Katsujirou
The Street Samurai
Sid Gantry the Witch Hunter rode alone. His horse, a dusty black steed, didn’t mind being on its own. The two were creatures of solitude, and the open road was the only company they cared to have. Down the road and between the mountains marched the Talsean Army, the Blackcoats. Sid could hear their rumblings through the trees. The distant mass of his brothers made the ground vibrate, and their spontaneous drumming was like distant thunder.
It made him think of lightning.
Five years ago…
One hundred men stood in a semicircle facing a leaning wooden shack. Their faces were hidden by the hoods of their black cloaks, dripping at the brim beneath the pouring rain. The night had decided to become a rainstorm, and in its frothy brew there was trouble. The detachment of brothers had been led to the hiding place of a renegade wizard by none other than Lucius The Brew, the greatest Witch Hunter in existence. Lucius the Brew, who had single handedly found and saved dozens of tainted users, men, women and children who had been cursed with their ability to master magic. His collars were legendary.
Lightning cut the sky and thunder shook the shack. “Zarkus Zarkfanein!†Roared Lucius. He looked no different than the brothers around him, blending in with the black coats and lit torches. “We know you are in there! Come out, show us your hands, and kneel!â€
Sid Gantry, a recent graduate of Wicche Hentan, the school of witch hunting, watched Lucius out of the corner of his eye. He tried to stay focused on the small shack, but couldn’t begin to believe that inside there hid a wizard, a person with unimaginable powers, who could slay an army with a thought. Sid wondered, deep down inside his more horrific doubts, how a pack of Witch Hunters could possibly capture Zarkus Zarkfanein, the last Wizard of Talse.
“We are giving you a chance now!†Lucius howled as lightning struck and thunder roared. “Surrender now, Zarkus! You have no chance!â€
From the shack there came not a single sound or reply. Its gaunt wooden frame seemed about to shatter beneath the rain, and its door swung loose on the hinges. There was no lock, no window, and no foundation. Water ran beneath the walls and through the thin roof.
Lucius waited another moment, and then tore off his black cloak. He stood in the center of the semicircle. Water glistened off his sluissrad, the enchanted armor worn by all Witch Hunters, and his jet black hair clung to his thick neck. Lucius the Brew was a tall man, darkened by the magic that protected him. Following suit, ten other hunters hidden between the line of brothers removed their cloaks and stepped forward. “Hunters!†Lucius shouted as he approached the shack. “Line up!â€
Sid followed the other hunters, and together they created a line behind Lucius. He pulled out his canon, the scimitar that caused permanent injury, and placed a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. “This is insane,†he whispered to himself. He had been trained to hunt mages and witches. Wizards required an entirely different strategy. His teachers had said, “All tainted think alike,†yet none were as dangerous as Zarkus Zarkfanein.
Lucius drew his canon. It was no different than any other. He stepped up to the door of the shack, gave one last look over his shoulder at the line of hunters who followed behind, hand to shoulder, and then stepped inside. The line moved forwards, all ten stepping into the tiny shack. Sid could hardly believe what he saw as the man in front of him disappeared into the darkness within, and his hand tightened on the shoulder to remain steady.
Sid reached back into the chapped saddle bag behind him and pulled out a small tin. He tugged off his leather gloves and wrapped the reigns around his saddle horn, and then pulled open the tin. Inside was a white paste that he put on his fingers, and then began to rub into the horrific scar that covered half of his face. He could still feel the burn of Zarkus’ fire.
It made him think of lightning.
~~~
Five years ago…
One hundred men stood in a semicircle facing a leaning wooden shack. Their faces were hidden by the hoods of their black cloaks, dripping at the brim beneath the pouring rain. The night had decided to become a rainstorm, and in its frothy brew there was trouble. The detachment of brothers had been led to the hiding place of a renegade wizard by none other than Lucius The Brew, the greatest Witch Hunter in existence. Lucius the Brew, who had single handedly found and saved dozens of tainted users, men, women and children who had been cursed with their ability to master magic. His collars were legendary.
Lightning cut the sky and thunder shook the shack. “Zarkus Zarkfanein!†Roared Lucius. He looked no different than the brothers around him, blending in with the black coats and lit torches. “We know you are in there! Come out, show us your hands, and kneel!â€
Sid Gantry, a recent graduate of Wicche Hentan, the school of witch hunting, watched Lucius out of the corner of his eye. He tried to stay focused on the small shack, but couldn’t begin to believe that inside there hid a wizard, a person with unimaginable powers, who could slay an army with a thought. Sid wondered, deep down inside his more horrific doubts, how a pack of Witch Hunters could possibly capture Zarkus Zarkfanein, the last Wizard of Talse.
“We are giving you a chance now!†Lucius howled as lightning struck and thunder roared. “Surrender now, Zarkus! You have no chance!â€
From the shack there came not a single sound or reply. Its gaunt wooden frame seemed about to shatter beneath the rain, and its door swung loose on the hinges. There was no lock, no window, and no foundation. Water ran beneath the walls and through the thin roof.
Lucius waited another moment, and then tore off his black cloak. He stood in the center of the semicircle. Water glistened off his sluissrad, the enchanted armor worn by all Witch Hunters, and his jet black hair clung to his thick neck. Lucius the Brew was a tall man, darkened by the magic that protected him. Following suit, ten other hunters hidden between the line of brothers removed their cloaks and stepped forward. “Hunters!†Lucius shouted as he approached the shack. “Line up!â€
Sid followed the other hunters, and together they created a line behind Lucius. He pulled out his canon, the scimitar that caused permanent injury, and placed a hand on the shoulder of the man in front of him. “This is insane,†he whispered to himself. He had been trained to hunt mages and witches. Wizards required an entirely different strategy. His teachers had said, “All tainted think alike,†yet none were as dangerous as Zarkus Zarkfanein.
Lucius drew his canon. It was no different than any other. He stepped up to the door of the shack, gave one last look over his shoulder at the line of hunters who followed behind, hand to shoulder, and then stepped inside. The line moved forwards, all ten stepping into the tiny shack. Sid could hardly believe what he saw as the man in front of him disappeared into the darkness within, and his hand tightened on the shoulder to remain steady.
~~~
Sid reached back into the chapped saddle bag behind him and pulled out a small tin. He tugged off his leather gloves and wrapped the reigns around his saddle horn, and then pulled open the tin. Inside was a white paste that he put on his fingers, and then began to rub into the horrific scar that covered half of his face. He could still feel the burn of Zarkus’ fire.