Chapter 5: The Four Gateways Alliance

Allen flung himself at the Witch. Landing with a splat as they hit the wet ground.

“Say that again.” He snarled, pinning her beneath him. Her face calm, the Witch stared up at him impassively. Jaw clenched and breathing ragged, his face was distorted by the hatred, grief, and disgust that overwhelmed his otherwise naturally charming features. Flashing across his honest eyes, red from tears and sleepless nights, his emotions played like a kaleidoscope before the woman. Holding the young man’s gaze, the Witch observed the depths of his tortured soul. She knew the pain her words had inflicted yet could no longer remain silent about her involvement in Harold Pierce’s untimely demise.

“I am responsible for Pierce’s death.” She announced, definitively. Allen’s grip on her arms growing more intense with her confession. The warm blood from her wound seeped between his fingers. Still he sustained his fervent hold on her. “The werewolf followed my scent to your farm, just like it was lured here today.” The Witch said.

Her expression placid. It did not waver, even as Allen’s nails dug into the fresh wound and the stones scraped her back as his body pushed her flush against them. Physical suffering being a favorite weakness to exploit within the Alliance, the Witch was conditioned to endure at least this much pain.

His eyes still swirling with emotions, like a turbulent sea she met them without any pretense despite her discomfort. “You were there that day?” Allen asked, not yet dropping his hostility. His head, reeling from sleep deprivation, throbbed as he attempted to distinguish what was true in her words.

“For a job.” She affirmed.

Allen removed his hands from the Witch, but questioned her further “The werewolf?”

“We were not prior acquaintances.”

“Why was it following you?”

“Just popular, I suppose.” averting her eyes as she said this, Allen picked up on the fact that her answer carried with it some implied meaning. However, finding himself frustrated by the inadequacy this explanation, Allen slammed her back into the paving stones again.

Deliberately deceptive and of questionable sanity, everything about the Witch seemed to annoy him. From her sweet enticing speech to her narrow expressionless eyes, all was felt as though it was eating away at his patience. Just who is she to have monsters chasing after her? Was she guilty of what he had accused her of? The questions overlapping in his mind, Allen could no longer be certain of the truth.

Evidently becoming tired of their fraught interaction, the Witch let out a long sigh. Then made a reluctant suggestion, “Ask those assholes at the Alliance.”

The Alliance of the Four Gateways was a government institution, which stood apart from the royal family or the secular sector. Comprised of Witches, Wizards, Hunters, and Healers, it dealt solely with all matters of magic throughout the realm of Vemehurst. Whilst, there were minor stronghold scatters around the country, Ineset housed The Alliance’s palatial headquarters. Occupy an imposing position, it was the primary contributing factor behind the city’s magical notoriety.

An infamously aloof organization, entry was exclusive to elite mage families and trainees who enlisted into the Hunter and Healer divisions. Facing scarce outside regulations or scrutiny from other government branches, they preserved their independence and origins adamantly.   

Looking down on her, Allen made no motion to move. “That den of barbarous snakes will have more answers than me.” She said, the slander easily slipping from her thin lips. Thinking this remark ironic coming from her, he scoffed. Sliding off of her, after a moment’s consideration, the both stood. Wet with mud and blood, they walked in the direction of the Alliance. Encountering few people, they were met with looks of apprehension as those who saw them quickly hustled past.

Noticing now that the Witch’s tattered and dirtied cloak, bore the crest of the Alliance. Allen felt somewhat assured that at least part of the story had been true. Nonetheless, he was sure to maintain less than an arm’s length from her, in case of an attempt at escape.

“Witch, what gate of the Alliance are you from?” he asked.

“Night Gate.” She replied curtly.

Naming of the Alliance divisions was fairly straightforward. The two magic sectors were divided into the elemental mages in the Day Gate and dark magic mages in the Night Gate. Hunters, who could wield magic weapons belonged to the Twilight Gate and Healers and Medics occupied the Dawn Gate. Other than determining that the Witch was a dark magic user, her answer held minor significance to Allen. 

Navigating the streets in awkward silence, it had neared an hour before they came to approach the north gate of the Alliance. The Witch pausing just outside the perimeter wall, she rummaged through a side pouch on her belt. Removing a small blank card, she pressed her thumb to it. Leaving a clear print of dried blood, it was all that visibly marked its otherwise clean rectangular surface.

“That will get you through the barrier and security.” She said, handing him the card. Turning it over doubtful, he replied “I still want answers.”

Examining the ground as though the shadow cast by the wall divided where they stood, she seemed to consider her next step carefully. “I have other persons to answer to first.” Discerning her slight trepidation, Allen felt smug once he had gleaned there was something that even this disagreeable Witch feared. “Ask for Reka Trenton. She is very capable.” The Witch instructed, moving forward.

Taking a deep breath, she managed a thin smile before stepping across into the shade. Once her body had completely crossed out of the evening light. The wall’s shadow rose up silently. Morphing from the darkness, it took on a monstrous shape. Before finally surging up like a gelatinous wave and swallowing the Witch up in an instant.