[Somewhere in the Appalachian Mountains, March 2023]
The wind moved through the dense Appalachian forest with a low, restless murmur as it pushed through a cluster of blackened branches and dead leaves that still had yet to give way to spring's embrace. The March air still carried winter's bones in this stretch of rustic mountain terrain, almost as if it were still the middle of January. The cold clung to the ground in long shadows. And the sky above the ridges had already begun to fade toward the evening.
The bruised and bleeding man currently running through the trees, however, knew the forest well enough to recognize that the darkness would come early. And not a minute too soon.
But in all honesty, he was starting to have doubts as to whether or not he would live to even see it.
The man's boots slipped against the damp earth beneath his feet as he forced himself forward. His breath tearing through his chest in ragged bursts as he desperately willed his body to keep moving despite the pain. Pine needles scratched against his exposed arms. And his hands shook, not from the cold, but from exhaustion. Or more likely, from the fear was rushing through his senses like a raging river.
They were here.
He could practically feel them getting closer with each passing step.
Sorcerer hunters.
Inquisitors.
The man slowed for a moment, just enough to listen to his surroundings as if they would give him some kind of clue as to where his pursuers might've gone in all of the chaos.
Nothing.
Silence.
Only the wind.
Only the branches.
Only the distant groan of trees shifting against one another.
This was one of, if not the most, bothersome things about fighting against regular humans. Unlike how one could do for other sorcerers, tracking their location through mana-sensing was impossible. It was an evolutionary disadvantage that ironically gave their kind a massive advantage when it came to sneak attacks. One that allowed them to evade any sort of immediate detection unless one had a cryptid with a strong enough nose or ears to make up for the difference.
The man's lungs still burned with each passing breath. And the river of sweat running down his face stung his eyes like pepper spray. He had been on the run for the better part of an hour by now. And for some unknown reason, he still hadn't shaken his pursuers. It was like they knew exactly where he was at all times. Which meant that they were either tracking him, or he was being a lot more sloppy than he hoped.
Slowly, carefully, the man raised one trembling hand in front of him, and a thin flicker of flame bloomed across his palm. It was already too dark to properly see anything in front of him. And he needed to get his bearings before he continued his escape.
Orange light briefly illuminated the bark of the surrounding trees. The glow cast frantic shadows across the forest floor before he clenched his fist and extinguished it.
Too bright. Too obvious. But quick enough not to notice.
He swallowed hard. "Alright, I should be able to-"
A metallic click interrupted him.
The sound came from behind, and the nameless sorcerer instantly spun around to see where exactly it came from. Unfortunately for him, his worst fears were confirmed the moment he raised his gaze toward the barely-lit sky above him.
Three figures stood among the trees atop a nearby ledge of stone. Somehow, they had all appeared so silently that it was almost unnatural. Not even so much as a leaf was put out of place in the time it took them to track him down. The three figures were all wearing those dreadful black-and-red uniforms their order was known for. And the odd equipment that they were wearing looked like something straight out of a sci-fi video game.
'Fuck!'
The tallest among the trio stepped forward first.
The man's pale blonde hair caught what little gray light remained in the sky, the near-platinum strands stark against the dark woods. His coat was heavy and reinforced, lined with dark plates and metal fittings. And those pale blue eyes regarded the sorcerer with a calm, almost clinical focus.
Behind him stood his two companions. Both of whom looked just as dangerous as he did.
The first was a woman with shiny auburn hair that was pulled back into a tight bun, with a few loose strands brushing her pale cheeks into the wind. A compact device hung from a strap across her chest, one with wires coiling around its frame. Blue lights pulsed faintly along its edges as it scanned the air.
The second, the youngest looking of the three, looked almost skeletal in the dim light. He had ashen skin stretched across a narrow face, and brown eyes that looked both hollow and watchful beneath the shadow of the hood he wore. His shaved head gleamed faintly with sweat or dew. But in his hands rested a long weapon unlike any rifle the sorcerer had ever seen: black metal lined with silver coils and a glowing circular chamber near the barrel.
The sorcerer stared at the trio in disbelief. Then, his heart sank.
"Inquisitors…" He whispered, despite himself.
The redheaded woman's device chirped softly as she looked down at the man.
"Well, well, well…" She said calmly. "You've certainly proven yourself to be quite the slippery little monster."
Without so much as a word, the sorcerer raised his hands, and the flames instantly roared to life. Coils of mana-enhanced fire wrapped around his arms like living creatures, spiraling up to his elbows. The air around him crackled with heat, and sparks scattered across the forest floor as the man got ready to defend himself.
"Stay back!" The sorcerer shouted, voice shaking. "I swear I'll burn this whole fucking mountain down if I have to!"
The platinum blonde did not react. Instead, he tilted his head slightly.
"Go ahead and try it."
The youngest of the three hunters moved first. The rifle-like weapon that the bald man was holding hummed briefly before a pulse of blue energy erupted from the barrel, only a millisecond before its ammunition came flying out of it.
The sorcerer reacted instinctively. A wall of fire exploded outward from his hands, and a flash of orange erupted in the forest.
Heat slammed into the advancing Inquisitors, but the flames failed to meet their mark as the trio used those strange, metallic exoskeletons that they were all wearing to jump out of the way. A jump that no normal human should've been capable of. The fire bent away, collapsing into sparks that died before touching them.
The sorcerer's eyes widened.
The redhead raised her device.
"Your flames aren't all that impressive." She said with a slight grin. "I've seen other demons with your powers that were way stronger."
A sharp metallic sound snapped through the forest.
The bald man fired again.
This time, however, instead of a standard bullet, it was a small canister in the shape of a grenade-launcher round. One that burst open midair into a net of glowing wires.
The sorcerer tried to leap aside, but he was unfortunately too slow due to the injuries he had sustained earlier.
The net wrapped around him and tightened instantly. And the moment the wires touched his body, the flames around his arms vanished.
Not weakened.
Not reduced.
Vanished.
Completely gone.
The sorcerer collapsed to his knees with a strangled cry. "Fuck!"
The platinum blonde man, who was apparently the leader of this outfit, then made his approach. The tall Inquisitor crouched in front of the nameless sorcerer, studying the trapped man with those cold, pale blue eyes that looked as though they were trying to peer directly into the man's soul.
The sorcerer struggled against the net. But the wires glowed brighter in response, tightening like constricting snakes. They were working exactly the same way that a mana-suppressant would.
"Why?" The sorcerer gasped. "I didn't hurt anyone. Why are you doing this?"
The redhead woman stepped closer, scanning him again with the strange device that she was carrying before speaking up. "Energy output confirmed, D-rank. Probably self-trained, judging by how he uses his powers."
The bald boy watched silently, rifle still raised. And the platinum-blonde reached into his coat.
"Please!" The sorcerer said, desperation breaking through his voice. "You don't have to—"
The blonde pulled out a knife before the captured man could even finish what he wanted to say. It looked simple at first glance, almost indistinguishable from any other knife. But its blade was etched with intricate lines of silver metal that shimmered faintly in the dying light. Shimmered in a way that only one kind of material seemed to be able to do.
Anti-magic steel. An unholy amalgamation of certain elements that could put even the strongest of sorcerers on their ass if they weren't careful.
The sorcerer's face drained of color.
"No…." He whispered.
The platinum-blonde man held the knife loosely before turning his attention toward his newest companion. "Eric."
The younger Inquisitor stepped forward as he pulled out a similar blade.
The redhead watched calmly, arms folded across her chest, as she seemed to enjoy what was happening before her.
The platinum-blonde Inquisitor grabbed the sorcerer by the collar and pulled him upright. The man barely resisted now. The net had zapped away whatever strength he had left. And the tears streaked through the dirt on his face as he desperately tried to fight them back.
"I just wanted to live somewhere quiet…." The man said weakly.
The boy, now identified as Eric, positioned himself behind the prisoner.
The blonde cut a quick glance toward his other partner. "Pamela, are we good?"
The redhead checked her device again. "The net's working just fine. He won't be able to reinforce his body no matter how hard he tries."
Arnold nodded once.
"Good."
The knives flashed, and the forest went silent. Silent enough to hear the now lifeless body of the nameless sorcerer drop to the ground with an unceremonious thud. The corpse slumped into the dirt among the fallen leaves.
A moment later, Eric took a step back as he watched the glowing net dim and deactivate.
For a while, none of them spoke. Only the wind moved through the mountains. But after a few uneasy seconds, Pamela finally exhaled and clipped her scanner back onto its strap.
"Well…" The woman said. "That went smoother than the last one."
"Less screaming, that's for sure." Eric muttered as he wiped his blade on the dead man's coat.
The blonde man cleaned his knife with a small cloth before sliding it back into its sheath.
"You're getting better at tracking these demons down." He then said to Pamela.
The woman just gave him a small shrug in response. "He's the only one of his kind in the area, so it wasn't all that hard to pin him down. Plus, he wasn't exactly subtle. Fire magic in the dry woods? Might as well send up a flare."
Eric slung the rifle over his shoulder. "So that's it?"
The blonde man glanced once more at the body before responding. "Yes."
Pamela looked toward the darkening ridges. "Cardinal Lynch will want confirmation tonight. And probably a full report."
"Then let's not keep him waiting." The blonde turned toward the narrow trail cutting through the trees. "The old man is going to want us back as soon as possible, especially since he's finally going to put that crazy plan of his into motion."
"I still can't believe that he finally got approval for it. I mean, this had been up in the air for years. And to think that we finally get the chance to do it is just crazy to think about."
"I still say it's a bad idea. But hey, if this is what the higher-ups want, then so be it. It doesn't really change anything at the end of the day. Our job still remains the same."
"Oh, come on, Arnold!" The woman scowled. "Aren't you at least a little bit excited? We're finally going to expose these godless creatures for what they really are. Just think about how easier our lives are going to be after this!"
Eric gave the corpse one last glance. For a moment, something unreadable crossed his hollow expression. An emotion that he himself wasn't too familiar with. Then he turned away, deciding that it was best to just let those feelings pass over him instead of dwelling on them for too long.
The three Inquisitors disappeared into the forest as quietly as they had arrived. Behind them, the wind carried the last faint smell of burned air through the Appalachian mountains. Another sorcerer gone, and the hunt was already moving on to its next victim.