The Hunter, Story 1

A sudden cold fell over the small town, a cold signalling the strangers arrival. He marched the gravel road that lay in the center of the town, the steady crunch of the road under his heavy boots drew attention. Many glanced at the stranger and quickly averted their gaze or scurried back inside their homes. He took no notice of the commotion he was causing and continued intently. He was dressed most peculiarly, a grey cloak hung loosely over his broad shoulders, reaching his ankles. Under the cloak a white top that closer resembled armor than any shirt commonly seen. There was nothing unordinary about his pants, however, the belt that accompanied them also supported a scabbard by his side, a small silver colored hilt extruding from the top. He advanced further into the town, seemingly dragging the cold air with him. He came to an abrupt stop, having reached his goal. He entered the bar, full of life at this time of night and took a seat in an open booth.

“May I get you anything to drink, sir?” A waitress approached.

“No, thanks.” The stranger responded, his voice was rough yet soothing.

“Well sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, we are going to fill up soon and need this booth for customers.” The stranger looked up, right eye was covered with an intricate piece of silver. The iris of his left eye shone an unnatural pale blue. “I am expecting someone.” He told the waitress, now growing impatient.

“Are they gonna order anything?” She asked him, doubtfully.

“Probably not, but this is a good place for a meeting.”

“Then we still need you to leave, sir.” When the stranger didn't budge and stayed silent, she stomped off to the kitchen, no doubt branding it as a lost cause. About 2 minutes passed before another approached his table. 3 men, 2 of which were so drunk they could barely walk a straight line, the remaining one who could form a coherent sentence spoke.

“When a lady asks you to *hic* move, move!” His words came out as more of a drunken yell than any conversational tone.

“I'm just here to meet someone, please leave.” The stranger replied calmly.

“Not so *hic* easily. We still gotta teach you a lesson.” A dark smile appeared on the drunk's face. “Now move *hic* your bum, before we move it for you!” A small grin crept onto the strangers lips. “What you are about to do.” He spoke, facing them, “I highly suggest you don’t do it.” Now rising from the cushioned bench he had been sat on.

The drunks threw the first punch, the stranger effortlessly sidestepped his fist and then grabbed it. Tugging his arm, the stranger guided the first drunk’s head into the edge of the table, the drunk promptly collapsed. He slid back, dodging another attack and forcefully kicked the remaining 2, they staggered into another customer. She shoved them away, attracting more attention to the ongoing brawl, which was now evolving into an entire barfight. The stranger picked up his scabbard and fastened it again to the side of his belt. Careful to avoid the passed out drunk at his feet he made his way to the exit.

A local volunteer for the police force of the small town greeted the stranger on horseback as he exited the bar, in which complete chaos had erupted. Trotting up to him, the police volunteer was clearly suspicious of his appearance.

“What is your name?” The volunteer asked, his name tag read, ‘Officer Hudson’.

“It's Flynn if you must know, but that isn't important, I'm looking for someone.” Flynn responded.

“Surname?” Officer Hudson questioned, disregarding the last half of what he said.

“Don't have one, now do you know of any Mr. Collins?” Flynn persisted.

“Of course, he’s the assistant to the mayor, what do you want from him?” Officer Hudson looked nervous speaking to Flynn.

“I need to see him, where is he?”

“Town hall, you're coming with me though. I’ll take you to him.” Officer Hudson yanked on the horse’s straps and it began trotting down the street, Flynn hesitated for a second but reluctantly followed. As they were walking away, a window of the bar shattered, caused by the ongoing barfight, no doubt. As they made their way toward the other end of town, led by the horse, locals glanced in their direction. Still clearly unsettled by Flynn’s attire, but assured by the police officer accompanying him.

“What is it you need from Collins anyway?” Hudson asked, turning to face Flynn from his horse.

“I don’t need anything from him, he requires my assistance.”

“With what, Collins is a stubborn one. He wouldn't ask for help if it were the end of the world.” Hudson said with equal parts amusement and doubt in his voice.

“It concerns the fires that have been going on around this town.” Flynn added, A perplexed look crossed Hudson’s face, soon replaced with a grim scowl.

“I don’t know what you plan to do, our entire fire patrol is trying to stop them right now. 2 brave ones have already lost their lives. I don't know what you would plan to do with it, unless you think pissing on it will make it stop.” Hudson’s tone was aggressive, clearly the topic hit very close to home for him.

“That is between me and Mr. Collins.” Flynn responded, “and if i'm not mistaken, that there is the town hall.” Officer hudson dismounted and tightly squeezed Flynns arm, dragging him into the office, when they arrived he pushed him into the room.

“Wait here, i’ll go get Collins.” The door slammed shut. Approximately 10 minutes later a stout man entered the room, he had short grey hair, and what could only be described as; a very punchable face. He wore a grim expression, once he entered the room he paced over to his desk and plopped down into his cushioned chair. Papers, pens, and probably important documents lay scattered across his desk, drawers lay open too.

“My, my Flynn, a bar fight? You sure know how to get someone's attention, eh.”

“Would’ve been fine if you had shown up, what happened there?”

“I would never show my face in those parts!” He began to fiddle with a pencil that was laying on his desk.

“What, did you start one to many bar fights too?” Flynn lowered himself into a collapsible metal chair, facing Collins. As Collins considered his response Flynn took note of his movements, he was anxious, there was a twitch in his movements that Flynn had not seen before. As the silence between them grew longer Flynn decided to ask about the reason he had been summoned here.

“What do you want, you said something about the fires.”

“Oh yes, the fires, I believe they aren't mere fires. Firefighters are not suited to deal with these, especially the volunteers from this place. Something about these fires makes me believe that it's more your area of expertise.” He stood and gazed out the window, a far away look on his face.

“What about these fires makes you think they aren't natural, how could I help?”

“Have you ever seen someone perish in a fire Flynn?” He slowly returned his attention to the conversation. “Fires are not new to this area. They have been plaguing us for years, people have lost property, animals and even family members to them. I have seen the aftermath, I know what they look like. Cottages caved in, a heap of charred planks. Fields of grass turned to tundras of ashen dirt. Trees, missing leaves and threatening to fall. But worst of all, the people that don't make it. It's an awful sight to see, A shriveled body, with boiling skin and exposed muscles. I have had to see it, Flynn. I had to be there, it was terrible. But it’s due to this that I can tell you what's happening isn't normal, what is happening right now is extraordinary in the worst way possible.” He paused to let out a deep sigh, his head sunk and he looked depressingly at the floor. “I'm out of options Flynn, my only answer for these fires is that one of your kind is to blame. From what I’ve heard, you're the person to call about rogues.” Flynn grimaced and leaned in.

“Before I will do anything, how do you know about… everything?”

“A traveler showed me many years back, he told me he needed to talk about something important, I directed him to the mayor, but he refused and pleaded that I should hear him. Naturally I lent him an ear. He didn't just tell me, but showed me. The truth about you ghosts, they all came from a spirit world he said, each infused with a different ability, the abilities he demonstrated were magic and bordered on godhood. Your name came up when my anxious mind asked how anyone could stop these beings.” Collins picked up a cigarette and started smoking, a triumphant look on his face. Flynn laughed, and Collins’ expression turned confused.

“I’m afraid you’ve been lied to, my dear Collins. Since there is no purpose obscuring this from you, allow me to tell you what is really happening. While some call us ghosts, we aren’t. It's a translating error, really. Ghost isn’t the only name for us, throughout the generations we’ve been dubbed elders, deity’s, gods, immortals and ghosts. We don't come from any spirit world, but what this traveler of yours said about the abilities is true, for the most part. Each one of us is born with a certain way our power manifests itself. Here I suppose you would call them primitive elements. I happen to be born of the power of ice, and I am here, on terra minima or as you call it, “earth” to hunt elders who have escaped here and use their powers to wreak havoc upon this place.”

“Terra minima.” Collins repeated. “Latin if i'm not mistaken, for small earth.”

“You're lucky you're the first.” Flynn scoffed. “Terra minima 12 doesnt even have a hunter such as myself.”

“Whatever the truth may be, and i'm not quite convinced…” Flynn cut him off mid sentence with a hand motion, a glass of water on Collins’ table suddenly tipped over, a solid brick of ice slipped out and hit the hardwood floor with a thud. “Whatever the matter,” He continued, doing a very poor job of masking his shock. “I believe these recent fires are not an accident. I believe one of your elders is to blame.”

“What makes you think that?” Flynn raised his eyebrow, interested in what Collins' reasoning was.

“As I said before, I know what a natural fire looks like. Enough to know this isn't it. Houses have been burned to the ground, the wood itself becoming ash within minutes. Trees have been set ablaze and completely disappear before people's eyes. But most curiously, a cabin in the very center of town burned down recently, the fire didn't spread, nothing else was harmed, and it happened mere 5 minutes after the residents had left to fetch some groceries. Simultaneously, a fire started 4 miles east of the first cabin. In this fire, nothing was hurt. According to the person that lives inside, he heard screaming in the basement. A fire had started around his wife. Upon investigation, the fire hadn't left anything but a faded burn mark on the concrete walls. But the corpse was unlike anything the doctors at the morgue had seen before. The skin was charred and black. Autopsy shows she didn't pass out from smoke inhalation as it usually goes. She simply immediately burned to death. The fire had to be nearing the temperature of molten magma if that happened. You can ask the husband what he saw, officer Hudson, although I believe you two have met.” Flynn nodded understandingly.

“It certainly sounds like an elder could be responsible. I just need a little more to be convinced, where was the fire last seen, or any place that hasn't been fixed or covered up yet?”

“A small shack behind this building, and a tree only about 200 feet from there.”

“Thanks, i’ll check it out.” Flynn stood up and began to leave.

“Wait a minute Flynn!” Collins called after him. Flynn slowly turned on his heel to face Collins again. “I assume its protocol to capture them, not kill.”

“That would be correct.” Flynn answered.

“Well in that case, i’ll pay you to kill him.” A sudden anger rose up in Collins’ eyes, Flynn raised his eyebrows, surprised. “It's the least he deserves, this son of a bitch killed my daughter! I don't intend to let him get off easy.” Flynn nodded slowly. Without saying a word Flynn exited the office, leaving Collins to his cigarette.

As Collins had told him the house was situated directly behind the town hall, although calling it a house wasn't exactly accurate, it more closely resembled a heap of ash. The occasional butt of a plank stuck through the grey coals. Flynn examined it more closely, he had seen many sites that were a victim of a rogue fire elder. Being ice, they were his antithesis, his primal enemy. He was more inclined to hunt them because of this fact. The scene before him, he could tell, was the result of an attack, it looked identical to his previous ones. Footsteps approached on the road to Flynn’s left.

“Hey, sir!” Flynn called out, the pedestrian turned to look at him.

“Yeah, what do ye want, huh?” He had a rather grumpy disposition. Flynn interrupted his search through the ash to approach the man.

“Do you know the owner of this home?” Flynn asked.

“Of course I do, they moved in with dat old bar owner, der was a fight or somethin’ there yesterday.” Flynn sighed and rolled his eyes. He wasn't eager to return, but he thought he might order something to drink this time. He would wait until the next day, reserving a room at a local hotel located only 60 paces from the bar.

“Oh no, not you, no way, OUT!” The bartender yelled at him as he approached the bar.

“I would just like to speak to the owner of this place.” He replied calmly.

“What, you gonna start a brawl with him!”

“That brawl, I assure you I didn't start it.”

“Say I believe you, what do you want with the owner.” The bartender said quietly, leaning over the bar and getting in Flynn’s face.

“I need to speak to the people whose home burned down, I hear the owner of this bar is tending to them.”

“And what's it to you?”

“I'm on private business, tasked by the mayor.” The bartender raised an eyebrow and disappeared into the back end of the restaurant. Soon, a man wearing a vest and black trousers appeared behind the bar and stepped forward to greet Flynn, extending his hand.

“Edwards, Doctor Edwards.” He held himself straight and formal.

“Flynn, I assume you're the owner of this bar?”

“Yes, and I’m told you wanted to see Melissa and Emily. They are most likely asleep by now, tell me, what did you want to ask them.”

“Their house, the fire, what happened.” The owner gestured with his head to an empty table, Flynn followed him and took a seat.

“I don’t want to go into too many details, but I was over… visiting Melissa. All of a sudden Emily screams downstairs, Melissa rushed to look what was wrong. A blaze, right in the kitchen, stove wasn't even on, we all got out in time, but clearly the house didn’t.”

“When was the fire?”

“2 days ago, at about 8pm.” Flynn glanced at the clock on the opposite wall, 7 o’clock.

“And the fire before that, when did that one happen.” Flynn asked, Dr. Scott thought quietly to himself.

“I suppose that was 2 days before this fire, around 8 too.”

“And the fire before that?” Flynn was now speaking in a hurried tone.

“Well, that must have been 6 days ago, so 2 days before that fire. Come to think, it was also at 8.” Dr. Scott looked alarmed at Flynn sitting opposite him. “Oh god, this isn't natural is it, an arsonist. That's why the mayor hired you!”

“Something like that.” Flynn stood up. “Thank you for the information, I clearly must be going now. Not much time remains.” Dr. Scott nodded vigorously, looking very concerned. Flynn jogged back up to his hotel room, constantly checking every clock he passed. 7:15, 7:18, 7:22, 7:26. At 7:29 he burst through his door. He promptly shut his window and pulled the curtains across them. The door he slammed shut with a “do not disturb” sign hanging on the knob. He closed his eyes and listened. The room directly right of his clearly had 2 arguing children within. He marched over, ripped the door open,

“You guys need to shut up, now!”The wide eyed children blushed and nodded, flustered.

Flynn returned to his room, 7:35. He closed his eyes once again, this time he didn't hear anything, nothing to distract him. He sank to his knees, resting his palms on them. As he closed his left eye, what would have been his right eye pulsated. He concentrated, focusing on his control of ice, his power over cold. Soon, he was able to see everything around him, the entire town. He could sense and in a way, see every leftover patch of snow, every ice cube in every glass made cold by the cold liquid inside. He could model every single breeze of chilly wind. In his head, he constructed a map of the entire town, where there was cold and where there wasn’t a lot. He saw every house and every action anyone was taking, if what Collins had told him about the heat of these fires was true, it would be hard not to sense such an immense disturbance. He allowed himself to become distracted by conversations happening around town, a way to keep him occupied until 8. Soon it was 7:59, Flynn extended his senses again, allowing himself to observe everything. He expected something to happen the moment the clock stuck 8, but was surprised when nothing did. He dropped his guard slightly, and then it happened. A shock of heat so powerful Flynn’s eyes snapped open. He forced himself to close them again, focusing on pinpointing the location, once he did he opened his door. Then he paused, gesturing with his hand and closing his eyes once more, a bright white light suddenly filled the corridor, centered on Flynn. When he opened his eye again, he had accomplished exactly what he hoped. Guests in the hall stood perfectly still, mouths open and unblinking. He had done this before on several occasions, manipulated the power of cold, to freeze the very force of time itself. Now that he knew the location of the rogue he had much time to make his way, and set up a perfect attack. A common misconception about stopping the passage of time, you can not still move objects.

All movement requires any amount of time to move, when removing the time from that equation it's impossible for anything to budge in a world where time isn’t. Any item, even as small as a single blade of grass could sustain Flynns weight and never even bend. He made his way through the town, Working his way to the spot where he had sensed the flame. He strolled silently through the town. He passed Officer hudson, saddled on his horse, trotting the main road. He passed Dr. Scott, who was brandishing a fire extinguisher he recently purchased. He passed Collins, walking hand-in-hand with a woman who must have been his wife. The absence of any sound or motion always spooked Flynn, being the only being in a motionless world disturbed him. Possibly the only thing that would scare him more was a motion not his own, although that would be impossible. He reached the area where the fire had, and still did, burn. A small second floor apartment situated 3 blocks fore the end of the road. The blaze wasn’t hard to spot, a smoldering ball of flame about 4 feet tall. It was so hot that it should have sucked all the oxygen from the air around it. He found that any oxygen levels near the apartment were normal. The only thing that could power a fire such as the one before him was magical. A controlled burn like this would require at least visual contact, Flynn examined the surrounding area through the windows of the apartments. Concentrating on where the fire was visible from. He didn’t need to search long, across the backyard another home stood, in the bottom floor a man, his face masked in the shadow of his hood, two eyes glowed the hue of lava illuminating a thin set of lips. It must have only been Flynn’s imagination but the lips seemed to twist into a sinister grin. Flynn began to examine the rogue fire elder.

“No, it can't be.” Flynn stumbled back, the face in the window slowly disappeared, and the elder began to walk away in slow motion. His power of fire must have been concentrated in breaking through Flynn’s time freeze. This meant the fire behind Flynn would disappear once time resumed, the elders power was now focused elsewhere, clearly. Fueled by shock and determination, Flynn backed up and ran through the window. The lock he had held on time shattered in harmony with the window, Flynn gracefully rolled to cushion his fall. Not a second was wasted in taking up pursuit. He sprinted across the lawn and vaulted into the window where we had seen the rogue. He rushed through the door, and began to chase the elder again. Destroying every obstacle in his path. The Elder’s hood was blown off his head, revealing long black hair, Flynn was starting to shorten the distance in between himself and the rogue elder. The elder turned his head briefly to hurl a ball of fire at Flynn, which he quickly dispelled with a counterspell (As its known). In looking over his shoulder, the rogue stumbled and tripped on a rock. Flynn seized the opportunity, drawing his sword and performing a clockwise leaping spin. He did not expect his blade to be met with another, yet his strike collided with his opponent's sword. The rogue’s resembled a build of japanese culture while his was constructed more like a medieval short sword. Flynn expected his fighting style to match his choice of weaponry.

“Why’d you do it?” Flynn asked, backing up.

“Reminded me of home.” The elder stood up. His face was black as tar, his molten eyes the only light. His lips were thin and the color of cement, his nose blended in with the rest of his features. The visage was truly an intimidating sight to behold. While most elders sustained themselves on pure magical energy in place of oxygen, nutrients and water. This one seemed to be entirely magical energy, its body only created from willpower and control. No wonder such a being could resist a time freeze.

“Your home, not a nice place?” Flynn backed up, keeping his sword raised defensively.

“Oh it was wonderful, until some drunken band of wraiths decided to gift them some fire magic.”

“Wraiths?” Flynn didn’t recognize the term.

“I suppose you would call them deities or elders or something. But do you wanna know what this village did with the gift of pure fire energy. They gave it a conscious, me! They made the energy me! Of course since they created me, they acted like they owned me, just because they created me meant I was to serve them. Constantly being everyones bitch!” Flynn backed up, his opponent copied, subconsciously. They circled each other, slowly backed up, nearing 2 puddles on opposite ends. The Elder began to speak again. “I fled, how could I not. I ran somewhere where I could watch it all burn. Claim my birthright as an elemental warrior.”

“I was a warrior, before I became a hunter, fought in the 12th temerian war. Let me tell you something about warriors. Warriors kill with honor, they fight for a cause. You, on the other hand kill without reason, a murderer who wants nothing more than to watch people suffer.” As the elder’s eyes filled with a fiery rage, Flynn sprung his trap. The puddles now directly behind either of them suddenly froze, Flynn jumped back, allowing the power of ice to overtake him, briefly becoming ice himself. He jumped out of this condition through the other puddle, taking the Elder by surprise and making an arcing slash across the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. A glowing orange liquid gushed from the wound instead of blood. Flynn slid and caught up in the thrill pivoted on his heel, his outstretched sword mirrored the turn, severing the fire elder’s head with one clean cut. An audible thud sounded as the body fell to the ground, another one as the head impacted with the ground. Flynn stood back and watched as the body melted into the same orange goo, it must have been the magical energy, now with no will to bind it. Usually Flynn would need to collect the souls of the rogues he killed. But this apparition only succeeded in fulfilling one of the necessities of a being, namely mind, body and soul being the rest.

Flynn’s body did not require sleep, yet he decided to rest in his hotel room regardless. Collins Would not have any available time until later in the afternoon. Flynn took this opportunity to goof off a little bit, visit some places around the town. Namely the smiths ranch with “Worlds freshest milk.” And the famed “World's largest rubber band ball". People always treated him with caution and unease but he enjoyed himself, a rarity in his profession. Late afternoon soon arrived, Flynn leaned against the wall beside the door to Collins's office.

"Flynn!" Collins looked happy, a smile graced his face. "Good news, my friend?"

"Indeed, if taken care of your arsonist… permanently." Collins dug around in his pocket and tossed Flynn a key.

"I know I promised you money. But this key opens my safe, in the office. I'm sure you'll find it more valuable than any amount of money." Flynn debated arguing but his curiosity got the better of him. He nodded and silently opened the office door, scanning for the safe. He found it lying beneath the desk, unlocked it. Inside was a sword, same style as his own, unlike his own, a stone of power Levitated between the base of the blade and hilt, a ring surrounded it. The stone represented the power of ice, his element. The blade was pure ice energy. Holding it he felt more powerful, him energizing the sword and vice versa. He channeled his power into the sword, slowly tracing an arc in the air before him, the air itself froze at the swords touch, he caught the now sublimating dry ice. Sheathed the sword, left his in the safe, locking it again. He emerged from the office and tossed the key to Collins, who nodded understandingly. Flynn turned his back and walked out the door. He didn't say another word to anyone else in that town. Simply gathered his belongings and left, ready for the next journey.