Stalking The Stalkers

The next few days passed in a tense but quiet stalemate. Turai and the cloaked figure—the Minor Sixth Horn of the Black Bicorn—seemed to be playing a careful game of cat and mouse, each trying to gain the upper hand.

Both parties knew better than to engage directly just yet. Turai's hunter, fully aware of Turai's uncanny ability to sense his presence, kept his distance.

Instead, he sent lesser members of the organization to track the boy, though they were strictly forbidden from getting too close or provoking him. The punishment for failing to heed this command was death.

For now, the game was one of patience. Turai, ever alert, had noticed the figures lurking in the shadows, watching him from afar. They never approached, and they never engaged, which left him both cautious and intrigued.

Turai knew someone dangerous was in town—someone who had left him that bloody message in the marketplace—but their strategy was perplexing. Still, Turai wasn't one to rush into things. He bided his time.

Meanwhile, the cloaked figure—Turai's hunter—sat in the dimly lit room of the rundown motel, his mind working through various strategies to capture Turai. He had no intention of killing the boy outright—not yet.

Torture was the objective. He wanted to break Turai, to force him to kneel, and only then would he consider the possibility of ending his life.

The room was filled with an air of sinister contemplation when a knock came at the door. It was soft but purposeful, followed by the quiet sound of the door opening. The cloaked female figure—his personal messenger—stepped inside after receiving no response, the silence serving as permission.

The Sixth Minor Horn didn't look up immediately. He knew who it was, and he allowed her to speak first. She bowed slightly as she approached, her steps light and careful. "Maya bring news, my Lord, Ijar," she said softly, revealing her name as well as his without delay.

"Speak," Ijar commanded, his voice low and cold, revealing nothing of the dark plans swirling in his mind.

Maya stepped closer, careful to keep her tone respectful. "Turai has been quite active around town. He barely stays at the orphanage anymore. Most of the time, he's seen heading to the Wanderers Order branch."

That caught Ijar's attention. He looked up at her, though his face remained hidden in the deep shadows of his hood. "The Wanderers Order?"

"Yes," Maya confirmed. "He spends roughly half an hour inside each time, then leaves. Afterward, he disappears—vanishes somewhere in the town. We were unable to follow him further, as you instructed us not to approach him directly."

Ijar's fingers drummed lightly on the table before him. The news was good. If Turai was spending time at the Wanderers Order, there might be a connection worth exploiting. Still, the boy's disappearances were concerning. "You've done well," Ijar said with a nod of satisfaction. "Continue watching him, but remember—don't get too close. Let me know if anything changes."

Maya bowed her head in acknowledgment and silently left the room. Ijar remained seated, his thoughts turning darker. The time to act was drawing near, and he relished the thought of finally getting his hands on the boy. For now, though, it was still a game of patience, and he intended to win.

~~~~

Turai had nearly forgotten about the mysterious guest in town. His days had been filled with wandering the streets, taking on small tasks through the Wanderers Order, and generally going about his routine. Yet, he hadn't been careless.

The constant presence of the figures following him was a reminder that someone was still watching. But since they hadn't made any attempt to engage, Turai didn't feel pressed to deal with them just yet.

However, Turai wasn't one to sit idly by. If someone was bold enough to track him, then it was only right that he returned the favor. He had a plan. 

Over the next few days, Turai stuck to his usual routine, going in and out of the Wanderers Order, completing minor tasks, and vanishing into the quieter parts of town.

Turai wanted to give his watchers the sense that nothing had changed—that he was unaware of them. But today, the situation was different. Today, Turai was the one doing the stalking.

He knew they would be watching him, and sure enough, Maya, ever the diligent spy, was following him at a distance, just as she had before. Turai continued as if nothing was amiss, heading to the Wanderers Order and picking up a low-level task—something mundane that wouldn't draw attention. Once assigned, he left to complete the task.

Maya, keeping her distance, watched him carefully. Her orders had been clear—observe, but don't engage. So she did exactly that, shadowing him from a safe distance. To her surprise, today was different from previous days. Turai didn't vanish this time.

Instead, she watched as he actually completed the task, his movements efficient and methodical. Afterward, he returned to the Wanderers Order to collect his commission, just as anyone else would.

Maya's interest piqued. For days, the boy had been disappearing after his tasks. Why the change now? Satisfied that she had gathered new, useful information, she quietly made her way back to Ijar, eager to report her findings.

What Maya didn't realize, however, was that Turai had been watching her the entire time. From the moment she started following him, he had known. Her movements were skilled, but not enough to escape his keen senses. And now, as she made her way back to report, Turai shadowed her, staying hidden, his steps silent and precise. He trailed her through the winding streets, his gaze sharp and focused.

For days, Turai had allowed himself to be watched. Now, it was his turn to stalk the stalker.

Maya arrived at the motel, slipping through the narrow alleyways and entering the building. She didn't sense anything amiss—Turai had been careful. As she stepped inside, her mind already rehearsing her report to Ijar, she remained oblivious to the fact that Turai had followed her every step. Now, the boy knew where his enemies had been hiding.

Back in the room, Ijar sat once again in quiet contemplation, awaiting her return. He was nearing the final phase of his plan, unaware that Turai was closer than he could have imagined.