Chapter Text
For centuries, hunters have been a norm.
Their fame, of course, started with regular hunts on animals for food and, eventually, fun, but, with time, it turned to another path.
There was no king to rule the lands for a very long time, and with that, there was no order either. People that lived in villages were only good for raising stock and cultivating fertile lands - the only available protection from anything was provided by some small groups of men skilled with swords who only worked for pay. Eventually, the previously mentioned hunters took the matter in their own hands and obtained the title of protectors. When their home villages were attacked by either a pack of wolves or bandits and petty thieves, they were the ones to act - free-willingly too.
With time, they were the ones people would turn to when in need for help, and during the long period ahead of them, they stayed loyal to their unspoken cause.
Towns started forming; some families evolved from breeding pigs to living a life of gold, and some stayed poor, but hunters were respected regardless of their riches. Children would greet them on the streets, merchants and bakers would lower prices, or even give them goods for free - their own kind of payment for the hunters' deeds.
True, their methods sometimes ranged from merciful to brutal, but it was always excused as necessary, so rarely anyone complained.
In fact, children born in a hunter family would often be praised, since it was considered an honor, and some of those families got famous, and were spoken of most - like the Harvelle's, Campbell's, Winchesters, and some more.
However, like every ruler of any sort, their 'fame' started disappearing when a miracle came to the known lands. Or rather, well, miracle workers.
No one knew where they came from, and they never really told. As they claimed, they were a rather large family from far, unknown lands, but people had some trouble believing their story due to some members being either darker-toned or thin-eyed -- barely any of them actually looked alike.
Any and all doubt the people had, had perished when they learnt of the family's skills. With one touch, they could heal a person's flu, correct someone's limp or hunch -- and they could even return sight, hearing or voice to those who lacked it. They made the unbelievable happen, and left people gasping in awe. It didn't take long until a name for the newcomers started spreading from town to town - the Holy. Christianity had just started its uprise when the family appeared, so it was only adequate to title them as such - and the 'Holy' never complained on it - in fact, they accepted it without a second thought.
The hunters got quickly forgotten and were later even belittled and disgraced, all because of most of them disapproving of the newcomers. Due to that, the Holy were able to kill just as much as heal, with only a flick of a hand, or a simple word. It wasn't out of free will, most of the time, but was instead a response to the hunter's attempted murders.
Many hunters died by the Holy's order, and some families died off, leaving the rest to be treated as dirt pigs roll in.
Those who chose not to fight against the new, had all weapons taken from them and were stripped of most rights, while the merchants that previously gifted, now raised their prices at least twice for them, making a hard life a lot harder.
Aside from being treated like saints, the Holy were treated as royalty just as well; the people bowed as they passed and referred to them as kings and queens.
The crown was the only thing the Holy rejected, however, even if they wore white, pure, royal-like clothing and eventually owned the largest chateau in town that the people ever got to see.
Everyone was so blinded by their capability and 'blessing', that no one saw any wrong in their way of dealing with the hunters who opposed -- which was stake burning.
It was originally the citizen's idea and doing, but the Holy continued their started work - one way of appealing to them more. It was a horrible thing people cheered at, and the remaining hunters feared and despised. If you will, it was like accepted chaos.
Once the Holy 'rule' has been established, and the clear message sent, the hunters held their distance for the sake of safety.
Not even hunter bastards were spared of the hate people spread for their kind, even if they never had anything to do with what hunters did. What mattered to the mob was that the same blood ran through the veins of any hunter. All were equally disrespected.
Eventually, their name was used as another for beggars and thieves, just that, unlike for actual beggars, barely anyone showed mercy on them; so instead of the Holy killing them off, they'd face death either way by starvation or sickness.
With that began a new era of salvation, or to the less fortunate, of damnation.
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Adam Milligan, a boy of dirt blonde hair and grey eyes, has never once counted himself as a hunter, even is one’s bastard. Not that he ever hated them, but he simply had nothing to do with them to see himself as one of them.
His father was a hunter, but Adam never got to meet him, and his mother, Kate, never wished to talk about him. She got pregnant only a couple of months or so before the Holy became authority and the hunters became mistreated and completely replaced.
Unfortunately, she fell ill and passed away when Adam was at the age of ten. It was a quick death, but still a hard one for Adam to deal with. Kate always took utmost care of him, and went to Hell and back to make sure her only son has what he needs to live through the days. She was the only person he could rely on, and, if you will, she was the only friend he had at that time, so aside from having to learn to take care of himself and live on his own, he also had to deal with the loss of both his mother and only pillar.
As depressing as it all turned to be, he never got to the point of giving up on the life given to him. It would be disrespecting to his late mother, and it would make all her efforts end up being done in vein. Not to mention that Kate was a religious person and full of hope at all times, regardless of her being treated just as badly as being a hunter, even if the only crime she's done was give a hunter a son.
Religion wasn't something Adam himself favored too much, nor did he lift the Holy to the Heavens like everyone else, but it was an interesting thing to believe in every now and then - God and all that business. He never even pinned too much of the blame on them for the conditions he grew up in - his mother avoided teaching him to hate anyone for their lives. There was just too much of that emotion going around then.
Despite everything, Adam didn't live on his own for too long after his mother's passing.
A few gypsy families traveled to the town, and established their little home yurts just outside the town's walls.
They were... unusual, to say the least.
The common folk were mostly grumpy around him and only cheered and smiled when talking about, or being near a Holy. These newcomers, though... it was as if they celebrated simply being alive. They lacked money, but it never bothered them; they lacked quality clothes and rights almost just as much as hunters, but that never seemed to have bothered them either. What they cared about the most was music, dancing, and life -- honestly, they often managed to make Adam smile just by doing what they do, and being themselves.
In due course, he made some friends among them, and as time passed, they welcomed him as their own.
It didn't matter to them that Adam wasn't of their blood, much less that he's a hunter's bastard.
They decided he was worthy of their respect and liking the moment they noticed the young boy liking them as they are -- for them, that was enough. Some gypsy kids that were around his age even treated him as their own brother, and it didn't take long for Adam to get used to calling them his siblings himself.
That was nearly six years before this moment.
Now, he and his 'siblings' would spread cheer throughout the town and its taverns, but they would also cause trouble for the guards in the time being. It was almost easy for everyone to forget Adam's true origin, and learn to title him as 'one of those damned gypsies'.
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All of the Holy members were equally adored, but only some were known, or rather, spoken of more than the rest.
There were more family members of theirs scattered in other towns, but the head, as most assumed, at least in this town - Whiteridge, was Zachariah. The man seemed to be around the age of fifty, which was uncommon due to illnesses and such, but that, of course, was also taken as a miracle among the people.
One would imagine the leader being serious, and that's exactly what Zachariah is, just, in his own way. Despite showing care for the loyal town folk, and mostly being strict to the members of their so-called family, the man had some wit to him -- the type that, in some small and discreet way belittled those he spoke to, be that his family or the people, who yet again were blind to it.
In appearance, he was a grey eyed, balding man with an almost-always present sly smile on his face. It was so rare to see him without that smile, that people usually got intimidated, which would probably be the man's intention.
As it became obvious at some point, the next in line to be in command after him was Michael, a young man just leaving his teen years, not even reaching twenty. His hair was short and combed aside, and his eyes had a lovely shade of a color that varied between blue and gray. At times, it would even appear as if there was a tad of green in them as well. Lightly put, the young man's appearance was quite awe worthy, and young girls that were waiting for a perfect man to ask for their hand in marriage, often saw that man in him, and simply waited, or tried reaching for his attention whenever possible.
He wasn't the only pretty one in the family, but perhaps his supposed future role was what drove women to him.
Although, the very reason Michael was going to take on after Zachariah, was because he was more serious and rule following than his relatives. Due to that, he couldn't even notice anyone's attraction to him, much less react or answer to them. His mind was almost trained to focus on his duties, which was exactly what Zachariah favored in him.
Michael never even talked much; only speaking when asked something or when he was required to during certain events.
The one he got along with most was Raphael, who was in some aspects, quite similar to him, the only difference being the fact that Raphael had a shorter fuse and an ill temper.
The other was darker toned, dark eyed, and seemingly always had some serious frown on his face. He was a couple or so years older than Michael, and a bit more passionate about the family business, so he was often the one Michael sought advice from.
There were also some other so called siblings, like Gabriel, who mostly spent his time nibbling on sweets and somehow not gaining weight. Balthazar, who was spending his time socializing more than doing his work, and Anna, who was probably the only Holy child, or rather young teen in Whiteridge.
Gabriel and Balthazar were the only ones who somewhat opposed Zachariah's given rules - one of them being not mingling with the citizens, but the two did just that on a regular, daily basis - spending their times in taverns, or pulling young women's legs with pointless flirtations and kind words. However, the two of them were also the only ones who had no problem being around hunters whatsoever, while Raphael shared Zachariah's hate, and Michael claiming not to have an opinion on them.
Being individually different as they were, they seemed to get along quite well. That, or they acted really well towards each other in front of the public, and the only times it could be questioned was when there was either a festival or the public stake burning they needed to attend. And the latter, probably, the only ones enjoying it were Zachariah, and probably to some point even Raphael, and it was the only thing that ever unsettled Michael about them.
However, not even he could complain to the man in charge.