Metal hit stone in a series of clinking noises.

  “Pathetic!” Elenya called out beside him, voice still raspy from a night of drinking.

  On the other side of the room stood a cobbled together wooden dummy, and two meters to the right lay Wretch’s Blinking Blade. This was his hundredth attempt to throw the blade at the dummy in the training room of the Richter’s.

  At least, the blessed steel didn’t chip.

  “Let’s switch to some actual combat practice,” Elenya said while walking up and picking up the weapon, lacking some of the usual vigor from her alcoholic spree the night before.

  Over the past months, Wretch’s movement had improved by leaps and bounds, building on the mobility he had honed as a thief. But offense was his weakness.

  Elenya threw him his weapon and he caught it with his human hand, shooting her a questioning gaze.

  “You want me to attack you with an actual blade?”

  “It’s fine.” She said with a yawn. “You won’t land a hit, even with a hangover.”

  She nodded towards the ceiling while limbering her shoulders. "And if you outdo yourself. Astrid is one floor above.”

  “There is a mission-briefing tonight. Captain won’t be happy when I cut off your fingers,” Wretch said, twirling the weapon around his tiny frame before settling into a fighting stance.

  “Bring it with every dirty trick you have,” Elenya said, picking up a wooden sword in contrast with the metallic sheen of his own.

  He lunged.

  The thrust was fast, but Elenya parried easily, launching into a flurry of strikes. They traded blows back and forth in a fluid rhythm. Strikes, parries and dodges in rapid succession.

  Wretch suddenly stepped back, and flung the blade towards Elenya. Weapon still shooting through the air, he charged at her with razor sharp claws.

  She swatted the blade out of the air, but he'd closed the gap.

  His claw swept towards her neck and for a split second, she carried a look of surprise. She twisted her neck, dodging by a hair and retreating two steps.

  He pressed on, keeping uncomfortably close to her large frame, giving no opportunity to strike back at him as he reached with his claw.

  An unorthodox horizontal cut forced Wretch low. He ducked ready to swipe at her shin. Surprised when that very shin came speeding towards his face.

  He rolled with the impact, tumbling backwards and up to his feet a few paces away from her.

  They both paused, his breath was heavy, and so was Elenya’s.

  The Blinking Blade lay on the stone behind her.

  He flashed a crude smile and held both hands behind his back. She waved a finger for him to attack.

  He dashed. Sprinting towards her with both hands hidden.

  She aimed low, sweeping her wooden sword towards his legs. He threw himself upwards in a spin with fiery eyes, jumping high and twisting mid-air.

  Both of his hands shot forward. But only one held a sword, his clawed left hand. The Blinking Blade was barely fully materialized as he came down in vertical strike towards her collarbone with his full weight.

  Elenya stepped close.

  Her hand shot out and caught his wrist, stopping the swing with ease.

  The world blurred as he accelerated.

  “It was a good try,” he thought as Elenya threw him towards the ground.

  He hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of him. His elbows hurt, but she hadn’t thrown him as hard as she could, or he’d be unconscious.

  “Bastard, she went easy on—” a foot slammed into his chest, sending him flying into the nearest wall with a crash.

  His ears rang and his chest pulsed with hurt.

  “Don’t jump around too much. You can’t move while in the air.” Elenya said, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. “But that was good, little-guy, you’re almost not dead weight anymore.”

  Wretch coughed.

  “I almost had you,” he said between rattling breaths.

  “Ohh, but I was holding back,” she said.

  He staggered to his feet and flushed his internal damage away with his own painful regeneration.

  “Again,” he said.

  A malevolent grin spread on her face “You are catching on. So let’s turn it up a notch!”

  Her pupils turned to fire and blood-red shades spread from her core onto the exposed skin of her arms and neck. She took an aggressive posture, much different from the lax stance she used to have. Her second blessed gift, Fire for Power, backed up her impeccable fighting style with inhuman strength and speed.

  “That lost father of yours told you to grow stronger, right?” she said slowly. “So come at me.”

  Wretch gritted his teeth. This was going to hurt, and probably a lot.

  Then he lunged.

  Edmund walked up the stairs into the common-room of the Richter’s. It was raining outside and a soft patter came from the balcony door. He removed his wet coat and hat, looking over the room.

  Wretch was reading the newspaper on the sofa with the cat Whisky snuggling on his lap. It was great for practicing his reading and he was learning more about the city and the outer strongholds by the day.

  “Hey kid, I just got the briefing from the Bureau. Where are the others?”

  Wretch lowered his newspaper to look at his captain. His face was bruised, discolored bluish-black, one eye swollen shut.

  Edmund stared at him. “By the Saint… did you get hit by a train?”

  Wretch shook his head.

  “Elenya started training me with her actual blessings, she’s a harsh teacher,” Wretch answered, his voice rougher than usual from the swelling.

  “I can tell, kid. Can’t you use your flame or ask Astrid to fix you up?”

  “I’m almost empty after training and Astrid is at her parent’s house on the upper levels.”

  The captain sat down on the sofa and Whisky got up from Wretch’s lap to meet him.

  “How’s the body changes coming along?”

  “So far it’s only my ears, nose, bones and one hand. I can’t turn it back you know, and it decreases my pool of flame a little,” Wretch said.

  Edmund nodded as the cat snuggled against his neck.

  “Don’t want to turn into a monster, I get that. There is plenty you can improve without it.” He said.

  Later in the afternoon, Wretch had gathered enough flame to restore his face, and he joined the twins in preparing dinner. Roasted potatoes, fish and canned vegetables that smelled heavenly to Wretch’s improved senses. The entire crew had gathered and Elenya looked more like herself, even if Astrid shot her a stern gaze now and then.

  “Something big is coming,” Edmund said as Wretch dived headfirst into the food, he winced as Jonna elbowed him in the side.

  “Eat slower Wretchy,” she scolded him.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled through a mouthful of canned peas.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Outside, the rain had turned into a storm, whipping against the windows.

  “Shasmara,” Edmund said. “A walking calamity, a threat to the city itself.”

  Wretch froze as the captain continued.

  “The Bureau says it's moving after decades on the northeastern-coast. If it comes, the Saint and her hands, Gustavius the Lion and Maria the Impaler, will fight it. Every other Blessed will protect the city however we can.”

  “Shasmara…” Wretch mumbled. He stood up, rattling the plates and darted to his room.

  “Told you he was a scaredy-cat,” Jenni told her sister.

  Wretch returned to the questioning gazes of the group, something hidden behind his back.

  “I haven’t been entirely honest. The man I am looking for did leave me something.”

  He revealed the old tome filled with horrors.

  “He left me this, and a message.”

  “A book?” Elenya said as he cracked it open, flipping through the pages, “I thought you couldn’t read?”

  “I couldn’t at first. It's filled with different horrors and beasts. I wasn’t entirely sure they were real.”

  He stopped suddenly, turning the pages around.

  “Look!”

  Bold characters of black ink marked the top of the page.

  "Shasmara the Storm Cadaver."

  Below was an illustration of something disturbing, the black ink reflecting some of the candle-light. An amalgamation of rotten sea creatures, heads from deep sea behemoths protruded from the uneven core. Twisted and broken crab-like legs supporting a bulbous body. The thing stood in the flooded wreckage of a city, mist covering some of its swollen and irregular body. It looked more like a walking graveyard of the sea than anything alive.

  The twins looked at it with wide eyes.

  “You’re going to fight that?” one of them asked.

  “No,” Edmund said, placing a gentle hand on each of their shoulders. “ We’ll just make sure no pests sneak in while the Saint handles it.”

  Whisky was struggling to reach for the fish on the table with his claws, but Elenya held the cat in an iron grip.

  "For a book, its cool."

  “Your father gave that to you?” Astrid asked, eyes glued to the pages.

  “He did, I know every page by heart. I was afraid you’d take it away, but I’ve grown to trust you.” Wretch said.

  “Its a Compendium of the Hunt, ” Edmund answered.

  They all turned towards him.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” He said with raised hands. “I didn’t know they actually existed.”

  “I have never heard of it,” Astrid spoke up while nudging at her glasses.

  “A hunter I met long ago swore that the Bureau produced them in secret.” Edmund replied.

  Astrid stood up suddenly.

  “Let me see it!” She said with gleaming eyes behind her spectacles.

  “Just be careful.” Wretch said.

  Astrid grabbed it as if it were holy, flipping through the pages with the utmost care.

  Elenya chuckled.

  “Guess your dad really was a hunter then, at least a Blaze if he got his hands on something like that.”

  “Don’t go around showing that, we are not supposed to have it, Jonna and Jenni!” Edmund said as he turned to them. The twins, seated next to Wretch, had brown blondish hair that went straight to just beyond their shoulders. Both gazed at their father with eyes as big as plates.

  “This stays between us,” Edmund said with seriousness.

  “Okay!” they said in unison, nodding with excitement.

  Edmund cleared his throat. “As I was saying, we are to ensure safety around Partisan square outside the Inner Gate. Hunters and officers with a higher blessed rank will guard the spires.”

  “And the pay?” Wretch asked, standing next to Astrid. “I have a mountain of debt.”

  “Thirty-five pounds, and any loot if we come across an enemy.” The captain answered with a tug at the edge of his mouth.

  Astrid paused as she flipped through the pages, eyes narrowing.

  “Might not be so unlikely, says here that Shasmara the Storm Cadaver has been seen producing Blessed horrors. Though its other blessings are unknown. Also—”

  She tapped the inked page.

  “Avoid at all cost.”

  “Finally,” Elenya whispered to the cat, holding him up until their noses touched. “Something fun is about to happen.”

  Whisky only meowed in protest.

  “Elenya, draw a circle of ash on the front door.” Edmund said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Wretch nodded. “It's to ward off the horrors. Show them there is no flame inside, Haven’t you been to the slums?”

  Elenya held up one of Whisky’s paws and moved it close to the cat’s face in a salute-like stance. “Aye-aye captain,” she said in a childish voice. Producing giggles from the twins and an irritated look from Edmund.

  “Is this the message?” Astrid asked out loud, letting her fingers brush over the first page of the tome. “It’s quite raw…”

  Elenya leaned over the table, cat still in hand.

  “What does it say?”

  Wretch clutched his hands together, one clawed, the other human. He spoke more like a whisper, barely audible over the pattering rain.

  “Grow thy flame and meet me at the summit. What remains of you, I shall call kin.”

  It was quiet.

  The other hunters just looked at him as if they had uncovered some truth in his character.

  Finally Edmund spoke. “Kid,” he said. “That is not something you tell a child, whatever he is or was. You’d do best to find your own path in this world.”

  Elenya scoffed and finally let the cat run off.

  “Seems clear to me, he’s some high tier hunter, just ascend further and you’ll know, right?”

  Astrid was staring at the message written in ink at the first page.

  She drew a finger along the margin of the first page.

  “Looks like there’s an imprint, barely visible," she said.

  Wretch got close and followed her gaze.

  She was right, just at the bottom of the page, so faint as to only be visible in the perfect angle, something he’d never noticed, which wasn’t so strange, he had only learnt to read a few weeks ago.

  “Someone must have erased it!” One twin chimed in.

  Astrid blew out one candle and all the Richter’s leaned over. She rubbed the wick of the candle between her fingers and drew the soot over the imprint.

  “It’s probably gibberish,” Elenya said, leaning back as the wind rattled the windows.

  White lines appeared in the black soot and with a crack, a flash of lightning lit the room. The letters were clear to all of them.

  *DON'T LISTEN.*

  Written hastily, devoid of elegance. Much unlike the black ink handwriting of his father’s above it.

  “What?” Wretch whispered.

  Edmund shook his head. “Close that book…”

  Then, chimes began.

  Not the even, melodic bells that marked the hour. These were frantic. Starting from the top of the spire, then spread downwards. Tower by tower. Ending in a wild chorus of tolling bells.

  Edmund looked to the window, the outside obscured by the furious storm.

  “Curfew,” Edmund said, grabbing his shoulder and forcing them to meet eyes.

  “Put that book and its mysteries out of your mind,” Edmund said, voice low. “Focus on what’s ahead. We’re to be ready at Partisan square by midday. We leave at first light. Prepare your gear, get some sleep. Tomorrow might be a long day.”

  “And kid.” He said in a tone of unusual harshness.

  Wretch jolted alert.

  “Put this to the side, you are a hunter foremost, the city needs you. I need you.”

  Wretch swallowed hard.

  “Yes captain.”

  After readying their equipment, they went to their respective rooms. Wretch took a long shower and laid in his bed with the lights off, thinking about the leather-bound book. He hadn’t known it was special, nor that it might have belonged to a powerful Blessed. There seemed to be an entire world beneath the surface of the city. Filled with hunters and horrors.

  Still, he smiled in the dark:

  Even if it’s just a little…I am getting closer. Closer to the summit.

  He looked inwards to the information always available.

  Wretch, The Rat-Eater

  Ember

  Times Kindled: 3

  Regeneration: Consume flame to restore broken flesh. Purging rot and poison. Greater wounds demand greater cost.

  Flesh Stealer: Consume flame to reshape the body and take the form of any blessed you have slain and devoured, the change can be overwritten only by a new shape. Each change decreases your maximum flame permanently.

  He counted the ranks he knew.

  “Ember, like me, Astrid and Elenya,” he said in a hushed tone surrounded by the dark.

  “Fireling, like Edmund.”

  “Then Blaze.”

  “Then Pyre as described in the Compendium of the Hunt."

  “And then there is more, somewhere high above, where you are waiting for me."

  But who left that message?

  “Dont listen… to what?

  He fell asleep to the sound of the rain pattering against his window. The storm was growing, it ushered something closer, and in the alleys of Nov Yanosk, masked figures moved under the cover of rain. Wretch however, was none the wiser.