Lord of the Foresaken
Chapter 45: HUNTERS AND HUNTED

Chapter 45: HUNTERS AND HUNTED

Prince Tarrant’s forces surged through the forest like a plague of armored locusts, their torches carving violent gashes of light through the darkness. Reed felt their approach through the merged fragment embedded in his palm—each rider a distinct pulse of malice against his newly awakened senses.

"We’re outnumbered," Kalia hissed, the moonlight reflecting off her elven features as she notched an arrow to her bowstring. "Fighting is suicide."

Reed nodded, his mind racing through possibilities that wouldn’t have occurred to him before the fragments merged. The violet crystal pulsated against his skin, suggesting strategies and avenues of power previously unimaginable.

"We don’t fight," he decided, the fragment’s energy coursing through his veins. "We disappear."

Reaching out with his consciousness, Reed touched the essence of the surrounding shadows, feeling their substance and weight in ways he never could before. The Warden aspect of his merged fragment had always allowed him to manipulate darkness, but the integration of Sovereign’s power amplified this ability beyond recognition.

"Everyone, to me," he commanded, extending his hand toward Shia. The connection between them vibrated with potential energy as their fingers touched.

Vex and Kalia joined the circle hesitantly, hands clasping as Reed reached out with his power. The shadows around them responded, not merely gathering but transforming—becoming thicker, more substantial, until they clung to the group like a second skin.

"What is this?" Vex whispered, her scarred face contorting with discomfort as darkness crept across her skin.

"Camouflage," Reed replied, his voice distorted by the power flowing through him. "The hunters cannot pursue what they cannot perceive."

The transformation completed just as the first of Tarrant’s outriders burst into their clearing. The soldiers paused, torches held high, scanning what appeared to be an abandoned campsite. Reed and his companions stood perfectly still, wrapped in a cocoon of manipulated shadow that bent light around them, rendering them not invisible but overlooked—present yet dismissed by the mind’s eye.

Through the veil of shadow, Reed observed their hunters. Prince Tarrant sat astride a midnight destrier whose nostrils flared red with each breath. The golden Monarch fragment gleamed from within his breastplate, pulsing like a second heartbeat. Beside him rode three figures, each radiating the distinctive energy signature of fragment bearers.

"Spread out," Tarrant commanded, his voice carrying the unnatural harmonics of one who had embraced his fragment’s influence. "They cannot have gone far. The ritual signature is still fresh."

The first of Tarrant’s fragment-wielding companions—a woman whose face was half-concealed by an ornate silver mask—dismounted, kneeling to press her palm against the ground where Reed and Shia’s fragments had merged. A green glow emanated from beneath her sleeve, casting sickly light across the forest floor.

"They’ve combined fragments," she announced, her voice a melodious hiss. "The energy pattern is... unprecedented. Two fragments merged into one."

Tarrant’s expression darkened, the Monarch fragment flaring in response to his anger. "Impossible. The fragments are designed to remain distinct. Each bearer, one fragment—that is the law."

"Nevertheless," the masked woman continued, "that is what has occurred. And the bearer—this Reed Nightblade—has developed abilities we cannot predict."

Reed felt Shia’s hand tighten around his, her mind touching his through their connection. They know about the merging. This changes everything.

Reed’s response flowed back through their link, not in words but understanding. Yes. We’ve altered the game’s rules. They fear what they don’t understand.

Tarrant signaled to his other companions—a hulking warrior whose skin seemed to shimmer with metallic hues, and a rail-thin figure whose gender was impossible to determine beneath voluminous robes. "Aspect of Hunter, begin tracking their essence trail. Aspect of Seer, extend your perception and find their minds."

The robed figure—apparently the Seer—raised skeletal hands toward the sky. Beneath the hood, pinpoints of silvery light glowed where eyes should be. Reed felt a probing sensation, like cold fingers sifting through his thoughts. The violet fragment pulsed in warning.

Shield your mind, he projected to his companions. The Seer searches for us.

Reed drew on the merged fragment’s power, envisioning a barrier not just around their bodies but their very consciousness. The probing sensation intensified, then suddenly withdrew as if burned.

The Seer staggered backward, a thin wail escaping from beneath the hood. "They’re... protected somehow. My sight cannot penetrate their shield."

Tarrant’s face contorted with rage. "Hunter! Track them by physical means then. No one can hide their footprints in mud, fragment or no fragment."

The metallic warrior—the Hunter—dismounted, his movements fluid despite his massive frame. He knelt where Reed and his companions had stood just minutes before, examining the ground with inhuman precision. His hands brushed the earth, fingers extending into slender metallic probes that dug into the soil.

"They went north," he announced, his voice resonating like metal striking metal. "Recently. The earth still holds their warmth."

Reed cursed internally. The shadow veil might hide them from sight, but it couldn’t eliminate all traces of their passage.

We need to move, Shia’s thoughts whispered across their connection. Now, while they’re distracted.

With the barest flicker of acknowledgment, Reed guided his companions backward, step by agonizing step, deeper into the forest’s embrace. The shadow veil moved with them, maintaining its protective cocoon as they retreated from Tarrant’s forces.

Once they’d put sufficient distance between themselves and their hunters, Reed released the shadow manipulation, allowing the darkness to return to its natural state. The effort left him drained, sweat beading his brow despite the night’s chill.

"We need to keep moving," he said, voice hoarse from the exertion of wielding such power. "They’ll track us by conventional means now."

"North is the direct route to Goblin’s Hollow," Kalia observed, her elven eyes scanning the darkness. "If the Hunter can truly track our direction—"

"Then we go east," Reed interrupted, a new plan forming in his mind. "Through the Venom Marshes. No tracker, no matter how skilled, can follow a trail through those waters."

Vex’s face paled beneath her scars. "The Venom Marshes? That’s suicide, Reed. The creatures there—"

"Are preferable to what Tarrant will do if he captures us," Reed finished grimly. "We move east. Now."

Dawn broke across the horizon like a wound reopening, spilling crimson light over the twisted landscape. The Venom Marshes stretched before them—a vast expanse of brackish water and gnarled vegetation that pulsed with malevolent life.

Reed led his exhausted companions along the relatively solid ground of the marsh’s edge, searching for the safest path through the treacherous terrain. The violet fragment in his palm throbbed steadily, reacting to the corrupted energies that permeated this forsaken place.

"The marshes were created during the Mage Wars," Kalia explained, her voice hushed with reverence for ancient horrors. "A battleground where rival sorcerers unleashed mutations and plagues upon each other’s forces. Nothing has lived purely here since."

As if to punctuate her words, something massive shifted beneath the nearby water’s surface, creating ripples that disturbed the permanent mist hovering above the marsh. Eyes the size of dinner plates briefly surfaced, regarding them with alien intelligence before submerging once more.

"We should rest," Shia suggested, noting the exhaustion etched into Reed’s features. "You’ve pushed yourself too far with these new powers."

Reed shook his head stubbornly. "Tarrant won’t rest. If the Hunter truly has the tracking abilities his fragment grants him, he’ll follow our trail to the marsh’s edge by midday. We need to be well within the marsh by then, where the waters will mask our scent and trail."

The words had barely left his mouth when a whistling sound cut through the morning air. Reed’s enhanced senses detected the danger an instant before impact—a crossbow bolt aimed directly at his throat.

With reflexes augmented by the violet fragment, he twisted aside, the bolt grazing his cheek instead of finding its mark. Blood trickled from the shallow cut as he drew his obsidian blade, scanning the treeline for their attackers.

They emerged like nightmares made flesh—six figures in form-fitting leather armor dyed the color of dried blood. Each wore a distinctive silver medallion depicting a severed hand clutching a gemstone. Their faces were concealed behind masks crafted from human skin stretched taut over metal frames.

"Hero Hunters," Vex spat, drawing her twin swords. "Professional fragment trackers."

Reed had heard of these mercenaries—specialized killers who hunted fragment bearers for the highest bidder. Not aligned with any kingdom or faction, they served only coin and the thrill of the hunt.

"Reed Nightblade," the lead hunter called out, voice muffled behind his grotesque mask. "The Lords Council has declared you rogue. Five thousand gold imperials for your capture, double that for your fragment. Dead or alive, though preferably alive—the fragment is easier to extract when the host’s heart still beats."

Reed’s mind raced. The Lords Council—the governing body that maintained the fragile peace between the territorial lords—had never before declared one of their own rogue. This was an unprecedented escalation.

"What crimes does the Council charge me with?" Reed demanded, playing for time as he subtly positioned himself to protect his companions.

The leader chuckled, the sound hollow behind his mask. "Unauthorized territory expansion. Harboring fugitives from aligned kingdoms. Theft of arcane artifacts. Murder of Council observers." He paused dramatically. "And the most serious charge—fragment manipulation. The merging of two fragments into one is considered an abomination against the natural order."

So it was true. The Lords Council feared what Reed had discovered—that the fragments could be merged, that their carefully maintained system of checks and balances could be undermined. They had moved quickly to eliminate the threat he represented.

"Surrender your fragment willingly," the hunter continued, "and your companions may leave unharmed. Resist, and we’ll carve it from your corpse before feeding what remains to the marsh beasts."

Reed felt Shia’s mind touch his through their connection. They’re positioned to block any retreat into the forest. Our only option is forward—into the marsh.

Reed’s response flowed back along their mental link. The marsh is certain death without guidance. We fight.

He raised his obsidian blade, the violet fragment pulsing in his palm. "If you know what I’ve done with the fragments," he called to the hunters, "then you know what I’m capable of. This doesn’t end well for you."

The leader signaled, and the hunters attacked in perfect coordination. These were no common mercenaries—their movements suggested years of training specifically for combating fragment bearers. Two launched barbed nets designed to entangle and restrict movement while the others closed in with weapons clearly forged to counteract fragment-enhanced abilities.

Reed channeled power through his merged fragment, feeling the dual aspects of Warden and Sovereign responding to his need. Shadows coalesced around his blade, extending its reach and lethality, while his physical form became partially translucent—the laws of flesh temporarily suspended by Sovereign’s influence.

The first hunter to reach him swung a spiked flail that hummed with anti-fragment enchantments. Reed’s partially incorporeal state allowed the weapon to pass through his shoulder, causing pain but no physical damage. His counterstrike was devastatingly real, however, the shadow-wreathed obsidian blade cleaving through the hunter’s enchanted armor and the ribcage beneath.

Blood sprayed in an arterial fountain as Reed withdrew his blade, the dying hunter’s scream cut short by the collapse of his punctured lung. The other hunters hesitated, witnessing firsthand the unknown capabilities of merged fragments.

Shia moved like a deadly wraith, her daggers finding gaps in the second hunter’s armor with uncanny precision. Through their connection, Reed sensed her drawing upon a fraction of his fragment’s power, her movements accelerated beyond human limitations.

Vex and Kalia fought back-to-back against the remaining hunters, their conventional weapons less effective against the specialized armor. One of the barbed nets caught Kalia, its hooks digging into her flesh as she struggled to break free.

Reed felt rage building within him, the merged fragment responding to his emotions with escalating power. The violet light from his palm intensified, casting eerie shadows across the battlefield as he reached out with his free hand toward the hunter restraining Kalia.

Reality warped around his fingers as he accessed Sovereign’s domain. The hunter’s armor—and the flesh beneath—began to transform, molecular structure shifting at Reed’s command. The man’s scream devolved into wet gurgles as his body collapsed in on itself, bones softening and organs liquefying until nothing remained but a puddle of organic matter still clothed in leather armor.

The remaining hunters broke formation, terror overcoming their professional discipline. Reed raised his hand again, shadows gathering around him in a tempestuous aura.

"Return to your masters," he commanded, his voice layered with the fragment’s power. "Tell them what you witnessed here. Tell them that Reed Nightblade is not prey to be hunted, but a power to be reckoned with."

The hunters retreated, dragging their wounded with them but leaving their dead behind. Reed watched them flee, the violet fragment gradually calming as the immediate threat passed.

"That display will only intensify the hunt," Vex warned as she helped free Kalia from the barbed net. "You just confirmed their worst fears about fragment merging."

Reed nodded grimly. "Better they fear me than underestimate me." He turned to Shia, their connection humming with shared understanding. "The Council’s involvement changes everything. We’re no longer just facing Tarrant and his allies—we’re now enemies of the entire established order."

"The marshes remain our best option," Shia said, wiping blood from her daggers. "We can lose all pursuers there, then circle back toward Goblin’s Hollow from an unexpected direction."

Reed stared into the mist-shrouded expanse of the Venom Marshes, sensing the corruption and danger that waited within. With a deep breath, he stepped forward, the others following close behind.

They had traveled less than a mile into the fetid waters when Reed felt it—a ripple in the fabric of reality, distant but unmistakable. He froze, the violet fragment pulsing in urgent warning.

"What is it?" Kalia asked, noticing his sudden tension.

Reed turned, his enhanced senses probing the distance. "Another fragment bearer. Not Tarrant or his companions—someone new." His eyes narrowed as he focused on the distant energy signature. "And powerful. Very powerful."

The marshwater around them began to bubble and churn, not from any natural creature but from arcane energy permeating the liquid itself. The corruption was responding to the approach of fragment power.

"Someone who knows these marshes," Reed continued, the realization dawning with terrible clarity. "Someone who’s turned this poisoned land to their advantage."

A voice echoed across the marsh, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere at once—a woman’s voice, rich with dark amusement and ancient malice.

"Welcome to my domain, Reed Nightblade," it purred. "I’ve been waiting so long for another fragment bearer to visit my humble home."

The mist before them parted, revealing a figure standing impossibly atop the marshwater—a woman of ageless beauty, her skin the pallid gray of a corpse, her eyes pools of mercurial silver. In her chest, where her heart should be, glowed a pulsing black fragment that seemed to devour the light around it.

"The Harvester fragment," Reed whispered, recognizing the energy signature from his visions.

The woman smiled, revealing teeth filed to sharp points. "Indeed. And you’ve brought me such a fascinating prize—two fragments merged into one. My collection grows more interesting by the day."

All around them, the marsh began to rise—not water but corpses, hundreds of them in various states of decay, emerging from beneath the fetid surface. Each bore the same distinctive mark: a hollow cavity where a fragment had once been embedded.

The woman—the Harvester—spread her arms in a welcoming gesture that held nothing but deadly promise. "You really should have researched these marshes more carefully before entering them, Lord Nightblade. This has been my killing ground for centuries."

Reed’s grip tightened on his obsidian blade as the violet fragment pulsed with urgent warning. They had escaped the hunters only to blunder into the territory of something far more ancient and deadly—a fragment bearer who had turned an entire region into her personal graveyard of rivals.