Chapter 1.1 The Huntsman's Hour

"To understand the worth of an Emperor is to better realize the weight of the crown which he wields upon his head. Caleb the Cowardly, the first to bear his name, and ninety-ninth son born from the blood of Caedus the Conqueror., worked tirelessly to mend the fractures made from the brutality of the Regulus Rebellion, where a hundred magicians led by the renegade magician Simon Regulus stood against the might of his father, the late Conan the Cruel, whose reign abruptly ended from a lethal illness. While his rule was reviled by nobles who have sworn fealty to House Firacqua as he bent the knee to the Northern Kingdoms wanting to gain their independence from the Dynasty, he did made reforms that ensured peace and prosperity for the realm. Nevertheless, it did not stop the resurgence of bandit groups gaining power in secret from dark corners of the Scarlet Empire."

Diane Von Dyrantæ, "2,000 Years of Irune"

The forest was red like autumn, bright like a raging fire. Callisto shook violently as he felt his father, who was carrying him before him on the saddle, abruptly spurn his steed. And they were treading through the fire, father and son, endlessly being chased by a devastating beast of flame scorching through the forest in search of them. The heat of its roar was too severe that it nearly seared his skin. Fear took hold of his poor little throat, choking him down to the deep.

"Hold on!" His father called him. "Hold on, Callisto!"

The horse stopped in its tracks and neighed terribly. And then he saw them. Fiends, tall mysterious figures, who wore the flame like a cloak upon their shoulders, blocking their escape. And in their hands were swords. Callisto looked to his father, whose other hand was struggling to keep the rifle in his hand.

"Close your eyes, Callisto!" His father ordered him. "Let us pass, damn you!"

Callisto did as he was told and buried his eyes in the darkness of his palm. Suddenly, he heard loud gunshots right beside him. Followed by the incessant songs made of steel. It was terrible, it was painful to hear. The heat of the flame was getting near, and it was unbearable against his skin. Callisto screamed through the noise, wanting no more of the chaos.

It hurts! Papa, please make them go away! Callisto thought through his tears. It hurts! My ears hurt! I don't want to see or hear them again!

Then the noises stopped, wherein his father carried him by his hands and the horse continued its journey. Callisto kept his eyes shut. Papa hadn't told me to open them yet. But he heard them, he heard the fire call to him in a soft voice.

"Join us," said a voice inside the flame. "Join our hunt against the Known World!"

"The Everflame. The Avenger of the Old Ones." Said another. "You belong to us. You are one of us!"

"Learn the thrill of the hunt!" They all chanted in unison. "You belong with us, O Child of Flame and Chaos! Your place is with us!"

Callisto kept his grip on his father. "No! I don't want to join you! You're nothing but ghosts! Ghosts! Papa, make them stop! Please!" He wept.

Suddenly, Callisto heard the wind cut to the quick and the horse yelped horribly. Something warm and liquid stained his face. He tasted it with his mouth, it was salty and then he knew what it was. Blood. At once, the horse fell and the father and son fell with it.

Callisto could barely process what just happened before his father dragged him back into his feet. His father stared deep into his eyes, a silent fury filled the violet jewels within them.

"Callisto, the river… the river is just beyond the pass." He told his son. "Cut through the woods and don't look back. I will try to hold them off, but you have to run. Do you understand me?"

Callisto immediately shook his head upon hearing it. "No! No! I don't want to leave you! Please don't leave me alone!"

"Cal, listen to me!" His father yelled at him. "I can't run. My leg is crushed under the horse. Even if I get out of here, I can't run! You can but you have to go without me, do you understand?"

"I don't care, I can carry you! I can't leave you here! You promised me we will go together!" Callisto insisted, tears began to drip from his golden red eyes.

His father held him tightly against his arms, kissing him on the forehead. "Cal, you're all that matters now. If you die here with me, I'm only turning my back on the promise I made to your mother. Now run, run like your life depended on it. And don't look back. Not at me. Not to anyone ever. Just keep moving. Find the College of Saint Lilibeth. Find my brother Nicholas. You'll recognize him. He looks just like me, but older and uglier. You got that?"

He looked his son in the eye one more time. Callisto slowly nodded as he understood his mission. His father reloaded the rifle and made his last stand against the approaching flame. The fire roared once more, and Callisto began his escape through the forest.

"I love you, Cal! Do you hear me?! Stay alive!" His father bellowed from a distance, followed by another series of gunshots for a fleeting moment before it fell silent again.

Callisto fought back his tears and kept running. They… killed him. How could they? Murderers! Ghosts!

The forest cackled upon him as the fire raged through the brittle wood. But Callisto paid no heed to their incessant mockery. He had only one thing in his mind that kept him going. The river, he thought. The river must be close by!

"We may be ghosts, Everflame, but even we know that your destiny is an even greater monster. You cannot run from it, it's inescapable! Just accept your ultimate fate, just as we will accept you!"

The fire cloaks began to catch up to him, spouting nonsense as they flew, but he was running too fast for them to catch up. Almost as if he was possessed by the adrenaline building up inside him. Then he heard something. Something that gave him hope. It was water. Water from the river. I hear it! It's close! It was so close, he reached out his hand to touch it just as the fire itself reached out their own claws for his neck and…

Callisto Armitage woke up in a fright amidst a puddle of his own sweat, his body lay numb against the seat. He sat up and felt the numb throbbing still lingering in his head. He cursed as he set his sight upon the train window.

From the horizon was the Calypses Canyon, a rugged canyon filled with countless hills of all heights and sizes. At the center of it all was a massive tree that overshadowed the rest of its peers, engulfing the surrounding hills with vines and countless shrubbery.

Seeing it in its lush splendor, Callisto noticed just how beautiful it was compared to how he was taught about it back at the College. All those lectures and ancient texts could not compare to actually seeing it for the first time.

Suddenly, Callisto heard a loud horn from the engine. Soon after, the train began to slow down. Callisto took it as a sign that the train will be stopping at his destination. As quickly as he could manage, he gathered his items scattered around the table and carefully placed them on his briefcase.

Among the equipment that lay on the table was his pocket watch, the honorary badge of the Crownless Company. Upon the hexagonal-shaped crest of gold lies an emblem of a black crown torn in half by a silver sword. He picked it up and hid it deep into his coat pocket. On the seat next to him was his sword, a tall and gaunt silver beauty, adorned in an ebony black scabbard coated with jewels.

At once, Callisto stepped out of the train and onto an empty platform. Well, not completely empty, he thought when he saw a well-dressed villager sitting at the nearby benches. Like he was expecting him, the man stood tall and prestigiously at the mere glance of him.

"You're the Huntsman?" He spoke.

"You called for my services, aye?" Callisto smirked, presenting the pocket watch from his cloak to the villager for identification. "How far is Regalia?"

"Close by," said the villager. "The Cardinal has been waiting for you, Huntsman."

The Crownless Company was an independent guild of mercenaries that relied solely on the capture and extermination of any known bandit groups that assumed power over the unprotected countryside of the Empire's territories. Its members were known to the local populace as the Huntsmen. As per their oath, they were to remain neutral in their duty, for their work should not be hindered by pointless allegiances and petty politics.

With a worn-down carriage, the duo tread their way through the woods to the nearby town of Regalia. When the thick fog dispersed, the first thing the young Huntsman saw was a giant wall made of black stone. It towered over all of the trees of the wood, with no way of getting through except for a small gate at the end of the dirt road.

"Who goes there?" said a guard from above the wall.

"It's me! Franko!" The villager called out to him. "I brought the Huntsman."

The guards took a closer inspection on Callisto. Their vigilant eyes stared ravenously on him, as their gaze was filled with suspicion and intrigue. “Show us your proof of your profession,” he simply said. “We’ve had our fair share of fools and imposters already.”

Callisto scanned his pockets and pulled out his watch for them to see. It shone under the light of the sky, and it was all the proof the guards needed. They simply nodded and yelled out to the fellow guards, “Open the gates!”

And so, the gate opened with a terrible screech as it pushed forth a path for Callisto and the villager to gallop through. After passing through the canal, Callisto saw with his own two eyes the town of Regalia. It was a large town full of brick houses and chattering townsfolk. Fresh on the local market were a few heaps of vegetables and fruit all lined up for sale while livestock ran freely upon the muddy road. There was a concerning lack of children running amok, and people were looking at him with such sleeplessness and disdain in their eyes. It must be the cause of the recent disappearances lately, Callisto thought. Most of the victims were children. And soon in front of him was the town hall. And at the entrance was the Magistrate of Regalia, Lord Rian.

“Thirteen children are missing,” Lord Rian reported. “That and our farms have become nothing more but a decaying heath. A few of my men walked into the woods to search and investigate, but now there’s barely any word from them in two days.”

Callisto held onto every word. He sat amongst a table with the Magistrate’s close advisors. The atmosphere was dreadfully tense as it was cold, but the Huntsman paid it no heed.

"And you have a slight suspicion of whom it might be?" Callisto asked the table of advisors, though each of them were too hesitant to say a word.

"It must be the work of a witch. Mangkukulam, as we called it in legend." The elderly one among them spoke. "A hag who dwells in the Canyon. A shaman who embraced the terrible arts of dark magic. She who steals children through lullabies, so she can dissect them apart for her potions..."

"Lord Grayson, you're at it again with these superstitions." Lord Rian refuted him. "There's no such things as a mangkukulam roaming these forests. It's probably a magician turned bandit, using these supposed myths as a ruse to conceal their true intentions. This is why we asked for a Huntsman from the Company."

"Then I don't suppose you could explain why a priestess is sitting outside our door at this very moment." Lord Terrence, the man with the bushy eyebrows retorted next. "She came to our very town on the notion that something ancient in nature has gripped these woods as of late. Maybe Lord Grayson might be onto something and so is that priestess."

"That priestess might be just another con artist waiting for the right moment to run off with our money." Lord Rian replied. "I mean look at her. She looks far too young to be a priestess and if you ask me, she's more of a witch than this supposed ancient lurking in the Canyon."

"I could say the same to this Huntsman of yours." Said Lord Banner, the man with the lousy haircut. "What the hell is Nicholas thinking sending a... child into this nonsense. If two of my best hunters couldn't bring home even a strand of their own hair, what chance does he have?"

"Oh please. You people delight me. All this bickering, it's no wonder there's not a single progress done in your little witch problem." Callisto sighed, rubbing his fingers against his forehead. "Regardless of your thoughts about me, I will begin my investigation tomorrow morning on the canyon sharp. If I don't come back... well, you know how it goes. But I'm a Huntsman, I swore that I will not feign defeat. I will find this witch and bring upon this table her head. Will that do, Lord Rian?"

Lord Rian, surprised by the novice's calm demeanor, took a relaxed back against his chair. "This boy has a point. We've been arguing for too long these past two weeks instead of doing something about it. Sir Nicholas Armitage was wise to choose you. You certainly took his mannerisms. Almost too well. Anyway, we shall make preparations for your jouney tomorrow. Is there anything else you would like to do, Callisto Armitage?"

"I do." Callisto replied. "You mentioned a priestess coming here with a similar reason. I would like to meet her myself."

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