Usurper of Fire

Hunter awoke in the castle’s infirmary. The beds and linens were much softer and warmer than he was accustomed to. Groans from the unlucky few came from behind cloth screens. He was surprised to find he was capable of waking. He assumed he would have succumbed to his wounds. Then again, he’s faced worse odds in the past.

It hurt to move to check his body for the damage. As he struggled to tilt his head down, his cloth screen burst open. There stood the Inquisitor herself. She gazed at him like she was waiting for him to get up and serve her lunch. He let his head fall onto the pillow and closed his eyes.

“You’ve been here for days now.” She checked his bandages herself. “The wounds have healed nicely. You’ll make a full recovery after all.”

A short nurse with a face mask and a saw walked over to them.

“I think we should take his leg, ma’am. Nothing crazy, just everything below the mid-thigh.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” the Inquisitor said.

“All right then. Just everything below the knee should be fine.”

“No.”

“An arm?”

“No…”

“A finger?”

“No! You’re not cutting anything off him today.”

Flustered, the nurse threw her hands into the air and dropped her saw on the floor in the process.

“I’ll need a clean saw. I’ll be right back.” She left.

Hunter and the Inquisitor both looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Glad I could still be of service,” he said.

“Oh you will. For as long as I have use for you, you don’t have my permission to perish to creatures so far below you.”

“Well, got that going for me at least.” As he struggled to sit up, she just watched with her hands clasped together, remaining still. He reached for the water by his bed, but she handed him a blue vial instead.

“From your own supply, it was the last one you had left. I see you used your forbidden elixir and still lost…Tis a shame, afterall. You are aware of the cost are you not?”

“What’s another couple years off the top?” He tried to swallow the water but the pain made him choke on it. He resisted the urge to cough, and let it slide down his throat.

“So, our reports are true then? Teavis is of immortal flesh?” She unclasped her hands and took the cup of water from him.

He downed the blue healing vial, it soothed the pain in his throat as it passed through it.

“Shoulda killed em a dozen times over. In the end, I hardly phased him.” He threw the empty vial at the wall as hard as he could, shattering the glass all over the ground.

A nearby servant quickly ran over to clean the mess.

“Why is it that all the vermin are so hard to snuff out?”

“Power will make a man pour his wicked will into the world.” She headed toward the exit.

“And what about you?”

“Me? Oh darling. I am not a man.” She smiled. “Come to my office as soon as you are able to walk. If you take too long, I’ll have your sight stripped, and you’ll be demoted to jailer like the rest of the unfounded.”

Hunter watched her leave before slinking back into bed. He closed his eyes and focused on the healing power of the vial he drank. In deep thought, he could speed up the process. But his mind kept finding focus on Teavis and the battle. How he had tricked him with an alter ego. His wicked face and his insane chatter. How did something like that become so powerful? Are the gods that indifferent?

“Was hoping you were dead,” a familiar deep voice said from the side of his bed. “I see how it is. The scum get to become pets. The weak live to fight another day, while the real men are sent to their demise.”

“Chase…”

“Nobody wants you here, Hunter, and when the day comes that she loses whatever interest she has in you…well, you know what happens then, right?” In fine satin and leather clothing, Chase folded his arms at the side of the bed. Gold and gems adorned his revolver that sat in a fancy black leather holster on a similar belt. His face was red, bearded, and worn from what looked like an eternity in the sun. His black hair was fading to gray.

“You know, Chase…” Hunter sat up and got out of the bed. In only his underwear, he stood next to the man. Horrible scars covered his entire body. He had to look up to stare him in the eye. “You can quit all this fancy talk, and we can just do this now.”

“I’m sure you’d like that. What’s another dead lawman to someone like you, huh? We both know what happens if I kill you now. Apparently, you’re the only one who can get away with something like that.” Chase bumped his chest into Hunter and left the room.

Hunter stood still for a moment before calling the nearby servant to bring him his clothing. The servant apologized and instead brought him a new outfit to wear, seeing as his old one was full of holes, tears, and blood.

“Where are you going?” The nurse walked back into the room with a new saw. “You still have all your limbs.”

“It’s time for me to go, darlin’,” he said as he laid out his clothes.

“Why did I even take this stupid job? I’ve hardly cut off anything this week!”

A loud scream echoed from the hallway.

“He’s got a nasty leg wound.” The doctor pushed a stretcher toward the other attendees. “We’re gonna have to do something soon!”

The nurse's eyes lit up, and she ran out of the room, holding up the saw.

“I’ve got the cure all right here guys!” She followed the doctors into the surgery room.

Hunter got dressed and left to meet with his boss. He felt at least seventy percent healed, which was about normal for him. He’d have to remember to make more vials before setting out again.

He walked through the long marble hallways of the Sinless Requiem. As he approached her doorway, he found she had doubled her guard since his previous visit. As he approached, one of the guards stopped him at spear-point.

“Sunrise over mountains,” the guard said.

“Waves on shores,” Hunter replied.

The guard withdrew his spear, and another opened the door. He entered her chambers.

They hadn’t changed one bit since he had started there decades ago. White and black tiles cover the walls and the ceilings, swirling black-and-white patterns in the middle. Her large oak desk sat in front of shelves that contained hundreds of files she deemed important. Paintings of the history of the Speakers adorned the walls. The only new painting was high above her head, behind her. It showed the Razas’ adornments in the trial of judgement, a fairly newer spectacle.

“Permission to continue duty ma’am,” he said.

She didn’t even look up from her scribbling. “Denied.”

“Permission to continue to serve my sworn duty…ma’am.”

“You are denied your personal pursuits, Hunter. Don’t force my hand.” She looked up from her writing, pushing the papers to the side. “Do you know what we do here, Hunter?”

“Keep the king's peace, ma’am.”

“Wrong.”

A look of confusion came over his face.

“If our job was to keep the peace, we’d all be long gone by now. No…We don’t keep the peace. For the peace is not ours to keep.”

“You point, I shoot. All the same. Not much more complicated than that.” He reached for a cigar, but then remembered where he was, and thought better of it.

“Oh it matters more than you think. Without purpose…people lose sight of the important things in life. They become vagrants, sinners, and sycophants. So, no, we don’t keep the peace. We pluck annoying weeds from an eternal garden. The job is never done, and the garden never sees its true beauty.”

She pulled the papers back in front of her, and continued reading.

“So, I’m being reassigned, I take it.”

“Yes indeed. For you have failed.”

He sighed.

“I had a chance to kill two birds with one stone, you told us if we ever get the chance that we–”

“You failed. That’s all there is to it.”

He sat forward, frustrated. “So what is my new assignment then?”

She slammed the paper she was reading down onto the table.

“Antsy are you? First I need to know something from you, and depending on your answer, you might not leave this very room.” Electricity bounced off a coil she kept on her desk for intimidation just like this.

He took a deep breath. “I’m an open book.”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

His throat fell to his stomach.

“Why did you let that boy live?”

He didn’t have an answer to satisfy her, he stared at the painting above her. A part of him wondered if he’d have to participate in the ritual and what that would mean for him.