Spring

In the depths of the Swedish Forest, a group of people with special powers are hidden by governments all over the world. The armies call them into any kind of situation they find they can't handle. Sabian and his friends find this highly irritable, but the pay is always good.
But when they begin to uncover the plot of a huge evil rising from the depths of the world, Sabian and his companions have to find a way to use a seemingly normal girl to even start to fight this as faced with the largest threat the world has ever found...

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3. The Day Job

 

 I sat in the claustrophobic waiting room, wondering what the High Master wanted his favourite dog’s body for this time. Earthquake readings? Unusual solar flares? A fresh cup of tea, maybe?

 “If both of us are here, I doubt it’s for a tea party.”

 Cenaill sat down next to me. To this day, Cenaill is the most bossy, moody girl I have ever had the pleasure to know. Interestingly though, she is also the most intelligent and nice person to talk to. Her hair was black, with streaks of blood red cropping up here and there. Her fringe always crept across the right of her face, covering the top of her eye. I always laugh at her strange attempts to keep her hair out of the way of her eye. She had pale blue eyes that had a similarity to the lake around the cove. She was only just as tall as me, but I always liked to boast the fact that for the rest of our lives, I was always taller than her. Especially as when I did, Cenaill gave a death stare that I have a genuine belief it could kill someone. Cenaill had looked out for me, as over the last year, I had had a hard life, even if I didn’t like to admit it. She had a gift of reading people's faces like no-one else.

 “The High Master will...” The secretary with a strong Swedish accent stopped talking and looked over her glasses that had been perched precariously on the tip of her overhanging nose. “...Oh, we seem to be missing someone.”

 “Sorry Miss Engblom, I only got the message while I was in surgery.”

 Hayden’s texan voice split through the large marble hall.

 “Hurry along Mister Jarone, the master will not be kept waiting.” With Miss Engblom’s temper, she would be more suited as the local librarian.

 I looked at Hayden as if to mock him about how much he was in trouble, and we were led into the main reading hall. I looked around. The room was a shock to the system after being led from a room hardly wide enough to fit the three of us into a huge, magnificent hall that felt massively intimidating. Celtic signs from the first founders of the coves were sprawled across the long stained-glass windows covering the ceiling, which slanted downwards vertically. As the it finished, the wall was layered upon by a string of thick bookcases that I could only guess to fifty times the height of me.

 The High Master sat at the end of the long hall, his face almost embedded in a book with a tuft of his straight, grey hair poking out from over the thick spine. The High Master was reading a play script, Measure For Measure By William Shakespeare, a play that, to this day, was the best play he had seen at the RSC, even though it was only because it was the only time he was brave enough to venture outside the Cove. The High Master, much to mine and Chaz’s disappointment, he seemed to like to conceal himself in the lie that humans and us live in completely different worlds and should never collide unless in dire circumstances.

 “The Advisers you asked for, sir.” Miss Engblom rushed us into the three comfortable leather armchairs which were already laid out with speaking to The High Master in mind. It was as if they were frozen in orbit around the sixty-five year old man.

 The High Master laid his book on the mahogany desk in front of him. The High Master wasn’t as old as his namesake stereotypically suggests. His greying hair was swept to his left to keep his fringe from overhanging his eyes. His slightly wrinkled face was stern looking and had an intimidating look to it. His colourless, narrowed eyes were looking at us through gold rimmed glasses. His frowning expression almost made him look like he would soon try to kill them. He was dressed in a crimson red robe and brown leather shoes that creaked when you release the smallest amount of pressure on it.

 So basically, a stereotypical headteacher.

 “I called you all here to address a troubling surface coming from the mainland.”

 There was an shudder-inducing silence before Hayden’s voice broke into my head saying ‘They never open with a joke’. Hayden looked at me and Cenaill as she tried to hold in a giggle. The High Master looked over us with great disapproval. I looked at my feet, hiding the expression of satisfaction on my face. The old man continued his ramble.

 “More and more sightings of Hunters are being reported around the world. There seems to be a lack of the predictable timidness we relied on to keep them a secret. So much of a lack, in fact, that I had to take care of these myself.” He stated as he laid out various out of focus, blurring, or obvious fake photographs. Many of them showed a grey blur, or a silhouette of a sort of large wild hunting dog. Cenaill picked up the most clear photo which had an animal running away from the shutter’s view.

 “Did you get these from the Silverblade’s databases?” She asked.

 “No,” he replied solemnly, “I found these on the internet. I also managed to grab a video off YouTube, but not before one of them got 500 hits.”

 Cenaill was taken back by this. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Has there been any actual contact with them?”

 “Not yet, but there have been animal carcasses

up in Scotland. Mostly deers, antelope, that sort of thing. They’d been torn apart. It is definitely the right sort of meat, but they aren’t big enough to keep them full. And Hunters are notorious for taking a prey that challenge them, and guns and armies are just about as big of a challenge they’re going to get.”

 He sat at his desk and interlocked his hands. “This is a crucial time for us. Tufial and Caleb are travelling to the White House for a meeting with the President and Prime Minister Cameron to sort out a treaty with the mainland. If this goes well, worries of official discrimination will be gone and we would be... relatively safe in public. We need this to go well if we’re going to have their help to stop this infestation. Attacks on the public from things like the Hunters will make the world leaders paranoid and will call this whole thing. I’m trusting you and your teams to keep the dogs under control, or at least keep them out of the media and the authorities’ radars. I’ll give you all the weapons we have. I will give you a blank cheque if you really need it. Anything to stop the beasts from revealing themselves. We have set up monitor centres all over the world and have told the Watchtower to keep an eye on them. What I need you to do is rally all the scouts and the low -profile arms we have and put them in ships to the mainland.”

 Well, that was unexpected. I sat forward in my chair to speak to the old man. “Sir, you realise that rounding up every scout and sending them on the same mission isn’t the best of ideas. The rest of the world could be open to attack, and we’re off on an extermination mission.”

 “I realise that Sabian, but I’m afraid we have no choice. The knowledge of us even being in America has sent the country on to Defcon 3. This is just about as close as we have ever got to being normal, and if prioritisation, no matter how large, is the answer, it is my duty to make sure that those mindless animals do not mess this up.”

 While me, Hayden and Cenaill all knew this was a bad idea, it was an order from a higher power. Back then, the only thing we knew how to do was to take orders. But strangely, when I got back to rally up the troops, Chaz was nowhere to be seen.

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