The sun had barely risen above the rooftops when Theiden was awoken by a scream. He stumbled out of bed and snatched the hunting knife from his nightstand before running down the hall to his daughter's room.
With a single shove of his shoulder against the door, he burst into the room and looked around for the danger.
Em was tangled up in her sheets, eyes closed and a frown creasing her forehead in sleep.
"Please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me!" she begged, tossing and turning as the blankets further tangled and restricted her movements even more.
"Em!" Theiden rushed to kneel at his daughter's bedside and dropped the knife on the floor.
"Em, wake up!" he urged, gently shaking her shoulders. "It's only a dream."
Em's eyes opened with a gasp, and she looked around the room fearfully before settling her gaze on her father.
Her lower lip trembled. "Papa..."
"Shh, it's all right," he said, holding her as she sat up and began to cry into his shoulder. "It was just a bad dream."
Face still buried against his shirt, Em vehemently shook her head.
"It wasn't," he muffled voice protested. "It was the witch cursing me again."
Theiden rubbed her back comfortingly. "That's all in the past," he said.
Slowly, Em raised her head. "Papa, the witch is so scary. How did you survive?"
Theiden took a breath and pulled her back so he could look at her. "She's not all that bad, once you get to know her," he said. "Some of the witches, like Lenesa, are actually working to protect us from the real monsters in the forest. But when you met her, she had to pretend to be mean to scare you back home, since you were misbehaving."
Em frowned again. "Why didn't she just ask me nicely to go back instead?"
Theiden raised his eyebrows. "Would you have listened?"
"I—" Em paused, then let out a grumpy huff. "Hide and seek is no fun if you can't find the other person. Once I found Helaine, I would have gone home."
"And how long would that have taken, hmm?" Theiden asked, gently tapping her nose. "Long enough for a wolf to eat you?"
"Papa!"
Theiden's teasing tone turned serious. "Emmaline, while I am relieved that you are safe and I've missed you so much, I am still very disappointed in you. You disregarded my warnings and directly disobeyed your grandmother's orders to stay inside the city when you left to go play with Helaine that afternoon. You're lucky that Lenesa only gave you a scare. Much worse things could have happened."
Em's young mind was still in denial. "I would've been fine, Papa!" she insisted.
"And is Helaine fine?" Theiden snapped.
Em's eyes widened and for the first time reflected a bit of fear at the possibility of what Theiden already knew to be true. "She'll show up soon...you did..."
Theiden shook his head. "You don't understand, Em," he said. "The forest is a dangerous place. Lenesa saved you by scaring you back home that night. Not everyone has a happy ending after venturing outside the city. Your mother's fate should have taught you that."
Em's lower lip trembled, and her eyes began to water. "Then why'd you have to go leave?" she protested. "You left me and Grandma all alone! Everyone was so mean to us, and we were hungry!"
Theiden brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I did it for you," he said. "How was I supposed to know if you would ever go back to normal? I'm not about to let you live with a curse for the rest of your life. Besides, I hunt in the forest nearly every day. I know my way around much better than you do."
"Not better enough to not get caught, apparently."
Theiden gave a start and turned to the doorway, where his mother was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
Theiden took a breath. "I—"
He was interrupted by a fist banging against the front door downstairs, and his mother turned to glance nervously out of the hall. Beside him, Em gave a frightened gasp.
Theiden picked the hunting knife back off the floor and rose to his feet.
"Stay here," he muttered to the two of them, stepping carefully out into the hall and made his way down the stairs.
The banging continued as he crossed the foyer, knife clutched tightly in his hand.
"Papa, who is it?" Em whispered loudly from the top of the stairs. Her grandmother immediately hushed her, and Theiden didn't bother to respond as he yanked open the door.
"About time!" the tall, long-haired figure on the other side exclaimed. Theiden slowly lowered his knife.
"Tareth, is it?" he asked, and was answered with a nod. "What are you doing here?"
The witch hunter crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Decliteur sent me. He's finished reviewing your application that you sent in before you disappeared."
"My...application?" Theiden felt a growing sense of dread as he remembered how he had applied to join the witch hunters months earlier.
Tareth continued, oblivious to Theiden's unease. "Yeah. We decided you should join us. I've been sent to bring you to our headquarters right away." He reached up and scratched the side of his nose, looking expectantly at Theiden.
"I, well—after being away from home for so long, I don't think—" Theiden began.
"With both the witch's attack at the river gate last night and a strange red monster loose in the city, it's more important than ever that we have loyal citizens who will defend our home from these terrors," Tareth warned. "And especially someone like you, who's been tormented by them for so long—well, it just wouldn't make sense if you didn't join us. People would think you've been bewitched."
Theiden bit back the protest on his lips and clenched his jaw. It was his fault he hadn't made sure that Gil wouldn't escape when he turned back to his nocturnal goblin form, and it had only sent the city into a panic the previous night to see the creature jumping across rooftops and growling down at terrified passerby. They hadn't managed to catch him, but now there was a teacup sitting somewhere in the middle of the city, and Theiden had hoped to find the creature before it changed back again that night.
But he couldn't dispute Tareth's words. The man's reasoning had him backed up against a wall. Theiden had applied of his own accord, and if he were to refuse now, it would only bring him under suspicion for harboring sympathetic feelings towards the witches.
"All right," Theiden said at last. "Let me get my things and I'll be with you in a moment."
"Where are you going, Papa?" Em asked, scurrying down the stairs and following after him as he went about the house to prepare for his departure.
Theiden turned to look at her.
"Stay here with your grandmother, okay?" he told her. "I'll be back by the end of the day."
Em's eyes widened in unspoken fear, and Theiden looked over to his mother, where her stony expression confirmed his thoughts. They both had heard a similar promise before, when he'd gone off after Lenesa.
"I'm not leaving the city this time," he told both of them. "There's nothing to fear."
His mother crossed her arms and gave a disbelieving scoff, but Em bravely nodded.
"Okay, Papa," she said. "Come back soon."
Theiden gave an encouraging nod despite the lump in his throat, and turned back towards the door.
"Ready?" Tareth was leaning against the outside wall next to the door and stood up when Theiden stepped outside.
Theiden nodded. "Lead the way."
Tareth made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat and set off up the street. The clouds this morning were bruised and raw from their fit the previous day, looming overhead like giant clumps of scraggly wool. Theiden kept his gaze upwards as they navigated through the streets, warily looking out for a red teacup teetering on the ledge of a gutter above, but there was no sign of the little goblin anywhere.
"Here," Tareth said, suddenly coming to a stop in front of an old, brown building. From Theiden's perspective, he could tell that a few slate tiles were missing from the roof, and the windows on the first floor were darkened by either heavy curtains or boards from the inside.
Tareth pulled out a key and unlocked the thick wooden door. "After you," he said, holding it open.
Theiden let out a breath and stepped inside. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior, where candles burned on tall floor-length candelabras and illuminated the arched white-washed hallway before him.
"Take the third left," Tareth directed from behind Theiden's shoulder. This led them down a set of steep steps and then opened into a large high-ceilinged room with small windows at the top that Theiden realized were at street level. All along the walls, bows, swords, halberds, and spears were mounted both for display and accessibility for practice. Painted targets were lined up along the far wall, and a cluster of straw dummies grouped in a corner. Lines chalked on the flagstones further confirmed Theiden's assumption that they had reached the witch hunters' practice room.
"You've come at last." The unmistakable gravelly voice of the head witch hunter echoed around them, and Theiden turned to see Decliteur descend another set of stairs from the right side of the room, followed by Callan and another witch hunter. Theiden frowned. The place was like a maze, and surely bigger inside and underground than the ordinary brown building they had entered suggested. The group had most likely bought several of the surrounding buildings over time and connected them to create their enormous headquarters. The city certainly paid them well enough for them to have done so.
"I have," Theiden said. "Why are we here?"
Decliteur raised an eyebrow. "To test your skills, of course."
"With what?"
Rather than answer, the head witch hunter gave a nod to Callan, who rubbed his hands together in anticipation and strode to the nearest wall to pick a halberd off its display hooks. He gave it a few experimental swings, grinning widely, then turned to face Theiden, who took a step back.
"Um, what..."
"Pick a weapon," Tareth encouraged. "Let's see how well you fight."
Theiden gave an incredulous scoff. "You're not worried about us accidentally killing each other?"
Tareth shrugged. "The fight stops after the first person to draw blood. How else are you supposed to decide a victor?"
Decliteur and the other witch hunter looked on, seemingly in agreement of the dangerous stakes. Theiden felt his lips thin in grim disapproval, but finally strode over to the left wall and picked out a sword at random. His instinct was to go with a bow, since it was so familiar to him after all of his hunting, but he didn't know where the arrows were kept. Besides, he had been using his long hunting dagger with all his sparring practices with Lenesa lately. A sword shouldn't be much different to wield.
Callan attacked without preamble, lowering the pointed end of the halberd and charging forward. Theiden jumped out of the way and swiped at the weapon with his own, deflecting the sharp pointed end and giving him time enough to move out of reach when the side with the curved blade swung his way. Though Callan was stout, he had enough muscle to easily maneuver the weapon, raising it over his head in an arc before bringing it back down so that it swept past Theiden's knees, too close for comfort.
Though the halberd had a wide range and a strong force, Theiden realized that when Callan had to swing it around for another attack, it left him open to an assault before the weapon could come around again. The halberd lacked control for sudden movements, and if Theiden was able to get in close, it wouldn't be so dangerous—at least, that was what he hoped. He crouched low as they slowly stepped across the room, waiting for his chance.
When Callan next swung the heavy weapon in an arc to gain enough momentum, Theiden lunged, striking out with his sword. Callan stepped back, and rather than completing the arc of his swing, moved his grip up on the handle so that he could use the blade at closer range. Theiden was forced to jump back again and block awkwardly, but the move weakened his grip and his sword was knocked from his grasp. The weapon skidded across the floor, spinning several times before slamming against the wall and coming to a stop.
Theiden ducked into a roll as Callan swung again, jumping up from the floor and grabbing the nearest instrument off the wall—a simple throwing axe—and hurling it Callan's way, who was forced to halt his attack to dodge.
It wasn't enough! Theiden fought to control his breathing and looked around for another weapon to use. Sparring with Lenesa had accustomed him to fighting against an opponent who had the advantage, but he wasn't familiar with all of Callan's weaknesses and didn't know how to use them against him to turn the odds to his favor. Feeling desperate, Theiden reached for a few throwing knives and pushed off from the wall, aiming one at Callan's feet as he ran past.
The witch hunter leveraged the halberd on the ground to launch himself into the air, over the flying dagger and closer to Theiden once more. Again, Theiden tried to throw a dagger, but Callan's move had caught him by surprise and he had to twist awkwardly to aim. The blade flew wide, missing his opponent without Callan ever having to shift away, and then the halberd came back.
Theiden spun to avoid the halberd as it came at him again, barely noticing how Decliteur and the witch hunter beside him stepped out of the way to make room as the fight inched closer to the other set of stairs. He did, however, take note of the fact that he was down to one last dagger, and the sword he had dropped was only a few steps away. When Callan attacked again, Theiden flung the remaining dagger at his opponent's middle and dove for the sword, turning on his back and bringing it up to block just in time to clash with the other weapon.
With their blades locked, Callan stepped closer with a smirk, pressing forward with his weight to gain the upper hand. Theiden grimaced at the strain in his shoulders and the way the rough stone beneath him dug into his back. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Tareth take a hesitant step forward, but Decliteur held up a hand. The fight was not over yet.
Callan's steps were languid, and Theiden could tell that the witch hunter doubted his ability to put up much of a fight now that he was struggling to hold up from an awkward position on the floor. But that was a mistake. At Callan's next step, Theiden kicked up ward with his left foot, hitting against the staff of the halberd and jolting it free of its lock with his own sword. Callan's surprise was enough to let Theiden scramble back to his feet, and he lashed out, catching the witch hunter across the shoulder. The sound of ripping fabric was accompanied by a grunt of pain from Callan, and red drops splattered across the floor.
"Well done!" Decliteur's solo round of applause echoed through the room, announcing an official end to the fight even though Callan's glare as he clutched his wounded arm promised otherwise.
Theiden took another step back, just in case of any impulsive retaliation on Callan's part, and only allowed himself to relax a little when Tareth and the other witch hunter stepped forward to take their weapons.
Decliteur jerked his head in Callan's direction. "Go get cleaned up," he ordered. The command wasn't angry, but Theiden could still detect an underlying layer of disgust in the tone. Callan wordlessly gave a nod in acknowledgement and headed off to the set of stairs that he had entered through earlier.
Once Callan had gone, and with Tareth and the other man picking up the weapons scattered about the room, the head witch hunter turned back to Theiden.
"I'm impressed by your abilities," Decliteur said, crossing his arms. "Most men we take on initially aren't well-versed in hand-to-hand combat. As you're just a hunter, I'd have thought you'd only know how to kill things that run away and don't put up much of a fight. Even most of the city's soldiers are limited in their capabilities."
Theiden tensed, willing his expression to remain neutral. If Decliteur suspected anything, it would bring a world of trouble. Finally, he forced a laugh.
"Really," Theiden said, feigning scorn, "after all that my family has been through, did you really expect that I would have been content to carry on with my life as usual?"
When Decliteur gave no reply, he continued.
"After my wife was killed, I vowed not to let the same thing happen to the rest of my family," Theiden explained. That much was true. "I wanted revenge. I still want revenge. I want to find whoever it was that killed my wife and make her suffer ten times what my family has gone through. So I taught myself how to fight. I experimented with my hunting daggers and got used to dealing with swords, but even now I'm not satisfied with my progress. I know I'm lacking. But joining this organization is the next step to help me achieve my goal. I want to learn more."
It was as close to the truth as he could make it. He didn't want to kill every witch, now that he had gotten to know Lenesa, but he did still feel frustration at the lack of answers as to his wife's death. If he ever learned of the witch who killed Malisse, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
Slowly, Decliteur's lips curved into a devious smile, and he reached out to clap a hand on Theiden's shoulder.
"Welcome to the team."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Late update so I've made the chapter extra long to make up for it. Please vote if you liked it and let me know what you think! I'm a little unsure about writing fight scenes still so let me know if it dragged for too long of if there's anywhere that I can improve. Thanks!