Mark of the Fool

Chapter 644: An Ominous Providence

Chapter 644: An Ominous Providence

The Stalker.

An ominous name for a seemingly innocent fae.

Or at least, he might have seemed innocent to the untrained eye; to the First Apostles well trained one, he looked anything but.

To most, the blue-skinned fellow looked quite harmless, even jolly, much like any simple dwarven-like fae with a stark white beard and blue skin. But to Gabrianhis body language told a different story; it bled a primal menace that could make even a predator tremble with terror.

The faes true nature was carefully masked: hed mastered his body language so well, that his guise of innocence appeared near perfect. Even many of Eldins agents, with their finely trained powers of observation, would have missed the imperfections, by Gabrians reckoning. He caught brief flashes of the faes true nature, peeking from the veil he hid behind: the perfect balance of weight on the balls of his feet, and a chilling gaze boring into the priests eyes.

With the stillness of an owl regarding a rodent, the Stalker stared down at the First Apostle from the back of his moose. The beast was well-groomed and tended, and there was a quiet intelligence burning in its bestial eyes.

But the Hero of Uldars heart did not quake.

His mind did not recoil.

His body did not flinch.

He had faced utter annihilation in the face of the Ravener and now, the destruction of his home; it would take more than a suspicious fae to worry him.

The question was: how did this mysterious fae come to be before him in this hidden grotto on a hidden island.

And why was he here?

Good! Good! The stocky fae shook with rolling laughter. Youre not frightened of me! Thats good: the ones who dont have much iron in their guts dont last too long on the hunt. At least, not the kind of hunt that I lead.

You speak in riddles, which is not uncommon for your kind, Gabrian said quietly. He did not move to attack, but he did hold himself tense and ready to strike; in all likelihood, the fae was here for no good purpose.

You are the one who guides the Heroes through the fae roads, are you not? the First Apostle asked. I would think that you would be by their side, not mine.

Aye, Im to guide the Heroes, but youre a Hero yourself! The Stalker once again shook with laughter as though hed just pulled a very clever prank. Id be derelict in my duties if I werent guiding you too, wouldnt I?

While the First Apostles face was a mask of a calm, inwardly he grimaced; the fae were known for twisting words and engaging in strange humours and whimsy. He was not in the mood for such things. Speak plainly, Stalker or Guide. As you have no doubt seen, we are in mourning, and here you are bringing shelter and food when we are suffering? I have never known your kind to be so generous.

Ho ho! Then you know less than I thought you did, my human friend! the Stalker grinned, tapping the side of his mounts neck. With a snort of golden steam, the hulking cervid backed into the wall of the grotto, vanishing through the stone much as Eldin had.

The First Apostles heart stung; there had been no sign of young Eldin among the survivors. When Gabrian had called down the lightning to rescue his people, the holy leader had not been carried to safety with them.

No matter where he, Izas and the other priests had searched on the island, there had been no sign of the man.

It could only mean that he was dead.

A terrible pity, that was; he had been one of Uldars greatest agents, as well as a man that Gabrian had personally liked.

The First Apostle would miss him dearly, and watching this fae disappear into the stone, was a sad reminder of the fallen priest.

An instant after the antlers had melted away, the First Apostle heard a jolly laugh from outside the cavern. Both fae and moose reappeared, standing on the grass outside the grottos mouth as though that is where they had always been.

Why dont we take this outside? You can see my supplies, and know that I speak in good faith. Come on! I dont have villains waiting outside to set upon you! Dont think of me as some common bandit, now!

Gabrian fixed his eyes on the fae, while muttering a prayer to Uldar. His raging divinity glowed through his soul, spreading over the land, searching for foes who were there unseen.

He found none.

Cautiously, the First Apostle walked toward the mouth of the grotto, collecting the clothing hed placed on a stone shelf just inside the entrance; they were still rain soaked when he dressed and stepped outside.

There, neatly laid out on the grass, were folded tents of multicoloured fabric, and chests overflowing with fresh fruit and dried meats. It looked to be quite the feast, enough to make a starving mans belly growl.

But, the First Apostle simply looked upon the offerings distantly.

What is your price? his deep voice said.

Ah, so you know, then. The fae grinned in delight.

The fae are governed by many laws, including those around reciprocity. Deals are to be honoured and gifts are to be returned, the First Apostle said. Which means these gifts will be expected to be reciprocated. So I ask you: what do you want?

Well thats the beauty of it, the Stalker said. What I want is what you want. You were muttering about hunting down the man known as Alex Roth, the Fool of Thameland?

I was.

Well, I want to hunt him too. And I want you and your warriors to join with me, as my huntsmen. As my hounds.

What? Garbian looked at him sharply. What quarrel do you have with the Fool of Thameland?

Now the Stalker let out an explosive laugh that echoed over the hills. Maybe youre more naive than I thought. How adorable you humans are, no matter how old you get! Ill answer you with some questions. Does the wolf have a quarrel with the sheep? Does the snake have a quarrel with the mouse? Does a human hunter have a quarrel with the fine buck he wants to bring home for his supper, and his trophy? There is no quarrel here.

You seek to hunt him for sport? the First Apostle asked.

Exactly! the Stalker snapped his fingers. I knew you were a clever one! A lot more clever than the Heroes of today, I have to say!

Why him? Gabrian raised an eyebrow.

Because the perfect quarry is so rare! The Stalkers eyes gleamed with greed. Listen here, boyo, because Ill make my story quick and easy for you: Ive been many things. For every name I havewhich I collect in the same way you folk collect coinsI have been something different. Ive been a Soldier, a Guide, a Crafter, a Dealmaker, a Witch, a Jolly Old Elf, a Giver, a Taker, a Maker, and a Destroyer. The name changed each time I took on something new that struck my fancy! But, listen here, the thing Ive been the longest? Is a hunter!

He licked his lips. And, oh my, if you could only see the hunts Ive led! Ive hunted mortals, beasts, monsters, fae, spirits, demons: if it has a name, Ive hunted something like it! I was never very picky when I was a youngn, like youbut, bah! Time makes fools of us all, doesnt it! After a time, bucks, does, children, warriors, beasts, dragonsnone of them were satisfying anymore! And you cant have a good hunt without good quarry to hunt, friend, trust me. It just doesnt work. You can have everything else lined up perfectly, be it weapons, a hunting party, good terrain

The fae sighed wistfully, then his gaze turned bitter. He spat on the ground. But, Ill tell you this, none of that piles up to a hill of toadstools if the quarrys no good!

And what makes for good quarry? the First Apostle asked, watching the old faes body language, searching for any guarded secrets that the Stalkers movements might betray.

Oh, a lot of things! It actually gets so complicated that I could be here lecturing you all day on what makes for good quarry. He rubbed his hands together. But the basics of it? Challenge. And Im not one of those suicidal hunters wholl pick a fight with the biggest, baddest beastie out there. No, no thats what I call stupid! Why would a fox go trying to hunt a leviathan, thats silly!

He winked. And thats why I never hunted your god when he walked the world, Im not hunting any of the fae lords, and I am not hunting that old, goat-monster that those wizards from the south brought with them. Thatd be a great way to get killed, and Im not interested in that. But at the same time, I dont want to be hunting squirrels and chipmunks! Quarry needs to have some kinda way to bite back, or what would be the point? If theres no danger theres no thrill, and if theres no thrill, theres no fun. So, theyve got to have enough power to hurt or kill you, but not enough to do it as simply as breathing.

The fae tapped the side of his skull. And the quarrys got to be smart. Theyve got to be able to run and squirm out of traps! Theyve got to be able to build traps of their own, and trick you if youre being dull or lazy. Theyve got to keep you sharp! Now, all of thats a bit of a tall order when youre as old and jaded as I am, but this Fool of Thameland of yours? Hes perfect. Hard-willed. Clever. He can teleport around to get away, which is always interesting in quarry. Its all grand! Hes perfect, and I want to hunt him, but for that, I need hounds!

Gabrian frowned deeply. By hounds I take it you mean hunting partners to flush out your quarry? Butsince you are faeyou use derogatory terms because your hunting hounds are, most likely, sapient mortals.

Aye! Aye! the Stalker cried. And now you might be wondering why I am telling you

You are telling me this because you want to be open, which will increase the chances of me trusting you. You are handing us these gifts so that I am obligated to aid you in hunting the Fool. You are hunting the Fool for your own amusement, and you need others to join you because only a fool hunts dangerous prey alone. Butsince you wish for this to be your own gloryyou want hounds, not hunting partners. Am I correct? Gabrian folded his hands behind his back.

Iyoure a sharp one. The Stalkers cheer faded. He regarded the First Apostle with rising caution. Then, if you know all that, are you gonna help me?

No, we shall help each other, Gabrian said simply.

You trust me? the Stalker asked.

No, but I trust Uldar. It is no accident thatin our time of needone who has the same desires as we do comes bearing gifts and wishes for help in doing something we already wish to accomplish. The First Apostle looked at the fae evenly. I cannot help but see divine providence in this chance: you can move through the fae roads, letting us hunt our quarry even if he teleports away from us. We would hunt him by choice, which you also desire; our service would be returned for a gift, leaving us even. There are few reasons to refuse this.

Ah, I see theres sense in you! the Stalker laughed. Youll make a fine hound for the hunt!

Call me whatever you wish: I am Uldars servant, and that will not change, no matter what word you use for me. What matters is the task. I will not bother threatening you: you seem well-informed enough to know my actions if you betray my people. Gabrian gestured to the supplies. We will talk, plan and organise together. And then, as you wish, we will hunt.

Hah! the Stalker laughed. Now, this will be a hunt to remember!