Sanctum Polis - The Talgen

The TalgenQuadrangle Games Presents:

Written By: Luis Velasco Quadrangle Games, Inc. © 2014 All Rights Reserved

Talgara knelt over, beaten and cold. Wind stabbed into her as she clutched onto

her scarf. The warmth had been lost as her fingers slowly became numb. The blizzard

smashed into her with each new wave. There was no end to this maelstrom. She could

hear her mother’s voice telling her of it. How it claimed Hunter and demon alike. How all

who entered were swallowed whole, never to be seen again. The Dyagarad, the one true

blizzard.

Still, Talgara forced herself onto her feet. She needed to move forward. There was no

failure at this point. No demon could stop her. She’d be damned if a storm bested her. So

Talgara pressed on, letting her feet move in creaks and painful numbing. Soon she could feel

nothing --- only seeing forward onto the shine of something off in the distance. She forced

her fingers to move. Off the handle of her hand cannon they reached forward. She had to

reach it. Talgara moved, her goal in sight. All the while the blackness of oblivion crept along

the edges of her vision.

Far off in the mountains of old Brel, when magic still ran through the veins of Diurne

and demons ravaged the land, rested a snow-torn village known as Ecurek. The sharp

cold and piercing wind sculpted the residents in both body and mind. They were deemed

Hunters. Those tasked with the job of ridding the world of demons. The Hunters of Ecurek

were known throughout the land as the best. Those magically gifted enough to hunt down

the terrors of this world. Among them was a young kitsune, named Talgara.

This young fox was coated in fur as gold as the new day’s first light with red patterns

painted along her skin like freshly caught flames running in unpredictable patterns across

her body. Her strength burned with similar intensity. Born a Hunter, Talgara swiftly became

the strongest among them. The chief’s daughter, she led with the grace of a gentle flame

and fought with the intensity of a newborn star. As she grew, Talgara took the helm of her

band of Hunters, and her fame grew with each new victory. Children all over Brel would rest

their heads to stories of the young fox with four tails who overthrew the wicked Lurador,

with one shot from her hand cannon. Even Demons spoke of her in yells of rage for

vengeance.

Talgara, however, was not all fire and brawn nor did she spend all her nights training

her body to handle new feats of strength. No, Talgara held a love for something far

rarer in a village of Hunters: knowledge. Books and pages filled with histories long past,

exaggerated legends, and mysteries of the mind. From the small collection of books she had

gathered from traveling merchants, Talgara taught herself about the world, and longed to

delve more into it. However, she was her mother’s daughter, and therefore the future leader

of the Hunters of Ecurek.--allowed to travel only when vanquishing. Guiding the village

through the harshest of winters; She was bound to this land, and it was bound to her.

Prologue - Chapter 00 - Page 02



One day, a young stallion found his way into Ecurek, drawn there by stories of a

Hunter fox with a presence as bright as the sun. As a traveler, he owned only two things in

the entire world: a scarf made of thread that warmed you in the sharpest of blizzards and

cooled you in the harshest of summers, and a lute made of wood and string that somehow

carried the song of the wind when struck by his fingers. His name was Clen and he was no

fighter. His hands were not built for force nor his voice for battle cries. No, Clen used his

hands to play music and his words to write songs. His legs carried him throughout the world,

for its mysteries to learn and stories to tell. That day they had carried him there, through the

harsh blizzards of Brel, to find something new.

As a bard and stranger, Clen was given the hospitality expected of such a renowned

village in exchange for a few songs to brighten the tavern that night. He happily agreed and

simply asked for a warm place to rest his head as he tuned his lute. A travel pack almost

as large as the horse himself rested on the table next to him. Notes floated around as he

plucked each string in turn. Talgara sat at the bar of the tavern, watching the small horse. He

seemed half the size of anyone within the tavern. Then again, most would be smaller than

any trained Hunter. Either way, Talgara could not help but smirk as a large red fox bumped

into him in a drunken uproar.

With a squeal that Talgara had never heard any living thing make before, Clen fell

to his side, knocking the travel pack onto the floor. Papers and books of all kind spilled

out, filled with handwritten markings and pages that seemed older than any she had ever

seen. The burly fox that had bumped into him began to apologize in good humor until his

eyes seemed to catch something. From where she sat, Talgara could not see what was so

interesting.

“Could you please,” Clen protested as the fox grabbed at the pages hungrily.

“Talgara,” the fox yelled. “Looks like she has garnished some fame. This horse has

a song for her.” The Ecureki in the tavern all cheered in unison. Talgara herself arched an

eyebrow.

This wasn’t the first time a proud young bard had tried to write a song about her. Of

course, she often led the Hunter’s into battle, yet somehow each song never mentioned

more than her. Each time the verses would be sung, they proved to be nothing more than

hero worship, something Talgara was not fond of. For when a demon was slain, that was the

victory of Ecurek. Not the spoils of any one of them. For they were family, and though she

may have been the head, Talgara was nothing without the other Hunters who followed her

into battle.

However, not everyone was of the same mindset. To some a song of glory for one

meant a song of glory for all. Now these same Hunters urged Clen to play this song.

“I cannot,” Clen said. “It is nothing more than a few strung together verses. I came

here to try and find out more.”

None paid him any heed. Instead alcohol infused enthusiasm pushed Clen onto the

stage. His eyes wandered back and forth. His hands shook. Talgara watched as the frail

A Spark - Chapter 01 - Page 04



looking horse sighed. She took a large swig of her drink and prepared to listen.

Clen’s voice wove in and out of notes as words faded into melodies. The tavern was

filled with curved smiles as his voice carried through notes that felt like the whistling of cool

wind through the mountain side. As his fingers ran across his lute, the notes punctuated

against Talgara’s skin. His words spoke of a kitsune, who felled mighty demons. Who had

the appearance of fire. Who stood taller and larger than any mountain. It made her laugh as

did others.

As he sung, Clen’s voice shook. She could tell that he was unsure of the song. Rather

than boastful pride, Clen sung with a humility of a Hunter’s first hunt. Uncertain and anxious.

He had said that the song was unfinished. Yet still the crowd roared. Apparently the liquor

made them more easily accepting. He provided entertainment, and they responded in kind.

Talgara eyed the horse as he got tossed back and forth by those twice his size at

minimum. A laugh leapt from her lips as one drunken boar hoisted Clen onto his shoulder,

turning the melodic lyrics into an alcohol fueled chant. His body swayed. His voice cried out.

Yet no aid came as the Hunters raised their flagons to join in the loud chorus of song.

Eventually, Clen’s hooves found the ground, although they slipped from under him

a few times before he caught his balance. The crowd guided Clen towards the bar where

Talgara sat. His eyes flew back and forth taking in scenery like a newborn. They had even

found Talgara herself once or twice, yet seemed to take no notice. Perhaps the horse did not

recognize her? An odd thought about one who had taken the time to create lyrics about her

prowess. Then again, all too often she knew that the one told of in stories and the one of

Ecurek were rarely similarly described. So with a sly curve of her lips, Talgara decided to play

with the small horse.

“Quite a large voice,” Talgara began. “For one so small.” Clen turned his head to find

the source of the words, but fell just short of actually seeing her.

“And I have never seen one quite as minute as you, Little Horse.” Talgara waved to

grab his attention.

“Well, I’ve been told-” Clen stammered as he jostled over to the fox. “I’ve been told

that the voice can sometimes be larger than any mountain. Or so I’ve always believed.” His

words carried music, yet his voice shook until he stood next to Talgara, where others had left

a small patch of space for her four tails.

“That can be true,” Talgara smiled. “Yet it makes it no less amusing.” She laughed as

Clen’s skin darkened just enough to be noticed.

“Amusement is the job of a bard,” Clen said. “So at least I have done my job for the

night. Although I must admit it was not that hard considering the strong scent of liquor

combing the air.”

Talgara motioned for Clen to come closer as her smile widened. “Well it is natural for

a Hunter to celebrate a victory over the foul scourge of demon kind. And nothing screams

victory as drinking to excess with your brothers and sisters in arms.”

As her words mentioned victory, Clen took on the face of a child. Awestruck,




questioning, and begging to know more,as if he had walked into the beginning of one of his

own heroic stories. Yet almost as immediately she saw that wonder begin to be reined in as

his face attempted to calm.

“Even you yourself had a song of glory to sing, did you not?” Talgara urged the horse

on, wondering would make him reserve his excitement.

“Oh that.” Clen’s voice shook once more. “Unfortunately that was not nearly ready to

be heard, but as a bard, I must give the crowd what they want.”

Talgara just watched him, her initial thoughts of mischief leaning more toward

curiosity as he spoke.

“You see,” Clen continued, as he rummaged through his pack. The papers and books

now clumped together in odd ways. “I have been traveling to gather information. Each story

I have collected has been more fanciful than the last. Fantasy is all well and good, yet I

desire truth. Rather than the Talgara I hear in stories, I desire to understand the Talgara that

truly exists. That is what initially brought me to the village, but so far I have had no luck.”

The horse let out a sigh as he placed parchment littered with notes and diagrams.

They were all well-worn from use. Talgara furrowed her brow at his words. They were

not those of some prideful youth, hoping to claim recognition for his fantastic stories.

Clen’s words were of one similar to Talgara herself. A seeker of knowledge. Someone who

wondered about the world in the same way she had.

For once, Talgara took a moment to look Clen over. Although weak in appearance,

she noticed his hands as they flipped through papers to show her. Hands with callouses that

spoke of nights spent painfully plucking a chord. Hands that curled with precise movement

without so much as a wasted thought. That’s where she saw strength--a strength of creation.

Talgara did not interrupt as Clen rambled on into stories of the world that brought him

to Ecurek. Instead she listened intently to the words that spoke of lands she had yet to see,

and histories she had yet to read. She found her lips curled in a genuine smile as the horse

spoke, a gleam of intensity in his eyes.

“-that brings me to this last village where-,” Clen paused mid thought and looked up. “I

just realized, I never got your name.”

“I believe you may already know,” Talgara said, leaning back in her seat.

Clen stared at her in confusion, until his eyes widened in acknowledgement. “You’re…”

Clen stammered. “I mean, you can’t be…”

“Yes. I am Talgara,” She laughed. “I guess the stories make me out to be some sort of

monstrous beast. I apologize if I don’t live up to expectations.”

His face darkened once more. “No, it’s not that. You are far more-” His mouth shut,

closing off what she presumed to be something he wasn’t sure if he should finish

“Calm down before you hurt yourself,” Talgara comforted. “I am no legendary hero.

Just a kitsune slightly intoxicated after a day’s work.”

Silence filled the space around them. The cheers and banter faded into the

background, as Talgara truly looked at Clen once more. His eyes full of questions. His hands




with that strength. And she found herself drawn to him as he had been drawn to her.

“I believe that you are much more.” Clen’s voice broke through the silence that had

gathered between them. “Not some Hunter that rids the world of demons single-handedly as

stories will suggest. No, I have also heard of how you guide your people. How you care for

them. How almost none have died under your leadership. I want to know the Talgara that

has captured so many and why. If you wouldn’t mind, I would ask to hear your story.”

Talgara paused. She could hear the anxiety in his voice and the nerves that shook his

body as he spoke. She could also see the honesty in his eyes. The true desire to understand.

And he chose to understand her.

“On one condition,” Talgara finally said. “That you tell me some of the other tales you

have gathered first.”




And so, Clen told Talgara the tales he carried in his lute and his books. He recounted

the world three times over and enlightened her to things that her small collection of books

had yet to show her. She sat like a young child on a journey through the world. Every so

often, Clen would stop and ask for Talgara to share. To give him the pieces unknown to

him of her stories untold, for he needed to write the next few verses in her epic. So they

spent the night together until dawn broke over the horizon. Liquor induced cheers turned to

snores and whimpers of dreaming.

Unfortunately, Clen was a bard, and as such, a wanderer through the lands of Brel.

The next day he made to leave with his new story in his pack. He promised Talgara that he’d

return when her story grew, so she promised to give him an epic worth singing about. Clen

left her a book, the spine worn from reading, as a promise of his return. And so he went.

And so she trained. Until the day that he would again sing stories to her. Until the day she

would be written into history forever.

If ever she had seemed diligent before, Talgara doubled her efforts with each passing

week. Soon she had conquered even the foul scourge of Shevari the Trickster, a demon

known for luring even the bravest of Hunters to death’s door. With each deed, three full

moons past, bringing Clen back to Ecurek to pen her newest feat and sing to her a new

song. And so she fought. Ever burning.

Yet as the time passed, it was no longer simply the stories she longed for. No, she

found herself enjoying the tilt of his smile. She began to find that even this frail horse had a

strength hidden deep within him. One that burned with an intensity for knowledge that she

had only ever imagined herself to possess.

With each verse, Clen slowly realized that the kitsune was more than just a hero. She

was kind. She was clever. And most of all, she had the smile and eyes of a child learning to

walk every time he sung a new story.

No longer were they strangers drawn together by stories of heroes past. Now they

unknowingly began to write the story of a flower that could blossom in the snow. Love.

Something that starts off with a note and then explodes into a masterpiece. An ember that

soon becomes a raging fire.

However, all was not freshly sparked love for Talgara and the village of Ecurek. Her

mother, Aluara, leader of the Hunters of Ecurek, fell ill one hateful winter. Her breathing

weak and her body withering, Aluara called her daughter for her final request.

“My little flame,” her mother began, her voice as brittle as a tea leaf. “I am not long for

this world. I cannot lead the Hunters as I once had.” Talgara opened her mouth to protest,

but a quick glare from her mother quieted her. Even on her death bed, she demanded

authority.

“Ecurek must stand tall,” she continued. “With you as its lead. However, a lack of a

future heir concerns me.”

“Mother, I am not ready,” Talgara protested unable to hold herself back.

“We rarely are, fire of my heart. “ Aluara looked upon her daughter with eyes as calm

A Promise - Chapter 02 - Page 09



as the winter sky . “Yet Ecurek needs you and needs stability.”

“Who shall lead the Hunters while I am with child,” Talgara whispered.

“Foolish girl,” Aluara laughed roughly. “I felled at least three lively villains while you

rested inside me. However, you do pose my next point. Since there will come a time, when

you must not endanger yourself, I have proposed a tournament.” Talgara’s heart raced for

she knew what her mother was asking.

“Not one of those silly dispute challenges,” Aluara continued. “No this shall be to find

out who can make the renowned Talgara, daughter of both Aluara and the village of Ecurek,

yield. Only they could be worthy of providing an heir. Only they could be worthy of my

daughter. Only they could lead the Hunters of Ecurek into battle for the short time you are

with child.

“This is my last wish.” Aluara raised a withered hand to her daughter’s face. “To see my

grandchild before I die. I believe I can hold on for that long.”

She erupted into a coughing fit, having spoken more than was wise in her condition.

The nurse rushed in to tend to her, leaving Talgara alone with her mind. No child could

refuse a mother’s wish. No matter what they felt. No matter if their heart had begun to

understand what it was to be with another. Yet from her knowledge, Clen would return in a

month. Just in time to watch her fight.

Talgara spent the month in solitude, only visiting her mother on occasion. Two sides of

a war raged in her head. Chances were in her favor that she could hold out this tournament.

As champion of Ecurek, Talgara had never lost a bout. Hardly even come close. Yet if she

chose to elongate the tournament, her mother would die before seeing Talgara’s child. What

her mother was truly asking her was to yield for the right challenger. For one whom she

believed to be the best to lead Ecurek at her side. This was her first challenge as the new

leader--and her heart ached.

Yet a few days before Clen would return and the tournament commence, an idea took

to the tinder of her thoughts. She had been reading through stories of the past. Histories that

detailed successions and leadership. She learned that sometimes through a quick turn of

wit, one can turn the most dire of straits towards their favor. So when Clen arrived the night

before the tournament, Talgara told him of it, her mother, and her responsibility. And how

she felt about him.

“Talgara,” Clen whispered. “I had actually come with news of mine own, yet yours

does seem slightly more pertinent. However, I shall present it just the same.” Clen reached

into his pack and pulled out a small wooden ring. Carved into it were the runes that spelled

out Talgara’s name. It looked roughly carved. Yet Clen’s hands were filled with bruises and

splinters that told Talgara of the hard work he had put into it.

“As a wanderer,” Clen began. “I have hardly ever had a place to call home, since I left

my first one when I was but a colt. However there was one tradition that I never forgot. You

see, I was born in a farming village, even smaller than Ecurek, so many of us would leave for

a time the return once we were ready to begin a family. I guess, I had just never bothered to




return.

“Still, when ready, we were expected to find a tree as old as our oldest ancestor and

carve from it a ring. So I traveled back to my first home and found that tree: a large alder

that rested on the top of a hill behind my family’s farm. From it I took a root as thick as my

arm and carved this ring. My grandfather always told me that the deepest of magic runs

through the dirt. So this ring ties you to me. To my family. To my home. And I to you and

yours.”

Talgara let the ring rest on her paw. The cracks in the wood. The harsh edges where it

was cut. Even the rune which bent in odd angles. Yet it almost glowed when it touched her

fur. As if the imperfections hid a deeper sense of harmony. This was the shape it was meant

to be for what else could Clen give her. It was perfectly made by his hands.

Clen stepped back and stood taller than she had ever seen him. “Yet you are bound

to this land. To these people. As one with no home, I cannot hope to grasp the meaning of

having one, so I will not ask you to forsake it. Yet the ring is yours.”

“Fool,” Talgara said, her voice foreign to her. “I have made my decision.”

That night, Talgara told Clen her plan. His objections took half the night itself, before

she was able to fully convince him. None had ever done that. But again, he was not as frail

as he appeared.




The day of the tournament had come, and Ecurek had transformed overnight. The

Ecurek that Talgara had known throughout her life had been calm. Houses the color of

burnt wood carved their way out of the mountainside in harsh edges and sharp lines.

Others seemed to bloom from the ground itself. All covered in a thin layer of snow. It had

always been simple--though it was its simplicity that echoed beauty and thrummed through

Talgara’s heart.

Now, crowds of people from all over Brel had come to take witness. An even larger

crowd had come to prove themselves against the mighty Talgara. A stage built into the side

of the mountain had been set. It had not been used for a few years, but this day it appeared

as though new. The crowd filed into them to the beat of drums. A group of Hunters had

taken it upon themselves to sing The Glory of Talgara, Clen’s song, as they came into the

stadium:

Far off in the mountains of Brel

I heard of a place where fires dwell.

A heart that carried guiding light

that could shine through the darkest night.

Fur as gold as new day’s painted snow

with red etching in a crimson glow,

and grace that swayed like the aurora,

I came to find the name, Talgara.

Clen had spent time over the past months adding and reworking parts of the song. Yet now

everyone heard it. Most began to hum along. Other Ecureki joined in as they led the crowd

to the stage.

Talgara herself could hardly hear the words sung as she dressed in a small room

hidden underneath the stage. Her armor of gold and red clung in shifting plates as she

shrugged it on. Flashier than what she would ever wear on a hunt, the armor gleamed with

constant fervor between gold and red, casting the echo of a flame onto the wall behind her.

No dent. No scratch. No imperfection. As much was expected from the armor of a champion.

On a desk rested a pair of pistols. Hand canons that shot out small metallic rounds

enchanted in various ways by Talgara’s own hand. Some rounds exploded into the purest

fire consuming all in its path. Others caused anything it touched to melt. Then there were

the newest few. The ones that Talgara had spent the remainder of the night preparing. They

were something she had never tried before. A complex set of magics that Talgara had never

thought herself capable of. Yet now they rested there. Two bullets that would hopefully

make her plan work. The rest was in Clen’s hands.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Talgara came onto the stage, her bullets held in

pouches at her side. She pumped her paw into the air and they grew louder. The arena,

Blind Faith - Chapter 03 - Page 13



that had been left alone for so long, burst forth with life. Statues of leaders long past now

loomed over with watchful eyes. Even the ground beneath her feet shook with the roar

of the crowd. It hummed in a slow crescendo of a champion’s might. Talgara felt it move

through her in one wave of sung glory as her mother called for attention using a spell to

amplify the voice.

“All of you have gathered to bear witness,” Aluara’s voice boomed, yet the weakness

behind it stayed. “To the glory that is Talgara, my daughter. To some she has been a famed

Hunter. To Ecurek she is family. To demons, she is retribution. Yet today, Talgara must

become leader, and choose someone with which to bring forth an heir. So come forth brave

Hunters, and show us if you are worthy. Worthy to be by my daughter’s side. Worthy to be a

parent to her child.” With that, the tournament began.

Challengers came and went, each unable to withstand her might. It soon became a

competition among the battlers to see who could outlast each other once they knew that

none could beat her. Then Clen came, and the stage was silent.

Underneath the new day sun, Clen appeared even smaller in his leather armor. He

carried nothing but a small pistol at his side, similar to Talgara’s own make. Some in the

crowd began to whisper and wonder if the small stallion was hiding something within his

stature. Then Aluara announced him.

“Clen, son of the land,” her voice spoke. “Show us if you are worthy.”

The match began. Talgara rushed forward. She became of a blur of gold and red as

she sped towards Clen. He moved with purpose to the side, raising his own pistol towards

her. She pivoted left. Then right. Then across the stage with one kick off her paw. With every

movement, the barrel of Clen’s pistol followed her in quick jerks. As if he knew where she

was going to be before she did. The crowd roared as Clen anticipated each movement. At

least that’s how it was supposed to appear.

Talgara jumped back, her fingers clutched around a small round pellet. Not one of her

prepared bullets. Just something that would help to get everything in place. As Clen raised

his pistol, Talgara twisted in the air, sending her body into a wide spin. Her fingers launched

the pellet straight at his hand. With a clang of metal on metal, the horse’s pistol flew out of

his hand and into the crowd.

The stands chanted Talgara’s name, yet some had even begun to shout Clen’s. So far

he had lasted longer than any on this day. They stood tall at either side of the stage. Like

two monoliths trying to see who’d reside in who’s shadow. The rest was timing. Talgara took

a breath. Everything had to be perfect. Most of it on her. Clen had done his part better than

she had dreamed. Now the rest was on her--as it always had been.

With a practiced smirk, Talgara raised one of her twin pistols. It stretched out along

her arm, wider at the barrel then at the hand, embroidered in shades of silver metal and the

deepest auburn wood. An enchanted bullet rested deep within each of her hand cannons.

This first would begin it all. She fired. Her aim true. Straight at Clen’s head.

Blind Faith - Chapter 03 - Page 14



The night before hadn’t only been spent in planning. Practice was just as important.

As Clen repeated his role three times over, Talgara began calculating what she would

need. She would correct him. Too fast. Too slow. Too much to the right. Until Clen was able

to repeat each step with perfection and without hesitation. His was the easy part. Slight

movements. Keeping composure. Learning how to act like a hunter without actually being

one. Although Clen’s faults had made her laugh, his quick study had made Talgara smile.

Her part, however, was much more complex. Magic had lingered in the air around

her. She had known the art of demon hunting. How to destroy. How to trap. How to best

them. Yet what she needed was something much more intricate. These two enchantments

could mean death for either Clen or her if not done correctly. The idea had sounded simple

enough. Yet the execution caused her to use every inch of cunning and wit she could

muster. Manipulating magic in complex patterns that would make any Hunter seem like

nothing more than a blunt instrument.

Now the time had come to see if it would work. There had been no time to test it

out. She had not told Clen. He didn’t need to worry. He needed to be strong and confident

enough to make it work. So in that, he needed to believe that she had no doubt. The bullet

sped forward with a prayer.

Clen raised his hand in a practiced motion, dramatic yet sturdy. As it closed in on Clen,

the enchanted pellet erupted just a foot away from Clen’s outstretched arm. The explosion

of smoke and flame licked at the air and curled around the horse as pressing against some

invisible barrier. It grew in intensity, climbing higher. Crashing in waves before a magical

barrier. Or so it would look. Then it flared and began to twist, funneling into the air in one

last dying breath.

The crowd hushed as they watched Talgara’s flames wither away into nothingness.

Never had anything overpowered her magic. Yet here was Clen, a bard who felled her fire

with a single gesture. Underneath that frail physique must have been a mage of a caliber

not yet seen in this world.

Or so that was what Talgara would want them to believe.

Either way, the crowd broke the silence with an uproar. That meant it was time for the

final act in Talgara’s plan. One that was just as dangerous as the last. Had she enchanted

that last bullet wrong, Clen would have been turned to ash. If this next one failed, she would

be.

With a flick of her wrist, Talgara’s lowered gun fired silently. To any but the most

attentive it would have seemed like nothing more than a trick of the light, flashing off the

barrel. She breathed and brace herself.

One.

The bullet had to be small. Small enough to escape notice, yet hold the impact of a

spell strong enough to break the very stage beneath them. However, that wasn’t the most

complicated part. The metal round would have to lodge itself into the ground without

breaking. Without igniting. Even worse, the timing had to be exact. Three counts. Three long

Moment Of Truth - Chapter 04 - Page 16



moments to see if her hard work would fulfill the plan that held Clen’s and her hopes.

Two.

Clen rose his arm in a flourish, as if gathering for a final blow. He then threw it

forward.

Three.

Fire burst forth from under Talgara’s feet, throwing her into the air. It bent around her

body in an eruption of flame and destruction, searing cloth and fur. She hurtled to the edge

of the arena, the force of the explosion bouncing her off the surface of the stage until she

came to a stop with a loud thud. Her pistols lay across from her. The flames licked at the air

as if begging for more.

“I…” Talgara began slowly in a hushed voice. “I…yield.”

Silence weaved through the crowd as if waiting for an echo. Then they began to

cheer, chanting Clen’s name in such revelry that the ground seemed to shake beneath

them. It had worked. The plan had actually worked. Talgara lay crouched and hunched

over, fearing that her injury would be revealed as fake lest she remain fallen. Clen beamed,

his part complete. However, his eyes were full of worry. Yet why? Everything had gone as

planned. Every detail. Not even Clen could take that away.

Unfortunately, she would have been lying if she told herself that a seed of unease

hadn’t taken root within her mind. Something was wrong. She could not place it. She said a

silent prayer. One in hopes that she was just becoming paranoid. Yet still it did not leave her.

“Enough!” Her mother’s voice crashed through the arena. Only silence remained.

“Talgara,” Aluara said. Her voice seemed to have gathered in strength. “I will not allow

you to disrespect those gathered here with that display.”

She hung her head in failure. Everything had been for not.

“How dare you,” Aluara roared, her voice cracking with both frailty and rage. “How

dare you believe that I would let this be? You may have tricked the untrained. Yet you

cannot, and will not, deceive me. As any, this would-be mage must prove his worth. With

this display, you have insulted not only me, but also all of those that have traveled here to

prove themselves. If you shall not fight in earnest, I shall.”

“Mother, no,” Talgara cried. Her body had moved without her thinking, proving her

mother’s words. The seared fur and fabric all rested on a perfectly healthy kitsune. She could

not let her mother fight. Aluara had once been the pride of Ecurek. Now, even the slightest

of bouts could prove too much for her old frame to handle.

“Then shall you fight?” Aluara replied. “Shall you prove to me and those around you

that you take this matter seriously? What proof do I have that some other deceit does not

rest in your mind?”

Even at this distance, Talgara met her mother’s gaze with conviction. She may have

loved Clen. Both truly and entirely. That did not mean her duty to her kinsmen was lessened

any. She may have lost this battle. Despite this, Talgara did not plan to give up. She would

just have to find another way. For now, she had to protect her mother.




Surrender on Clen’s part was no longer an option. Those were the rules of a tournament

such as this. If a champion was caught using trickery, surrender would no longer be allowed.

One had to be injured in some way as payment. In a true fight. Without deceit. Talgara had

not planned for this. One does not plan for failure. Yet now she faced a decision as she

looked upon Clen, confusion lacing the edge of his eyes.

“Clen, do not move,” Talgara said softly. Her hands wrapped around one of the fallen

hand canons.

“Talgara-” Clen stopped as she raised it towards him.

“Please Clen.” Talgara felt her heart pound against the wood of the handle. “Do not

move.” She leveled the barrel. One shot. Through the arm. He’d be wounded, but alive. Her

hand shook as she began to tighten her finger.

Clen stared at her, his eyes unsure. He nodded even while shaking. The world seemed

to shake. Seemed to tremble all around her. Just one shot. One she had made countless

times before that day. One that would take back the insult. One that would appease her

mother. One that would save her mother. Just one shot.

“Just don’t move,” Talgara whispered, her breath hot against her lips.

“I won’t.” Clen met her gaze with a calm in his eye that his body betrayed. They

looked upon each other, unspoken words flowing in the air between them. One plan had

failed. This one would not.

The trigger cracked as she fired.




Snow fell on the silent village of Ecurek that night. Silence filled the now empty

village. Only the light wind playing off snowflakes could be heard for miles as Talgara sat

outside the stone cottage she had once called her home as a child. A flame flickered above

her in an orb. The light it cast danced along her fur, making the patterns of red and gold

shine as a companion to the flame above.

Her two pistols rested on her lap. The cold seeping through her fur to the skin

beneath. The metal had been shaped alongside the wood. She had made them by hand.

Striking the metal into its true shape. Carving the wood in guiding motions so it carried the

form. Most often she hardly took notice of the weapons. They had become an extension of

herself. Her identity as a Hunter. Now the image carved into it, once meant as devotion to

her deity, mocked her.

She felt numb. Even the cold held no power over her. She had failed. Her first time.

Her last time. The thought of it scratched at her skin in ways, gnawing at her skin. Trying

to claw its way into her. Talgara could no longer force herself to ignore it. So she gave in.

Letting the thoughts be the only thing her body could feel. The only thing she could handle

to feel.

“You can go in now.” A nurse appeared next to Talgara. The rather large black

rhinoceros had once been a protégé, rivaling Talgara’s skills. Most had expected him to join

Talgara as leader. Despite this, he had chosen the path of the healer rather than the Hunter.

Some would even call his the most noble of professions. Since they had grown together, he

had proven to be her closest friend. His name was Clevethi.

Talgara lifted her head slowly like a boulder weighed it down.

“Tal, I want you to go inside” Clevethi said, his voice low and warm. He only ever

called her that when he knew she needed help.

Talgara’s voice shook on the brink of breaking. “And what I want?”

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “We cannot change the past. We must look on to

the future and pray that our aches lessen over time.”

“You say it so easily,” Talgara whispered.

“For I too have lost,” Clevethi assured her. For once she understood him. How he felt

his love had left the living behind. “You must move. For to not move would be a failure you

could not live with. You must stand, Tal.”

“If I must,” Talgara said as her paws pushed the weight of eight mountains for her to

stand. “I am just not sure how to.”

Clevethi faced her, clutching her shoulders. “Then you must learn. Now go see her. She

does not have long.”

With a tightening of his grasp, Clevethi turned to leave the small house. Talgara forced

herself to holster the hand canons and enter the home. The warmth of the fire pressed

against her skin in waves, banishing the cold. Her mother lay on the cot that had become

her resting place. When Aluara’s eyes caught sight of her daughter, she motioned her over

with all the strength she could muster.

Lament - Chapter 05 - Page 20



“Talsoreth, my little flame,” Aluara spoke with battered voice.

“Mother,” Talgara said. No more words could find their way out of her.

“I know that look,” Aluara continued eyes wondering towards the ceiling. “I carried

that same look when your father was taken.”

Talgara looked upon her mother who seemed to glow in the light. She could

remember the visage of strength that Aluara once had been. Tall. Strong. All five tails flowing

behind her as she ran across the mountain side. She could also remember her father, taken

from her as a young child on a hunt. He had followed in Aluara’s wake, his own four tails

bright red and orange against the snow. That was the life of a Hunter.

Aluara began to sit up against Talgara’s protests. “In my old age, I may have forgotten

what it was once like to be in love. And in my foolishness, I may have asked too much of

you. For that, I am sorry.”

Water began to collect on the sides of Talgara’s eyes. Hot tears rolled down her fur as

she met her mother’s gaze.

Talgara had fired. Her aim true. Her bullet meant for more than nothing than a wound.

It had been Clen who had feared. Uncertain. Hesitant. And in that moment, he moved. Just

slightly. Nothing more than a few inches to the right. Yet those few inches carried a bullet

meant for his arm, through his heart.

The look in his eye as the bullet slammed against him etched its image into Talgara’s

mind. She would never forget as his body began to fall and her own lunge forward. No

matter how fast she ran. The damage had been done. Clen had died, clutching her ring in his

hand. She had killed him.

The sound of her mother’s voice brought her back to the present.

“Let me tell you a story,” Aluara said, slowly placing her hand on Talgara’s own. “It is

of a young kitsune who lost her love to a demon. During a hunt, the fox believed herself

to be invincible and made a mistake. A mistake her love paid for. He protected her, and for

that he lost his life. That is the truth of your father’s death. I blame myself to this day.”

“You cannot blame yourself,” Talgara said, refusing to meet her mother’s gaze again.

“And why not,” Aluara laughed. “It was I whose pride led to that fatal mistake. Either

he or I would have died. I had been prepared for my life. Not his. Should someone else pay

for my missteps? No. Never. Yet here the both of us stand with others having paid the price.”

Aluara looked upon her daughter with a smile. “I probably should not tell you this. You

may wind up making the same mistakes that your mother has. Unfortunately I do not have

long, and that expression tells me that you shall find out eventually. So please listen while I

have the strength.” Talgara sat on the edge of her mother’s bed.

“When your father was taken,” Aluara began. “I was much like you. Destroyed and

using any means with which to punish myself. However, that soon turned into a wish. A wish

to bring him back to me. If only for a day. If only to share my love with him once more. So I

searched. I looked for any way that could bring him back to me. Do not look at your mother

so. If you are anything like I, then that thought will soon cross your mind.




“In my search, I came upon a legend of a demon who granted wishes. As a Hunter I

should have known better. Yes. But as someone who had lost their love, it appeared as a

miracle. So I went in search of this demon, this Tobari the Masked One. I found it at Agios,

the fire pit where one such demon would make its home. As I looked upon the demon, its

face rested just underneath the fire rocks surface. It smiled at me and asked me why I had

come.

“I told the creature. And it granted my wish. Without so much as a breath, your father

stood next to me, as new as the day he was taken. Then I was told the price. Remember,

little flame, nothing is gained without first having paid a price. I had forgotten that lesson,

and as Tobari spoke its price, I realized that it was too great. It had given me three months

with him. After then, he would have to join Tobari in the flames of Agios. To forever burn.

And if not him, my own soul would be the price.”

Aluara took a breath at the memory. “I spent those three months looking for any way

around the demon’s deal. Rather than cherish your father, I ran myself to the bone trying to

find a way out. There was no answer. I had failed. The day came, and no solution had found

its way into my grasp. I was left with the choice of sacrifice: the one I loved, or myself. As

any Hunter would, I chose myself. However, your father had other plans.

“He snuck out under the light of the moon. When I awoke he was gone. Tolbari had

taken him. To this day, his soul dwells in the fire rock of Agios.” Aluara breathed heavy, a

tremor in her voice not brought on by illness.

Talgara watched her mother. She saw a woman who had lost love twice over. The pain

that seemed hidden beneath the surface until then now played its way through the paths

carved out by time. She threw herself into her mother’s grasp and let the tears flow. Hot and

heavy.

They lay there for a time, letting the fire warm them as mother and daughter once

more. Then Aluara met Talgara’s weak gaze. “You must not make the same mistakes I have,

Talsoreth. You must move forward. At least that would be the right words to speak. However,

I know you. I know that look that haunts your eye. So just promise me this.”

She gripped Talgara’s hand with as much strength as she could muster. “Find a way.

Outsmart it. Defeat it. Something so that you will not endure the same pain. Yet most of all,

cherish every renewed moment. Promise this, Talgara.”

“I promise, mother.” Talgara leaned her forehead against her mother’s. She knew this

herself. She would find a way. She had to.




Aluara passed on mere days following their conversation. During the period of

mourning, Talgara spent time preparing for her journey, searching for an answer. Her

kinsmen did not question her for they had seen her sorrow. They knew that she was now

their leader and no one’s faith had been shaken. They were Hunters of Ecurek. Each one a

fighter. Each one a member of an ever growing family. They did not judge one another.

Talgara sat in her home on the final day of mourning. She caressed the soft scarf that

graced her neck. Clen had left behind his only two possessions: the lute that now rested

strapped over her shoulder and the scarf that gave off an ebbing flow of warmth. A scarf

meant to warm you in the cold and cool you in the heat. A simple enough enchantment that

most had not bothered replicating since more interesting means of warmth had been made

readily available. An enchanted pendant, for example, could create a field of warmth for

more than just oneself. An enchantment such as the one on the scarf was unnecessary since

hardly anyone traveled alone--except for Clen.

And now, the simple scarf wrapped around her neck, cooling her fur as she stood next

the fire. However, she did not just stand next to it. Talgara stood close enough to burn just

from the radiating heat. Yet she still felt cool. Comfortable.

In the time following, Talgara began her journey towards Mount Agios. Although

reluctant to leave Ecurek alone, she had to follow Clevethi’s words. She had to move

forward. That meant crossing the valleys and flatlands that separated to northern village of

Ecurek from the southern Agios.

Though her focus never wavered, the journey dragged on for about half the span

between moons. Along the way, she would rest and polish her hand cannons. Clen’s name

shone along the etching on its barrel. After, she would pluck the strings of the lute in an

unformed melody that called her mind back to that tavern where they first met.

Soon, Talgara arrived at the mouth of Agios. Molten fire rock swam beneath her, as

her feet cradled the volcano’s ledge. Her eyes grazed the thick movements of the liquid like

rock. The air wrapped around her like a weighted cloak. Her back straightened against it.

She would not let herself appear weak in front of this demon.

“Like mother, like daughter,” a voice leaked from the rising smoke. It whispered as

if lingering over her ear. Talgara winced against the voice before she could stop herself. A

face rose from the fire rock below. Even against the harsh streams of the Agios’ current, the

details played vividly. So vividly, Talgara realized it too perfect to be a real face. A mask.

“So this is why they call you the Masked One,” Talgara said. Her own voice boomed

across the cavern.

“I’ve always liked the name,” Tobari replied. Its voice came from nowhere yet it was

the only thing she could her. “Good faces are always hard to come by. I’ve had this same

one for so long that the craving for something new has filled my very core. Maybe yours.

Although, it is not much different from this one, now is it?”

Talgara stared as the mask moved closer to where she stood. Then the details further

expressed themselves. The golden color of its fur. The red along the cheeks. That was the

Sacrifice - Chapter 06 - Page 24



face of her father. The father Aluara said had flown headlong into Agios in order to protect

her.

“How dare you wear his face?” Talgara found rage entering her voice. She had to calm

herself or the demon would overcome.

“I did not make that deal,” Tobari laughed. “Nor shall I make the one you’ve come here

for. I’m always so glad when I get to see family.”

Talgara stood there silent at the demon’s taunts. Even against the tremors of her own

clenched fist.

Tobari continued, only visible through the mask, “Your father told me your name was

Talgara. In between his screams of course; nevertheless, I quite like the name. The Guiding

Flame. Talgara. I cannot begin to word the beauty of standing before my own fire. I’m

assuming your mother has already told you the price. Yet still you come. So what is it you’ve

come for? What is your wish?”

Talgara took a breath. “Clen.” She said no more for no more was needed. Demons

knew things no other creature could explain. Tobari would know who she meant. It would

see into her heart and bring him forth.

“How very like her you are,” Tobari cackled. With his words, a body appeared next to

her, lying in a dead sleep. She almost ran to him. Almost dragged him close into her to never

again let go. Almost.

“Of course, I must still give you the rules,” Tobari continued. “For as long as three

moon cycles you have to cherish him. Once that has passed, he must join me in the fires

of Agios. He must offer himself to forever burn with me, giving me my new face. Yet if that

fails to be, you shall burn, my flames consuming you, body and soul. Wherever you are. No

matter how far you run. I shall have one of you.”

Laughter filled her head with pounding as the mask disappeared beneath the fire

rock. As the ache subsided, Talgara found a hand resting on her shoulder. She turned slowly

to see him. He wore the same shirt and trousers from the day of the tournament. As if that

bullet had never passed through his heart. As if he had never been the victim of her failure.

She looked at his face. His hands. His eyes. The same lines of worry and care lining the deep

brown of them.

Now Clen lived. Brought back from beyond by a wish hardly spoken. She pulled him

towards her, trapping him in her arms. He was real. She could see him. Smell him. Hear his

heavy breath as their bodies met. Clen now laid in her arms and her anger disappeared.

“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words that left her mouth. Soft and nearly silent. “I’m

so sorry.”

“I moved.” His voice sounded like fresh water. “I didn’t trust you as I should have. I let

fear take me, and now your face resembles the verse of a well-worn lament strung from the

purest of lutes. For the pain I have caused you, I am sorry.” Talgara showed him the ring he’d

given her, now firmly caressing her long finger. No more words were exchanged, for none

were needed.




As they left the mountain, Clen questioned what Talgara planned, but she said only to

trust her. His memories had become blurred and though he wondered how he had arrived

there, she avoided the question as much as possible. Clen did not need to know what she

had done. Clen took her word, at least for that moment. At least until the three months had

passed.

The next few months were spent in the revelry. The advice of Aluara rung in Talgara’s

mind, as they travelled through Brel. She took the time to hold him. Cherish him. Keep him

close. No moment was wasted between them. As if this was the beginning of forever. Yet

time passed too quickly, even with every moment used to its fullest.

The day before Tobari’s debt was due arrived. Talgara and Clen clung to each other in

a cabin. They rested in a village along the valley under Agios. Their love calmed them, yet

time nagged at the back of her head.

“Tomorrow I join Tobari,” Clen said, sitting up. Before Talgara could ask how he knew,

Clen raised his hand. “In this village, there was the story of a demon who grants wishes.

One who tricks those into giving of themselves to get what they truly desire. After a few

began to explain how it worked, it did not take me long to understand. That is why I cannot

remember I died. And you brought me back. Now you wish to sacrifice yourself?” There was

both accusation and worry in his voice.

“I told you to trust me, Clen.” Talgara’s voice growled slightly.

“I do,” Clen said turning. “I trust you. But I cannot allow you to suffer in my place. I

have caused you enough pain. Please let me go in your place. My time is already over.”

“Clen, you shall not join Tobari,” Talgara said firmly. “I won’t allow it.”

“Just tell me,” Clen pleaded. “If you are so sure, then tell me your plan. Explain how we will

survive tomorrow.”

Talgara sat silently for a moment. She could not tell him. If she did, he would not

believe her. He would beg her not to. He would do all in his power to stop her. It risked

everything. Either way, Clen would live. And that was how it must be. “I can’t.”

“I don’t understand,” Clen sighed.

“Please promise me.” Talgara pulled him close. “You must trust me. You will not go

tomorrow.” If it had been up to her, Talgara would have travelled far from Agios. Traversed

the desert to separate them from the demon. Unfortunately her decision had been made

for her. Whenever they left the village, Clen would faint. Almost dead. Another unsaid part

of the deal. He could not leave the earth of Agios. His soul tied to its ground until this day

came. She could practically hear the sound of Tobari’s laughter.

Clen met her eyes and gave in. “I promise.”

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms. She fell asleep against

him and dreamed of fire. All consuming. Burning her core.

Talgara woke abruptly. Alone. The first rays of sunlight painting the bed. She was alone.

Panic ran through her veins. Then she saw parchment. Newly inscribed.

On it read, Forgive me.




Talgara cursed as she sped through the village. The stupid horse. He was going to ruin

everything. Her heart thudded in like the ring of a hammer. The air stabbed at her lungs. He

had promised. He had promised her.

Now only a matter of moments separated him from eternal fire. What could she

do? What could she say to him? Would she have not done the same if the roles had been

reversed? Was she not planning the same fate if her own plan failed? Though as much as

she reasoned. As much as she loved him. She cursed the horse’s name angrily. How dare

he?

She ran. As fast as her paws would carry her. Her fingers danced, looking for the lines

of magic. Her voice chanted a string of unheard phrases, calling it to her. She needed more

speed. Something. Anything to get there before it was too late. She felt the magic hum into

existence around her and take shape. It was quick. One of the quickest she knew. Bursts of

flame erupted from underneath her feet with every other step. It propelled her forward in

small explosions. It was the closest to wind speed magic she knew.

Every other step carried her farther as the flames launched her forward. The magic

roared as her fur of gold and red blurred into the mountain side. She had to make it. There

was no question. She refused to fail again.

Talgara leapt over the last stretch and watched as Clen hung on the edge of Agios.

Tobari lingered in fire rock beneath.

“Clen!” Talgara screamed as she grabbed Clen. She flung him back hard, his eyes

wide. Her breathing was hard, as she stood there, glowing in residual magic. Red and gold

hovering in the air.

“How dare you!” Talgara yelled once again.

“Calm yourself, Talgara,” Tobari’s voice circled into her ear. “Like your father before

you, Clen here is willing to make the sacrifice. For love. For you.” His laughter filled the air

once again.

“I’m not talking to you, demon,” Talgara yelled.

“Fiesty,” Tobari said, a smile in his voice. She kept her attention to Clen.

“You promised.” Her voice lowered as he looked into his brown eyes.

“I can’t let you,” Clen coughed. “I just can’t. I’m the one who deserves this. How can I

rely on a plan I don’t know? I love you, Talgara. You must live. You must move forward.”

“I am,” Talgara growled. “More so than you know. Now for once, Clen. Trust me.” This

was her moving forward. Towards the mouth of Agios. Towards Tobari and his hellfire.

“I will,” Clen said, resigned. He sat there as the sun rose over the horizon. She went

to him and held him in her arms. She felt every muscle. Every breath. Every tension.

This would be the moment she had to remember. Where she held him and a magic with

no name seemed to engulf her mind. The magic between two souls that calls to each

other unendingly. This would be that touch. That final moment between them. Whatever

happened.

“It is time, oh powerful Talgara,” Tobari laughed. “Your choice is made. Your fate

Guiding Flame - Chapter 06 - Page 28



decided. Let my flames consume your soul into oblivion.”

Talgara stood at the ledge as flames came to life, engulfing her entirely.

Of all the demons and magic of Brel, there was one form that transcended even the

most gifted mage. The Relics. These ancient tablets of time long past were said to predate

the gods themselves. Their magic had been deemed too powerful for any one being, so

the divine had scattered them across Brel, where they took hold of the land around them,

twisting and turning it with the powerful magics imbued within them.

One such Relic was said to reside in the center of the ever-raging blizzard just north of

Ecurek. It ravaged the land, consuming any who dare delve within it. It had claimed the lives

of lost travelers and prideful Hunters alike. People had taken enchantments of various kinds

to extend a magical barrier of heat between oneself and the raging storm. Each had failed.

Despite this, Talgara journeyed north of Ecurek to the storm known as Dyagarad.

The one true blizzard. Through the snow drenched mountains of northern Brel, she carried

herself towards it. As she drew near, a white and gray barrier raged in the distance. She

gripped at her scarf. She had to reach the center. There was no doubt. If she did not, she

would die. That would be the end of it.

The wall of Dyagarad slammed into her like a thrown boulder. The cold wrapped

around her bent over body as she tried to recover. The scarf felt warm against her, yet could

not keep everything out. It was a focused spell. More so than newer enchantments. It was

simple. It would hold. But not for long. A voice in the depths her mind questioned if it would

be long enough.

She pushed herself forward against the rage of the storm. Thicker than any earth.

Stronger than any demon she had face. Still she pushed herself. Her mind focused on Clen.

The sound of his voice. The warmth of his smile. The care in his eyes. It gave her strength

with every step. Against the cold that began to pierce on her extremities.

It crept along her fingers until she could not feel the fur beneath. Still she moved

forward. She no longer began to feel her arms or feet. Despite this, Talgara knew they were

there, so she pressed on. Soon she only knew her body was moving from the vision in the

distance. The vision of a small edged tablet that floated. It seemed to be the center. Exuding

gray-blue and white energy. The Relic. She moved. She rose her arm from where it should

have been. It grew closer. And closer. Her eyes grew heavier. Only the thought of Clen kept

them open as her fingers wrapped around the Relic’s edges. She pulled it close.

And the Dyagarad died around her.

Now that Relic was fused into the scarf that hugged her neck. Dark red flames bit at

her, yet still she stood. Strong. Flames licking at every part of her body.

“How,” Tobarai’s voice crashed through her head. “How are you still there?”




It worked. The plan had worked. All doubt fled from her mind. Only resolve remained

as she watched the current of Agios’ fire rock growing stronger. Tremors shook the ground

beneath her. Still she stood. Eyes looked on the mask of her father’s face.

“How!” The Relic of Enhancement increased the power of the scarf a hundredfold.

Even hellfire could not pierce it.

Tobari raged. “You wretched beast! I shall take you myself. How dare you make a fool

of me?” The mask rose, spreading the molten rock underneath it. Until a scaly beast began

to reveal itself. Its eyes large and yellow. Its appendages webbed as fins along its side, red

cut into the scarred black of its back. Tobari’s true form.

Tobari screamed with rage as it lurched forward. Fire rock spewed over the side in its

wake. Talgara leapt into the air, her body a living fire. Her hand cannons rested in each

hand.

Talgara was a Hunter. She hunted down the vile plague of this world. Putting down

evil with her strength and magic. Tobari was just another of these evils. Her body filled

with magic. The flames around her seemed to echo in response. They would be her new

companion. Following her until she took the scarf off and let them consume her. Now they

were her anger. They represented the flames of vindication that burned within her.

Tobari’s body burst into the air. Talgara fired. Metal cracked against its scales. It

mocked her. It taunted her, lashing out with molten fire rock and teeth. She heard none of it.

She pulled the second trigger. Another crack resounded. It just laughed at her as it swiped its

webbed arm at her.

She twisted in the air. A flick of her thumb sent two metal rounds into the air. They

found their way into the barrels of her pistols. She fired. No spell attached except for the

burst of flame propelling them forward. Only this did she focus her magic on. Speeding

them forward with each pull. She twisted. Turned. Dodged. Fire danced around her. Her body

glided along the air like she had been born to lick at the sky. As if she had always been

meant to be a flame and had been trapped inside a kistune.

Talgara leveled her cannon once more. Tobari spoke curses. Still she heard none of it.

Every demon had a spot. A point on their body Hunters learned to scan for. Always hidden

in some fashion. It was the first thing she had seen, but it did not make sense until her body

became flame and the mask had risen. The Masked One.

A sharp click barked from her cannon one last time. Straight towards the mask.

Straight towards her father’s face, now cracked by the rounds she had put into it. It

shattered. The bullet slammed into the demon and it roared one dying breath.

Talgara landed on the edge as fire rock consumed Tobari’s corpse. She watched it with

a driven glare. This was who she was. Hunter of Ecurek.

“Talgara,” Clen’s voice sounded off in the distance. “You’re alive.”

She just smiled at him. “That I am.”

He came forward and raised his hand cautiously. Talgara shook her head. “You can’t.

This scarf keeps me from burning. But not you. If you touch me, these flames shall burn you




to your very soul. If I ever remove this scarf, they shall do the same to me.”

“I see,” Clen whispered. They looked at one another for a long moment. She could

see his restraint. He wanted to hold her. She wished for the same. But she would not let her

triumph be wasted. So they just looked upon each other.

“What now,” Clen finally said.

Talgara smiled and looked at the ring on her finger carved with the rune of her name

as fire begged to eat away at her. Talgara. The Guiding Flame.

“We move forward.”



Artwork By: Gregorius “Rumz”

Sanctum Polis - The Talgen

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Transcript of Sanctum Polis - The Talgen