To lose himself in the crowd was easy. It was slightly more difficult to reach the harbour, even as Nate ran with all speed, he had to constantly navigate the narrow gaps left between the gathered onlookers. All the while he looked over his shoulder to make sure the pretty lady was chasing after him. A part of him felt miserable that he had stolen her coin, however, it was his only chance of escaping his mother. He had been pocketing coins here and there for quite some time and kept them hidden near the wharf. It would be risky to go there while the sun still hung on the horizon, but thankfully, everyone in Lychea was more interested in seeing the God Slayer, than pay attention to Nate.

A few minutes later and the small purse, neatly tucked in the crevasse between the polished rocks was in his hands. To call it a fortune was too much even for the boy, but it was his fortune. Two dozen wet silver coins and a couple of sand crabs, which had made a home in the leather pouch, clung on the sea-weed covered blocks of the wharf. It was barely enough to buy him a spot on one of the boats and definitely not enough for the meals he would need. However, Nate was not scared to work for his food. The only issue, he could think of was how to convince the captain to let him on board without a word with his mother.

Like one of the many stray cats around him, Nate stalked the anchored boats. Save for a sailor here and there, standing guard, there was no sign that any would be setting sail any time soon. Finally, he spotted a commotion around the last one in the long line, an inconspicuous barque clipper. Men pushed carts and tugged on ropes as they loaded precious cargo in its hold. At a first glance, the boat looked like nothing special, but the boy had worked with the dock’s cleaning crews since he was five and could recognise a smuggler’s ship when he saw one. And if the rough-looking guards were not a dead giveaway, the speed with which the sailors loaded the heavy crates and barrels, covered by dirty green tarps, was a dead giveaway. In that case, Nate could use this information to negotiate they take him with them.

Carefully the boy approached the anchored ship, trying to both sneak and not startle any of the posted guards, by making himself visible. The end result of his efforts was a mess, which only invoked amused chuckles by the hardened sailors. It reached a point where all work stopped and the men observed the boy as he pretended to walk towards them without looking in their direction. To Nate, it was obvious he was doing quite a good job at approaching the smugglers in a nonchalant way, almost as if he stumbled at them by accident.

“Oi!” An angry bark sounded from the ship’s deck and a man in a long coat and a long unwieldy mane on his head stepped on the balustrade. “Who gave’ya permission to stop workin’?!”

“Cap’n, sir,” one guard, a scary-looking man with a savage scar crossing his face, flinched and spoke in a hurry, “t’is this brat, sir. The men were curious to see what he’s wanting…”

“I’ll deal with’ya later, Gordon,” the captain barked again and leaned over the balustrade and for a moment Nate though he was going to tumble over. “Yous lot, get back to workin’ before I use ya’ all for bait! And you kid, what’ya want? Who’s send ya?”

Nate stiffened like as a board as he squeaked. “No one, sir captain… sir…” The scarred man had used these words, so the boy thought it was the mandatory way to address the captain of the vessel. Not that he had any chances to talk with a captain before. “I’s here to buy a passage on your fine boat, captain sir… captain.”

His words made the gathered sailors burst into roaring laughter. This surprised Nate and he struggled to think what he had said wrong. What was it the beautiful lady had said? Try to speak proper. But all sailors spoke like that and what better way to endear himself to them, but by adopting how they spoke. Taking a deep breath, the boy fought down his embracement and addressed the captain once more. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene.

“Captain, I wish to pay for a spot on your ship.” It felt odd to talk in this way. Only select few of his mother’s companion would use such words when they told Nate he had to spend the night outside.

“Did’ya hear that men? Ain’t that some high-class lad we’s got ‘ere?” The captain chuckled and fixed Nate with his piercing blue eyes. “That’d be thirty shiners kid. I doubt there’s such coin on ya scrawny ass.”

Well, that got the man’s attention, and it only made the boy feel worse for stealing the coin from the kind woman. But the world does not reward kindness. Only those who could take what they wanted succeed. He had learned that lesson while working on the docs.

“I have coin,” Nate was startled by how high-peached his voice sounded in the sudden quiet. He dangled the purse in his hand for the scarred man to see, hoping the amount inside was close to what was demanded of him. “I am strong and quick. I will work the difference.”

“Well, the Blue mermaid take me!” The captain exclaimed.

“On it, cap’n…”

“Did I’s tell ya an order, Gordon?” The man barked at the scarred sailor. “Ya’s my First Mate, but that don’t mean ya can read my mind, now does it?”

“No, cap’n, sir,” Gordon stopped and looked for support from the other sailors. None dared to look at the man, preferring to focus on their tasks instead.

“And don’t ya forget that! Now bring that there lad to me. He wants to talk and I’d be a poor capt’n if I don’t listen to what he’s got to say.”

“But Kassebian, he’s just a scrawny street rat!” The First Mate protested. “I’ve seen tougher barnacles on Molly’s hull than him.”

“Gordon,” the captain smiled, “I’ve taken a liking to the lad. ‘Sides, we need someone to chase the rat’s down in the hold.”

Molly’s Smile was a temperamental boat at the best of times. The last storm had only managed to piss her off and she was taking out on the crew. Nate could feel her foul mood in the way the planks of her deck moaned as the sailing master tried to force her to keep a steady heading. Poor Oliver was doing his best, but Molly was not eager to listen and constantly pulled to starboard. It did not help that the rocks they barely evaded had damaged the stern and the crew were doing their best to patch the nasty wound and stop the cargo hold from flooding.

To make matters worse, Kassebian refused to listen to reason and insisted they continue their journey to Issika. The damned island was no place for dissent smugglers. And the crew of Molly’s Smile although no saints did not belong to the bottom feeders who called it home. Nate and the others had smuggled the occasional shipment of opiates, but their main source of income came from the booze they slipped past the Protectorate of Thibe and into the Lech Islands, where such luxuries were forbidden. The majority of their customers there were among the ranks of the ruling noble houses, the irony of this was not lost to Nate.

However, Issika was a different matter. It offered safe harbour to pirates, slave traders, outlaws, oathbreakers and worse. This much was common knowledge even if the lords of the small island denied it officially. There were also rumours about certain areas being given away to witch covenants and as insane as such a thought was, the vehement refusal of the current Lord Counsel to allow entry to Witch Hunters was boggling the mind. There was no real reason for Molly’s Smile to sail near that place.

It couldn’t be because of money. Sure, they were not filthy rich, but crew members were well compensated for their loyal labour. Yet, Kassebian refused to budge and had even raised his hand against Nate. Something the old man had not done in nearly ten years. In a way, it was the logical conclusion of a decade filled with small misfortunes. Every time lady luck, that fickle bitch, smiled at them, it was followed by some disaster. At least that’s how some among the crew saw it. The few who were there from the day Nate joined, the old bloods as they were called, had a different view on life.

But it was these events that had made the young foolish ten-year-old boy into a frightening young man. He had become a proper fighter, as skilled as they came, his body growing strong and firm from the constant hard labour the barque clipper required. His polite, yet cold, demeanour was seen as intimidating and Nate had only expanded upon this aspect through the years. Now, a single word from him was enough to stop any dispute or questioning of the orders the captain issued. Which was also why he felt conflicted about what was about to happen.

Kassebian was more of a parent to the boy than his own mother was, and he had all but adopted the young man. This was why Nate was going to give the old seadog one more chance to see reason. The youth stopped at the door and traced his fingers around the burn mark on his left collarbone. It was an odd habit of his, when he was nervous, the last reminder of the coin which had changed his life. If there was one thing he regrated in his life, it was stealing the precious item from that gorgeous woman. Not a day went by without him recalling her face and wishing he could apologise and thank her. It was because of her carelessness that he could live the life he wanted. Had he not lost the original coin, he would have liked to return it one day. But that was only wishful thinking. The silver disk was somewhere at the bottom of the sea.

Taking one last moment to put his thoughts in order, Nate pushed the door and spoke. “Captain, I want to talk to…” Before he understood what was going on, the young man was sailing through the dark room. The far wall stopped his movement just as the door slammed.

“I told ya barnacles not to enter me quarters without my permission!” Kassebian’s voice boomed. “That goes for ya too, my boy. Ya better have a damn good reason to ignore my orders, boy.” There might be more grey in his hair and beard, but the captain’s threats could not be taken lightly. A former pirate and a successful smuggler with more brushes with death than Nate felt comfortable to remember, the captain could best him with one hand tied behind his back.

“That boy is dangerous, dear. Please, get him out of here this very moment!” A female voice hissed from behind Kassebian. There were no women aboard Molly’s Smile, which meant that the old seadog was doing some personal smuggling of his own. It did not take long for the youth to put two and two together and realise that this unknown woman was the reason they were sailing towards Issika.

“Can’t ya do your thing and make him forget he ever saw ya?”

“Not to him, darling,” the woman paused and Nate saw her for a moment as the old man turned around to glare at her. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Dark skinned and dressed in a tightly fitting white dress, she somehow stood out from the shadows enveloping the cabin.

Careful not to make sudden moves, Nate stood up and placed a hand on the weapon hanging from his belt. Unlike the others, who preferred more traditional blades, his was a strange exotic variant of a machete sword. The blade was rectangular and made of an unknown metal, none on the ship had ever seen before, and a beautifully carved ivory serpent decorated the balanced grip. More than a few had tried to buy or steal the weapon from him, but as long as he drew breath, Nate was never going to relinquish it. Whenever he was in danger, the handle would grow warmer in his hand, and right now it is burning his skin.

“Kassebian, don’t,” Nate said calmly as he saw the old man reach for the parang on the table. It was a nasty thing with a hooked tip and covered in dry blood.

“My boy, I love ya like a son, ya know that?” The captain spoke with a fake smile on his lips. “I’ve neve’ led ya astray. I know it’s the others who’s send ya here to talk some sense into this old fool. But ‘ear me out, my boy. It’s a great offer I’ma make ya. You’s going to listen to me, ok?”

The young man nodded; his eyes fixed on the man who had raised him. “This here be Samantha of the Three-fingered Hand.” The coin dropped and Nate’s body tightened like a spring. This woman was a witch. “We need only take her and her kind sisters to Issika. Ya have my word, boy. Help me and I’ll share the promised immortality with ya…”

Nate was an ambitious person, there was no denying that. However, this did not mean he was stupid. Making a deal with a witch, he would sooner trust a mermaid he could breathe underwater than believe any word their kind says.

“No!” The woman screamed and raised her hand to reveal the dagger hidden in the sleeve of her dress. “The boy is marked! He is anathema to the dwellers in the shadows! Kill him now!”

The world around him slowed to a crawl as he exhaled. It always did when he entered combat. Perhaps something was wrong with him, but no one in their right mind would share such a secret with others. Doing so would be the fastest path to an early grave. Nate saw the dagger fly in his direction and the captain lunge for the parang. Despite his advancing age, the old man was fast. The youth had to act now if he hoped to stand a chance in this fight.

Nate exploded into action. Not wasting time, he jumped forward, using his left arm as a shield against the projectile. In his current detached state, it was easy to ignore the pain of the iron blade piercing his forearm. The young man’s momentum carried him forward and he collided with Kassebian. Pinning him to the ground for but a moment, the youth drove his knee into the veteran’s groin. Without bothering to confirm the result of his attack, Nate swooped the witch’s left leg with his right arm. The next part was going to be painful. Using the dagger embedded in his forearm as an improvised weapon, he pushed the handle into the captain’s eye, leaning on the limb with all his weight. Possessed by madness and driven by desperation, Nate crawled over the screaming man and strode atop the terrified witch.

Samantha clawed at his face and neck, as she tried to push him away. Killing her with one hand was impossible. However, the youth had to find a way, before Kassebian could retaliate. An idea flashed in his mind and the second the witch tried to blind him with her fingers, he bit the slender digits. Nate could taste the warm blood as his teeth reached the bone. This gave him the opening he needed to finally release his weapon from its prison on his belt and drag the metal edge across Samantha’s chest, neck and face in one swift motion. The burning pain in his hand increased and the world went black.

When Nate regained his reason, he was standing on the deck of Molly’s Smile with the head of his adoptive father in his wounded hand and the head of the witch in the other. The captain’s parang stuck out from his side and the youth spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with human meat.

Only Gordon dared to approach him from the gathered sailors, fear and horror warring in the scarred man’s eyes. “Nate, lad… What’d ya do?”

“Gordon,” Nate paused to fight down the wave of pain spreading through his body, “order a change of course. We are sailing to Ixi. A witch has boarded our vessel. Have her body… Have her body nailed to the main mast. Four… Four people are to guard it… all tine... Place the… the head in a fishing net… and keep it overboard… submerged, Gordon…”

This had to do until they reached Ixi and someone who actually knew how to kill a witch.

“Four years! Four bloody years and not a single Witch Hunter has answered our requests for aid!” Lord Mathew yelled at the gathered Executioners.

Only a few years back, the newly created radical group within Ixi’s Dusk Brigade, was at best considered a poorly planned joke. They were seen as nothing more than a tool with which the masters of the island nation to enforce their will. With the increased pressure from the witches who controlled Issika and the neighbouring islands, people weren’t laughing any longer. Nate risked a glance at the other squad leaders, kneeling in front of the leader of Ixi. No one looked too eager to provide an answer. What could they say that had not been said a hundred times over? For all they knew, the requests they sent never reached the Frozen Keep.

Nate had offered solutions before, but they were rejected without a second thought. He could not blame, after all, they distrusted him or outright blamed him for this turn of events. It was Nate who delivered the news that smugglers were ferrying witches to Issika for years. Including Molly’s Smile, a vessel to which he used to belong. Half the crew had been executed, the barque clipper torched and its cargo left at the bottom of the sea, while the young man suffered through the infection Kassebian’s parang had caused. An entire year of torture as each day the surgeons cut away necrotic flesh from his flank. It was only when he translated his adoptive father’s journal, revealing his crimes, that did they start to treat his wound. At least lord Mathew had seen reason and allowed the sailor to join the ranks of the Executioners as they searched door by door for anyone suspected of witchcraft.

Four years to the day, and they were no closer to securing Ixi’s future than they were back then. One by one the other lords had fallen to the curses of the covenants. Slowly, the very life of the land was being chocked away. For every witch burned at the pyres, ten innocents had to be sacrificed. Hundreds were imprisoned in the dungeons on mere suspicion alone, and there were not enough torturers and interrogators to prove they were free of guilt.

“Why?” The master of Ixi asked, demanding an answer from his Executioners.

Nate could see it on the other squad leaders’ faces, they were expecting him to address lord Mathew and become the sacrifice that would save their skin. He was going to speak, alright, but they were not going to like his words. It was time for things to change and Nate had plenty of time to prepare.

“My lord,” he stood up, placing his hand on the blade he had used to kill the first witch he had encountered and all the others after that, “Ixi has been isolated for generations. Dealing in the bare minimum of trade with its neighbours. The other lords, may the spirits guide their souls, severed all ties with the mainland. I asked them, as I ask you now, evacuate the population…”

“No!” Mathew screamed. “I will tolerate no talk of spirits in my presence! Your heretical faith is allowed only because you have produced great results in our efforts to eradicate the cancer that are the covenants. But mark my words, Executioner Nate, the Gods of the Sea will claim you, just as they claimed the Wilds of Ixi.”

The stubborn bastard refused to see reason. Their so-called gods were nothing but old spirits, Nate knew this, as he knew the tide would come with the rising moon. The Ixian people were not the first to make this mistake, but they were the only ones to never accept the truth.

“Then what do you want from us?” Nate was not backing down this time. However, he would not let anger blind him and distract him from his goal. The young man was going to survive this ordeal and would anything to save Sherry. She was the only reason he had not stolen a finishing boat to get away from this doomed island.

“You send out ship after ship to the Frozen north. Do you even have any idea how long would it take to reach the citadel of the Witch Hunters? Do you have any idea if anyone would actually reach it? You don’t, but I do.” He continued levelly. “Sixteen months, if the winds are favourable, and that is if they don’t encounter a damn kraken out in the ocean.”

“You will stay your tongue, heretic!” Lord Mathew was foaming at the mouth.

“No.” The refusal shocked the throne room into silence. “I ask you one last time, my lord. Listen to reason and save your people.” Nate looked at the other squad leaders. “Don’t bother issuing pointless threats. I am the best death dealer in this room.” He nodded and two more Executioner stood up. “And I am not alone in my conviction.”

Anything Mathew had to say was made mute, as at that moment the double door of the throne room flung open and a guard nearly slid to his knees in his hurry to enter.

“My Lord! A Witch Hunter! A Witch Hunter has arrived!”

This was surprising, to say the least. Before Nate could formulate an exit strategy from the hole, he had just dug for himself, a brooding woman, with a curious man by her side, strode in as if this was her rightful place. Briefly, Nate entertained the idea that he might be cursed, for such a misfortune to happen at such a crucial moment. Although defining the arrival of much-needed help in such a way was unfair.

“My Lord, honoured Executioners, allow me to present Lady Ire of the Witch Hunters,” the guard said without hiding his annoyance that the woman had not given him the time to assume his role as protocol demanded.

“Sleep.” The blonde man next to the Hunter said with a wave of his hand and all save Nate fell like puppets with their strings cut. Familiar heat warmed his skin as the pair stepped closer.

“This is the one?” Lady Ire asked.

“Yes. He is the one who set all of this in motion. The child has Uther’s mark on him, but not the artefact. Had he not stolen the coin from Alice, the one you call Irene, the Conduit would have survived and the long dispute would have been settled.”

“Who are you?” Nate demanded, preparing himself for the inevitable conflict that was about to happen. Although he had no idea what the blonde man was talking about, for the most part, it was clear they were not here to help Ixi.

“You, child, were supposed to be a nobody. However, your impulsive decision to take the artefact of Uther, made you an important piece in a conflict as old as time.” The man stopped a dozen paces from him. “Usually, your compliance or agreement would not be required when there is so much at stake, however, you have willingly taken the mark of Uther on your skin.” He tapped his left collarbone.

“Through this act and the influence of the infernal realm, you have become a bane to the existence of spirits and demons alike.” There was sadness in the man’s voice. “You have become free to shape your own life. A dangerous power to have.”

“Young man, we…” The Witch Hunter hesitated. “No, I ask for your help. There is a poison within my order. Although you are not to blame for this, you are a part of the problem. I… I need you to be the solution as well.” There was a lot this Lady Ire was hiding.

The woman took a deep breath, however, Nate noticed that her body shifted to better suit the scythe dangling on her shoulder. If she did not like his answer to her next words, things would turn bloody and he did not fancy his chances of besting a Witch Hunter.

“The God Slayer has fallen to darkness. I need your unique talents if I am to kill her.” Nate’s understanding of the world crumbled. The icon of all that was good, the pinnacle of human strength, the avatar of perfection had turned away from the light the spirits offered. “Name your price.”

Unnatural calm spread through him. Was this not his chance to save Sherry? Was not this the hope he was waiting for the last two years? But would he live long enough to enjoy a future with the woman he loved? Would there be any future for him if he refused? Hundreds more question flooded his mind until there was only a single thought left. A conviction. He would do this, because he loved the girl and above anything else wanted for her to have a future free of pain and suffering.

“What will happen to Ixi?” Nate asked.

It was the blonde man who answered without so much as giving the question any thought. “Sacrifices need to be made.”

“Sherry, save her and I will aid you.”

“Thank you,” Lady Ire lowered her head, an unthinkable gesture of gratitude for a Witch Hunter.

“You have my word as a Guardian spirit,” the blonde man spoke in a melodic voice so very different from the cold one he had been using to this point. “The one you call Sherry, shall be offered salvation, in exchange for your unquestionable assistance in ridding this mortal world of Alice Tetradon. Thus, a contract is formed and its bond shall be absolute.”