[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/g2U0jda.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/kCXOO5b.png[/img] [h3][color=RosyBrown]Time: Sola 26th[/color] [color=RosyBrown]Location: On His Way to Sorian[/color][/h3] [youtube]https://youtu.be/DilmYbzxO4A?si=0aKzMGNlNLm9FIcQ[/youtube][/center] [color=lightgray] The candlelight flickered weakly as a cold wind slithered through the cracks of the modest home. Laudna clutched Henrik to her chest, rocking him absentmindedly while her young daughter Melissa sat still at the table, eyes fixed on the empty plate before her. The scent of roasting meat filled the air, but neither woman took comfort in it. Their world had already begun to unravel. A heavy knock came at the door. The room tensed as if the walls themselves could sense the coming storm. Laudna hesitated before answering, looking to an empty corner of the room as though she was searching for answers as she smoothed the wrinkles from her apron with a trembling hand. When she opened the door, she found a man there, draped in an unforgiving ensemble of black, a stark contrast against the humble home’s candlelit warmth. His long coat, dark as a moonless night, was lined with deep crimson that flashed like fresh blood whenever he moved. The high collar framed his angular face in harsh shadows, giving him the appearance of something sculpted from obsidian and command. Beneath the coat, a fitted black doublet clung to his broad frame, its fabric heavy with reinforced stitching, hinting at both durability and calculated precision. Dark leather gloves encased his hands, supple yet well-worn, the kind that knew both the hilt of a blade and the cold grip of a throat. His boots, polished to a dull sheen, bore the scuffs of travel but none of neglect—each step measured, deliberate, echoing with quiet authority. The true weight of his presence lay in the details—the subtle insignia embroidered in dark thread upon his chest, a mark of his station that needed no gaudy embellishment; the way his belt sat heavy with the tools of his trade. There was no warmth in his attire, no softness, no indulgence. It was the garb of a man who had stripped himself of excess, leaving only what was necessary to uphold his purpose. His hair, thick but white like a man well beyond his years, despite him only seeming to be in his 30s, emphasized the stark lines of his face. The dim light cast deep shadows over his strong jaw and the hollow beneath his perfect cheekbones. Every movement he made was deliberate, as though the very air bent to his will, and his presence carried the quiet weight of inevitability. But it was his flail that drew the most attention. Spiked and ancient, it hung idly from his belt like a specter of death itself, its heavy iron head engraved with symbols long forbidden. It was not merely a weapon—it was a sentence, a promise, a curse. His piercing gaze swept over the dimly lit home before settling on Laudna’s face. [color=RosyBrown]"Good evening,"[/color] he greeted, voice smooth and measured. [color=RosyBrown]"I understand your family has been through quite an ordeal. I won’t take much of your time. Just a few questions. If you’ll have me."[/color] Laudna swallowed hard. She nodded, stepping aside as Kilian entered without waiting for an invitation. His boots clunked against the wooden floor, slow and deliberate. He took in the surroundings—a humble hearth, a table set for supper, four chairs pulled out, though there were only three members of the family before him. His attention turned to the heavenly aroma wafting through the air. [color=RosyBrown]"Ah,"[/color] Kilian said, inhaling deeply. [color=RosyBrown]"That smells divine. What are we having?"[/color] Laudna opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat. Melissa, who couldn’t be more than ten or eleven years of age, answered with a forced politeness as though she were much older. [color=Turquoise]"Rabbit stew, sir."[/color] Kilian smiled and unbuckled his flail, setting it onto the table with a dull thud. [color=RosyBrown]"Then I shall join you. It would be a shame to let such a fine meal go to waste. Don’t worry, you will be compensated for the hospitality."[/color] He sat at the head of the table; in the seat a father would normally take. Laudna hesitated for only a moment before mechanically serving him a portion. Kilian took his time, slicing his meat with precision, chewing thoughtfully. The silence stretched, save for the crackling of the fire. They ate in relative silence save for the coos and occasional whines of young Henrik. Eventually though, Kilian broke the quiet as his gaze found that of Laudna’s. [color=RosyBrown]"You must have been relieved when you heard your husband was to hang. A poacher and a horse thief—shameful crimes. But then, what a spectacle that must have been."[/color] He chuckled, shaking his head. [color=RosyBrown]"Vanished into thin air. Right there on the gallows. There one second…gone the next. Some say it was a miracle, others could have sworn it was the work of devils. What do you make of that, seeing as it was your husband who pulled off such a deed?"[/color] Laudna fumbled with her spoon. [color=Plum]"I—I wouldn’t know, sir. We weren’t there."[/color] [color=RosyBrown]"Of course, of course."[/color] Kilian took another bite. [color=RosyBrown]"Strange business, though, wouldn’t you agree? Not many men survive the noose, even less escape it like ol’ Martin did."[/color] Laudna clenched Henrik tighter as he began to fuss. Kilian leaned back in his chair, stretching leisurely, before his eyes flicked across the room. He noted the way the air around the corner of the house stirred slightly, how the dust did not settle quite right. Kilian smiled to himself. [color=RosyBrown]"A man who can disappear like that must be very blessed… or very cursed. Either way, magic is simply not allowed…Which, as I’m sure you can guess, is why I have come here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he went, would you?"[/color] Laudna’s lips parted, but no answer came. Kilian hummed. [color=RosyBrown]"No matter."[/color] He continued to eat, savoring every bite, letting the weight of his presence press down upon them like an anvil. He made idle talk—Melissa’s age, Henrik’s temperament, the weather, the quality of their home. Laudna answered in clipped sentences, her voice growing more unsteady. The tension was suffocating, each moment stretching unbearably long. [color=RosyBrown]"You must love your husband very much,"[/color] Kilian mused. [color=RosyBrown]"He provided well for you, despite his... methods."[/color] Laudna’s knuckles whitened as she gripped Henrik. [color=Plum]"He did what we had to, sir."[/color] Kilian nodded, feigning understanding. [color=RosyBrown]"A shame that sometimes necessity and law do not align. A shame indeed. Especially when those close to us turn to such vile techniques such as the arcane."[/color] His eyes moved to meet with the young girl’s. [color=RosyBrown]"Tell me, child, did you love your father?"[/color] Melissa blinked, caught off guard. She glanced at her mother, unsure. [color=Turquoise]"Y-yes, sir."[/color] [color=RosyBrown]"Did he love you?"[/color] [color=Turquoise]"Yes, sir,"[/color] she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. [color=RosyBrown]"And yet he left you, didn’t he?"[/color] Kilian leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. [color=RosyBrown]"A man who truly loves his family wouldn’t run, would he? He would stay. Protect. Provide. And yet, he is nowhere to be found."[/color] Tears welled in Melissa’s eyes, but she held her breath, refusing to let them fall. [color=Turquoise]"He didn’t leave us."[/color] [color=RosyBrown]"No?"[/color] Kilian’s voice remained pleasant, almost amused. [color=RosyBrown]"Then where is he?"[/color] Melissa swallowed hard, staring down at her untouched plate. She was a child, but she was not foolish. She knew the wrong answer could mean a terrible outcome. [color=Turquoise]"I... don’t know, sir."[/color] Kilian studied her for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose as if disappointed. [color=RosyBrown]"How unfortunate. I was hoping he at least had the decency to tell his own daughter goodbye."[/color] Melissa’s shoulders trembled, her lower lip quivering as she clenched her hands into fists beneath the table. Kilian watched with detached curiosity, then leaned back in his chair. [color=RosyBrown]"Some fathers are better than others, I suppose."[/color] And then, Kilian stood. He wandered casually, eyes tracing the modest decor, fingers grazing over the rough wooden furniture. He took a long breath, as though appreciating the air itself, before his gaze landed on the corner. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the old clock, the occasional creak of shifting wood, and the uneven breaths of the family. Every inhale, every exhale, dragged through the air like a rusted knife. Kilian exhaled slowly, almost thoughtfully, before tilting his head curiously. His voice, when it came, was measured. Almost gentle. [color=RosyBrown]“Tell me, girl.”[/color] His eyes never left the corner of the room as he spoke to Melissa. [color=RosyBrown]“How much does your father mean to you?”[/color] The room held its breath. Melissa’s lips parted, but no words came. The firelight cast shadows across his face, making the angles of his features sharper, hollowed. [color=RosyBrown]“Go on,”[/color] he murmured. [color=RosyBrown]“I want to hear it.”[/color] A shuddered breath. Her fingers clenched tighter in her lap. [color=Turquoise]“He—he means everything to me,”[/color] she whispered. Kilian blinked once, slow, deliberate. [color=RosyBrown]“Everything.”[/color] He let the word settle, his voice barely above the crackle of the fire. [color=RosyBrown]“A daughter’s devotion. It’s a powerful thing.”[/color] He took a step closer to the corner, dragging the moment out, his boots scraping softly against the floor as he dragged his feet. The room felt smaller. Tighter. Martin moved before he thought. A wild, desperate rush toward the door. But Kilian was faster. [i]Much faster.[/i] [h1][center][color=red]TRIGGER WARNING: EXTREME VIOLENCE[/color][/center][/h1] Then, without hesitation, he lunged—his hand shooting forward, gripping the invisible throat of the man who thought himself unseen. A strangled gasp choked through the still air as Martin materialized, feet kicking helplessly against the floorboards. Laudna screamed. Melissa burst into hysterical tears. Kilian’s expression never wavered. [color=RosyBrown]"Not every father deserves such devotion... Magic and corruption walk hand in hand, Martin,"[/color] he said. [color=RosyBrown]"And both must be purged."[/color] With a monstrous force, he dragged Martin toward the hearth, the flames casting a violent dance across the room. Then, with terrifying finality, he slammed Martin’s head against the stone. Once. Twice. Again. The sickening crunch echoed through the house, drowning out the sobs. Blood spattered across the brick, across Kilian’s hand, across the floor where Martin’s body slumped, twitching before falling still. For a split second there was no sound at all. Only silence. Melissa had collapsed into muffled sobs, her hands pressed over her mouth. Laudna, still clutching Henrik, had gone deathly pale, her lips trembling as if she were trying to will herself into nonexistence. The fire hissed as droplets of blood sizzled upon the embers. Kilian exhaled softly, releasing the ruined corpse as if he were merely discarding a rag. The moment Martin’s body hit the floor, the sickening wet slap rang louder than the crackling fire. A metallic scent thickened in the air, sharp and cloying. Laudna’s mind numbly registered the color...deep crimson pooling at Kilian’s feet, soaking into the worn wooden planks. Bending down, Kilian searched the man briefly before finding and ripping the enchanted bracelet from his limp wrist…and without even inspecting it he tossed it into the fire to be burned away into nothingness. The firelight caught the sheen of fresh blood glistening on his gloves, streaked and seeping into the creases of the leather. He flexed his fingers once, the motion slow and deliberate, smearing the warmth across his palm. He turned, adjusting his cuffs, brushing away a splatter of red from his collar. Kilian strode back to the table, picked up his fork, and took one final bite of the rabbit stew. He closed his eyes in appreciation. [color=RosyBrown]"Exquisite."[/color] Then, reaching into his coat, he produced a single gold coin and placed it gently in Laudna’s trembling hands. Her fingers barely curled around it, her breath coming in ragged gasps. [color=RosyBrown]"For my dinner,"[/color] Kilian said smoothly, his voice untouched by the horror he had wrought. The scent of iron was suffocating now, clinging to the back of Laudna’s throat. The candle flames shuddered as though the house itself recoiled from what had been done. Kilian turned to leave, but just as he reached the threshold, he paused. The Witch Hunter glanced over his shoulder, watching the shattered remains of a family he had just destroyed. [color=RosyBrown]"Raise your children well, woman. The sins of the father need not pass to the son, or..."[/color] His eyes turned to Melissa with indifference. [color=RosyBrown]"...to the daughter."[/color] And with that, he stepped into the night, leaving behind only the weeping of a widow and her now, fatherless children. [/color]