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As one travels farther west of Gavony, the Church of Avacyn’s power wanes – humankind’s forces are stretched too thinly across too many settlements. There, men and women are given to the power of innumerable horrors; vampires, werewolves, and creatures stranger still. In the Geier Reach, where the fog is thickest and the angels’ power thinnest, all manner of monsters hold sway over innocent lives – yet even there, humans are not without their protectors.
I was a young cathar then – brown-haired and lean, and only showing the beginnings of a beard. I'd completed my training with the Church a year prior, and had been sent off for my first serious assignment with nothing but a sword and a few throwing daggers. Dristor, the village was called; I have not been there since that night, and do not know if it even still stands.
Cattle had been disappearing in the night, without so much as a trace or an eyewitness account. Whatever had been making them disappear was no werewolf – no beast’s paws were left on the scene, only immense lines embedded in the earth, as though by an immense worm. By the time I’d arrived, my partner was already there.
It was when I entered the farmer’s house when I first saw her. I would not see a real angel until many years later; for years, her face was what I imagined they looked like. Crimson-haired and fair-cheeked, she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen until then – yet she wore a sword on her side and a wide-brimmed hat to match my own, both of which marked her as a cathar like myself.
She turned to me. “You must be Candor,” she said, her expression blank and her voice unwavering. “I’m Kessler. Now let’s go – the more time we waste here, the more victims the creature could claim.”
I followed her, not daring to ask her any questions. We tracked the beast to the southern woods, where the lines led us to a clearing – as we progressed inward, I noticed that she’d kept a hand on her sword’s hilt. I kept quiet throughout, though my heart burned to know her; any sound I made could prove a potentially fatal distraction.
When the tracks stopped, I saw my second unforgettable sight for the night. Deep into the clearing was an immense pile of bones – whatever had stolen the cow had devoured it and kept its bones here, like some twisted game hunter. Tracks circled the pile, although Kessler could not read them; there was no telling where the creature was now.
I gulped. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I said, far too loudly under the circumstances.
“Shh – quiet!” Kessler said, her voice a hiss. “It might – “
That was when the rattling started. It filled the air, coming from seemingly every direction – my eyes darted back and forth, frantically searching for the sound’s source. We drew our weapons, ready for an attack from any direction; even Kessler’s presence couldn’t keep me off guard.
Behind us, something immense slithered out of the trees. We turned around, weapons drawn and feet ready to pounce – what greeted us was no werewolf.
It was an enormous serpent, covered in thick scales – it had a head like a gargoyle’s, with yellow eyes that gleamed in the moonlight and a maw full of fanged teeth. Once it had slithered out, it coiled, surveying both of us with unblinking eyes; its mouth dribbled with spit.
The serpent uttered a low growl – the last warning we’d get. Then it struck.
I stumbled back, fumbling with my sword; spinning around, I turned to look at my companion. But Kessler had already dashed towards the creature. Then their movements were a blur; Kessler weaved past the serpent’s strike and swung her sword into its neck. My grip shaking, I screamed and charged, jabbing at the serpent’s throat – but my sword only met thin air.
I felt a shoulder push me into the pile; as I landed into the pile, my impact kicked up dust. My sword fell – instinctively, I reached for it. Then there was a flash of light, and the familiar sound of a spell being cast; I shut my eyes and gripped my sword’s hilt, smelling the scent of sizzling flesh.
When my eyes readjusted, I saw the creature knocked into the pile, a searing wound at its side – towering over it was Kessler, who held her sword in one hand and a fistful of light in the other. The serpent reared its head again and roared, a deafening sound that sent a chill down my spine.
Wordlessly, Kessler pounced. I heard steel meeting dry bone; I knew in that instant that she’d missed. Once again, I got up and swung my sword – it met with the serpent’s reared neck once again, eliciting a cry of agony from it. I felt the surge of triumph; then it turned to me.
In that split-second, I knew what to do. Letting go of my sword, I jumped back and reached for a dagger. With one fluid motion, I flung a dagger into the creature’s gullet – it fell into the pile, kicking up dust. Blood gurgled from its throat and gushed out of the wound, dribbling onto the bones around it.
Life fading out of its eyes, the creature tried to struggle up; then I heard Kessler scream. She swung her sword and hacked the creature’s head clean off. Blood ran everywhere.
It took me a moment to realize that I was panting. I tried to straighten myself, but fell instead; as I struggled up, I felt a white-hot sensation run up to my face.
Walking towards me with my sword in hand, Kessler looked straight at me – as she handed me my sword, she smiled the only smile I’d ever see from her. “You’re not bad, kid,” she said, clapping me on the back.
Then her expression turned blank again. “Now help me carry this damned thing’s head back.”