The Hunt

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As the rush of smoke and flame faded, the main hall came into view. The Gothic style décor only added to the ominous feeling already surrounding me. I hadn't been but five minutes behind Corbin at most, yet he lounged in an over sized armchair like he had been waiting hours. In one hand he gripped his scythe while in the other he held a conjured ball of his signature golden sand. His jade green eyes locked onto mine as I inched closer; the sand taking on a woman's figure. The smirk upon his face and his appraising stare expressed exactly where he had gotten the inspiration for this impromptu art session.

"Let's get this over with," I grumbled.

In one fluid motion he hauled himself to his feet and crossed the room. I was shocked to hear the lack of witty retort as he extended a hand. He took my hand without a word and I soon felt the familiar pull of his favored "transportation system." The blinding light attempting to breach my eyelids alerted me to our arrival shortly after the unnerving tug began.

"I'll find a place to stay, you get tracking," I heard him mutter in harsh tones.

This was a completely different Corbin; all business and cold. I hated to admit it but, once my vision focused and I saw him exit the alley in which we had "landed", I almost felt...hurt. Shaking off that unwelcome feeling, I felt the call of the obutum animae within my mind; the target was close.

"Not here five damn minutes and already have to work," I murmured to the air around me.

Squinting against the foreign sunlight I moved from my position in the alleyway. It never ceased to amaze me whenever I ventured to what I affectionately referred to as the "surface." The myriad of colors dancing within a single leaf was enough to make me want to stay; leave my world of eternal darkness behind. With a sigh, I shoved such rebellious thoughts away and scanned the people as they passed by; searching for the one color that would give him away; blood red.

'Make it obvious you're not from around her why don't you?' his voice hissed in my mind.

'What's that supposed to mean?' I snapped back.

'Standing there gaping like an idiot tourist.'

I huffed and sat down on a nearby bench; trying to look inconspicuous.

'And what, pray tell, do you suggest?'

'Left front pocket; try wearing them genius.'

I held back the slew of cursing and insults; instead, reaching into my front pocket.

"Could've reminded me before now Corbin," I muttered, slipping on the dark sunglasses.

They had been a "souvenir" from our last visit and I'd just forgotten about them. The glasses dimmed the sunlight but only intensified the auras' glow.

'I'm going West for now,' I reported back to my escort.

'I know that Isolde; bonded remember?'

I shuddered at that word as well as how he said it.

'Only you could make that dirty.'

'Tis a gift now, get moving.'

Only here did he dare order me around. It was a death wish to do so in my father's realm. Wandering aimlessly through the center of town, I watched the rainbow of colors rush by me; calm blues, envious greens, somber gray and even the rare golden sheen of those kind souls that still remained. This place never failed to bring back memories of my childhood; or lack thereof. Dad never talked much about my mother; only saying enough to make me wish I'd met her.

"Oh what a beautiful soul she was Isolde; my light in this blackness of a world."

He would look at me with sorrow filled eyes and say how much I looked like her. I'd tried throughout my nearly four hundred years of life to get answers; even a name would do. Yet to even ask anyone but my father would earn me shocked gasps and hasty exits. Even the most persistent souls have their breaking point; mine was last year. I'd managed to reach the business district without realizing it. The skyscrapers and jet black auras were a dead giveaway; life draining jobs quite literally. The scent of deceit was thick in the air as was that of brimstone; something I would always recognize. The signature aroma of evil flowed through the air and toward one group of men. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I caught a glimpse of the scarlet shadow surrounding the man clad in navy blue. Holding my hand to my lips, I muttered the word to summon him. I affectionately called him "Bug," but he was much more than that. I smiled as he materialized in my hand; no bigger than a ladybug, his azure shell shimmering in the sunlight.

"Persequor," I whispered, blowing gently.

As he fluttered toward the target, I reached out to Corbin.

"It's all yours carnificem."


Persequor- follow
carnificem- executioner

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