"Have you encountered those consumed by Shadows?"
I shuddered involuntarily. The Counselor's query yanked me from the depths of my nightmare.
"Did they lose themselves entirely, or did remnants of their former selves linger?" he asked, probing the abyss of my knowledge.
"I met…" My response was partial, for the second part held no easy answer.
Mostly, when a Shadow devoured both soul and flesh, it left behind only the darkest facets—the very traits that had festered from birth until that fateful moment. The essence remained, yet goodness was stripped away. These Shadows, cunning manipulators, used that trick to achieve what they could not without a vessel. Often, they masqueraded as loathsome individuals, indistinguishable from the vilest of humanity.
This girl, Lorana, as the Counselor named her, however, still clung to a glimmer of hope—an uncertain chance. I knew nothing of her, but her escape from the inner city spoke volumes. She was no docile maiden; the Shadow had chosen wisely, for it never erred in its victims.
"Your answer brings no solace," the Counselor sighed, rising from his chair.
"I am no nanny or wife to comfort you." was my only reply. Unpleasant, yes, tactful, no.
"Why did you become a hunter?" His shift in voice and topic was transparent, yet I played along. "Venturing into the forest is perilous."
"A lucrative profession," I replied, a wry smile escaping my lips.
"You see through me, indeed. You're no ordinary one," he pressed. "Unafraid of Shadows, privy to secrets beyond others' ken. Even the guards noticed your lack of surprise upon arrival. You seem to know these walls intimately."
No use denying it. I nodded, acknowledging each point.
"Remarkable to finally encounter someone who comprehends my words," he mused. "You're Reborn. Am I right?" His revelation held no shock to him.
"Indeed," I confirmed.
"I perceived the truth when you gazed upon my daughter's bed. Only the Reborn, as I've heard, can see Shadows—the rest remain blind. And you are not one of them."
The Counselor paced, unburdening his thoughts. Our connection was palpable that moment; we both sensed danger and anxiety in tandem.
Cursed venison—it had brought me naught but trouble. Another half-day of his reasoning, and we'd either reminisce or spill each other's blood in memory of ancient enmity.
"Were you nobility?" His inquiry hung in the air, ominous.
The hidden Shadow should have devoured his daughter already, sparing me this ordeal. Perhaps his wrath would find me, but death at his hand was no novelty.
My true concern lay with my Sword. I willed it to calm, to sense my worry rather than his desire for vengeance.
"Hunter," he interrupted my thoughts. "How do I reclaim my daughter?"
"Kill her," I answered bluntly. "And end her suffering."