Chapter 5: Shadows of Doubt
The Guild of Hunters stood like a fortress carved from black stone, banners of crimson and silver snapping in the night wind. Its gates were tall enough to fit a giant, its walls thick enough to stop a dragon’s charge. For most hunters, entering this hall was an honor.
For Kael, it was a trial.
The moment he stepped through the doors, the atmosphere shifted. Voices dimmed. Eyes tracked him. The great hall smelled of oil and steel, of leather and old blood, but underneath was something sharper—the stink of suspicion.
"That’s him."
"The shadowmarked one."
"Why would the Guild let that thing in?"
Kael kept walking, steps measured, cloak drawn tight. Shade padded beside him, tail high, as if daring anyone to move closer.
Kael (quiet, to Shade): “Ignore them. We only need the mission board.”
Shade, in perfect defiance, stopped in the middle of the hall, lifted his leg, and almost marked one of the marble columns.
Kael (grabbing him by the scruff, muttering): “Are you trying to get me executed?”
A few hunters burst out laughing. Others sneered. But the tension broke for a heartbeat, and Kael used it to slip to the far wall where the mission board loomed.
---
The parchment sheets fluttered in the draft. Contracts scrawled in ink: beast exterminations, dungeon clearances, escort requests. Kael scanned them, fingers brushing one that read Tier-C Rift: Blackwood Outskirts.
Before he could pull it free, a voice rang out across the hall.
Voice (mocking, loud): “Well, if it isn’t the Abyss’s favorite son.”
Kael turned slowly. A squad of armored hunters approached, led by a man with hair like molten copper and eyes sharp as knives—Rylan Veyr, rising star of the Guild. His reputation was iron: a flawless record, brutal methods, and an ego larger than the city walls.
Rylan (grinning): “Careful with that job, shadowspawn. Wouldn’t want you slipping back into the abyss where you belong.”
Laughter rippled through his men. Kael said nothing, gaze steady. But the shadows at his feet coiled faintly, like smoke waiting for a spark.
Kael (flat): “Step aside.”
Rylan leaned closer, so near Kael could smell the mead on his breath.
Rylan (low, venomous): “Or what? You’ll let your pet wolf eat me? Or maybe the abyss will answer for you?”
Shade snarled, fur bristling, teeth gleaming white in the lamplight. The wolf’s growl echoed across the hall, silencing a dozen conversations. Hunters stiffened.
The tension was a knife-edge—until a clear voice cut through.
Seraphine: “That’s enough.”
---
The crowd parted as she walked forward, staff in hand, healer’s robes flowing. Her amber eyes locked onto Rylan with calm fire.
Seraphine: “Veyr, you talk too much. If you’ve got so much energy, spend it on clearing a Rift instead of picking fights in hallways.”
Rylan’s smile faltered. For a moment, Kael thought he’d strike her too. But Seraphine didn’t flinch. She simply lifted a parchment from the mission board and handed it to Kael.
Seraphine (firm, to Kael): “Come with me. This contract—Tier-C Rift at Blackwood—will do.”
Kael blinked.
Kael: “…You’re volunteering to work with me?”
Her lips curved faintly.
Seraphine: “Unless you’d prefer to sulk in a corner while they bark at you.”
Kael’s ears burned, though he hid it behind a scowl.
Kael (grumbling): “You’re… irritating.”
Shade barked once, tail wagging.
Seraphine (smiling at the wolf): “At least someone agrees with me.”
---
They left the hall together. Behind them, Rylan’s glare burned hotter than flame. His voice, low and furious, followed them into the night.
Rylan (to his squad, whispering): “The abyss-marked won’t last long. And when he falls, I’ll be there to make sure he never rises again.”
---
Outside, under the pale lanterns lining the cobbled street, Kael finally exhaled. The night air felt cleaner than the Guild’s suffocating walls.
He glanced at Seraphine, walking quietly beside him, staff tapping lightly against stone.
Kael (soft, almost reluctant): “…Why do you defend me?”
Seraphine didn’t answer immediately. She looked up at the stars, her expression unreadable. Then she said:
Seraphine: “Because I see what they don’t. You carry shadows, yes—but they haven’t swallowed you. Not yet.”
Her words lingered. Kael looked away, jaw tightening, shadows curling faintly around his boots.
Kael (whispering, almost to himself): “…Not yet.”
---
Later, in the quiet of his quarters, Kael sat at his desk sharpening his blade. Shade sprawled across his bed, snoring.
But in the reflection of the steel, Kael didn’t see his own face. He saw something darker, something with glowing eyes and too many teeth.
"You belong to us."
The whisper made him flinch, blade slipping, cutting his hand. Shadows stirred hungrily at the scent of blood—until Shade jolted awake, leaping to his side, growling at nothing.
Kael pressed a cloth to the wound, breathing hard.
Kael (to himself, quiet): “…They’re right to doubt me.”
But in his mind echoed Seraphine’s voice—“You carry shadows, but they haven’t swallowed you. Not yet.”
And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that fragile thread of belief kept the darkness at bay.
---
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