Leith held his side as he limped behind Alcide. Thankfully, his wound had yet to reopen, and he was now hopeful that it probably wouldn’t. He had paused a little while ago to redress the wound and found that the stitches were still holding strong and the wound hadn’t leaked at all– sure signs healing was going well despite Leith’s constant abuse of his own body.

Unfortunately, healing didn’t immediately equate to diminished pain, so Leith, acutely aware of his own foolishness, cursed himself belatedly while continuing to trudge on.

Still, the pain meant nothing in the face of Leith’s concern. He worried for his father even though Alcide seemed relatively sure that the hunting team was safe. Hunting expeditions were often quite variable, making it entirely possible that they had just been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances. Thus, Leith and Alcide hoped to intercept them by tracing the path the expedition was supposed to have taken. That way, if they had run into an issue, they would be able to save them.

Descending into the Rift was arduous work and scaling the steep walls as they made their way down would have been exceptionally dangerous for Leith with his injury if not for Alcide.

A couple hours ago, just as they began to scale down the mountain, Alcide had noticed that Leith was struggling to lower himself while protecting his ribs from the jutting crystal growths they used as handholds.

“Leith, how confident are you with manipulating chroma using your mind? I noticed you were using a riftcores last night, but I couldn’t tell how adept you were with your manipulation.”

“Umm, I think I’m pretty good? My father stressed that I should practice controlling chroma with my mind since I was very young, so I think I have pretty good control by now,” Leith responded.

Leith’s father considered triggers unreliable and so would never use them when performing surgery. Triggers could malfunction, and for certain procedures, that could prove dangerous. His father could perfectly manipulate his drills to spin as fast as he needed, or could get his blades to heat or emit the perfect amount of electricity for cauterization. This level of control was nearly impossible with triggers, since triggers just commanded riftcores to release energy at the press of a button, passing it through complicated circuitry to achieve some effect.

Sure, a mechanism could probably manipulate the heat to a perfect degree, but those mechanisms were assuredly extremely expensive. As a doctor, Leith’s father wished for him to be able to do all of this with nothing but the bare minimum of equipment. Leith, for that reason, had been practicing manipulating chroma with his mind for as long as he could remember, and had by now become quite proficient at the skill.

Alcide unhooked some sort of contraption from his calves and took off his shoes, fitting them on Leith instead. The shoes were a little big, but fit well enough.

Alcide instructed him to slowly release chroma from the core stored near his calves and guide it down into the jet boots, explaining that it would create pneumatic pressure strong enough to propel him upwards, forwards, or cushion his fall. Alcide claimed that Leith could probably push as hard as he wanted and it would likely only slow his fall. Apparently, while it might seem dangerous, jet boots weren’t as volatile as they seemed and most hunters Leith’s age would be able to use it readily as a cushioning device if they just pushed with all their might.

So Leith did just that. He stood at the edge of the platform they were standing on, eyeing another platform that was just a little lower. It was close enough that Leith could land safely even if the boots wouldn’t cushion his fall.

It turned out that Alcide was completely wrong. The moment Leith had hopped off the platform and tried using the jet boots, he pushed as hard as he could as Alcide had recommended. Immediately, he launched up into the air, flying high into the sky with wild abandon.

As Alcide would go on to tease him later, Leith shrieked a little. He eased up on the force, instinctively lowering it to what he felt was enough so that he wouldn’t just drop like a rock. And then… he was hovering!

For a while, he just stood there in the middle of the air, both in fear and awe as he stood amongst the colorful crystals and looked down at the dizzying drop below him. He wasn’t quite sure how to get down. Maybe if he just dropped the power a tiny bit he’d slowly hover down?

Soon enough, he lost balance and began careening sideways, ramming into a wall, barely avoiding skewering himself on a pointy crystal. He then unceremoniously fell downwards, headfirst straight towards the ground. Leith twisted his body midair, using the unwieldy mechanism strapped to his feet to somersault and fall feet first instead. He then panickedly imagined pushing as much energy as possible from the battery in his calves to his feet. The chroma obeyed, and Leith crumpled as he hit the ground feet first, a last minute surge of pneumatic pressure saving him from turning into a puddle of blood.

Alcide, who had climbed down the traditional way, proceeded to berate him for the better part of two hours after that, as they continued traversing the Rift.

Leith’s legs were still aching from his… leap of faith, but the rest of the walk was far easier. The Rift’s crystal-and-rock walls eventually gave way to a fairly gentle slope of green grass and shrubbery, all decorated with vivid flowers. Sunlight shining through the crystals above turned the grassy expanse into a multicolored lightshow and looking up hurt Leith’s eyes as the sun was refracted by some of the crystals.

In fact, the sunlight was concentrated by certain crystals so much that there were many parallel streaks of scorched ground that they had to take care to step around. The flora and fauna of the place seemed to know this too, as the little critters darting about avoided the burnt places, and somehow even the grass seemed to grow pointing directly away from the concentrated spots of light.

It was all very fascinating. Leith could name pretty much every single plant near Karya and he could use a lot of them as medicinal ingredients. Here in the Rift was a myriad of plants that he had never seen before. There were so many strange animals, such as squirrels with horns, birds cooped up overhead that happened to have an extra set of wings, fireflies that actually trailed fire, and so much more. There was even a seemingly innocuous bush that tried to grab Leith’s legs when he wandered too close.

He wished he could stay here, explore, and investigate the wildlife– it was all so alien and interesting to him. Unfortunately, exploring the Rift, outside of hunting, was taboo. It was deemed largely unnecessary to bother exploring the Rift. Home to the barbaric Riftwalkers, it would be impossible to venture inside without getting killed unless you had a permit for hunting, as premeditated by the Crown of Maksar and whatever governed the lawless place that was the Rift.

Leith was worried about the riftfiends more than anything else, but so far they hadn’t spotted any violent creatures, just the expected assortment of riftbeasts milling about. He was also somewhat worried about corruption, even though he knew that was highly unlikely.

Rift corruption was rare, and could only occur if an already corrupted beast managed to sink its fangs in Leith. Corrupted beasts rarely lived for longer than a week, and in the worst case scenario, Alcide, who had already proven himself extremely competent, was there to save him.

The “Corruption” was the term commonly used to describe a mycotic disease with a near 100 percent fatality rate that was known to fester in the Rift. Leith had never seen it himself, but his father and mother both had seen their fair share during the war when corrupted beasts would run amok in villages. Apparently, all you could do when corrupted was to hope that you had time to kill yourself before the madness took hold.

Even corruption, despite its dangers, was so extremely fascinating to Leith. Leith’s father had told him that the universities in Ilmar– the city of Maksar dedicated to educating the nation’s finest scholars and hunters– had entire departments dedicated to just studying the Rift, its inhabitants, and the corruption’s ability to sometimes create new species.

A dark figure suddenly appeared from the horizon, rushing directly towards Leith and Alcide. Lily the aonbharr, who according to Alcide was frighteningly intelligent, slowed to a stop in front of them, burying his head into Alcide’s chest.

“What’s wrong girl?” Alcide asked, running his hand over the beast’s flowing mane.

Lily whinnied and huffed agitatedly, biting the front of Alcide’s shirt and tugging in the direction she had just come from.

“Alright Lily, calm down.” Alcide procured a sugar cube and offered it to Lily. He then turned to Leith and said. “Leith, Lily must have found something… startling up ahead. Let’s go and check it out.” He jumped up onto the aonbharr and offered a hand to Leith.

Alcide had sent Lily ahead as the creature’s sharp senses and speed made her great at tracking, and when unbridled by a rider she could run fast enough that Leith could barely track her with his eyes. Lily had evidently found something they should investigate.

They rode, and kept riding, the wind buffeting at their clothes and faces while Leith tried his best to quell his anxiety. What could have spooked such a capable riftbeast so much?

Still he decided he shouldn’t worry too much. Perhaps the aonbharr had come across the expedition and perhaps they were injured and would need medical attention. Leith steeled himself, reassuring himself that his father would be safe. The man couldn’t possibly be taken down by a few fiends. This level of the Rift wasn’t particularly dangerous anyway.

They continued to ride for half an hour until Lily finally began to slow. Leith couldn’t see very well past Alcide’s broad back, but he heard him suck in a sharp breath, the way Leith’s patients might when poked with a needle. The aonbharr began to whinny nervously as well, and Leith’s anxiety continued to grow. Before the beast could fully slow to a stop, Leith jumped off, ignoring the pain that shot through his body as his feet impacted the ground. He needed to know what was in front of them.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart started hammering. Instinctively, he ran forward as fast as he could, pulling his satchel off of his hip, pulling out cloth to stem bleeding.

As Leith found himself amongst the bodies, he realized that attempting any sort of care was impossible. Everyone was already dead.

He ran through the clearing, eyes frantically scanning the dead bodies. He ignored the haphazard streaks of red everywhere and bodies that lay bloodied with missing arms and legs. Leith looked at their faces, ignoring how he recognized every person. Ignoring how some of them had holes in their chests, how intestines spilled from their stomachs, how some bodies were missing their heads.

Before long, Leith found his father, laid in a drying puddle of his own blood.

Alcide’s coworkers often scolded him for his lack of empathy. He argued that the problem wasn’t that he lacked empathy– he felt horrible constantly bearing witness to people’s misfortunes– he just never, ever, knew what to say.

When Leith found his father’s dead body and kneeled next to it, silently shaking, Alcide stayed quiet. When he noticed that Leith just… stayed still and refused to move, Alcide started walking around and analyzing the scene. He was here for an investigation after all.

Bodies were scattered all around. Many had wounds in their backs, either long lacerations or deep punctures. Some were decapitated or bisected. Alcide had long since grown used to death, but this one sided massacre even made him uncomfortable. There were obvious signs of resistance as some of the bodies had spears laying next to them and some disembodied hands still held on to their swords.

It was clearly intentional. Every scene Alcide and his coworkers had stumbled upon before seemed like a convenient accident at worst. This was the first time he had come across a deliberate massacre.

Even worse, the culprits were impersonating the Royal Hunters. Alcide had spoken to the mayor last night, asking for details on this expedition. According to the mayor, a team from the Royal Hunters had come to Karya, claiming that they were simply here to check on the Rift. They wanted to make sure that the fiend populations were low the way they were meant to be. Naturally, they had offered a substantial sum to any hunter who would accompany them, since they needed as many hands as they could get… all fairly standard stuff.

But what the hell was their motive? What could you possibly gain out of impersonating the Royal Hunters? Were they trying to sow suspicion amongst average citizens?

Maybe they’re trying to rekindle the war with the Riftwalkers? Alcide thought to himself. That would make the most sense, he realized as he noticed that some of the dead were dressed in colors of the Royal Hunters… though on further analysis he noticed how none of the uniforms were real.

The citizens of Maksar still abhorred the Riftwalkers for their brutal attacks upon their cities. Alcide, having fought the war on the frontlines and experienced the Rift firsthand, knew very well that the Riftwalkers were victims just as much as the Maksaris were.

That didn’t really matter, though. Maksar hates the Rift and the Rift hates Maksar. That’s just how it was and how it would be.

What Alcide needed to worry about was who would benefit from causing these attacks. Who could possibly benefit from war?

At the very least, he knew it wasn’t the Crown. King Caderyn would not desire a war, though Alcide supposed the same might not be true of his sons or his spouse.

Maybe it was the Council? Alcide and his organization had already been suspecting the Council of other misdeeds… and they certainly had a few reasons for wanting war.

Maybe they wanted to cull the Riftwalkers who they worried could become hostile or maybe they wanted to delve into the depths of the Rift for riches. Or perhaps they wanted the right to go hunt tragedy-class riftbeasts or maybe even the riftborn that the Riftwalkers pointedly left alone. The riftcores from one of those beasts could likely purchase a few cities or power the lights in a small town like Karya for centuries.

They could even be used as a deterrent at their borders– certain unholy weapons fitted with cores derived from the riftborn were known to literally level mountains under the right conditions.

If they were planning on producing more of those… Alcide shivered a little, his hand falling to the handle of his second sword out of habit. The desolation that those weapons had wreaked was still fresh in his mind.

Ultimately, the reason didn’t matter. Alcide did not wish for war and would go to any length to stop it. He was willing to work with anyone and do anything as long as it wasn’t too immoral to find out his enemy’s intentions and put a stop to their schemes. He didn’t want a repeat of the last war… the amount of carnage that had resulted from those battles made the massacre in front of him look like child’s play.

That’s why Alcide couldn’t help but guiltily glance at the boy kneeling amongst the dead bodies, wondering how he could go about recruiting him.

He didn’t want to throw the boy into trouble, but Leith had a way of constantly catching his eye. The boy had singlehandedly saved his town from rampaging fiends and had decided to walk five miles the day after with a hole in his side, just to sate his curiosity. What piqued Alcide’s interest the most, however, was Leith’s talent. When Alcide had offered Leith his jet boots, he had done so expecting Leith to slow his descent and hover to the ground. When Alcide had first started learning how to use the jet boots, all he could do was cushion his falls if he pushed as hard as he could. It took an exceptional amount of control over chroma– the type that came with decades of experience– to take to the air and fly down as Leith had done, without using any sort of trigger at all. That was a feat which no one could ever expect from a boy Leith’s age, let alone a boy from a rural village in the outermost part of the region Khasba.

Talent aside, Leith had just the right amount of grit and insanity to fit in perfectly with Alcide’s organization. Not only that, he now had a personal reason to join them as well.

While he couldn’t fully dismiss his sense of guilt as he would likely be taking advantage of a grieving child, Alcide resolved to recruit him onto the team. They still needed a spy in the Academy and no one would question the boy recommended to the Great Academy by the Sword Saint himself.

Besides this would certainly be beneficial to Leith as well. Maybe Leith would graduate as a decorated hunter and be able to provide for his family.

Or perhaps Leith could find solace in eventually avenging his father.