Irene returned to the camp to see a scene that defied common sense. The two boys were yelling at the sobbing aspiring witch and each other. What was missing was a platter of seasoning the local fauna could use when it arrived, attracted by all the loud noises. There had to be a limit to how ignorant those three could be.

She had the option to just turn back and walk away. But that would not satisfy her curiosity. No, it wasn’t that. She simply could not walk away, because someone had made an effort to place those three in her path. And since all the beings with power ignored her, it could only mean Irene had stumbled in the right direction.

Besides, there were only two kinds of traps; the ones you did not know about and the ones you know about. She very much preferred the latter. Now it was about time to put an end to this madness.

“This is going to be irritating,” Irene sighed and stepped into the circle of light formed by the fire. “You lot, shut up!” She bellowed.

That got their attention. All three kids stared at her with eyes wide open and mouths agape. The silly look on their faces was what she had expected. Not bothering with saying more, Irene picked two of the pile of branches and pushed them into the soft ground, before placing the Erebus’ tail above the campfire.

“You,” she pointed at the blonde one, “make sure it doesn’t burn. And you,” her head turned to the black-haired one, “follow me.” Irene then switched her attention to the pale witch. “As for you, sit down and don’t make a sound.”

Finding an open space in the bog wasn’t difficult. Finding one with enough solid ground, on the other hand, was quite the task. Well, it would be, if the Witch Hunter had not already picked the location beforehand. She had informed this particular child that she was interested in how he had obtained the Ilwgwaed coin.

“This will do.” Irene stopped and dropped the great sword from her shoulder. “Six steps to either side there is a pond. There is another one behind me. Force me to step into either and I will answer any question you have.”

“I don’t…” She cut the boy with a gesture.

“I am not finished. If you avoid the water until the food is done, you can keep the medallion and I will see what I can do about your request.” Irene smiled, savouring the best part of her offer. “Get drenched more than six times and you lose.”

That got his attention. This child had a goal it was willing to sacrifice himself for. As interesting as that was, Irene wanted to figure out why was he with the other two. Was this one special? Was he here just to throw her off the correct path? There were too many reasons for him to bear the mark of a friend to Frozen Keep. One thing she was sure about, he had not stolen it, otherwise, this foolish boy would have had no idea what it was.

“Lady Navina, this is…”

“You have to the count of three to take your weapon and attack me or I will.” She shook her head

“No.” The boy crossed his arms over his chest.

“No?” This was not the answer she had expected.

“You heard me.” He stared at her with confidence Irene could not explain. “Even if I try, I cannot win.”

“Oh my. There is a brain in that head of yours.” She had to give some credit to the poor fellow. He was smart and attentive, which was enough to make him stand out from among all the idiots who braved to enter the Wilds.

“Very well,” Irene relented and retrieved one of the daggers from her belt. “Indulge me. I’ve been wondering these parts for quite some time and would love to have a sparring partner.”

“That’s a surprise.” The boy smiled and relaxed.

“He is too trusting” Her companion sneered.

“The downfall of youth...” She sighed and shook her head.

“What?” The young man looked her like a confused child.

“You heard me.” Irene stared at him, with as much disappointment as she could force into her eyes. “A single word is enough to make you drop your guard. What made you think, you and your friend could survive a trip through the Wilds?”

“We had to reach Esthergrad because Helen convinced us, she was being hunted by some shady characters.” He removed the falchion from its scabbard.

It was an old weapon and all the markings on the steel blade spoke volumes on how much use it had seen. But it was also kept in good condition. A lot of patience and care was put in keeping it sharp and undamaged. On a boat and around any of the sea-side towns it would be an invaluable piece, however, it was not a suitable weapon for the Wilds.

The blade was only a meter long, whereas the commonly used swords measured at a meter and a half. There was no spike or sharp edge on the pommel, which was a must. On top of that, there was hardly any space on the hilt, for a person to use both hands when additional force was required. And the blade, it was a single-sided one, unlike the double-edges used by nearly all of the local weapons.

But and this was important, Irene had to admit that if this child had survived for this long, he had to have a lot of skill and talent. The question was; how much?

“No. That is wrong.” Her companion laughed inside her head. “The question is; why do you care?”

It had a point. This was out of character for her. Irene couldn’t blame it all on the mystery surrounding those three. She thought about it, while the kid made a few practise swings. There was something about him, not like the unnatural charm of his friend. It was because of his eyes and the honesty in them, Irene realised. He genuinely wished for her help, even if he had not said it yet.

“He admires you. I can sense it from here.”

“Enough,” Irene said in a cold voice. Her eyes fixed in the space between them, she stretched out her spine, feeling the pressure leave her joints. Not that it changed much, but it was a comforting motion.

She smiled seeing the boy’s face turn serious as he took a careful step in her direction. A moment later, he was charging at her. His eyes focused on the dagger in her hand. It a sensible choice, but it left him vulnerable to other attacks.

There wasn’t much point to using her full strength and speed. After all, this child was but a human and not a monster of the Wilds. Irene waited for the blade to reach her and gently stepped to the side. Using her foot, she tripped the young man. Before his momentum could carry him to the stale water, she grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pushed him slightly to the left.

“Please, do take this a bit more serious.” Irene kicked the boy in the ribs for good measure. Not too hard to cause an injury, but hard enough to make him curl into a ball. “I saw you fight the porcupine bear, so I know you are better than this.”

“I… though… this was a… duel…” He squeezed the words while trying to catch his breath.

“Are you stupid or just slow?” Irene laughed. “I said I wanted someone to spar with. If I wanted to bully you, I would have forced you to accept my first offer.”

She offered him a hand to help him stand up. “Too trusting,” she giggled and slammed her head into his face, sending him back to the ground.

“What the fuck!” The boy yelled her whipping the blood that streamed from his nose.

“I expected more from a sailor.” Irene stalked him like a snowcat. “This time, I will allow you to stand up, but the next time you fall, you are not getting up.” She gave him a coy smile. “Where did you get that medallion from?”

“It was a gift,” the boy snorted back at her.

He almost took her by surprise by swiping her feet. The Witch Hunter realised it was just a feint too late. The young man used the attack to twist his body and swipe a handful of the stale water from the pond, which he hurled in her face. Taking advantage of her momentary blindness and curses, he barrelled into her. His arms wrapped around her own and chest, the boy forced her to the ground.

This was a good idea. Force her into a brawl, where his size and the fact he was a man would be an advantage. If she was a normal human, it would have been his win for sure. But Irene was a Witch Hunter. However, as easy as it was to overpower him, it would not serve a purpose. She was trying to evaluate his skill, not humiliate him.

“You almost had me fooled.” Her companion laughed. “You do want to do it. But you don’t want it to be obvious, because you are enjoying this.”

Irene ignored the obvious jibe and smiled at the young man. Without saying a word, she kissed him gently on the lips. This stunned him and quickly released her and pulled back. His bewildered expression was priceless and would love to savour it. Alas, she couldn’t let go of the fact that he had managed to push her to the ground.

“Not bad,” Irene purred and forced her foot into the side of his head knocking him out.

She stood there, lying on the soft dry grass. This was a nice feeling. Her heart was beating fast and she was prepared to explode into motion, similar to how she was during a hunt. But it was different. She also felt calm and joy. Irene wanted this moment to last forever, however, it was only a moment.

The Witch Hunter closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the hint of a memory danced in her mind. She would love to follow it, but as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. In its place, there was a sensation of loss and emptiness. She had done something similar with another in the past. Someone important to her, a person that had made her laugh and enjoy the world. A person that had cracked the walls around her jaded heart.

“Reina.” The voice in her head spoke softly, the same longing she felt, clear in its words.

“Do you know who that is?” Irene asked, not hoping to receive an answer.

“No. I have no idea who she is or was. All I know is, that the memory had that name attached to it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She let go of the feelings that stirred in her and stood up. Her face an expressionless mask once more.

“I could never understand why you keep lying to yourself.” This time, there was accusation in the voice. “But, if that is what you wish, I am not going to stop you.”

She looked at the clear night sky and the pale moon. It was true, but there was nothing she could do about it. The memories, before she became a Witch Hunter, brought her nothing but pain. It was for a reason she had forgotten most of them. The smell of cooked meat told her that the food was ready and she made her way towards the fire and the other two mysteries.

“Aren’t you going to wake that one?”

“Later. After I eat.” Irene smiled at the youth passed out on the ground. “He should be safe… For now.”

Nathaniel awoke to the sound of screaming. Opening his eyes, he was blinded by the bright light of the campfire. However, he could not just stand idly, while something horrible happened around him. The young man jumped to his feet, only to be forced back down by a wave of vertigo and nausea.

“It’s just the call of Screamers.” A calm voice said to his side. “You don’t need to worry; the carrion eaters are quite far away.”

This was the voice of the Witch Hunter; he realised a moment later. She had goaded him into a fight and then she had… Kissed him! Nathaniel felt his face turn scarlet. Had she no shame? Only harlots and prostitutes behaved in such a say and it was not something he had expected from a Witch Hunter.

“You… You did… Why did you…” He had no idea what to say. His thoughts an utter mess.

“I won.” She giggled. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over it.”

“That was...” Nathaniel shook his head and blinked several times to clear his vision. “What was that?” He turned his head to look at the Witch Hunter.

Sitting not far from him, she looked stunning bathed in the orange glow of the fire. Irene was the very picture of beauty, yet there was an air of coldness to her. It only added to her charm, but it also made her look distant and sad. Perhaps, it was only right, Nathaniel thought. After all, she was a Witch Hunter and no longer had a place amongst normal people. She would spend her life protecting them from monsters in the darkness. Maybe he was too harsh in his judgment of her behaviour.

“I won.” She spoke softly, her emerald eyes not leaving the fire. “I’ll give you that. You have potential, but you have to learn that a fight is never fair. To win, to survive, one must use any advantage they can get their hands on.”

Or his first opinion of the woman was correct. Sometimes the means did not justify the end. This was the main difference between humans and the monsters of the Wilds. Not the mindless beasts, but those that could think and reason. The true monsters. It was a lesson humanity had learned long ago and kept re-learning. Just as he did during his time spent on the various ships. Irene through a small cloth bundle at his feet.

“Don’t be afraid, it’s just an herbal poultice I bought from the market in Esthergrad.” She snapped a twig in two and threw it in the fire. “It should help with the swelling.”

“You didn’t have to kick me so hard,” Nathaniel grumbled and undid the bundle. The smell was revolting, to the point he could taste it.

“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t remember this lesson.” She stood up and stretched. “It’s time to wake your friends.”

He had been out for way longer than he had thought. Nathaniel looked around to see Paul snoring softly nearby. How he had not heard the Screamer’s cry, amazed him as much as made him want to kick the Ranger.

“We should reach Esthergrad by dusk,” Irene said and walked to the witch. For a moment she loomed over the sleeping Helen, her hand caressing the handle of the knife on her belt. He could only guess what thoughts passed through her head when she decided to push the young woman with the tip of her boot.

“Ugh…” Helen curled and opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and dark circles had formed around them. Nathaniel realised she must have cried herself to sleep and felt sorry for her.

She might be a witch, but as far as he knew, she had not harmed anyone. The girl hadn’t lied either. She was being chased, but not by thugs. Nathaniel cursed himself for not putting the two together. Irene knew Helen from the moment she rescued her from that tree. Which meant that the Witch Hunter had spared her life once before.

Trying to figure the reason behind this occupied Nathaniel’s mind throughout the day. The trek through the bog was, for the most part, uneventful and neither he nor Paul in the mood for conversation. The only threat the group had to endure was from the constant harassment by clouds of mosquitos that had made a home around the pools of stale water and tall grass.

By the time the sun rolled down and reached the horizon, Nathaniel could spot the town’s lookout towers, peaking over the line of trees. Once behind Esthergrad’s stone walls, he would need to have a word with Paul. The Ranger had insisted that they had to go further north for another day, before turning east. Instead, the Witch Hunter had led them southwest. If he had listened to his friend, both of them and Helen would have ventured further into the Wilds.

Suddenly the witch stopped. Her face turned pale and her eyes grew wide. A soundless scream formed on her lips. The only part Nathaniel could make out was a single “No.”

“Yes,” Irene spoke in turn and turned to face the young witch. “This is as far as you go. I have to say, you have gathered quite the crowd in your shadow.”

Nathaniel could swear he saw movement in the shadow the girl cast on the ground. But was it because the Witch Hunter had pointed it out or just his mind playing tricks on him? There were no monsters or beasts he had heard off, that could do something like that. However, this was a witch. There was no telling what manner of horror she could conjure.

“It would have been interesting to solve the mystery surrounding you.” The great sword sang as it split the air and removed Helen’s head from her shoulders.

“What!” Nathaniel exclaimed, while Paul jumped like a startled animal and confronted the Witch Hunter.

“Why did you do that?” The young Ranger yelled, his hand frozen half-way to the hilt of the gladius. “Why save her, when you were going to kill her anyway?!”

“Because it made my job of keeping you two idiots safe, less hard.” Irene shrugged and dropped the leather satchel she had been carrying over her shoulder.

Nathaniel’s mind raced. He was trying to make sense of what had occurred. Was the bag always with the Witch Hunter and how had he missed it? If he had, what else were his eyes hiding from him? No. Now was not the time for such questions. He had to keep his focus. Every instinct in him screamed that something horrible was about to happen. He stopped his gaze on Paul and his challenging stance. No, his friend was not that stupid to actually attack Irene Navina over a dead witch. He focused his attention on their surroundings while listening to the Witch Hunter’s calm explanation.

“Do you know why witches walk undisturbed through the Wilds? Don’t bother to answer.” She paused to examine the large hook she had pulled from the bag. “None of the beasts would attack one of their kind. For they attract a different kind of monsters. And those who have not yet signed a contract with the denizens of the infernal realm, are swarmed by such foul spirits.”

Irene pushed the hook through Helen’s mouth. The sound of the iron crushing the roof of the mouth made Nathaniel tremble. “While she was close, only the most primal and primitive creatures would dare to get close. Things like the bleeder vine and the porcupine bear.”

“And as much as I dislike witches and their infernal companions,” the word dropped like bile from Irene’s mouth, while she wrapped a thick stained linen cloth around the head and attached the hook to the back of her belt, “I share no love for spirits either.”

The Witch Hunter stood up and stared at Paul. All Nathaniel could think of was how unreal everything seemed. This had to be a nightmare conjured by his mind. He was still asleep on the clearing after Irene had kicked him in the head. He had to be. How else could he explain why his body was frozen, refusing to move.

“A good mystery needs to be solved. But there are also those that need to be buried and forgotten. Especially when they place someone as convenient as you in my path.” Before the last word left her mouth, Irene slid her knife between Paul’s ribs and pierced his heart.