- Shadowstriders

Marcus jolted awake.

His head slammed into the head of another.

"Ow!" he yelped, raising a hand to his head.

He stared deep into the hazel eyes of another.

"Uhm, hello?"

His eyes moved across the person's face, but his efforts were futile.

They wore a hood over their head, and a black mask covering their mouth and nose.

In response to his words, the person cocked their head to the left.

Marcus looked down.

"A- Are you sitting on me?"

His question was answered with an emotionless gaze, the exposed eyes giving Marcus no information.

The person suddenly moved backwards with a flip, balancing on their arms. Once back on their feet, they squatted down in front of Marcus.

'A black cloak?'

"Are you the ones who attacked the orphanage? Why did you do it?"

Once again, his answer was silent.

'Typical.'

Abandoning his efforts to verbally extract information, he resigned to glean information from the person's appearance.

As he had already assumed, their appearance lent credence to the theory that they were responsible for the assault on the orphanage.

On the right arm of the person lay a badge. On the badge, a bird could be seen taking flight. Marcus wondered if it held any significance.

Black gloves covered the person's hand, suggesting they did things they didn't want traced back to them.

Before Marcus could discover more, he noticed the eyes of the person shift above him.

He turned his head around to see where the eyes were directed.

He let out a slight breath in shock when he saw who stood over him.

"Commander... Commander Garnell?"

"Was he the only one?"

"Yes sir." The person in front of him finally spoke. The voice was the same as the one that spoke to him by the gate to the orphanage.

"Marcus Grant, was it?"

"Yes. Yes sir."

"Who would have thought. You were secretly a dual elementalist."

'What's going on? What's going to happen to me?'

"I take it you've been fine since arriving?"

"I- I guess. Where is this place, anyway?"

"A hideout."

"Hideout?"

"You are now in the care of my shadowstriders. Officially, you and everyone else at the orphanage died. Luckily for you, my shadowstriders are rather unofficial." The commander moved to stand near the person on the other side of the room.

Marcus rose to his feet. "But what are the shadowstriders?"

"Covert operatives. Dirty agents. People who do whatever to give themselves the best odds of success. I think you would be a good fit here."

"How so?"

"You tried to hide the fact you were a dual elementalist from me during the exam, presumably because you had no idea of the fate of others with such a gift. When surrounded by the death and destruction of last night, you ran. You chose to save your own skin rather than try to help any that survived."

"There was nothing I could do. I was seen by them, I had to run."

"No, you didn't. You could have fought."

"How? I'm a D rank at best, there is no way I could stand up to them."

"First thing," the commander said as he approached Marcus. "There is no reason someone of a lower rank can't win. Ranking measures magical power, nothing more. But, you are correct. You would have died, so you chose to flee. I'm not criticising you, it was the right choice."

He put his hand on Marcus's shoulder. "But there is always a choice."

"So you're saying I don't have to stay. What will happen if I leave?"

"You'll have to die."

Garnell laughed at the boy's face. "I'm kidding, chill out. It's not up to me. I leave the striders on a very, very loose leash. All they have to do is report things to me."

His face became serious once more. "What I do know is you will not have this opportunity again. If you leave, there is no turning back. And the likelihood is that you are now a marked man. Stay, and I can give you the information and tools to avenge your home. Leave, and who knows what you might achieve."

"Certainty versus endless possibilities. Which will it be?"

Marcus paused for a second. "Considering I hate uncertainty, I'll stay. Plus I want to know what that was about last night."

"Good." The commander plastered a smile onto his face. "Theresa, please inform the young man about your current mission."

"Call me Tess," the person replied.

She removed her hood and her mask.

"Is something wrong with her lip, or has she just got a cocky smirk?" Marcus blurted out. He quickly slammed his hand onto his mouth, surprised his thoughts slipped out of his mouth.

She let out a small laugh. "I guess you only meant to think that. Neither. See this scar?" she asked, gesturing to her cheek. "Ever since I got it, my lip sometimes gets a little pull on it. I hope it's not too distracting."

"No, not at all. Sorry, I didn't mean to. And I'm sorry about the head."

"Honestly, it's fine. I'd rather people ask about it than ogle me."

"Is it really ogling?" Garnell asked.

"It feels like it. Anyway, us striders get given the awkward jobs the state can't or won't do. our current mission is revolving around a cult. Namely, the cult of Yar-Anar. They're the ones who attacked the orphanage."

"What's Yar-Anar?" Marcus asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"It's an old God. Evil, powerful and terrifying in equal measure."

"Why can't the state get involved?"

"They're protected. By a little bit of bullshit known as 'religious protection.' Not that it should apply to cults of an ancient evil. And sadly, no one seems to give a shit about abandoned children enough in this nation to sanction them for their actions."

"Why are they doing it?"

"We're not quite sure." Tess turned towards a door that Marcus hadn't seen as she spoke. "Come with me."

Marcus followed her through the door, and down the stairs just to the left.

The wall to the right of the door was lit intermittently with torches dotted between other doors. Below them seemed to be a tavern, however there was no bartender and only a handful of patrons.

In better lighting, Marcus saw it was more accurate to describe the hood Tess wore as a short poncho, falling just below her chest. Underneath she wore a silver tunic.

Now released from her hood, her hair, black as night and unnaturally curled, fell to rest on her collarbone.

"We have a couple of theories on that. First, they could be stealing kids to sacrifice them."

"Sacrifice? To summon the God?"

Tess nodded. "Alternatively, they could be planning on using the kids as a vessel."

"Is that possible?" Marcus exclaimed.

"I... don't know. Truthfully, we don't know a whole lot about the situation. But that's not our worst theory. They could be stealing kids to fight for them."

"Could that work?"

"Possibly, take a seat."

Marcus sat at the table nearest to the stairs. Two tables away, a hooded figure shot him a look.

'If looks could kill, I'd be dead, huh.'

Tess came and sat down with him. In her hand she held a bottle of something and two glasses.

"Whiskey?" she offered as she poured one of her own.

"No thanks, not a big drinker."

"So, now you know our mission. Welcome to the Shadowstriders, kid. Welcome to what it's like being dead."