Shades of Grey

L’ÎLE DU DIABLE— FEBRUARY 1843

I awoke some time later in a comfortable, warm bed — a welcome change from the bushes and hammocks that had lately become my makeshift resting places.

I stirred when I felt a soft cool cloth along my jawline. I opened my eyes quickly, recalling what had happened. My mysterious rescuer sat to my left with a damp cloth in his hand and a tired glaze over his handsome eyes. How long had I been here? Had he been tending to me all night?

“Where am I? Who are you?” I slurred, my head still throbbing from the impact. I must have hit the boulder harder than I thought; I should have been close to completely healed by now.

“My name is Rodag and you are at a Nemorosa Healing Centre. I brought you in late last night after I found you in the forest. That was very brave, taking on that Coeur Troll...”

He looked at me, waiting for my response, but I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t know how. This beautiful man was a Nemorosa, the race I had sworn to the Terre Sprites I would eradicate. I pictured myself plunging my Flamesword into his perfect chest and my stomach began to churn.

I kept my traitorously amorous eyes distant and unfriendly. Perhaps he would take offence and turn me out. Then Forma and I could strike with full, guiltless power.

“What happened to the Coeur?” I asked insipidly.

“I hit it with one of my sleeping pellets. All Nemorosas have them in case we meet any particularly nasty creatures.”

I nodded, knowing full well which weapons a Nemorosa carried.

“Where’s Forma?” I asked sharply in remembrance.

“Who? Oh, your twin sister? She’s over there.”

He pointed to the bed behind me and I saw Forma — still in disguise as me — asleep with bandages covering her face and hands. It was disturbing to see one’s self so beaten and broken yet to be sitting right next to it in near adequate health.

I swung my feet over the bed and leaned over Forma’s sleeping body.

“What are you doing?” Rodag cried defensively. “I can assure you, she is in the best—”

“Please don’t speak,” I interjected. “I know what I’m doing.”

I pulled out the analgesic and peeled back Forma’s bandages, revealing her extensive wounds. I gagged slightly at their graphic nature before promptly opening the analgesic and letting droplets fall onto her injuries. Rodag’s face lit up in fascinated wonder as he watched them seal.

“What magic is this?” he asked as I put away the bottle.

I said nothing and waited as Forma began to cough and gasp with life. I kept my eyes on Rodag’s face as she changed back to her natural appearance. His mouth dropped and his beautiful amber eyes grew very wide in understandable horror.

“A Fairy?!” he said in disgust.

“A Maisling, thank you!” Forma cried defensively.

Rodag shifted his attention to me.

“Who are you?” he asked slowly, the realisation sinking in.

“My name is Grey Echo and I am a Creature Hunter.”

I heard his pulse drop and saw his eyes flicker in fear. He knew that the Nemorosa were on the List of Dangerous Creatures. I gripped my Flamesword hilt in preparation for possible attack but instead he kicked his chair down in aggravation, almost shouting in feral frustration.

“This is wrong, this is so very wrong! Why are you here?” Rodag cried.

“Why am I here?! You brought me here!” I shouted angrily at him. “Is the Nemorosa memory really as bad as they tell us in school?”

“I remember perfectly well! I meant why are you on the island?!”

His candour and abrupt change of attitude stunned me into silence.

“I was caught in a storm and shipwrecked!” I sputtered when I finally remembered.

“That’s—”

Suddenly voices and footsteps began increasing in volume, echoing off the walls of the outer hallways as they drew closer to us.

“We have to leave. If we’re caught here together, they’ll execute us both. Stay near me and I’ll take you to a safe place.”

Rodag’s voice was very low and cautious. It was highly attractive and I hated myself for realising such a thing. I was going to kill this man and all of the Nemorosa people. I had to: it was part of my duty, my inevitable Samarran fate. Hunters were not allowed to have feelings.

Rodag led Forma and me through a large window into a dark part of the forest, carrying only a small torch. I was grateful to Rodag for helping me escape but I was irate about his attitude, acting as if he had to help me: the helpless female Hunter.

“I don’t like him,” Forma stated as she rested on my shoulder.

“I don’t either, but there’s something about him that I find…interesting…” I replied studying him as he gracefully leapt over the natural obstacles of the jungle in front of us.

“I don’t like your tone,” Forma responded, staring at me incredulously.

“What? I find him fascinating, and you can’t deny that he is handsome.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you fancy him!”

“No! Why would I do that?” I replied quickly, trying to convince myself of the validity of my denial. “That’s absurd…”

“Good, because we’re going to eliminate him. You know that, right? He presents a threat and we have to get rid of him.”

I looked at Rodag again as he turned a sudden corner and we came upon a large cave: nearly fifty yards tall with smooth, dry walls and dimly lit torches strung up at various points throughout the expansive cavern. It was beautiful. I found myself silent in reverent admiration.

“We should be safe here,” Rodag said.

“It’s amazing,” I admired.

There was a beat as Rodag smiled softly, appreciative of my awe.

“Have you been travelling long, Miss Echo?” he asked with a sudden change of attitude.

I turned to him, reluctant to answer but also wanting to be civil. After a brief pause, my sense of civility won out.

“Only for about a month. I left school at the end of December.”

Rodag nodded and then looked me up and down, an expression of dark curiosity on his face.

“What do they teach you about the Nemorosa?”

I looked at him, wondering if I should really answer. Lady Mirala, professor of Earth Creatures, had painted the Nemorosa as a Creature equivalent to a cockroach: an irritating pest.

When I gave no answer, Rodag nodded understandingly and turned his focus to the ground.

“As I presumed…” he replied in a distant voice.

“What? I said nothing!”

“You don’t need to, but you should know that we are more than what your professors say we are.”

A real, biting dolour began to shadow his handsome face.

“I’m sure you are...” I replied mistily to myself.

“Not all Creatures descended from those involved in the Rip are evil. We have the right to live too. Judging an entire race based on the actions of one individual is not the basis for any profession.”

My heart leapt to my throat and I felt Forma, who had been mercifully quiet until this point, stir on my shoulder.

“Don’t lose sight of what we have to do!” she barked. “He’s playing you!”

“Leave me alone, go keep watch,” I shot back.

She angrily flew out of my coat and up to the front of the cave, obediently turning into a large silverback gorilla. I smiled at her smug reluctance and turned back to Rodag, who was suddenly studying my face with great curiosity.

“What is it?” I asked, wondering if I had something stuck in my teeth. I ran my tongue around the length of my mouth and found nothing.

“Why do Hunters need to hide their faces?” he asked gently.

I was voiceless for a moment as my heart began to beat faster. I had to pull away now if I had any hope of completing my mission.

“Hunters are not supposed to reveal their faces: we are to remain invisible, ambulatory and in the shadows...” I repeated the decree from the Hunter’s Code with deep regret. “We must not be recognised as an individual.”

“Why?” he asked.

“There is a danger of megalomania. No Hunter can be more powerful than another. Hunters as a whole must be recognised…all Hunters must receive the glory…”

He laughed at my well-trained tone of voice and stood, taking two steps towards the cave entrance where Forma sat studying a small insect.

“Are you fluent in many languages, Miss Echo?” he asked haphazardly. “Do they teach you foreign language at your school?”

I took a brief moment

“I am fluent in enough. Hunters learn seven of the world’s languages. More is encouraged, but seven is the minimum.”

Rodag nodded and we then locked gazes, only to be interrupted by a loud, irritated roar from Forma.

“Forma!” I shouted at her telepathically. “Are you trying to intervene?”

“No, I dropped a rock on my foot. But it was indeed advantageously timed, wouldn’t you say?” she replied in black amusement.

Rodag laughed.

“How long have you been with your Maisling?”

“Ten years. Every Tyro Hunter is matched with a Maisling Fairy at birth. They grow apart from each other and when the Tyro reaches eight years of age, they can be admitted to the school. It is then that they meet their Fairy. The Tyro and Maisling then do everything together; eat, sleep, learn, practice, play...everything.”

Rodag chuckled to himself.

“That would drive me mad.”

I nodded.

“It has driven me mad on many occasions. Forma still hasn’t recovered, I’m not sure she ever will.”

He laughed and I heard Forma utter a grunt of annoyance.

“You seem like you’d rather be by yourself.”

I looked up, appalled at that idea.

“Good Lord, no. I may have threatened Forma with de-Federation before, but I would never actually go through with it.”

“What is de-Federation?” he asked.

I paused before answering. The professors at school had given us only one, brief lesson on de-Federation and that was only for us to learn what it was: it was highly discouraged. Only if absolutely necessary must any Hunter or Maisling even consider it.

“De-Federation is the process of severing the magical bond that links Maisling and Hunter, allowing them to go their separate ways. It is done by the Elf Council if the Hunter and Maisling have either been poorly matched, no longer wish to work together or any other unforeseen circumstance prevents them from being a benefit to the world.”

“Who is the Elf Council?”

“The oldest and highest authority on what the average human would call ‘supernatural’ phenomena. They reside in a secret village somewhere deep in the mountains, somewhere you can only find when you absolutely need them. The heightened magical security protects the secrecy of the Creature Hunting profession.”

“How often does de-Federation happen?”

“It’s rare. I’ve only ever heard of three cases in the entire history of Creature Hunting.”

“Wow…”

I looked up at the greenery just past Forma, trying to ignore the fact that I had inadvertently laid my hand over Rodag’s and that neither of us had moved.

“So, what is life like for a Nemorosa?” I asked, trying to elongate our colloquial exchange. Despite how much I resented it, I enjoyed talking with Rodag and I wanted to prolong the inevitable completion of my ‘duties’.

He shrugged.

“Dull, monotonous, ordered. I have done the same thing every day for my entire life,” he said wistfully.

“What is that?” I prodded.

“Hunt for food.”

I laughed suddenly. The reason for such a reaction is still a mystery to me today and I curse whatever triggered it. It took several minutes for me to recover and for the apprehensive worry to slide from Rodag’s face.

“Well, I’m glad I amuse you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I recovered. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something to laugh at...”

“Excuse me?” Forma cried in exasperation. “Do I not amuse you?”

I ignored her, concentrating on Rodag’s wide smile.

“Well I’m glad that I could deliver you a moment of amusment.”

I smiled and there was a brief moment of conversational stagnancy.

“Do you have anyone special in your life?” I then asked in soft curiosity.

He gave me a sly smile, clearly hearing the underlying tone of my comment.

“Yes: my brother Everhart, my sister Raysa and my mother Anyma. My father died in a battle with a Creature Hunter many years ago. Other than that, I have no one.”

My heart dropped at the mention of a Creature Hunter.

“I’m so sorry,” I heard myself say.

“Why? It wasn’t your fault, unless you told a Hunter named Willania Drake to come to this island and slaughter over seventy percent of the Nemorosa population.”

I paused in recognition, feeling as though Mnemosyne had seen fit to put a piece of the puzzle that was my memory back into place… I knew that name somehow…

“What was your life like before you began Hunting?” he asked suddenly, breaking my train of thought.

“Excuse me?” I asked. As far as desultory questions go, Rodag seemed to have mastered the art.

“Before you went to school, what was your life like?”

I looked at him and tried to formulate a logical answer.

“I really don’t remember. I only recently learned of what happened to my parents, but nothing else remains,” I replied softly. “I’m going to Vikka to seek out a Vanguard who could hold the answers.”

He reacted with understandable shock: everyone knew stories of the terrors of Vanguards.

“A Vanguard?! Are you sure? Vanguards are so powerful that they are rumoured not to exist!”

“This Vanguard killed my parent: I need to find him.”

There was a thoughtful pause before Rodag turned to me, eyes wide in realisation.

“I could bring the memories back for you, if you wanted,” he offered. “Then you wouldn’t have to seek the Vanguard.”

“How?” I asked.

“I could reach inside of you and trigger your buried memories, if you wanted,” he said gently, not wanting to offend me. “It is one of the benefits of the Nemorosa power.”

I paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not knowing the exact content of the memories would do me any good at all.

“Why would you do that?”

Rodag gently grasped my right hand and removed my glove, slowly wrapping his hand around mine.

“Because—”

“Vèi muri în noaptea aceasta!”

I froze in horror and looked around the cave, waiting for the fire to burn my vision as it had before in Lord Rasna’s office, but it did not come.

“What is it?” he asked as he released my hand, snapping me back to the present. “Did you see something?”

“I heard him whisper something in Romanian!” I said, trying to slowly pull myself together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“GREY!” Forma cried, shifting back to her natural self. “Someone is coming!”

I tuned in my hearing and I heard footsteps nearing the cave. Rodag heard them as well.

“Hurry! You must leave!”

I did not hesitate. I ran out of the cave and hid in a nearby thicket of bushes. I watched the newcomers advance on the cave with bated breath, my hand hovering over my large crossbow.

“Do it!” Forma urged.

I listened as my instincts took over. I loaded my crossbow — keeping my eyes on the new Nemorosa males — and aimed.

“Rodag, what are you doing here?” asked one of them.

“I had an argument with Raysa and I needed some fresh air. I started walking and ended up here,” Rodag replied with convincing indifference.

“Chief Sirva has called an emergency gathering of the entire tribe. Now.”

“Alright, thank you, I’ll be right there.”

The two Nemorosa boys looked at each other and then at Rodag: they knew he was hiding something. I prayed that they would dismiss their suspicions and leave. I had to speak with Rodag once more.

Finally, they descended the path and I was free to quit my hiding place, crossbow still in hand. Rodag’s eyes fell on the loaded weapon.

“Were you going to shoot them?!” He exclaimed in horror.

I ignored him.

“I need to eavesdrop on that gathering.”

Rodag’s eyes widened.

“No! It’s too dangerous! If you are caught—”

“Please! If you want to spare your tribe, I have to listen.”

Rodag searched my face and saw that I would stand firm in my decision. He sighed, just as I had sighed at Forma’s numerous displays of similar mulishness.

“Alright, but you must stay hidden. If you are discovered, I am not sure I can help you.”

He began walking back to the camp, leaving me less than confident in my own judgment.