The Hunter
Sabbah E’Leuhsia-Kalesh-son Lord Redeemer was a patient man, a patience born of a certainty of a fate hidden to most mortals. That his death was a foretold certainty was not disputed, nor his fate beyond that seeming end, only that his thread would not be cut by any mortal hand before that ordained by his God, of this he was certain.
He was a hunter, his Lords Redeemer, and he hunted by the grace of his God. His prey would not be allowed the luxury of making their escape by the simple fact of his death. He was not inured to dying, far from it, the pain was near unbearable. But to see the look in their eyes as he whispered in their ear, softly touched the warm skin of their neck, whole and unharmed after they thought they were free was a pleasure that bordered on the erotic.
But, such pleasures must wait. He was first to find this girl, this waif of a woman who had escaped from her captivity to run so far as to leave her trail cold amid the frozen wastes. That, of course, was what had saved her. He almost had her. He had followed easily, her tracks plain to see in the new fallen snow. But then the blizzard had come, swirling masses of snow that blinded and obscured her tracks.
Now, to be summoned into his presence was obscene. It wasn’t that he was humiliated to admit his mistake; the misfortune of her escape was nothing more than one of the less than calamitous events that he took as essential to his profession. Once finished and his mind free to reflect on such due rewards, this mage’s end would be something to weigh should he continue to be such an irascible little prick.
Still, he smiled; he had found events thus far to be most enjoyable. She had proved to be more capable that he first thought. He might even regret her end, as he ripped her soul from her still living body. But, as much as he might feel remorse for the death of a formidable adversary, his God demanded his due. Eventually, it is to Him he must bow, of that there was no escape...for him...or for her.
Sabbah E’Leuhsia-Kalesh-son Lord Redeemer was a patient man, a patience born of a certainty of a fate hidden to most mortals. That his death was a foretold certainty was not disputed, nor his fate beyond that seeming end, only that his thread would not be cut by any mortal hand before that ordained by his God, of this he was certain.
He was a hunter, his Lords Redeemer, and he hunted by the grace of his God. His prey would not be allowed the luxury of making their escape by the simple fact of his death. He was not inured to dying, far from it, the pain was near unbearable. But to see the look in their eyes as he whispered in their ear, softly touched the warm skin of their neck, whole and unharmed after they thought they were free was a pleasure that bordered on the erotic.
But, such pleasures must wait. He was first to find this girl, this waif of a woman who had escaped from her captivity to run so far as to leave her trail cold amid the frozen wastes. That, of course, was what had saved her. He almost had her. He had followed easily, her tracks plain to see in the new fallen snow. But then the blizzard had come, swirling masses of snow that blinded and obscured her tracks.
Now, to be summoned into his presence was obscene. It wasn’t that he was humiliated to admit his mistake; the misfortune of her escape was nothing more than one of the less than calamitous events that he took as essential to his profession. Once finished and his mind free to reflect on such due rewards, this mage’s end would be something to weigh should he continue to be such an irascible little prick.
Still, he smiled; he had found events thus far to be most enjoyable. She had proved to be more capable that he first thought. He might even regret her end, as he ripped her soul from her still living body. But, as much as he might feel remorse for the death of a formidable adversary, his God demanded his due. Eventually, it is to Him he must bow, of that there was no escape...for him...or for her.
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