Satin Rose and the Witch Hunters

10. Hunters at the Gate

Before we even neared the square, we were already muscling our way through crowds of onlookers that came far and wide to see the festivities. Many would agree that the city was no longer the shining landmark that it once was, but few would argue that fanfare had ever changed.

Color flooded the street, a bright menagerie of furs, feathers, leathers, and more. It seemed that everyone was competing on who could stand out the most while also simultaneously competing against the actual décor of the festival. The only indication of which was the emerald green triangles that crisscrossed the street.

From every street corner came the sound of a dozen different musicians vying to be heard over the shop keepers harking and the onlookers not buying. Shops from who knows where had come to set themselves up on any and every piece of public land that didn't immediately kick them out. Their harking was only matched by the thousands of people that come to the city in droves. Small stages with dances had people swaying on the streets. Toys and trumpets shrieked through the air as children ran through the crowds without a care in the worlds.

It was an affront to the senses.

As we neared the square I pointed to the tip of a spire that was barely visible over the sea of heads. I shouted to both Phinion and Christopher, "We need to get to the fountain!"

Hugging my cloak tightly, there wasn't much on me that could be snatched, but I still didn't want to chance it. Even with the light sun overhead a chill was beggan to run down my spine, was this even the right place? The note couldn't have been that obvious. How would an initiation be even held over this racket?

Being specifically mentioned in the note, I assumed that the fountain was of some importance. At the very least we could have found some place to huddle together and think of what to do next.

Suddenly Phin held my hood and pulled me back. Stumbling my arms flailed and I caught onto Christophers straps, almost toppling the both of us, but managing to stand straight again. Shaking my head free from the hood I would have turned to confront Phin if not for the giant in armor that had appeared before us. A suit of polished grey, a coarse black cape, and an eyepatch that hid the heart of a scar. well. We barely came up to half his height. A Witch Hunter.

He looked us over sharply and I straightened up with a bead of sweat. The sound of the festival dimmed and the possibility that we were about to be made an example of in the middle of the square was no longer zero. The Hunter's smile was no more than the slightest of curves on his cut lips.

"You boys aren't planning on trouble are you?" He asked in a voice so deep it could have tunneled under mountains.

"No sir," Christopher responded nonchalantly, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Satin just happens to like dressing like a hoodlum from time to time."

The man nodded, his gaze already faraway. A candy apple was in one of his great gloved hands. He bit into it with a crunch. "Enjoy the festival then," he said walking past us and patting my head heavily.

From behind him we could see the fountain clearly. Compared to the rest of the square it was barren. No one was there except other Witch Hunters sitting on the fountains edge, all armored in leather and all lounging around with candy apples each. One of them waved at us with a cheery smile. Our group quickly made our way to the Square's edge. They had a perimeter around the entire fountain where no one was allowed to step in and the giant of a man was assigned the task of ominously in the way other children.

Seeing a small stack of crates we decided to rest there.

"Soooo..." Phin trailed off as he slowly rapped his knuckles on the wood.