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Capture (2)
Last Updated:
2026-01-31 00:38:02
Latest chapter
Foundling 4 Prisoner (2)
Everything Hunter had attained was all for naught. He was once again that strange, fey youth of the soulless eyes, different, a great unknown synonymous with the mystery and opportunity afforded by this land.“You are none of those things.”“How am I not, Master Poe?” The sadness and hopeless despair in Hunter’s voice became light, nostalgic. “You are the closet to being able to share, to feel the heart of a thing.”“Only through you Hunter.”“No. I think that is who are. Have ever been. Tete once shared the thought of it.”That struck them both. It was the first time Hunter had spoken of his den mate in several years.“A useless gift.”Hunter knew his Master did not mean it. It was a jab at something beyond them both.“No gift is useless. So it is said.”“If used to appropriate ends.”“So it is preached.”Contrary to the note of despair permeating every vine of conscience and unconscious thought, the mood had shifted to something light, less daring.“I did not think it to end so soon
Foundling 4 Prisoner
Hunter sat on a cold stone bench in the corner of a cold stone room. Small, ill lit, barred by the locked, thick bolt in the heavy, banded oaken door with a Mage standing duty just beyond that. He was still chained but had better learned to manage the weight of the dangling shackles now attached to the floor and giving him room enough to reach the chamber pot. That’s all there was, nothing else. Did they think so much, or so little of him, Hunter pondered.The tread of boots coming toward him were unmistakable. The person he least wanted to approach. A few words spoken beyond the door and the bolt was unlatched, the door opened.“What is the sentiment?” Hunter asked, not without some irony.“Not good. They are afraid everything they are working toward may be in jeopardy. They don’t want to give the Academy excuse to try and exert further pressure on the School. They just need to get beyond this with a swift and satisfactory resolution.”Hunter’s smile was cold, emotionless.Poe went a
Foundling 3 Deliberation
From most of the Magi in the stalls, there were only hard-eyed stares and very little sympathy. In a few, there was compassion and consideration. In others doubt and uncertainty, but would that uncertainty outweigh the pressure to find Hunter fully accountable. There had to be a full consensus, and one dissenter would impede judgement. If there were one dissenter, only his ability would be severed, and he would not slain. That delay could also allow for further investigation of Hunter’s claim that he had been attacked in some manner. Hunter gave one last attempt.“All that I ask is an investigation of the truth of my claim. It has to do with the seat of my home.” Hunter looked to Poe sitting in front of him. “The rift. There, find the truth.”The mask waivered, and Poe frowned for only Hunter to see. Too late, though, as murmuring took up root in the gallery and began to spread.The Magister’s stern baritone halted its spread. “Is there any who will speak for Hunter?” he asked, gaze
Foundling Capture (3)
“It is good that you are awake to speak for yourself.” The emotionlessness in Poe’s voice belied the considerate regard in his eyes, buts the coldness in his voice still saddened Hunter.Hunter had little prospects of swaying anyone. He had broken the most sacred law of the Magi. If they could not hold themselves to the highest of standards, no one could trust them. It could lead to ruination, a fracturing of the Academy and all its parts. War.“You are here to be judged before the censure of your peers.” The Magister’s rich baritone filled the room. “It saddens us to be here to make judgement against anyone, let alone one of our own. A promising generation brought down by the undoubted negligence of the Masters’, and, maybe, too much indulgence. The blame is ours, but not the crime.”“Where is my mother’s bow?” Hunter asked, as if what the Magister had spoken was meaningless to him.“Safely stored.” Poe’s voice, this time, was neither lifeless nor deathless, but kind.Hunter’s face
Foundling Capture (2)
He smelled them before he came upon them. Clustered, marbled scents packed together. He could parse some scents from the herd but not all. Hunter used his remaining ki to give the mirage substance and texture as he had before and sent it forth like a bird on wing. Only this bird’s wings grew and swelled, and with each flap the light in the corridors retreated. Even Hunter was blinded by this casting, but he smelt their perspiration, heard rustling cloth, felt hot breath.The onrush shocked the hall, hit them with a blow the weight enough to knock wind from lungs and in that moment something cold and detached lit those purple eyes with a fervor not to be resisted. Dispassionately, heartlessly, Hunter disabled with blows that broke arms, legs, hips. Pain disrupted concentration, retarded pursuit, hindered the enemy, reduced numbers. Screams erupted.Past them Hunter took up a heavy cloak and was through the door, into the courtyard. He would need it until his body adapted, his old self
Foundling Capture (1)
Hunter moved quickly and surely, avoiding some, giving signs of himself to divert others from his true objective, and when he had been trapped, every arrow that had landed he had felt their pain as a palpable blow, but he would not allow that empathy to overwhelm him.He wanted to scream his frustration, cut the ache from his heart. He had come to honor the discipline and teachings of the School, the values it espoused, its objectives and goals for the New Land. Now, all that was now lost to him. He was pariah, murderer, his life forfeit, and, worst of all, he had lost his friends. His plan was simple: make it to the valley. Once he got there, he could elude his pursuers. His only concern was Poe and the wards that bound his powers. He did not want to hurt anyone else, have more blood laid at his feet, but he would not be captured.Then a wave, more a wall, of emotions welled up from within him. It was frightening, disconcerting, how they strung him, keyed him, dampened him, doubled
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