Back to Camp

Shortly after, they found themselves at a small, quickly erected camp. A gazebo provided shelter, pushed against the side of a cliff in a small corner. Tucked underneath it was a small, recently assembled table that was covered by a map of the local area. At first glance, the gazebo was empty, leading Evan to believe that Jeremy and Elias were the only two people there.

As he got closer, he noticed someone else leaning over the table, using her hand to trace something on the map. As they approached, she glanced back briefly before turning her attention back to the map.

"There aren't any more signs of Demonic activity here," she said, speaking with a thick, Eastern European accent. "He got away again."

"It was just a Knight, Hanna," Jeremy said. "We weren't even close." As he spoke, Elias moved into the gazebo and began to disassemble the camp.

She clenched her hands together tightly, until a trickle of blood formed on her palms and her knuckles turned white. "Damn," she muttered.

"It'll happen soon enough," Jeremy said, "We just have to keep trying. Eventually, we'll get lucky."

"We can't just get…" she snapped, turning around and trailing off as her eyes fell on Evan. "You brought the Crimson back with no restraints?"

Although her outfit largely obscured her frame, Evan could see she was small. Her limbs were thin, and she stood at least half a foot shorter than he did, and he wasn't the tallest of people. Her face was sullen and pale, and her hair was a dirty shade of grey, like someone had dragged a silver tapestry through mud and let it fester for centuries. Her eyes were covered in a pair of glasses that she pushed forward and peered over as she looked at Evan.

"He's harmless," Jeremy said. "Well… he's human, at the very least."

She gestured for Jeremy to come over to her, before slowly taking off her glasses as she looked at the ground. "Don't stand too close," she snapped at him, without moving her head an inch. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Slowly, she lifted her head back up to look at Evan, squinting her eyes as she did so. They made eye contact for a few moments, before she opened them fully. An odd sensation ran down his back as they held it, one that was akin to an amalgamation of every feeling of fear and dread that he had felt that day already.

Without warning, she burst into laughter. "You're right," she said, forcing her words out through the laughter. "There's nothing there of him."

Evan glanced to Jeremy and Elias, seeking an answer to the absurd reaction before him. While he doubted that he was getting mocked on an intentional level or something malicious like that, he couldn't help but feel like that was what was happening.

"She's hyper sensitive to things like Angels and Demons, things not of this world," Elias explained, continuing to strip the camp down. " Just the sight of them can cause her agony, and being too close to them or actually making contact with them is even worse. The glasses help to keep it in check, as do the clothes she wears. But in the short time I've known her, I don't think I've ever seen her take her glasses off."

"How did that happen?" Evan asked, hoping to get some insight in to what had happened to him.

"It's something that happened to her a long time ago, something before I ever knew her. It's not my place to say, so I'll let her tell you that, if and when she decides to. But there'll be plenty of time for it, I'm sure."

"You're sure?"

"I'm going to be the one to bring you in, and I'm going to be the one who will be held responsible should anything unfortunate happen to us because of you. They'd be insane to palm you off on anyone other than me."

"Who's they?" Evan asked. He could remember some disembodied they being referenced before, but he hadn't chose to ask anything about it back then.

"The Templars."

"Like the crusades?"

"You could say that. The name was a homage to it, though, not an actual continuation of the order. They ended in the fourteenth century, while our organisation was formed sometime in the eighteenth. The records of that era are lost to us, known only to time, but the working idea that we have is that it was something to do with the growth of industry, and the sphere of power of many nations spreading across the globe. Because of that, instances of Demons coming to our world became more and more common, and so we were formed to combat it."

As he spoke, Elias pulled something small out of a slot within his gauntlet, before throwing it on to the ground some distance away from the almost dismantled camp.

"So, he is being recruited?" Hanna asked. "Not just locked up like other Crimson?"

"That's what we're planning on doing," Elias nodded.

"Listen," she said, stepping forward towards Evan. "I want a demon dead. A single demon, that will die by no other's hands but mine. If we see that demon, no, when we find it, I want you to promise me that you will do nothing to harm it. Slaughter all of its kin if you wish, but that one is mine. Promise me now."

"Okay," Evan said, somewhat confused about how determined she was, but choosing not to say anything. It likely had something to do with her affliction, so wanting an unfiltered revenge made sense to him. "I promise I won't interfere with your grudge."

"Welcome to the Fourteenth Wing of the Templars, then," she said, adding a smile with the statement.