll be good for me. Let's just think of this bag as one last act before the finale.” As he finished, Catherine looked at him and stuck out her tongue. Rolling his eyes, he started walking towards the cafeteria, Catherine following close behind her.

3: Lessons Aren't Always Best Taught The Hard Way

Lessons Aren't Always Best Taught The Hard Way

 

    The cabins grew dark and the camp became silent as the sun began setting behind the forest canopy. The door to Nathaniel's cabin let out a low groan as he pushed it open. As he stepped into the room, he began studying the room in front of him. At the far wall was a low lying bed with a blanket set out over top of it. Beside the bed was a desk. The desk top was mainly empty, besides the bag that Amirielle had told him and Catherine about earlier that day. Pulling the chair out from the desk with a loud scratch across the floor, he sat down. Opening the bag, he was able to pull out a bag of coins similar to the one he had snagged earlier, an eight inch knife, a few buns, a small flier, a letter and a few other smaller objects. He grabbed the flier first and began reading the back.

 

    A Brief Introduction to Bounty Hunting

    â€‹The first thing you should ask yourself is, “What exactly is a bounty hunter?” A bounty hunter, to us, is a man or a woman who locates a wanted criminal, brings them in, dead or alive, and receives a cash payment in return. These cash payments can differ greatly depending on the difficulty of the task at hand. While out in the field, a bounty hunter has a few graces and a few rules to follow. A bounty hunter may:

    -Loot any bodies for pocket change, weapons, materials or other things that may be deemed useful for the mission (all money and materials stolen must be given to the leader, but weapons may be kept)

    -Loot criminal camps of anything listed above (any money or materials must be returned to the leader, but weapons may be kept. Any illegal materials that are found on your person will be confiscated and you'll be sent home under the punishment you were first given. You only get one warning in cases that the illegal materials are purposefully placed on your person in an attempt to get you in trouble)

    A bounty hunter may not:
    -Harm and/or kill anyone not mutually involved in the crimes committed by the man/woman you are currently hunting.

    -Steal and/or use any illegal items that they may find in their hunt

    -Torture a captured criminal. It's dead or alive, nothing in between.

    A bounty hunter also may not work with the enemy in any way, except in cases where they are attempting to deceive the enemy.

 

    “A brief introduction to bounty hunting, huh?” Nathaniel mumbled as he read the flier. It was card like in texture and feel. Turning it over, he read a message that was scribbled on the back.

 

Nathaniel,

You're charges amount to 250k. That's quite an impressive number

I pray I'll be alive to see the day you finish that off

Keep you and that cutie of yours alive, kay.

    ~R. Hawtrey, Legal Officer

 

    Nathaniel chuckled.

    “That damn officer. Who's side is he even on,” he said, flicking the card on to the ground. Rummaging a little further, he found the letter that had been attached to the outside of the bag. Ripping open the top, he pulled out a slightly wrinkled note. He began reading what was written.

 

Dear Nathaniel,

    My name's Lewis Sorrel. I'm the head of this camp. My job is to regulate the amount of bounty's a person of group of people take on at one time. I make it so that one person can't take several wanted posters at the same time and save them for later.

    I felt it necessary to address this situation myself. As you may have already heard, the charges you have racked up reaches a quarter million dollars. The highest amount we've had before was around fifty thousand dollars. So, with that said, I'm providing you with a raised limit as to how many bounties you can have on you. Unlike the normal two bounties that a person can have, I'm allowing you to have four bounties at once. The same goes for your friend, Catherine. A special tag has been placed in your bag. To use this privilege without questioning, you must keep this tag on you at all times. Hopefully this helps you out in your endeavors. I wish you the best with redeeming yourself.

    Yours truly,

        L. Sorrel, Head of Camp

 

    Placing the note on the table, Nathaniel began searching through the pile of stuff that he had received. Eventually he found a yellow tag with what looked to be four pieces of paper carved into it. Hooked to the tag was a pin, which he used to attach the tag to his shirt. Yawning, he began collecting the things that had been scattered around the room and shoving them into the bag. Standing up, he grabbed the back of his shirt and quickly pulled it over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Taking a quick look at himself in the mirror, he noticed the tattoo that was permanently inscribed below the right side of his collarbone. A vertical line that stopped just above the nipple, with two shorter horizontal lines on either end, an eye on top and a circle behind it. The eye stared back at him. Sighing, he climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his shoulder. The bed wasn't perfect, but it was comfortable enough. Closing his eyes, he slowly began drifting off into a deep sleep.

 

The Next Morning

 

    When Nathaniel woke up, he was met with a heavy pounding against the roof of his cabin. Using his arm as support, he slowly pushed himself up. Outside was dark and grey and rain was pouring down heavily. Yawning, he slid his feet over the side of the bed and sat up. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed a scrap piece of paper that had presumably been slid under his door. Picking it up, he read what was written on it.

    

    No hunting today. Nobody's feeling up for it. Come down to the lounge though, they're apparently having a duelling competition and maybe you'll meet some people. Hope you slept well.

    ~Catherine

 

    Shrugging his shoulders, he got up and stretched his arms out. Looking in the mirror, he shook his hair so it fell down similar to how he normally kept it. Leaning over, he grabbed his shirt and slid it on. Putting on the boots the camp had provided him with, he took one last look at the rain through the window before making a sprint towards the lounge.

    By the time he had made it into the foyer, his clothes were soaked and his hair was matted down, covering his ears and tickling his eyes. Slipping off his boots and throwing them where all the other boots, he continued into the lounge, water dripping from his body with every step. The room was large and had lots of chairs and tables set up, but most were pushed to the side, leaving a large space in the middle. The first person he noticed was Catherine, who was waving at him from the far left corner of the room. He waved back, and then a girl sitting next to her who looked a little older than her began whispering into her ear, and he could see from that distance that her cheeks were red. Looking away, he continued forward until three guys around his age stopped him. The one in the middle had long spiked hair and wore a belt that carried a sword and a rifle in it. The two at his sides looked identical, almost like a mirror image. They had pale red hair that was parted in the middle, sleeveless vests over short sleeve shirts and black, baggy pants. The only difference was that one of them had two pistols in his belt while the other had a sword and a dagger.

    “Well, well, well. If it isn't mister quarter-million himself. I've been looking forward to meeting you,” the blond one said, his voice loud and overconfident.

    “Wish I could say the same for you,” Nathaniel replied. The man's grin faltered for a moment, but quickly returned to full glow.

    “The name's Ralf Chetwode, and beside me are Baldwyn and Nicolas Funteyn,” Ralf said.

    “Hi,” the two of them said in unison.

    “Hi... my name's-,”

    “Nathaniel Gascoigne. We know,” Ralf cut him off, “We've never seen a higher charge than you. You're in for quite a long time here. I don't know if you've heard, but I used to be highest, with fifty thousand. People consider me the king of this camp.” Ralf smirked at him. Rolling his eyes, Nathaniel walked past him.

    “Narcissistic ass,” he muttered as he passed by. Chuckling, Ralf turned around and grabbed Nathaniel on the shoulder.

    “What did you just call me?” he said, grinding his teeth.

        “I called you a narcissistic ass, did I stutter?” Nathaniel replied.

    “Yeah, that's what I thought,” he said as he turned to the crowd.

    “Did you hear that. A narcissistic ass. Can you believe it,” he said.

    “You should beat the crap out of him!” a slurred voice called from the crowd.

    “Great idea random drunk! Why don't I teach this... scum, a lesson about how you never mess with the king.” A loud cheer from the crowd replied. He turned back to look at Nathaniel.

    “Right here, right now. Fists only, no shirts. I want to feel your skin rip when I hit you,” he growled.

    “Look. I don't know exactly what you're talking about, but I don't want to be part of your stupid tournament,” Nathaniel replied.

    “This isn't a tournament. This is you, and me.” Slowly the crowd began chanting. Fight! Fight! Fight! Sighing, Nathaniel rested his head in his hand for a moment, and then looked back up at Ralf.

    “Okay. Fine! I'll fight you if that's what it takes to shut everyone up!” he shouted, letting out a frustrated huff. Walking over to the empty area in the room, he tugged at the collar of his shirt, looking down at the marking on his shoulder. He grabbed the back of his collar and pulled off his shirt, letting out a tired sigh. A surprised murmur ran through the crowd, a group of girls near the back began giggling, when they saw him. Rolling his eyes, he let his shirt drop to the floor.

    From behind the sea of heads, Catherine could adequately see what was happening. Her mouth hung open slightly and her cheeks grew hot.

    “You're staring you know,” she heard from the corner of her mind. Shaking her head, she looked to her left to see her friend staring her straight in the face, smiling deviously.

    “W-what are you talking about Lucy. Ha ha... I wasn't staring... heh...” she replied.

    “Girl, you can't worm your way out of this one. I saw it plain as day. Your eyes were locked on his abs like you were in a staring contest to save your life.” Catherine's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Binging her knees up to her neck, she stuck her tongue out at Lucy, who snickered in return.

    Soon after, Ralf had taken off his belt and shirt, and he was standing facing Nathaniel.

    “Call it, drunk man!” he exclaimed, pointing towards the crowd.

    “Fight!” the man shouted in return, followed by a loud cheer. Nathaniel watched as Ralf inched closer to him, dancing back and forth. He threw a jab, but Nathaniel leaned to the side to avoid it. A few moments later, Ralf threw another jab, aimed towards his face, but he brought up his arm to take the blow. Shaking his arm, Nathaniel look down to check for a cut.

    “Oh buddy, I'm just getting warmed,” Ralf growled, staring him straight in the eye. Lunging forward, he began throwing punch after punch, forcing Nathaniel to act defensively. He leaned side to side, using his arms to block blow after blow. He continued this until his defence began faltering, allowing Ralf to hook him hard in the jaw. Stunned, he felt another hook to his left side, then two at his temple and a kick to his stomach, forcing him backwards. Winded, he used his arm to prevent himself from falling to the ground.

    “Nathaniel, look out!” he heard Catherine shout from the crowd. Looking up, he saw Ralf come towards him, winding up to give him a hard kick in the side. As he made contact, Nathaniel fell to his side, coughing up blood, the crowd gasping as he fell. He lay on the ground for a few seconds, his mind blank, but it was soon replaced with blackness. Narrowing his eyes, he raised up to one knee, using his arm to support himself. With a final push, he got up to his feet. There was a quick cheer from the crowd, and then it returned to a low murmuring. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he spat a mixture of saliva and blood on the ground beside him.

    “Heh... you think I'm going to let someone like you win against me that easily?” he said, staring Ralf straight in the eyes.

    “Hey look. The punching bag just doesn't know when to-.” Ralf's sentence was cut off by a strangled gasp for air. Looking away from the crowd, he saw Nathaniel only inches from him, his fist planted firmly in his gut. Grinning wildly, he clubbed Ralf in the temple with his left arm. His eyes widened in horror as he watched Nathaniel toss him up in the air like a giant stuffed animal. Spinning around, he sent the sole of his foot straight into Ralf's chest, sending him flying across the room. As he skidded into the wall, it was clear that he was completely unconscious, streams of blood flowing from several parts of his body. Nathaniel stared at him for a moment before his fists released and his arms dropped to his sides. Staring in horror at the unmoving body of Ralf slumped on the other side of the room, he stepped backwards slowly before turning to run out the doorway and into the rain, leaving his shirt and boots behind.

    The crowd stared in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Gasping, Catherine brought her hands up over her mouth.

    “Are you uh... gonna do somethin' about that boy..?” she heard Lucy ask. Nodding, she jumped from her seat and began pushing her way through the crowd desperately. Reaching the foyer, she slipped her boots on and ran out into the rain, calling Nathaniel's name.

4: Secrets One is Better Off Not Knowing

Secrets One is Better Off Not Knowing

 

    â€‹“Nathaniel! Nathaniel, where are you?” The shout barely traveled through the pounding of the rain. The ground had been turned to mud, making it hard for Catherine to keep a fast pace. Thunder boomed in the distance as a flash of lightning lit up the sky. Turning into the neighbourhood of cabins, she saw the outline of Nathaniel sitting on the steps in front of his.

    “Nathaniel!” she exclaimed, running over to him. He looked over at her for a moment, then returned to stare at a puddle in front of him.

    “What happened back there?” she asked, slowing down as he reached him. Kneeling down, she tried to look him in the face, but he refused to make eye contact.

    “I lost c-control...” he muttered, spitting into the puddle.

    “Lost control of what?” Catherine breathed.

    “My p-p-power...” His teeth were chattering and his body was shaking.

    “Oh my goodness, you must be freezing! Why don't we go inside your cabin, and we can continue talking there.” she suggested, watching him as his body shook.

    “I d-don't the k-k-k-key on me. It must have f-fallen out of my p-pocket,” Nathaniel replied.

    “Then we can go into my cabin.”

    “I don't want t-to make a mess of the place.”

    “You wouldn't make a mess of the place!”

    “If you hadn't noticed, I'm dripping water and blood.” Looking down, she noticed that the puddle in front of Nathaniel had been dyed a dark red. Blood fell from his mouth and dripped off his chin into the puddle. Catherine gasped at the sight.

    “Shouldn't you get someone to look at that?” she exclaimed, pointing at the blood running down his jaw.

    “I've handled far worse on my own.” Catherine stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide with disbelief.

    “Okay. Well, wait right here. I'll be back in just a moment,” she said, standing up straight. Entering her cabin, Nathaniel could hear the faint sound of rustling. Soon after, she returned to where he was, holding a blanket similar to the one he had in his room.

    “Can I sit?” she asked, pointing next to him. Shrugging, Nathaniel shuffled over a little, allowing space for Catherine. She sat down next to him and began unraveling the blanket. After she unfolded it, she wrapped it around his shoulders, covering his neck and torso.

    “Don't you need this for sleep?” he asked, looking down at the blanket.

    “Sleeping in a blanket is less important than leaving an injured friend out in the cold and rain,” she replied. He looked over at her.

    “Thank you,” he said, smiling subtly. Turning back to look at the ground, the rain became the only noise as it spattered against the ground.

    “So, what do you mean by 'your power'?” Catherine asked, breaking the silence between them.

    “My power?” Nathaniel replied, looking over at Catherine.

    “Yeah, your power. You said you 'lost control of your power'.”

    “Oh. My hereditary omnipotence.”

    “Omnipotence. Like, gods and stuff.”

    “Yeah.” Catherine's eyes widened.

    “Wow! That's so cool!” she exclaimed, a grin plastering itself on her face.

    “No it's not,” Nathaniel replied. The smile on Catherine's face was immediately replaced with a frown.

    “Why do you say that?” she asked.

    “Well for one, I syphon the power from the god of death himself.”

    “W-where would you have acquired a way to do that?”

    “Well, like I said, it's hereditary omnipotence, meaning the power has been passed down through my family for several generations. I'm not sure how much you know about mythology, but the god of death had three servants. There's The Tailor, who used his needle to weave fear of death into the hearts of all sentient beings, The General, who would oversee the world and be sure that people were dying at a balanced rate, and The MM, or middle man, who would syphon the energy released by the dead or dying and pass it on to god of death to keep him alive.

    “According to my father, The MM was my oldest ancestor. Eventually, he turned against the god of death, and secretly began syphoning his power into his own body. He also disguised himself and lived in the real world. He fell in love and eventually had a child, and the child had the same powers that he did. The story in mythology ends there, so I can only assume that the powers he had kept getting past down the line, eventually reaching me.”

    “Wow. That sounds really cool.”

    “I guess you could put it that way.”

    “But wouldn't the god of death, you know, be mad that one of his servants had turned against him and syphoned his power for so long?”

    “According to several sources, the way the syphoning would work is that the power would be syphoned through a tattoo like the one on my collarbone.” He lowered the blanket to show the marking under his shoulder.

    “Okay,” Catherine replied.

    “So, if the body of the person who had the tattoo were alive, the power would be absorbed into the body. If the body of the person who had the tattoo were dead, it would pass on to the child of that person, so long as they have the tattoo as well, and then the dead body would scramble the location of where the power went, if that makes any sense,” Nathaniel replied.

    “Yeah, I guess. Basically what you're saying is that as long as The MM's tattoo and body remained, the power could be passed through each generation undetected.”

    “Yeah, that's a simpler way to put it. It also seems like the dead bodies that carried the tattoo would never decompose, otherwise the chain would break, and The MM's body couldn't be destroyed because that would disrupt the flow of power, and eventually the god of death would die.”

    “Okay, but if the power that's being received is being passed through each generation, then how would the god of death still be alive now? I mean, death still happens all around, so he must be alive.”

    “Well I don't have a definitive answer to that, but two theories that I have thought about were that there may have been multiple MMs, or the god of death created another MM in the original MM's place.”

    “So, what you're saying is, technically speaking since it's power from an omnipotent being, you have an unlimited amount of power.”

    “Yes. You'd be correct in saying that. Technically speaking, I could destroy the whole universe at the snap of a finger.” Catherine's eyes widened in horror as he raised his hand, beginning a snapping motion.

    “Relax,” Nathaniel reassured her, lowering his hand and chuckling. “The two factors stopping me are that it would take an immense amount of power, and I couldn't control that much power anyways. It may be power from an omnipotent being, but I'm not omnipotent myself. It couldn't literally be at the snap of a finger, but I'm sure you understand what I mean. And that returns to what I said earlier about losing control. When I clued in that I was going to lose the fight, I began syphoning lots of power, and eventually, I syphoned too much power to control and my mind went blank. I was basically an empty husk, controlled only by the will to survive. For example, if that Ralf guy had fought any harder, when I clubbed him in the temple, there would've been a possibility that I'd snap his neck.”

    “Wow. You were right. That doesn't sound as cool as I thought it was, but it does explain a few things, like why you have such a strange tattoo so young. I was curious about it when I first saw it,” Catherine replied.

    “Oh yeah. You mean back in the lounge, when you wouldn't stop looking at my chest.” Catherine's cheeks turned bright red.

    “You-you, uh... saw that?” she said, bringing her knees up to cover her face.

    “You think I wouldn't notice. You just sat there looking straight at me. I expected drool to start running from your mouth or something.” Catherine curled up, hiding her face behind her arms and legs.

    “Calm down,” Nathaniel said, looking at the pitiful attempt Catherine was making at hiding herself. “I can pretend it never happened if you want.” He started laughing, but it quickly turned into a hacking cough, droplets of blood staining the blanket.

    “Hey,” Catherine said, raising her head. “Maybe we should at least go see if they have a doctor or something to check you out. It would probably be better for your health and if you stay out here, you might catch a cold.” Nathaniel sighed.

    “Fine. I'll go do that. You obviously know a lot better than me on how to keep yourself in good condition.” Standing up, he and Catherine made their way to the central building. Upon entering, it was easy to spot Amiriella.

    “Hey Amiriella,” she said. Amiriella looked up from the book she was reading.

    “Is there a doctor or a nurse hear that could do a checkup or something on Nathaniel?”

    “Yeah,” Amiriella replied. “Just go to the end of the hall and turn to your right.”

    “Thanks,” Catherine said, leading Nathaniel down the hall. Turning the corner, they found themselves in a brightly lit room with a bed in one corner and a desk in the other. A young lady in a doctor's coat was leaning over the desk, looking through a stack of papers. The doctor turned around when she heard them step in the room.

    “Hi. My name is-... what the hell happened to him?” she said, staring at Nathaniel in disbelief.

    “It's a long story,” Nathaniel replied.

    “Is this gonna be a one time occurrence?” Nathaniel looked over at Catherine.

    “Probably not,” they replied in unison.

 

 

    Authors Note: Right away, just so you know, these won't show up very often at the ends of chapters, just when I have to mention some things. So, with that said, first off, I'd like to thank anyone who's read all four of the introduction chapters. I'm really glad that you liked the series enough to read through it, and it helps drive me to continue the series. I'd also like to give a shout out to anyone who's favourited my story. I believe there were two people who's names I can't remember. Secondly, I guess I was lying when I said this wasn't gonna be a daily thing. I guess it is. Who would've guessed (not me, I just got really into writing this). And lastly, I'm going away for two days to visit relatives tomorrow, so I'm gonna take a break from writing this (since I finished the introduction chapters) and then return on Saturday with another chapter (hopefully). So, in conclusion, another shout out to anyone who has/will read, favourite, follow or provide feedback for my story. I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

    Authors Note: I know this was short compared to the other chapters (they'd average about 2200 words while this one was only about 1500) It's been a long day and there wasn't much in this chapter anyways. I hope you enjoyed regardless.

5: Three's a Crowd, Four's Company, Eight For Insurance, Two's Not Enough

Three's a Crowd, Four's Company, Eight for Insurance, Two's Not Enough

 

    June 19th, 1654

    Three days after the capture of Nathaniel Gascoigne

 

    “Wow. That's a lot of criminals...”

    “No kidding...”

    Nathaniel and Catherine stood in front of the large wanted board, staring at the endless rows of posters.

    “It's almost unbelievable how they can find enough people to refill this board every day with posters.,” Nathaniel said, scanning the rewards over the tops of the pictures or sketches of each criminal. Catherine looked over at him, narrowing her eyes.

    “What's unbelievable is the fact that you thought it was a good idea to wake me up at four thirty in the morning.”

    “Well you heard what Amirielle said. You have to get up early to get the highest paying bounties.”

    “I don't think she meant this early.”

    “Well at least we'll get a high paying one.”

    â€‹“Whoopdy doo.”

    “Don't act so sarcastic. I'm sure this will benefit us.” Catherine rolled her eyes. Looking over the large board, Nathaniel eventually settled on a poster showing a man wearing an expensive looking outfit with gold rings and a cape, with a large reward of five thousand dollars.

    “Let's do this one,” he said, ripping it off the wall. Catherine grabbed the poster and read what was written.

    “This poster says this guy apparently runs a large gang that spans most of the Ursova underground, and that you should have a party of at least eight people,” she said.

    “Technically, I count as an infinite amount of people with my power.”

    “But you can't even control that power without running the risk of killing someone you don't mean to, and you get all depressed when it gets out of control too!” Catherine was growing further and further flustered by Nathaniel's oblivious behaviour.

    “I'm sure I can control it this time. The last times were just a warm up,” he boasted. Staring up at his stupid grin, she brought her hand forward and slapped him across the face.

    “Snap out of it! You know that you can't control your powers!” Rubbing the cheek Catherine had slapped him on, Nathaniel turned around, refusing to look at her.

    “God. Once you get to really know someone,” Catherine muttered.

    “I can say the same to you,” Nathaniel replied.

    “I thought you were ignoring me.”

    “Well, I was, and then I thought about it, and I realized that I guess you really are right.”

    “My god. You really are impossible.”

    “Yup.” Taking one last look at the wanted poster, he stared over where the sun was barely rising, and then to the south.

    “C'mon. Ursova's this way,” he said, walking south.

    “How do you know. We're kind of in the middle of nowhere.,” Catherine said.

    “I bought a map with some of the money we received.” He turned to look at her.

    “Wow.”

    “Don't be like that. I'm not as stupid as you think.”

    “Fine. I'll give you a few more chances, but I still think this is a really bad idea.”

    “Don't worry, we'll be fine. Now hurry up, or you're going to fall behind.”

 

Time Passed

 

    “That was stupid...” Nathaniel grumbled.

    “Well, it was also your idea,” Catherine replied. They trudged through the forest, twigs snapping and leaves crumbling as they continued forward. Catherine was checking herself a third time over for injuries.

    “I guess we just got unlucky,” Nathaniel said. Catherine turned and gave him an evil look.

    “Unlucky! Are you insane?” she shouted, stepping in front of him, “We nearly died back there! The only reason we're still alive is because you got slashed in the cheek with a knife and started going ballistic, catching bullets and throwing them back in random directions at anything that moves! That's not unlucky, and one day, your obliviousness to everything is going to actually get us killed!” The words left her mouth without her thinking, her emotions mangled by confusion. Nathaniel stared back at her, unsure of what to say.

    “O-oh. S-sorry. I didn't know it bothered you that much,” he murmured, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. He frowned.

    “H-hey. I'm sorry for snapping at you,” she said, her voice noticeably softer. “I'm just not used to all this bounty hunting and police business, it's making my mind a wreck. I used to just be an assistant street saleswoman and now I share the highest bounty in this entire camp,” Catherine said, staring at Nathaniel. Thoughts began racing through her head. She thought about how worried her parents must be, and how mad they'd be if they knew what happened to her. Tears formed in her eyes and her face scrunched up. Dropping to her knees, she wrapped her arms tightly around Nathaniel's waist, crying violently into his stomach.

    “I just don't know what I'm going to do!” she wailed, heaving deeply. “If I die, what will my parents do. If my parents find out what's happened to me, they'll disown me. I can't deal with those possibilities.” Nathaniel stared down at her, unsure of what to do. Grabbing her shoulders, he lifted her so she was standing on her feet. He looked her straight in the eyes.

    “Your parents aren't going to disown you. You're a bounty hunter after all, and what do bounty hunters do?” he said.

    “Capture criminals?” she replied.

    “Exactly. You aren't doing anything evil. You're bringing justice to the bad guys.” Catherine stared up at him, wiping away her tears and sniffling.

    “I g-guess you're right,” she stammered.

    “Good. How about once we get back to camp, I'll get my cut looked, we'll eat, and after we could try a less intense bounty. I mean, there shouldn't be any large bounties left anyways. It has to be almost noon.”

    “S-sure.” Catherine showed a small smile. “Thanks Nathaniel.”

    “Hey. What're friends for?”

 

Time Passed

 

    The message board was empty. A few posters were leftover, probably from the lack of people who could take them.

    “Do you think this one's reasonable?” Nathaniel asked, pointing at a wrinkled poster that had probably been caught in the drizzle a day earlier.

    “Let's see,” Catherine replied, studying the poster.

    “Aubrey Dalison; wanted for small-scale drug dealing, last seen in Paratria, reward is $200. Ugh. He's ugly,” she said. Grabbing the poster, Nathaniel looked at the drawing. The man in the picture had crooked buck teeth and heavy bags under his eyes. He had curly brown hair and a large bald spot on his forehead. Handing the poster back to Catherine, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his map.

    “I say we should do it,” Catherine said, looking over the poster one last time. Nathaniel didn't reply right away, but instead studied his map carefully. Finally, he lifted his head and folded the map.

    “Sounds good. Paratria is about an hours walk north-west from what I can assume. If we cut through the forest we'll eventually hit a road that leads directly to Paratria, assuming we go left on every fork in the road except the seventh or last one,” Nathaniel said.

    “Wow. You're pretty good with that map,” Catherine remarked. Nathaniel smiled at the compliment and then tucked the map into his pocket.

    “Shall we get going then?” Nathaniel asked.

    “Sure. Let's go!” Catherine replied.

 

Time Passed

 

    “Damn it...”

    “What is it this time?”

    “My feet hurt.”

    “Well at least it's not mosquitoes again.” Catherine and Nathaniel walked slowly along the edge of the dirt road, surrounded by plains of tall grass. Occasionally a man on a horse or a carriage would pass, and Catherine would wave while Nathaniel moped about having to walk.

    “I hate those bastards,” Nathaniel growled.

    “Well you're going to have to get used to them because we're going to be travelling a lot,” Catherine replied.

    “Maybe I could use my power to kill them all.”

    “Let's not get ahead of ourselves Just be thankful we're out of that forest.” Nathaniel stopped complaining once they came to a fork in the road. They halted and Catherine started counting on her fingers

    “Is this the seventh one?” Nathaniel asked. Catherine nodded and they continued walking forwards, taking the right path.

    “Y'know, for a small city, Paratria is pretty noticeable,” Catherine said, looking at the city that stood a few hundred meters ahead of them.

    “It's probably the castle. I bet they poured all their money into building that thing.”

    “Yeah. I have heard that Paratria is a mining town though, and occasionally they hit a big vein on precious ore, so maybe they struck it rich in gold of diamond. But I get what your saying. Surrounded by this plain land, Paratria stick out.” Nathaniel chuckled quietly. Giving him a confused stare, Catherine asked; “What's so funny?'

    “Plain. Land,” he said, motioning to the plains around them.

    “Oh ha ha. Apparently your sense of humour is as bland as your sense of style.”

    “Hey! I happen to like my outfits thank you very much.”

    “But it's so grey and dull and boring.” Nathaniel turned and stuck his tongue out at Catherine, who quickly returned the favour. As they reached the gates, a guard stepped in their way, blocking them from entering through the large gate at the front of the town.

    “Let me guess. Bounty hunters, right?” the guard said, his voice loud and powerful.

    “Uh... y-yeah. How'd you know?” Nathaniel stammered, looking up at the guard.

    “Well, besides the fact that the lady here has a massive knife strapped to her side, you're Nathaniel Gascoigne. News has gotten around that you were admitted to a bounty hunter camp.” Nathaniel looked over at Catherine, expecting some kind of explanation, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

    “Look,” the guard said, interrupting their silent conversation. “I have no problem with having bounty hunters in the town. It wouldn't be the first time, but, I don't want you causing trouble outside of your mission, alright.”

    “Yes sir,” Catherine said, staring the man in the eyes. Looking over at Nathaniel, she elbowed him in the side.

    “Oh. Uh... yes. Don't worry officer, we'll be in and out as quick as we can.”

    “Thanks,” the guard said, stepping aside to allow them access. Entering the city, they noticed that the other guard that had been standing at the gate was staring at them, looking very displeased.

    “I guess he doesn't like bounty hunters as much as the other guy,” Nathaniel whispered.

    “Shut up. If he hears we could get kicked out of this place, and that would mean two failed bounty missions in a row,” Catherine hissed in reply. Continuing forward, Nathaniel studied the city. The streets were dirt, and people walked from tent to tent, purchasing various goods. A few kids ran around, a dog chasing them and barking playfully.

    “I stand by my statement that the money this city makes is put primarily into the castle,” Nathaniel said quickly. Catherine sighed.

    “Alright. I'll stop making comments,” Nathaniel said. “What do you suppose we do first?”

    “Well, I guess we could ask around to see if anyone knows this guy,” Catherine replied. Nathaniel nodded, and they began going from house to house, asking if anyone knew an Aubrey Dalison. Eventually, they knocked on a door and a man who looked to be in his late forty’s with a short, messy beard and stained clothing opened the door. His house reeked of cigarettes and a large cigar hung from his mouth.

    “Yes, can I help you?” he said, sounding like he had just been asleep. After getting over the mans looks, Catherine replied.

    “Uh, yeah,” she said, putting on her innocent girl voice. “We were wondering if you knew anything about an Aubrey Dalison.” The man studied Nathaniel lazily, and then Catherine. When he looked at Catherine, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped, the cigar falling from his mouth.

    “I uh... um, can't help you. S-sorry,” he stammered, slamming the door in front of them. Looking at Catherine, he realized what had caused the mans odd reaction.

    “He must know we're after him. The knife probably gave away the fact that we're bounty hunters” Nathaniel said, leaning over the door handle and playing with it.

    “What are you doing?” Catherine asked, watching as Nathaniel twisted the handle.

    “This guy obviously knows something about him, so we're gonna get the information by force. Look out.” he said, backing away from the door. Catherine stepped out of the way as Nathaniel shuffled forward, bringing his foot up and kicking the door clean of it's hinges. Splintered wood showered the doorway.

    “Couldn't your foot have gotten stuck if you did that?” Catherine said, raising her hands to avoid being hit by wood chips.

    “The key is to kick near the hinges. It requires more force but it's more effective. Now come on,” he replied, entering the house. Catherine followed close behind. As they entered the house, their sense of smell was instantly overloaded with the thick scent of smoke. Nathaniel began coughing, trying to clear his throat. Several still burning cigars littered the floor. The sound of another door slamming and the click of a lock could be heard from up the stairs.

    “C'mon. He went up here,” Nathaniel said, pointing towards the stairs. Jumping up, he turned to the left and kicked open the door that stood at the end of the hallway. Inside the room was a bed and a bedside table with some lighters and half finished cigarette packs strewn across the floor, but otherwise it was empty.

    Turning around to head towards the doorway on the other side of the hall, he bumped into Catherine. Looking down at her, the knife caught his eye.

    “Lemme see your knife,” he said, looking back at her face. Nodding, she unhooked the sheath that held the knife, handing it to Nathaniel. Brushing her aside, he rushed to the other side of the hallway, kicking the door down. The room had a table in the middle had a strange black resin on top of it and a chair that had been kicked aside violently. The man was halfway through an open window, trying to escape. Grabbing the waist of his pants, Nathaniel pulled him out of the window, spun him around, slamming him against the wall next to the window and holding the knife against his neck. His eyes were wide with surprise at how strong Nathaniel was. Nathaniel stared down at him, rage burning in his eyes.

    “What are you not telling me about Aubrey Dalison?” he shouted.

    “N-nothing, I don't know anything!” the man exclaimed in reply. Nathaniel pushed the knife harder against the mans neck, a thin trail of blood making it's way across the blade.

    “I hate liars. Tell me what you know!” he growled.

    “Nathaniel, stop!” Catherine exclaimed from behind him, her eyes wide with concern for his violent behaviour.

    “Okay! Fine! He's a small time drug dealer, mainly dealing with cannabis. He lives a few doors down, a distraught house. You can't miss it.”

    “Thank you,” Nathaniel said, a false tang of content behind his voice. The man breathed a sigh of relief, but was soon interrupted when Nathaniel bashed the butt of the blade against his forehead. The man slumped to the ground heavily, completely unconscious. Turning around, he looked at Catherine, who was watching the scene with a horrified expression. Shrugging, he smirked and tossed the knife over to Catherine. She snapped her focus to the knife and began fumbling it, trying to get a grip on the handle. Eventually it fell to the ground with a clang and she bent over to pick it up. Looking back up, she gave him an evil stare.

    “Alright. Sorry. You heard the man. Up the street a couple houses. Let's go,” Nathaniel said. Sighing, Catherine nodded and followed him down the stairs. Rushing through the broken doorway, they weaved through the small crowd that had gathered around the house to see what was happening. Eventually they reached what appeared to be the distraught house the man was talking about. Most of the windows were broken and some of the wood was mossy and rotted.

    Kicking the entrance, the door flew of the hinges with ease. Entering the house, they searched quickly through the two rooms on the bottom floor before hearing a rustling coming from up the stairs. Turning around, they exited the kitchen area and flew up the stairs. The handle to a door off the side of the hallway jiggled and then clicked.

    “I think this is the room he's in,” Nathaniel whispered, leaning against the wall next to the door.

    “I'll go first. I do have the weapon after all,” Catherine replied, leaning on the other side.

    “Are you sure?” Nathaniel asked.

    “Don't be so concerned about me. Worry about yourself, I'll be fine. Now, open this door for me.” Nathaniel nodded. Gulping, he brought his leg up, kicking back against the door with the sole of his shoe. The door handle broke and the door flew open. Holding her knife in front of her, Catherine entered the doorway. Letting out a yelp, her knife fell from her hands and her head thudded hard against the floorboards. Entering the room after her to see what had happened, Nathaniel saw Catherine dangling from the ceiling by her ankle, her arms hanging lifelessly at her sides. The knife was sitting on the ground next to her. The man from the poster stood a couple feet away from her, pointing a gun at her head.

    “I didn't know I would be getting two visitors this time,” Aubrey said. His voice was grainy and high for a man his age. “How'd you like to join your pals over in the corner.” He cocked his head towards the far right corner of the room. Three semi decomposed corpses layed in a heap. Feeling sick, Nathaniel took a step back, keeping full eye contact with the man.

    “Now the question is, do I kill the girl first, or the guy?” he pondered. His eyes wandered. Taking an opportunity where Aubrey began studying Catherine, Nathaniel swiftly grabbed the knife and sent it flying deep into his chest. Letting out a shriek of agony, Nathaniel could hear the gun fire twice before the man fell to the ground. Staring in horror, he watched as the bullets missed her head, instead flying through her right shoulder. Blood splattered from the holes and then started gushing out, staining her clothes. Rushing forward, he leaned over Aubrey. Grabbing the knife, he tore it out of the spot it had embedded itself in his chest, blood spilling more heavily from the wound. Running over to Catherine, he took the knife and cut the rope around her ankles. Easing her to the ground, he shoved his hands under her body and lifted her up, avoiding the bullet holes. Running her down the stares, he found himself face to face with a large crowd of people that must have heard the commotion. A gasp sounded from the crowd as they saw Catherine's body in his arms.

    “Is anyone here a doctor! I need help, now!” he shouted desperately.

6: Streams That Run Red

Streams That Run Red

 

 

    Nathaniel stared through the crowd, looking for anyone who looked like a doctor. The crowd split as a guard pushed his way through.

    “Follow me,” the guard said, waving Nathaniel towards him. He looked down at Catherine. The area where she had been shot was damp with blood and stained deep red. Gulping, he followed the guard through the crowd. People turned to look at Catherine as he passed by. A few people stepped forward to get a better look, but he brought her closer, feeling protective of her. After escaping the crowd, they sped up to a run.

    “Where are we going?” Nathaniel asked, following him around a bend in the road.

    “Our doctors are currently busy helping with a collapse in the tunnels in the north of the cities,” he replied.

    “Do you not have at least one doctor in this city?” Nathaniel could feel anger building up inside of him, not at the guard or at Aubrey, but at himself.

    “None that can treat a bullet wound, let alone two.”

    “Then what are we going to do! She's going to die if we don't do something soon!” He tried to calm down, but he couldn't control the level of his voice.

    “We need to go to the next city over, Olvano. It's a large city and we should be able to find a doctor and a place for you to stay if you have to. We'll take a stagecoach so we can get there in under ten minutes. Just keep pressure on the wound once you get in.” Nathaniel nodded, looking down at Catherine again. Rounding another bend in the road, a stagecoach came into view.

    “Luke, this is an emergency. We need to book it, double time, to Olvano. This girl's in trouble,” the guard shouted. A man in his fifty's nodded and jumped up on a large white oak, grabbing the reins and pulling them tight. Two underfed looking Cydesdales were attached to the reins. Opening the door, the guard helped Nathaniel up into the compartment and then followed him in. Sitting on the bench on the back end of the stagecoach, he lay Catherine's body down, resting her head and shoulders in his lap. He tore the shirt and brushed away the smoke and dust around the wound and pressed down to stop the blood flow. Soon after, the stagecoach jerked forward, accelerating quickly.

    “Don't worry. Luke's the best driver in town. We'll be there in no time, but before we arrive I need some information for the doctors,” the guard said.

    “Okay, what do you need?” Nathaniel replied.

    “I need your first and last names, your age and where you come from.”

    “Okay. Uh, my name's Nathaniel Gascoigne, but I'm guessing you knew that already. This is Catherine Aremiel. I'm eighteen and I'm assuming she is too, and we're currently residing in a bounty hunter camp somewhere in the Timadius forest. It should be marked with an X on this map,” Nathaniel answered, using his free hand to pull his map out of his pocket and hand it to the guard.

    “Well, I guess since you're not technically an active criminal I can say it's nice to meet you without running the risk of getting fired. You're a bit younger than I expected,” the guard replied, taking the map and unfolding it. Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

    “I get that a lot.”

    “I bet. By the way, the name's Elias Crane.”

    “Well it's a pleasure to meet you sir.” Elias studied the map intently.

    “Oh!” he said finally, a look of surprise on his face. “I remember now. You're part of the white branch of the bounty hunter camps. Y'know, the white branch is the furthest north camp on the continent.”

    “Is it. But I thought there was like, ten kilometres of land past the Timadius forest.”

    “Well, past the Timadius forest is the tundra's and ice sheets, and, while they may be suitable for cities, a camp like them wouldn't be able to handle the year round snowfall. The water would all freeze and the cabins would be destroyed by one bad storm, easy.”

    “That makes sense.” The stagecoach went silent, save the sounds of the outside. Nathaniel looked down nervously at Catherine. Her skin was growing pale, and blood coated Nathaniel's hand. Eventually the coach jerked forward again.

    “I think we're here,” Elias said, looking towards the door. He got up and opened it, allowing Nathaniel through. Elias ran past him and Nathaniel followed. He was stopped at the gate by two guards.

    “What's your business in Olvano?” the left guard demanded.

    “My name's Elias Crane, gate guard for the town of Paratria. I'm here with Nathaniel Gascoigne and Catherine Aremial,” Elias replied. The guards eyes widened at the sound of Nathaniel's name. They looked over at him, watching as he looked down at Catherine, making sure she was okay.

    “Yes, I know. The Nathaniel Gascoigne. Look, we don't have time for stalling. Catherine's taken two bullets to the shoulder and we don't have doctors in Paratria to treat her. We need to request immediate treatment here.”

    “Do you know where you're going?”

    “No actually. I've never been through Olvano before myself. Could you escort us?” The guard nodded, turning to run into the city. Elias and Nathaniel chased quickly after him. As they ran through the streets, people stared in their direction, trying to catch a glimpse at the odd ground of people. A few people peeked through windows to look. Turning left on the road, they found themselves standing in front of a two story building that looked well kept. The guard shoved the door open.

    “Oh! Officer Brocas. Is something wrong?” a young looking nurse asked, looking past a desk littered with papers.

    “I need a doctor stat. Two bullet wounds. We've been keeping pressure on the wounds but she's still bleeding a bit,” Brocas replied. The nurse gulped. Nodding her head, she got up and ran into the back of the room. A few moments later she peered her head out from around a turn in the hallway and waved them to follow her. Nathaniel pushed past Brocas and Elias, and they followed close behind him.

    Entering a brightly lit room similar to the doctor's room back at the camp, a doctor who looked to be in his mid twenties instructed Nathaniel to lay Catherine on the bed. He complied and stepped away as the doctor brought his ear to her chest, checking her heartbeat.

    “Her heartbeat's slow and heavy. We're going to need to work now,” the doctor said, turning to an assistant that had been with him in the room. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Nathaniel turned to see the nurse behind him.

    “I'm sorry to let you know, but we have to ask that you leave the room until the doctors are done with the procedure,” she said. Nathaniel stared at her, trying to hold back tears.

    “I understand,” he replied, nodding his head. His voice was croaky and ragged. He followed the nurse out of the room. Eventually they entered a slightly larger room with with a few chairs and a table with some books strewn across the top.

    “You can stay here for as long as you like,” the nurse said, motioning towards the chairs. Nathaniel thanked her and walked over to one of the chairs, falling back in it. He blinked heavily, finally realizing how tiring carrying Catherine around was. Trying not to think of her, he looked at the assortment of books. Choosing one with an appealing title, he opened it and started reading, distracting himself from the world around him.

 

Time Passed

 

    “Nathaniel Gascoigne?” The sound of the nurse's voice echoed in the empty room. Elias and Brocas had left. Although it was late, anxiety kept Nathaniel wide awake. His book was left on the table, flipped on it's pages, about halfway finished. He locked eyes with the nurse, who waved him over. She eventually led him to the room that Catherine was in. Opening the door, the nurse let Nathaniel in. The assistant had left, but the main doctor sat at a desk, writing notes in a small book. Nathaniel ran over to Catherine's bed, falling to his knees beside it. Her body was still and her skin was pale. Tears began forming in his eyes, running down his cheeks. He hung his head, his hair covering his face.

    “Nathaniel?” Catherine's voice was weak.

    “Catherine!” he gasped, snapping his head up. She stared back at him through heavy eyelids.

    “Why are you crying?” she asked softly. Nathaniel stared in disbelief.

    “B-because I thought my actions got you killed...” he replied, sniffling.

    “You're actions... it was my idea to go in first.”

    “But I could have easily said no and gone first. I could have burned through the trap or something. But I let you go first, and now you're here, at the edge of death.” His voice became more incomprehensible.

    “Hey... calm down. It'll be alright. The doctor says I just need to rest for a week or two and I should be fine.”

    “Y'know, you didn't have to be a part of any of this. You could have easily let me be captured by the police and killed. It probably would've been better anyways.” A sense of desperation flooded Nathaniel's thoughts.

    “Don't be like that. If I hadn't interfered, it wouldn't have been just.”

    “You and your damn justice all the time.” He stared at her, feeling frustrated, but his eyes softened when he saw her full body again. Standing up, he said; “Rest easy, okay. I'll be right over there in the chair, until you're asleep.” Catherine nodded, smiling subtly and closing her eyes. Nathaniel smiled back, and walked over to the chair. The smile was short lived, because as he sat down, thoughts about the day started flooding his head. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the thoughts, but before he knew it, he was asleep.

7: Judged by the Company You Keep

Judged by the Company You Keep


   November 2nd, 1654
   The transition from autumn to winter

   The beautiful red and orange autumn leaves made the forest top resemble a fire. The weather had a slight cold nip, but it was still warm. Nathaniel sat on the ground, his back against a tree, his hands out beside him. He stared for a couple minutes before Catherine came around the thick trunk of the tree.
   “Sorry that took so long,” she said, sitting down beside him. Reaching in a small bag, she pulled out a bun and handed it to Nathaniel. He took the bun and bit into it.    
   “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled by the bread. As he continued biting into the bun, he felt a warm pressure on his right hand. Looking over, he saw Catherine's hand over his. He looked up at her, but she was staring in another direction, eating her own bun. Swallowing her last bit, she looked forward into the forest.
   “Y'know, the autumn leaves look beautiful this year,” she said, marvelling at the forest.
   “Yeah. Maybe it's because we live in the middle of the forest?” Nathaniel replied. He felt her squeeze his hand tighter. Leaning forward, she stared into the forest.
   “Do you see that?” she asked.
   “See what?” he replied. He leaned forward to look where she was looking. 
   “It kind of looks li-” Her voice was cut off by the sound of an arrow firing and blood splattering. He looked over at Catherine, horrified. An arrow was sticking out from the area between her eyes, blood running from the wound. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. Before he could do anything, he heard another arrow fire and felt it drive through his temple, pinning him against the tree. Soon after, he was enveloped by darkness.

   June 20th, 1654
   The next morning

   “Agh!”
   The morning light flooded Nathaniel's vision. His heart pounded heavily and sweat coated his clothing. Feeling wide awake, he stood up, looking over at Catherine. She slept peacefully in her bed, her chest rising and falling gently, rhythmically. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he fell back in the chair, his heart rate settling.
   “Nightmare?” Nathaniel looked in the direction the voice came from. The doctor from yesterday was sitting at his desk, sorting a stack of files.
   “Yeah...” Nathaniel replied breathlessly. He slowed his breathing and his heart rate returned to normal.
   “Do you know what time it is?” he asked.
   “Seven thirty,” the doctor replied. Nathaniel nodded, but the doctor didn't see. After sitting in silence, Nathaniel got up to his chair and walked towards the door.
   “Hey Nathaniel,” the doctor said. Nathaniel looked back at the doctor. He still didn't stare back at him.
   “Yeah?” he said.
   “In this camp I was told about, is there a doctor that could take care of Catherine? They just have to monitor her heart rate and replace the bandage every few days.”
   “I think we do. She took care of a bunch of cuts in my mouth, so I think she can take care of her.”
   “Okay. Can I see you back here in a few hours, around ten maybe? I'm thinking it would be best to send you and her back to where you came from. I'll talk with the doctor there to make sure she knows what to do.”
   “Alright.” Finally, the doctor looked at him.
   “Thanks Nathaniel,” he said.
   “And you doc,” Nathaniel replied. He pushed the door opened and exited the room. As he walked past the desk, the nurse called his name. He looked over at her.
   “The guard from Paratria, Elias I think, left some things for you,” she said, placing some paper and a bag on the table. Nathaniel walked over and scanned the pile. In the pile was his map, and a note. He grabbed the note and starting reading it.

   Nathaniel,
   I hope Catherine's better. I wasn't sure what would happen with you, if you were gonna come back to Paratria to get the man you were hunting, so I sent Luke to bring him to your camp under your name. I also left you a bit of money in case you got hungry. Maybe I'll see you again.
   Yours truly,
       Elias Crane

   “Thanks,” Nathaniel said, gathering the pile of things.
   “Oh don't thank me. I was just keeping a hold of the stuff while you were asleep,” the nurse replied. Stuffing the note, map and bag in his pocket, he exited the building.
   The streets of Olvano were empty in the early morning. The air was warm and still. Feeling his stomach grumble, he took a quick look around to see if he could find anyplace to buy food. Eventually he settled for a small sandwich shop. He ordered a ham and cheese sandwich and devoured it quickly. Thanking the waiter, he left the building and looked for a candy shop. He found a large candy shop a couple blocks from the sandwich shop. Inside was filled with all kinds of candies. Looking through the rows, he found the marshmallows. They were bagged in groups of thirty-two. Grabbing a couple bags, he threw them on the counter.
   “That's a lotta marshmallows bud,” the shop owner said.
   “I'm aware,” Nathaniel replied.
   “Well, four bags of marshmallows amounts to ten dollars.” Nathaniel opened the bag and pulled out the coins he needed.
   “Just enough,” he said, placing them on the counter.
   “Have a nice day,” the clerk replied, grabbing the coins. Collecting the bags, Nathaniel looked at a small clock on the counter.
   Eight thirty. Damn, I'm going to be waiting for a while, he thought. Exiting the store, he decided to go back to the hospital so he could read the book he had started.  

Time Passed


   “Nathaniel? Could I see you now?” Nathaniel looked up from his book. Down the hall, the doctor looked over at him.
   “Yeah. One second,” he replied, placing his book down. Getting up from his chair, he followed the doctor to Catherine's room. Catherine was standing out of bed, looking at her arm, which was bandaged up and held in place by a sling.
   “Take a few moments to talk. I'm going to write down some last minute notes and then we'll head back to your camp,” the doctor said, leaning over his desk. Nathaniel nodded, walking over to Catherine.
   “So how are you feeling?” Nathaniel asked.
   “Better than yesterday, I can tell you that,” Catherine replied. “And how are you feeling?”
   “Well I'm just glad you're alright.”
   “I guess you could put it that way.”
   “You guess?”
   “Well, the doctor said that the gunshots weren't lethal, obviously, but he believes I'll have limited movement because the bullets deformed my shoulder socket.” Nathaniel stared at her in disbelief.
   “How can you be so calm about this? What are you gonna do? You can't bounty hunt with only one good arm.”
   “Sure I can. I could just learn to use something like a knife or a gun with my left hand, and then I can just be super sneaky, like a ninja or something.”
   “And you say I'm the one that's impossible.”
   “Hey. I'm just trying to make the best of a bad situation.”
   “Fair enough. Fair enough.” There were a couple minutes of silence and then the doctor got up from his desk.
   “Alright. If you guys have caught up, there should be a stagecoach waiting outside to take us to your camp. If you haven't, well the ride will be slow so we avoid irritating the wound so you'll have time to talk anyways.” Nathaniel and Catherine nodded, following the doctor as they led them to their ride.

Time Passed

   The ride was slow and smooth. The stagecoach had one Clydesdale pulling it and the back was a wooden trailer with an arched roof made of cloth over top. The inside was filled with hay, stacked to act as benches. The doctor sat at the front with the driver and Nathaniel and Catherine sat next to each other at the edge of the trailer, their feet dangling off. The ride mainly consisted of small talk and silence.
   When they arrived at camp a few people surrounded the entrance to see who the strange visitors were. The stagecoach stopped in front of the central building. After dropping from the stagecoach, Nathaniel helped Catherine off.
   “Thanks,” she said, taking his hand to support her as she dropped down. Soon after Arimielle exited the central building. Gasping, she ran towards Catherine.
   “What happened?” she asked, staring at the bandage and sling on her arm.
   “I got shot. Isn't it obvious?” Catherine replied. Arimielle glared at her.
   “I need to talk to the doctor in charge here.” The doctor walked around from the front of the coach.
   “Oh my god! You're Benedict Roos!” Arimielle said, marvelling at the doctor.
   “So you've heard of me?” Benedict replied.
   “Are you kidding? I've read all of your books! You're a genius in medical science!”
   “An aspiring doctor I presume?”
   “Well, I'm an administrator right now, but it would be so cool to be a doctor.” Her voice was suddenly shy and quiet.
   “How old are you?”
   “Twenty-two.”
   “Well if you're going to learn how to be a doctor then you should start soon.” Arimielle simply stared at him with a sparkle in her eye.
   “Now,” he began, “do you think you could lead me to the doctor then?”
   “Yes, right away sir!” Arimielle replied, leading him into the building.
   “Catherine,” he said, turning to look back at her. “Could you come with us?”
   “Yeah. Sure.” Catherine replied.
   “Thanks. Nathaniel, feel free to do as you please. I'll only be about ten minutes.” Nathaniel nodded. Grabbing the bags of marshmallows he had bought, he headed towards the lounge.
   He sat at an empty table and tore open the bag. Reaching in, he began popping marshmallow after marshmallow into his mouth. He recognized one of the twins from the fight he had with Ralf walking towards him.
   “May I sit?” he asked, reaching his table. Pulling a chair out, he sat down slowly without waiting for a reply.
   “Are you gonna start throwing insults at me? I'm really not in the mood.” Nathaniel said, looking down at his marshmallows.
   “Why would I do that?” he replied. His voice sounded oddly innocent for his age.
   “Didn't that Ralf guy or whatever send you over here to make fun of me or something?”
   “Oh. You mean my brother Ralf? You have to excuse his behaviour.”
   “You're brothers with that guy?”
   “Yeah. Me and my twin as well. His full name's Ralf Selwyn, I'm Nigel Selwyn and my twin's Ivo Selwyn.”
   “Okay. So what reason do I have to excuse him?”
   “Well the thing is, we came from a family that led a large criminal organization. We used to be on top, but then the police tracked us down and eventually captured us. Our parents weren’t given a chance but they decided to see how we’d do in a camp like this. After Ralf gained his status as the ‘king of the camp’, he started feeling threatened by anyone who seemed like they could take his place, because he didn’t take losing the title of leader in the old group well. Ivo's similar, but I myself try not to think about it too often.”
   “Well I can see why someone else might excuse him, but he beat my face in, so I don’t really want to.”
   “Yeah. I don’t blame you. It’s kind of odd though. He’s not usually this hostile. Whenever he’s hunting down someone who might take his place he’s very neutral.”
   “Okay. So I don’t forgive your brother, but I will apologize for snapping at you earlier.”
   “That’s okay.” Nigel pointed at the marshmallows.
   “Mind if I take one?” he asked. Nathaniel nodded and he popped one in his mouth.
   “You know, it’s kinda cool meeting you,” he said through the mouthful of marshmallow. “Back in criminal days I’d hear stories about you and I’d always wonder what you’d be like. I guess I don’t have to wonder now, huh.”
   “Well I can’t say I’m a fan of being world famous. It can make for some awkward situations in public nowadays.”
   “I bet. You’re on a whole ‘nother level. You’re up there with people like The Marshall and Red Maple.”
   “Well I didn’t mean to get there.” Nigel stared at him in disbelief.
   “How do you become one of the most successful criminals on the planet by accident?” he exclaimed.
   “You don’t have to yell, people will stare and I don't like that. Somebody who I guess knew about my family line tried to murder me, so I fought back. Then the police tried to capture me and my young, stupid thoughts got in the way of reason and I started killing any soldier who’d try to get near me. Eventually I turned to more reasonable means of escape, and that’s why if you look at the crimes I’ve committed, it switches from police murder to horse theft.”
   “What’s so special about your family line?” The sentence could have been rude but Nigel seemed completely engrossed in what Nathaniel had to say.
   “Well, I guess it’s no secret that I have powers that nobody else does. Well, they’re hereditary. My father had them. My grandfather had them. According to my mom, some people in our line, like my grandpa, would use them for noble purposes, while others would use the powers selfishly and maliciously, like my dad. You might know my grandpa’s name. He was Ormium’s trump card during the third world war. Jakys Alington.”
   “I might have read about him in school, but that was almost a decade ago so I don’t know if I’d remember.” Nigel chuckled.
   “Might I ask how old you are?” Nathaniel said.
   “Twenty-one, but I know you’re going to say I look and act a bit young for my age. I get that a lot,” Nigel replied, reaching for another marshmallow. Nathaniel slapped his hand.
   “Ow! Seriously mate, it’s just one marshmallow. You’ve got plenty,” he said, bringing his hand back.
   “This is barely enough to tide me over.”
   “Are you kidding me. I haven't seen anybody even finish one full bag of marshmallows, let alone four. Doesn't it bother your stomach?”
   “Hah. I've eaten eight bags of marshmallows over the course of a day. It's never bothered me.”
   “You must have an iron stomach.”
   “Well I like to think that, but anything that doesn't have a bunch of sugar in it usually bothers me.”
   “You're a weird guy, you know.”
   “Oh boy do I.” Nigel looked around the lounge.
   “Well, it was nice talking to ya mate. Maybe I'll see you around,” he finally said, getting up from his chair. 
   “Yeah. Sure,” Nathaniel replied. 
   “If you ever need a partner for a mission, you can always come to me. If you need to tell me from Ivo, I always part my hair on the right side.” Nathaniel nodded. A few moments after Nigel left, Catherine sat down beside him.
   “Who was that?” she asked, not bothering to wait for a hello.
   “His name's Nigel Selwyn.”
   “He's kinda cute y'know.”
   “God...” Nathaniel said, rolling his eyes.
   “What?” Catherine snapped.
   “Women.”
   “What about women?”
   “You just got back from talking to a doctor about two bullet wounds that've permanently damaged your shoulder and the first thought that crosses your mind is 'Hey that guy's cute'.”
   “Well you just don't understand women. We prioritize.”
   “Prioritize my ass. If you think a guy is more important than a gunshot wound then you've gotta seriously reconsider your values.”
   “Hmf. I didn't want to talk to you anyways,” she huffed, raising from her chair suddenly. She stormed off, snatching one of the marshmallow bags as she went.
   “Hey! Those are mine!” Nathaniel shouted after her. She didn't look back. “I payed good money for those!” Huffing, he turned back to his marshmallows, popping one in his mouth and grumbling.

8: Planning is the Key to Success

Planning is the Key to Success


   June 27th, 1654
   One week later

   “Nathaniel!” 
   Nathaniel heard the shout from the other side of the camp. Looking up from the cup of water he had just filled, he saw Nigel jogging towards him. He waved with his free hand. 
   “Are you busy mate?” he asked breathlessly, slowing to a walk beside him.
   “Well, not particularly. How come?” Nathaniel replied.
   “Cool. Me and a couple of my buddies were thinking about heading to a ghost town south of here. They say that a semi-famous bandit who runs a small gang is hiding out there. We've studied the layout of the town and it seems like your powers could come in handy.”
   “How so?”
   “Mmm... I shouldn't bring it up now in case someone overhears us and tries to intercept our plan,” Nigel said, his tone suddenly hushed. “If you meet us in the lounge at around ten thirty tonight then we'll do a more in depth overview, but the jist of it is we're going to need you to blow out the legs of a water tower near the main building.”
   “Depends on the material it's made of,” Nathaniel replied.
   “The legs are made of wood. Think you could handle that?” Nathaniel thought for a moment.
   “I could probably do it,” he finally replied, nodding his head.
   “Alright great! So I'll see you at ten thirty then?” Nathaniel nodded.

Time Passed

   The camp was quiet. Evensong birds chirped from deep within the forest and the wind blew softly. There weren't very many people left in the lounge at the time. A small group of hunters sat in a far corner of the room, having a quiet discussion. Another sat in the middle of the room, scribbling notes down in a book.
   When Nathaniel entered the dimly lit building, he saw Nigel wave him over to a table lit by a small lantern at the back wall. 
   “Glad of you to join us,” he said as Nathaniel sat down at the table. “I believe introductions are in order. Nathaniel, this is Nichol Gardyner and Gerard Staunton. Nichol, Gerard, this is Nathaniel Gascoigne.” The three shook hands, sharing quiet greetings with each other. Nichol had short spiky black hair and wore thick pants and a long sleeved shirt, while Gerard wore shorts, a t-shirt and a large hat. Nichol was short and skinny while Gerard appeared to be almost half a foot taller than Nathaniel. After they sat back in their seats, Nigel stood up from his. He moved the lantern to the side and slapped a map down on the middle of the table.
   “Alright,” he began. “What we have here is a rough layout of the ghost town Utona. It's been abandoned for quite some time, and the McAthel Bandit Gang has recently used it as their hideout. The gang is run by our target, Jonathan McAthel.” He put a wanted poster down on the table beside the map. The man in the picture was large and muscular, with a shaven head. Nigel moved his hand to the largest building on the map. 
   “This is rumoured to be the place he is residing in. It's located in the centre of town and used to be an old bar and casino, with renting spaces on the second floor. That means we need to watch that we only take money that was on the bandits.”
   “I thought we weren't allowed to take money out in the field,” Nathaniel interrupted.
   “Did you read that in the guide to becoming a bounty hunter?” Nigel asked.
   “Yes.”
   “Alright mate. I'm gonna teach you something so remember it. That thing has got to be at least ten years old. The rules about taking money have been lightened. They no longer want us to take substantial amount of money at a time, like what you can find in banks or hideouts. Pocket change is fine to keep.”
   “Alright.” Nathaniel continued listening to the briefing. 
   “So,” he continued, pointing to a circular building north of the main one. “This is the water tower. Our goal is to get here. We'll be travelling by stagecoach from the north, so the water tower will be a couple buildings south. Nichol is our scout and he's been able to determine that at any given time there's at least one guard patrolling the area. Before Nichol came to this camp he was a small-scale assassin for hire, so we'll have him take out the guard. Then when he gives us the signal, we'll make our way to the water tower. Since Nathaniel has his power, we then have him blow out the legs nearest to the main building, collapsing the water tower on top of it. Then me and Gerard will enter the building, and you two can catch up with us. Inside the building it'll be kill on sight. Any extra bandits we can bag, dead or alive is another one hundred dollars fattening our pay. The reward is two thousand, so we'll split it evenly four way. Any questions?”
   “Uh, yeah,” Nathaniel replied. “What're we gonna do about any bandits that might be in the other buildings?”
   “That's why we chose the time we did,” Nigel said. “In addition to having the cover of the night, around this time of those wankers would all be drinking until the puke or pass out.” There was a pause, and then Nigel spoke again.
   “Well, if there's no more questions then we should get going. Everybody ready?” Nathaniel, Nichol and Gerard nodded their heads in unison.
   “Alright then. It's show time.”

Time Passed

   “So you can buy horses and stagecoaches and such at the camp.” The wind rushed by as they travelled along the open fields, nearly drowning out the conversation. Nathaniel had sat in the front with Nichol while Nigel and Gerard sat in the back. 
   “Well, you can't buy horses or stagecoaches from the camp, but there's a stable set up a little ways east of the camp in case someone buys a horse from a city and needs a place to keep them,” Nichol replied. Nathaniel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a hard jerk from the stagecoach. From behind him Nathaniel heard a loud thud and a cry of anguish. Looked through the window behind the, rubbing the back of his head.
   “Oi! If I wanted to hire a bloody idiot to drive this thing I wouldn't have brought you guys around,” Nigel's muffled shout sounded from behind them. Nichol snickered. Nathaniel dropped from  his seat to the ground and he saw Nichol do. The grass around them was almost up to their elbow's.
   “Okay,” Nichol said, Nigel and Gerard joining them. “This is as far as we can safely get in the stagecoach, so we'll need to hoof it from here. We can use the grass as extra cover since I think I can see a light coming from the water tower, which I can only assume means they have a lookout.”
   “Damn. Looks like we're gonna have to readjust,” Nigel replied. He took out his map.
   “Nichol, is there any porches or such attached to the houses?”
   “Yeah. Almost every house has one.”
   “Is there a chair on any of these porches?”
   “Probably. Why?”
   “I think I have an idea.”

Time Passed

   Nathaniel, Nigel, Gerard and Nichol stood with their back against the house closest to the edge of the town. Nichol was the closest to the corner, taking a peek every so often. Eventually he crouched down and made his way around the corner. Nathaniel slid over, peering around it. 
   The lookout had gone around to the other side of the water tower to check the fields, and the night guard had turned his back to them. Stuffing a cloth in his mouth, Nichol took a knife from his belt and swiftly drove in into the guard's throat. Catching him under the arms, he quickly dragged him over to a chair and sat him down, giving him the appearance that he had fallen asleep. As quick as he had left, he was back with the others. He held a hand out for a moment, waiting for the lookout to return overseeing the town itself, and then led them behind the buildings to the water tower. 
   Running ahead, Nathaniel made his way to the first leg of the water tower. Wrapping his arms around it, he felt the leg disintegrate. The tower lurched to the side slightly. The lookout looked away from the town and tried to see what was happening, but Nathaniel had already destroyed the second leg, sending the water tower crashing into the building. The roof caved in as the heavy metal barrel fell onto it, breaking into several pieces. 
   “Alright go!” Nathaniel heard Nigel say. He dodged the broken wood that rained down around the building and followed Nigel and Gerard in to the building, Nichol not far behind them. 
   The building was a wreck. Pieces of what used to be the ceiling and second floor had fallen to the floor, crushing or impaling the people who'd been inside. Blood ran between the floorboards. 
   “It looks emp-.”Nigel was cut off by a shout. A short muscular man had jumped on him, attempting to stab at him with a knife. Nathaniel grabbed the man by the head and focused, blowing his skull apart. A stream of blood ran from the mans mouth. Pushing his now dead body off him, Nigel stood up, wiping the blood from his face.
   “Sorry,” Nathaniel said, masking his sickened thoughts with a false snicker.
   “Well now I know what it feels to be barfed blood on to,” Nigel replied.
   “You think everyone's dead?” Gerard asked.
   “I think we're good,” Nichol replied. 
   “Okay then, it's time to start rounding up the bodies. Be sure to be on the look out for McAthel, since he's our target.” The three nodded and started rounding up any of the bodies that had not been destroyed.

Time Passed

   “That's kind of a disgusting job, don't you think?” 
   Nathaniel still sat in the front with Nichol, while Nigel and Gerard involuntarily sat in the back with the bodies they had collected. 
   “As long as it makes us money and gets us out of the camp quicker then it's fine by me. Plus, those men had a lot of money on them.” Nichol replied.
   “Easier for you to say.”
   “Right. Your charge is like, two hundred thousand or something?”
   “Two fifty.”
   “Yeah. Well, all the more reason to squeeze as much money out of a mission as possible.”  
   “Fair enough.” The ride went on without much extra talking. Eventually they reached the camp. The stagecoach jolted forward as he stopped it outside the central building.
   “God damn it Nichol! I swear I'm going to wring your bloody neck!” Nigel shouted from the carriage. Nichol snickered again. Jumping down from the front, Nichol ran into the central building and soon exited, Arimielle following close behind him. Nigel and Gerard had already exited the back compartment and were beginning to drag McAthel's body out of the carriage. Taking the poster out of his pocket, Nichol handed it to Arimielle. 
   “We've returned with McAthel and eight of his men,” he said as she scanned the poster.
   “Alright. So that's two-thousand plus one-thousand two-hundred for the men. So three-thousand two-hundred. Impressive haul,” Arimielle said, doing a quick calculation.
   “Well when you split it four ways and take into account the provisions you need to buy, it's not really that much.” Arimielle chuckled.
   “Well if you follow me then I'll get the money for you,” she said
   “Mind splitting it into four bags for me?” 
   “Fine. Just this once.” 
   “Thanks.” Arimielle led Nichol back into the building. 
   “What's his deal?” Nathaniel asked, helping Nigel and Gerard unload the carriage.
   “He's completely infatuated with Arimielle,” Gerard replied, grunting as he lifted a particularly large man out.
   “He sure isn't subtle about it.” 
   “Ha. Nichol, subtle? He couldn't be any further from it,” Nigel scoffed. Nathaniel chuckled. After the men had been unloaded from the stagecoach, Arimielle, Nichol and two large muscular men in cargo shorts and ripped t-shirts came out of the building. Nichol came over to Nathanie, Nigel and Gerard, splitting the money with them while the two men started carrying the bodies away. 
   “So it's a grand total of eight-hundred dollars for each of us,” Nichol said, handing everyone a stack of fifty dollar bills. 
   “Seems like a pretty good haul, huh,” Nigel remarked, leafing through the pile.
   “I guess so,” Gerard replied. Nathaniel didn't say anything. He instead split the pile in two halves and stuffed one half in his pocket.
   “Well I best be off,” Nathaniel said, double checking the stack in his hands.
   “Alright. Thanks for all the help Nathaniel,” Nigel replied. Nathaniel waved and turned to head back to the cabins. Reaching Catherine's shack, he knocked on her door thrice.
   “Oh. Hey Nathaniel,” she said sleepily, opening the cabin door. 
   “Were you just asleep or something?” Nathaniel asked.
   “Yeah. I woke up a couple minutes ago.”
   “Okay. Well I have something to give to you.” He handed her the stack of money in his hand. Catherine stared at the pile, not making any move to take it.
   “Take it,” Nathaniel said, shoving the stack towards her. 
   “How much money is that?” Catherine asked. 
   “Four-hundred,”
   “W-what! I can't take that. Where'd it come from?”
   “Bounty hunting. Where else?”
   “But that's your money.”
   “No, it's yours.”
   “What do you mean?”
   “I'm paying you back.”
   “Paying me back for what?”
   “For saving my life.” Catherine stared at Nathaniel in disbelief.
   “Saving your life? What?” she stammered.
   “Remember?” Nathaniel said. “Back in Ebia, when the police cornered me. You stepped in and got me here instead of the death penalty.”
   “But you could have just forced your way out of the police's grasp.”
   “Ha. I was just about ready to give up running. If they had caught I probably would have let them kill me.” Catherine stared for a few moments, not saying anything.
   “So,” Nathaniel said, waggling the pile, “take it. From now on, half the money I make goes to you, to try and repay for what you did.”
   “W-well, I'm only going to accept it if you make the same deal with me,” Catherine said, finally taking the money. 
   “It's your money so you do what you wish.”
   “Alright.” Nathaniel turned to head towards the market.
   “Hey Nathaniel,” he heard Catherine call.
   “Yeah?” he said, turning back to look at her.
   “Thanks.”
   “Hey. What are friends for.”

9: Playing With Fire Part I

Playing With Fire Part I

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    July 4th, 1654

    A week later

 

    “So they say you're allowed to leave the hospital now?”

    “Yeah. They say my treatment can't be going any better. They say I'll even get to continue bounty hunting in a couple of months!” Nathaniel and Catherine sat outside the central building, conversing about Catherine's discharge from the hospital.

    “So we're still not going to be able to bounty hunt for a while?”

    “Well, not necessarily. While I can't be out in the field, I'm still able to formulate plans and stuff like that.”

    “Are you implying I can't formulate plans by myself?”    

    “Not necessarily.”

    “That's a yes.”

    “Okay. I'm sorry. You're just a bit too, I dunno, under prepared for stuff.” Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at Catherine.

    “Fine.” He huffed frustratingly. “Where are your charges standing?”

    “Hmmm. With the money you've given me I think I'm around two-hundred and forty-eight thousand,” Catherine replied.

    “God damn. We've only chipped off two thousand dollars in over two weeks.”

    “That's not a long time.”

    “Being a bounty hunter blows sometimes.”

    “Suck it up princess.”

    “Shut up.” They sat in silence for a moment, watching as the laggards checked the board for posters.

    “I think I'll go on a hunting missions today,” Nathaniel said, getting up from his spot. Catherine got up after him. Her injury made her slow and awkward. They walked up to the board as the last of the hunters left. There were scarce posters left. A poster immediately caught his eye. Ripping it off the wall, he stared down at the crumpled paper.

    “This is quite the outfit,” Nathaniel said, looking at the photo.

    “Lemme see,” Catherine said, grabbing at the poster. Nathaniel handed it over to her. Her eyes widened as she studied it. He wore a red large lipped hat decorated with gold and a red cloak that spread open and fell to his feet, fringed with gold as well and covered with metal shoulder covers.

    “Some hat,” she said.

    “I like it,” Nathaniel replied.

    “Can you steal clothing from people?”

    “I don't know.”

    “Okay. So it says here that he's wanted for kidnapping, last seen north of Ebia and has a reward for three thousand dollars.”

    “Wow. For one guy?”

    “I guess so.”

    “How many people does it say.”

    “One to two.”

    “Alright. Easy money.”

    “Seems a bit fishy.”

    “How so?”

    “Well, it's just that I've seen some gang leaders with bounties lower than that. Why would they place such a high bounty on one person?"

    "I guess I'll find out."

    "B-but what happens if you don't come back? You've never done a mission by yourself. You've always had me or Nigel or whoever." Nathaniel looked over at Catherine, frowning and staring at her strangely. He had never heard her so concerned about him before. She sounded extremely concerned. After a moment he smiled softly.

    “Hey. Don’t worry about me. You know that I can get out of anything,” he said reassuringly, gripping her arm gently.

    “But what if you get out of control?”she argued.

    “Hey. If it makes you feel better, I promise that if it gets even remotely hairy out there, I’ll back off. Okay?” Catherine stared up at him.

    “Alright,” she breathed. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

    “I promise.” Nathaniel let go of her arm. Stuffing the poster in his pocket, he headed towards his house to prepare himself for the hunt, Catherine following behind him.

 

Time Passed

 

    “So the plan is to act slowly and carefully then?”

    “Yeah. That way we can avoid as much trouble as possible.” Nathaniel scribbled a few notes on the back of his map.

    “Y’know,” Catherine said, staring at him, “you should probably get a notebook or something. That map is already running out of room.”

    “Maybe with the money I get from this hunt, but this will do for now,” Nathaniel replied, writing the last few words onto it. Pulling out a compass he had bought a few days prior, he flipped the lid and located the south.

    “Well I’ll be off then,” Nathaniel said.

    “Good luck Nathaniel,” Catherine replied. Nathaniel turned to walk away when he felt Catherine’s hand grab his shoulder.

    “Nathaniel, could I ask a favour?” she asked.

    “Uh, sure, I guess. What is it?” Nathaniel replied.

    “If you’re going near Ebia, do you think you could check around the horse markets to see if you could find Snow Dancer?”

    “Who’s Snow Dancer?”

    “Snow Dancer’s my horse. She’s a bright white Andalusian with lighter grey specks. A bit smaller than most Andalusian.”

    “I should let you know that I’m bad with horses and any other animal species for that matter. Is there like, anything specific about Snow Dancer that I could look for?” Catherine thought for a moment.

    "Mmmm... well she does have a slightly hidden mark shaped like a heart on her stomach," she finally said.

    "Okay," Nathaniel replied. "I'll take a look."

    "Thanks." Nathaniel simply nodded. Turning away, he headed into the forest, shooting a final look back at Catherine, who had already started heading to her cabin.

 

Time Passed

 

    The walk to Ebia was long and hot. Hardly a breeze blew over him. Nathaniel relished whenever a cool wind blew over him. The path he took twisted and turned through the Cobalt Plains. The strangely coloured blueish green grass stood straight up, cattails of a similar colour sticking up higher. Nathaniel cursed loudly as he passed by a ground of wild horses, and cursed under his breath when a stagecoach or horse rider passed him. Wishing he could pass out right as he was, Nathaniel found himself outside the Northern gates of Ebia. Four guards were on post.

    Two of the guards held menacing looking halberds in front of the gate while the other two stood outside the gate, large elm longbows at their sides. One of the guards with the bows, a large beefy man with a bald cut and a thick moustache, walked towards him, his silver and gold plated armour bouncing with his strides as if attached to hinges.

    "Nathaniel Gascoigne," he said. His voice was rough and unwelcoming. Nathaniel gulped, realizing it hadn't even been a month since he was a criminal.

    "I thought the government would've kicked yer ass straight to the klink. You really wanna show yer face 'round these parts?" he continued. Nathaniel had a feeling the questions wasn't meant as a warning.

    "Yes sir," Nathaniel replied, giving him a hard stare. "I'm here to investigate a number of kidnappings that have been arising in these parts. Do you think you could give me an idea of what I'm looking at?"

    "Sorry. Can't disclose that kind of information to a criminal like you, but as a general location, the kidnappings seem to happen around the farms, a little ways west of here." Nathaniel stifled a groan at the notion that he'd have to travel a substantial distance so soon after his walk to Ebia.

    "Alright. Thanks," Nathaniel said, trying to sound cheerful. The guard didn't reply, but instead waved his hand in a circle at the two men with the halberds. They nodded and raised their weapons, the guard near Nathaniel waving him into the town. Nathaniel nodded and complied, walking into the bustling streets.

    The large amount of people weaving between each other made it unlikely that anyone would notice Nathaniel easily, especially with his more cleaned up appearance and different outfit. As he made his way along the side roads the crowds thinned and he noticed people shooting him surprised and nervous looks. Eventually he found himself around the farms. It was a sleepy slice of land populated by few people with large expanses of fresh land covered in various crops for the farmers to work on. Nathaniel knew there weren't many farms as large as this.

    The strange looks that he had been given earlier had ceased, giving him the impression that the farmers weren't current with the news. He stared in awe at the sheer manpower that had been put into the farms when a paper stapled to a pole caught his eye. A poster with Catherine's face on it was posted on the pole with some writing underneath.

    "Have you seen my acquaintance," Nathaniel breathed, reading the text. "Her name is Catherine Amiriel. I've read that she had been taken in by police but I have not been able to locate her in any prison in Ebia. Her parents are a wealthy couple from Olvano who are willing to pay a hefty sum of money for any information regarding her location. If you know anything, please contact William Bastom at the Bastom ranch." Realization his Nathaniel like a wave.

    Crap. Catherine's parents have no clue what's happened to her, he thought, crumpling the paper. What am I supposed to do? Pushing the thought aside for later, he folded the paper up and put it in his pocket so he could show Catherine later. Realizing he didn't have much to go off of, he decided to ask around to see if anyone had information. Knocking on a heavy wooden door, a large bellied man in overalls and a white stained t-shirt answered with a rifle pointed straight at Nathaniel’s face.

    "If you think you can just come by and steal another one of my children then your sadly mistaken, schmuck!" he shouted, pushing the rifle closer towards him. Feeling sweat beading on his forehead, he tried to speak.

    "I-I-I'm not here to steal anyone!" he stammered anxiously, his eyes crossing to stare at the barrel of the gun as the cold metal pressed against the bridge of his nose.

    "Then what do you want?" the man demanded, pressing the gun harder.

    "I-I'm actually here t-to investigate a series of kidnappings around this area. I-I'm hunting the man doing them." The man quickly dropped the gun, a wild look of desperation on his face.

    "Does that mean you can save my daughter?" he cried, his eyes growing glassy.

    "W-well, I mean, if I can find them then I guess so," Nathaniel replied, unsure of what to say.

    "Then please, come in, come in! I'll tell you anything you need to know!" The man stepped away from the doorway, allowing Nathaniel access. He entered the building, nervous as to what to expect.

    The house was large and quite pretty to look at. The farmers must make a lot of money, he thought, staring at the decorations scattered around the house. Behind the elegance though, Nathaniel could sense disarray. Objects were strewn across the tables and counters as if the house had recently stopped being kept clean.

    Pulling out a chair for Nathaniel to sit in, the man sat across from him, motioning for him to sit. He had calmed down considerably from earlier. Sitting down in the chair the man had gotten him, he stared over at him. He took his rifle and placed it on the table, the other objects rattling quietly.

    "Please excuse my behaviour. Me and my wife are quite stressed. Recently our uh, our daughter was... kidnapped. We went to sleep and when we woke up she wasn't in her bed," the man explained. He choked on the words as he talked.

    "Alright," Nathaniel said, understanding his behaviour. "You don't have to explain. Let's just start from the beginning. How about you introduce yourself," Nathaniel replied.

    "Okay. My name's Aren Matthews."

    "Nice to meet you Aren. My name's Nathaniel." They shook hands in a quick greeting.

    "So what do you want to know exactly?" Aren's voice was rough and grating, like he didn't use it often.

    "Well, anything besides his outfit, which I already know. Maybe where he went after the kidnapping to start."

    "Okay. So since it was nighttime and I was asleep, I myself didn't see the kidnapper or where he went, but after I found out and asked around, I found that some late night farmers had seen a bright orange light travelling through a wheat field before growing larger and shooting off through the sky."

    "An orange light. Do you know what it looked like, as in shape."

    "Well it just sort of looked like an ovalish shape with a darker outline of a human in the middle." Nathaniel narrowed his eyes.

    "What're you thinking?" Aren asked, looking over at Nathaniel.

    "Hm. The description you've given me is very much like the description of a phoenix, but the shape is off." Nathaniel mumbled.

    "A phoenix? Like the legendary fiery birds?"

    "Yeah."

    "What would a phoenix want with my daughter?"

    "The better question is what a phoenix would be doing so far north. They can't survive unless they're in extremely hot southern climates." Nathaniel thought for a moment and said, "Well, the odds are it's not a phoenix, so we should forget that. The odds are it's a fire wizard."

    "So then you can get my daughter back?" Aren asked.

    "Most likely. I just need to know what direction he went in." Nathaniel replied.

    "I could take you to where the burnt crops are, and maybe you can figure something out."

    "Alright. Let's go then. Do you need to let your wife know you're going out?"

    "She's out right now. I'm sure we won't be longer than her." Nathaniel nodded. Grabbing the rifle off the table, Aren got up from his seat and headed towards the door. Nathaniel sat at his spot for a moment, reflecting on the possibilities that had come up. He felt a knot in his stomach for an unknown reason.

    It's just a fire wizard, he reassured himself.

    Just... a fire wizard.

 

Time Passed

 

    The wheat fields were even more impressive up close. The crops raised up to Nathaniel's hips, brushing him whenever the evening wind blew. The sun was slowly creeping behind clouds at the horizon. Nathaniel and Aren had taken a pathway that was carved into the field with fire. The wheat along the path was blackened and burnt to the ground. Eventually the pathway opened up into a perfect circle, wheat around in snapped away from them. On the other end of the circle was a short protrusion of ash.

    "This is... weird," Nathaniel said, looking around the opening.

    "Nobody could think of something that could do this." Aren replied.

    "Well you said that people said the figure rose up and flew off in a certain direction, right?"

    "Right. How come?"

    "I think he went that way." Nathaniel pointed towards the protrusion opposite the path.

    "Why do you say that?" Aren asked.

    "Well think of it this way. If the kidnapper shot into the air then this protrusion was the angle he took to get into the air." Nathaniel felt proud of the deduction he made.

    "So you're assuming the kidnapper went in that direction?" Nathaniel nodded.

    "The only problem," he said, "is that I don't know how far."

    "Well is transportation the problem? I could let you borrow a horse." The desperation had returned to Aren's voice, as if the lack of transportation would cause Nathaniel to quit. Nathaniel silently prodded the idea, realizing it could possibly be the situation. Pushing the thought aside, Nathaniel remembered he needed to find Snow Dancer anyways.

    "That's alright," he said. "I'm already looking to buy a horse. Are you current with horse markets?"

    "Kind of. How come?" Aren said.

    "I'm looking for a specific horse."

    "How specific."

    "It was a horse a friend of mine lost, and since I'm coming through here she asked me if I could look."

    "Alright. Describe it."

    "I've never seen it myself, but the information I was given was that it was a white Andalusian white grey specks and a heart shaped marking on it's stomach."

    "Okay. I don't know the horses top the specific details but I know that recently a horse market near the eastern ports had taken in a white horse recently." The ports... Nathaniel thought, flashing back to when Catherine had saved him. He was still confused as to why Catherine had done what she did. She didn't know him personally, and he was also a criminal. Well, she did me a favour, so I guess I have to return it, he thought. Snapping back to reality, he turned to Aren.

    "Okay," he said. "Thanks for all the information. I'll get the horse and come back. Mind if I cut through your property to get back here?" Aren nodded in reply.

    "So I'll see you back here soon?" Aren asked.

    "Yeah. Soon," Nathaniel replied.

    "I should let you know, if you save my daughter I will forever be in your debt." Nathaniel was unsure of what to say.

    "Don't be. It'll be my pleasure," Nathaniel finally said. Aren shrugged. Turning away, Nathaniel made his way back into the city. As he walked, fantasies of how happy Catherine would be when he brought the horse back crept into his mind. Feeling suddenly weird, Nathaniel ignored them, instead focusing on where he was headed.