Chapter 9 — The Dark Huntress
Four years had passed.
Since the night Donati's lifeless body lay under the pale moonlight, and a faceless shadow whispered:
"It has begun…"
Now Arya was fourteen.
Her hair long and unkempt, storm-gray eyes burning like faint embers in the mist, and her heart… marked by a wound that never healed.
For four years she had wandered, city to city, through foggy mountains and dark forests.
She learned swordsmanship from a blind old man, the secrets of the sea from a mad woman, and from a nameless man — how to use darkness without losing herself to it.
Fragments of Darkness
A power born from the shadows themselves, Arya had learned to keep a shard of it within her grasp without sinking into corruption.
When her hands clenched, they sometimes turned a muted gray, and a warmth of darkness flickered in her veins.
Versalis
A city where the nights were more alive than the days.
Tall towers rose alongside old, brick buildings.
Colorful markets floated with lanterns suspended in the air, voices of hawkers, and vendors selling things no book had ever named.
A misty half-light, horse hooves clattering on cobblestones.
The Old Wolf Inn
A three-story building of dark stones and worn timber.
Flickering oil lamps cast shadows on the walls.
The air thick with the scent of smoked meat, burning wood, and ale.
A tall wooden ceiling with rusted chandeliers.
Tiny guest rooms, round windows, and heavy drapes.
On the ground floor, travelers gathered by the hearth, whispering tales of shadows that stole people at night.
Arya sat alone at a corner table, a wooden badge lying in front of her — her first Adventurer's Guild mark.
A dagger piercing a shadow engraved on its surface.
Since Donati's death, she had vowed to hunt the shadows.
The Shadow Hunters' Guild
A circular stone building in the heart of Versalis.
Tall gray marble pillars.
A giant iron door that breathed the scent of old blood and earth.
Inside, statues of fallen heroes, and a great board displaying the hunters' names and their medals:
Wooden Medal: Novice
Bronze Medal: Shadow Slayer
Iron Medal: Darkness Keeper
Gold Medal: Shadow Hunter
Black Gold Medal: Master of Darkness
Seven-Color Medal: Hero of Seven Realms
Godly Medal: Living Legend
Arya had only a Wooden Medal…
But her fingers ached to someday touch the space where the Godly Medal hung.
First Mission
A shadow creature had been reported near the city's outskirts.
A beast that hunted travelers by night, leaving behind only skin and bones.
Night
Mist, silence, and the sound of brittle branches breaking.
Arya gripped her short sword.
Her fingertips shaded gray — a fragment of darkness.
It made her see clearer, move faster.
Suddenly, a figure leapt from the trees.
A shadowy, half-formed creature with burning red eyes.
Semi-physical body, long claws.
It shrieked and charged.
Arya rolled aside.
Raised her sword in the dark.
First strike…
Black blood splattered the ground.
The beast roared and leapt back.
Arya shouted:
"For Donati!"
The beast lunged again.
Arya crushed the fragment of darkness in her palm, briefly feeling part of its being in her hand.
Her eyes flickered black.
A direct strike — straight through the creature's heart.
Shadow Crystal
As the beast died, it turned to black dust, leaving behind a clear, glowing shard.
A shimmering gray crystal.
Arya picked it up.
It radiated strange warmth.
The wooden badge in her pocket trembled.
She knew — this was only the beginning.
Tomorrow she would present it at the guild… and perhaps… earn the Bronze.
But she knew deep inside…
This path wasn't for revenge anymore.
It was the path of the hunters of darkness.
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To be continue