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The Hunter and the Templar	By : BurneHazard Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 6471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Diablo III (3) and all content therein is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. This story is for entertainment purposes only and I make no money from writing it.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Author's Note:
            Warning! Templar storyline spoilers are contained within this chapter. They are NOT in the order which you unlock them. Read at your own discretion. Also, this chapter contains H/C and BDSM themes. But if you like candy from strangers, press on!

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            "Killashandra..."
            Tucking the journal away, the hunter sat up and turned to face Kormac. The templar was fully armored as he had been for the last few days. All of the group to join the caravan had their reasons to remain ready to fight at a moment's notice. Primarily because they were hunting a witch who knew they were coming. It meant the caravan could be ambushed or attacked at any moment during the journey. Other than a sand storm scattering the beasts of burden for a day, nothing had happened yet.
            "Yes, templar?" she asked.
            He was quiet for several moments. She noticed that he was still not looking at her, even though addressing her. It had been the same for everyone else he had to speak with as well. Her concern grew.
            "I wanted... That is... Can we speak?"
            Catching his meaning quickly--especially given the glance he sent toward where Leah and Lyndon were currently talking--the hunter rose. She snagged her bow and quiver from habit and nodded.
            "Of course."
            Kormac nodded, turning quickly to walk with a measured step toward the edges of the caravan camp. The night was a good one, peaceful and calm with just enough chill to bite and enough heat lingering in the sand to keep one comfortable. The stars sparkled and shone brightly in a sky dusted with only a couple of clouds. Even with such calm and beauty, there was no peace and Killa was alert as she sent her bat out to scout the area around them for any hints of threat.
            "Thank you for helping me to fight the darkness," Kormac said suddenly. "To contend with evil is the essence of what it means to be a Templar."(1)
            Rolling her shoulders, the hunter shrugged. "So long as you don't get in my way."(2)
            "But I have, haven't I." It was not a question.
            "I like to think we've gotten past that. It was a rough start, but we both adapted and came through the trial the better for it."
            Silence fell again as they walked. Now more than ever she could tell something was troubling the templar. She could almost sense its weight upon his shoulders. However, she remained quiet and gave him time to broach the subject he clearly wanted to discuss in his own time.
            "How were you initiated as a Demon Hunter?" he suddenly asked.
            Killa blinked and looked toward him. "A group of them found me after my family was butchered. They asked me if I wanted to hunt demons, and I said yes!"(3)
            "That seems...simple enough," he said.
            "How about you? Were you raised a templar in the order?"(4)
            "No. Our scripture says, "As a farmer reaps his wheat, so must the order harvest and purify the weeds."(5) I was...initiated more formally than you were in your order."
            Considering that, Killa nodded, "Much more complicated."
            "But your order destroys monsters. Mine redeems them."(5)
            "Perhaps you should save redemption for those who seek it," she said. "To force redemption on those who do not seek it, is like forcing corruption on those who did not wish it."
            It brought a response at last given the way his mouth opened and emotion flared in his eyes briefly. Too briefly though. Instead of firing a response back, he closed his mouth and sighed. Frowning, the hunter turned her attention to where the bat was completing another wide circle. All was clear. Then she returned her attention to the armored figure beside her.
            "Looking at it in that light, I'm no better than the monsters we have been putting down," he finally said.
            She shook her head. "I have seen enough monsters to know that you aren't one of them."(6)
            He said nothing. Finally, even Killa's patience was exhausted since she saw he was sinking even deeper into himself.
            "Kormac, just what is on your mind? You're speaking in circles and falling deeper into whatever burden this is you cling to."
            Drawing to a stop, the templar just stood there. Intent on some answers, the hunter stopped as well and turned to face him, waiting.
            "Do...you remember what we spoke of in that cursed torture chamber?" he asked in a voice almost too soft for her to hear.
            "Yes. About facing our fears and recognizing strength when we see it."
            "Well...I meant more about...talking about our pasts."
            "I remember," she said after a moment. "You mentioned that inquisitors stripped your sins and memories of them from you." She shook her head, "I don't fully understand your order's motivations. Why do they take your past from you?"(7)
            "Our initiation blinds us to our sinful pasts so that we might clearly see the future and prepare for the final battle,"(8) he said as if reciting something he had heard or been forced to repeat over and over again.
            "I see," Killa said, her frown returning as she began to grasp where the talk was going. "And how does your order purge your memory?"(9)
            Now Kormac went silent. This time, she could read the emotions crossing his face as he warred with himself over something. Biting the inside of her cheek lightly to remain silent, she waited as he struggled with himself. Finally, he took a deep breath and lifted his head to stare off to one side of the hunter.
            "I was chained to a wall and beaten. By the third day, I was mad from pain and hunger. That is when the whipping began. I was told I relived all of my transgressions, everything that brought me tainted joy. The whip took away that joy, then the sin, leaving me pure."(10)
            For a moment, it was all Killa could do to contain the rage that rose in response to hearing that. It was so easy to picture in her mind as well given how she had first come upon the templar. She could see him chained to a wall with only rags to leave him decent, beaten and bloody, raving from hunger and thirst. She could also see his broad back being laid open by the repeated bite of the lash.
            And in that last thought, something inside her tingled and tightened with the hunger she had felt in her dreams. Hunger for...something other than death or another kill. It was alien and so enticing. Giving her head a sharp shake, her glare fell to the man before her.
            "Restraint bolsters the weak, not pain. You have suffered needlessly!"(11)
            Kormac's head snapped toward her, matching glare for glare. "Don't you understand? The templar order is trying to protect humanity from extinction! What is my pain against that goal?"(12)
            Glaring into his eyes, she suddenly realized that although they were speaking of one thing, he was trying to say something else entirely. Of course it was linked but, not the same. She was seeing pain and fear in his eyes as well as righteous anger. Even his tone was saying something other than the provided argument. With that revelation, her own anger sputtered and faded. He had to have seen it in her eyes as well because shame flared before he suddenly turned away.
            "Templar..."
            He ignored her and walked away. Standing there for a moment, Killa was suddenly aware of that dark hunger making more things inside her body tighten. Only now...she had her own inner demon to wrestle with. And the damned man only made it worse.
            "Kormac," she called in a low voice.
            He stopped but did not turn back.
            "...are you...asking me to help you with something? Something you cannot bring yourself to say?"
            Even with full plate, she could tell his shoulders tensed from the way the dim starlight shifted over the edges.
            "Your valor places you amongst the highest ranks of my order,"(13) he said with tension and resignation in his voice.
            "Thank you," she responded, moving closer to him. "But I'm more proud to call you my friend."(14)
            "As am I."(15) Some of the tension eased before he bowed his head. "Only the highest ranking members of the order...are pure enough...to purify others..."
            Killa froze mentally for a moment. He turned around as she stood there, silently starting to curse at nothing in particular save her suspicions again proving to be true.
            "You fight with both honor and ferocity. I know that a pure soul must burn within you,"(16) he continued. She saw a nameless plea in his green eyes at last. "Killashandra... Please...please purge me of my sins!"
            One of his hands rose and she glanced down. A part of her wondered where he had carried the whip he now offered her as she had not seen it on his person before. She also had not been looking for it.
            "Templar..."
            "Please! You're the only one I can turn to for this!" he begged with voice and eyes.
            Killa caught a sharp breath as images, sounds, sensations from her dream suddenly assailed her. That tingling, dark need was there again, making something below her stomach clench and tighten in ways that left her light-headed. Then she understood what she was feeling. While her training and hatred had helped her to forget the sensations tied to most emotions, she was not a maiden nor inexperienced in worldly ways. It had just taken her a while to remember.
            "Do you even know what you're asking, templar?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.
            "I do," he responded with more conviction and certainty in his voice than she had heard for over a week. "I have fought with this, turned it over and over in my mind. But I'm a templar. I cannot and will not deny the truth. And the truth is, I need this."
            Even cursing up a storm in her mind did not make her hesitate when her hand took the offered whip from his open hand. The relief and gratitude in his eyes was almost painful to behold. This time it was she who looked away. Attempting to compose herself with several deep breaths, she scanned their surroundings with her own eyes as well as the senses of the conjured bat scouting the area.
            The caravan was about one more day away from Caldeum so they had made the final camp in a rocky area for shelter against the wind-driven sand that often came and went without warning. During their talk they had walked into an open area of the sand. The bat spotted a smaller outcropping of rocks not much further from where they were standing. A nod in the right direction and they headed toward it.
            "Kormac, how...thorough do you want me to be?"
            He was silent for several steps. Clearly still warring with himself, he shivered as if chilled before answering without lifting his head. "No broken bones. No severely flayed flesh. Make me heal myself of the worst after...and make certain I will be able to fight tomorrow."
            "Very well."
            Going silent, he nodded. They moved into the rocks and Kormac set his spear and shield aside to begin removing his armor. Although Killa stepped forward to help with the pieces he could not reach the fastenings to, he moved away from any further help. Shortly, he was stripped down to the leather leggings, linen shirt, and boots. As he stripped off his shirt, she placed her own weapons aside and toyed with the whip in her hands, thinking.
            "I am ready."
            Looking up, she turned to see him standing facing the rocks. His hands were braced, arms spread open, body angled forward and back bared. Only his loincloth worn beneath the leather leggings remained. Surprised, she found herself momentarily frozen. Heart beating faster, her eyes roamed over the body on display before her. Muscle bunched and twitched as he waited patiently for her to begin but he did not move from his position.
            Even if there was a part of her mind screaming that this was wrong, that it would make her no better than the monsters that had first raped him of his past and who he was, the majority of her felt...free. Reservations slipped away as she stepped toward the man. He was truly an impressive specimen, toned and dangerous, deadly...and hers to toy with. The darkness she had embraced upon becoming a Demon Hunter rose around her and she consumed it.
            He flinched when she brushed the coiled whip across his lower back and up his side to rest against the back of his shoulder. The action had achieved what she wanted. His eyes had opened and he turned his head to look at her. She lightly tapped the whip on his shoulder and stepped back. Free hand rising, she began to trace the symbols to conjure another companion as the bat continued to stand sentry.
            "Do you know why you are being punished, templar?"
            When the black spider took shape, he shuddered and almost flinched away. The arm closest to the arachnid moved away--only to have him push it back into place after a moment of effort.
            "I allowed my faith to waver," he whispered. "I was weak enough to doubt...I faltered in my duty."
            Killa watched him struggle to stay still as the spider approached him and crawled a few feet up the wall. With his eyes fixed on her companion, she reached out to lightly trail the whip up and down his spine. Each time he shuddered. When the spider moved its legs to web his hands securely to the rock, his eyes closed as his breath quickened. He managed to endure the first torment as the spider secured his other hand to the stone. Then, it climbed into place to rest on the wall over his head.
            "No, templar," she said, making his head jerk up to turn and open his eyes to see her. "That is not why you are to be punished."
            Kormac opened his mouth to say something only to have her press his leather belt between his teeth.
            "You will want to bite down on that."
            Nodding in response, he let his head fall forward once more. Moving back, the hunter stepped around behind his splayed form and finally released the coils from her fingers. The whip hissed softly as it fell but he heard it. Just as he heard the rush of air and the crack that laid the first strip of fire across his back. A sound left him before he steeled himself for the next blow.
            The first few cracks of the whip were more to test his response. Given they were not that far from the camp site, if he were too loud someone might come investigate. Apparently the rocks around them were angled to carry the sound away from the camp. Her bat picked up nothing but a faint sound from their location and no one in the camp seemed alarmed or curious in any way.
            Killa accepted those findings and turned her full attention to Kormac. The sun-baked rock retained enough heat that a thin skein of sweat had formed on his back around the unbroken skin throbbing red from her first blows. Adjusting her stance for a better angle and more control--as the whip was one of the many weapons and tools she had been trained to use to fight with if ever parted from a bow--she drew her arm back.
            Her next blow made Kormac jerk sharply as another sound was torn from his throat, muffled by teeth sunk deep into leather. The lash parted flesh, finally making a mark on him as blood flowed. Eyes narrowing, she focused her strength to maintain it with every following strike. The whip cracked again and again. Each time flesh parted and blood flowed as she laid mark after mark on the templar's body.
            Chest beginning to rise and fall sharply from her exertions, she focused on that jerking, shuddering body. As blood began to stain the sand in small drops and trickles, she let her hatred bleed free to further fuel her blows. Kormac lurched and writhed before her, dancing and twisting in a rictus of pain only sweetened by blood and sweat. The scent of hot flesh, blood, tears, and agony fueled that dark hunger like dry wood to a fire.
            Only when the templar suddenly sagged, legs giving out to leave him held up only by the tough webbing securing his hands and arms to the stone did she pause. Tongue darting out over her own lips, she swallowed hard and let her lips part again to try and catch her breath. Sweat had formed beneath her own armor as well as a distinct wetness pooling between her thighs, trapped against her skin by the leather and cloth beneath it.
            Moving, stretching out and relaxing her arms and shoulders, flexing her knees and hips to remove the aches of a workout she was unaccustomed to, she approached the sagging templar. Leaning forward, she slid her hand under his head to lift it. She found no resistance and used her whip-bearing hand to catch his head before it fell too sharply backward.
            Sweat and tears marked his face, making dirty trails where he had pressed his head against the rock several times in effort to stay quiet. Scrapes from the stone and sand were also visible. The chocolate hair was matted with sweat and nearly black from it as it clung to her glove. Blood even marked his lips where he had bitten them in effort to keep the belt between his teeth the few times he had almost dropped it from aborted screams.
            "Templar," she said, fighting back the softer desire to call his name.
            With effort, he opened his eyes. Pain burned as brightly as fever within the forest green gaze as he blinked rapidly to clear away excess tears and see her. He relaxed his jaw when she gave the belt a tug. There would be teeth marks in the leather for a long time to come.
            "Do you know why you are being punished?" she asked again.
            Killa watched the mind behind those pain-drowned eyes struggle to grasp the question and push an answer past those bloody lips and strained jaw.
            "I...I...failed...I sinned..."
            She made her eyes grow cold as she shook her head and pressed the belt back against his teeth. He took it automatically, but there was confusion in is eyes.
            "No, templar. That is not why you are being punished. Heal yourself."
            Turning away, she moved back to her prior spot. Kormac gave a strangled sob--but he did not spit the belt out to beg her to stop. Instead, he did as she had ordered. Golden light rose from his form and shimmered with shy flickers across his ruined back, drawing flesh together and restoring skin to cover muscle. It faded swiftly and left him shaking with the drain. So, she drew her arm back again and sent the lash flying.
            Briefly, her stomach twisted with a sickened sensation as flesh peeled away from muscle once more. Her focus was interrupted by the random thought of just how long he wanted her to do this. Then he cried out again and twisted that hot, tingling throb in her loins. Catching her breath sharply, she squirmed a little before striking once more. Of course his back was not her only target either. Stripes of red marked his thighs and arms as well as curling across his buttocks and shoulders.
            At last, her arm aching and throbbing from her exertions, she stopped. Chest again heaving for needed breaths, she slumped against the stone to relax complaining, aching muscles. Pulling herself together, she again approached Kormac's head. Reaching out, her fingers gripped the sweat-drenched hair to draw his head back. The weight was heavy in her hand as his face was again bared for her to study.
            He managed to open his eyes on his own this time as the belt slipped from a jaw that went lax at her touch. Pain made his eyes emerald green, bright and clear and burning. It was almost as if she could see the light within him caged behind his gaze.
            "Templar," she said with a voice far harder than her current emotions warranted. This time, while something rose to fill his eyes, it was not the man she had come to tolerate and even like. Nevertheless, she asked the question, "Why are you being punished?"
            Bloodied lips moved, trying to form words against hitching, sobbing breaths. A voice as cracked as the desert earth finally broke free.
            "...not....p-punished....puh-purif...fied..."
            To her own surprise, she felt a smile crossing her lips. Nodding, she decided enough was enough. "Good. You've passed your trial, templar. Heal yourself, and rest."
            Killa had no clue where in the hells her words were coming from. Whatever thing invented them however, she was gifted with seeing those burning green eyes of some broken man fill with light. That light bled through his very skin, surrounded his body and closed the deepest of the wounds that had bared the bone beneath. It pulled the skin back together and knitted the flesh and muscle beneath.
            "...th-thank......you..." he gasped.
            His body sagged even as she was rewarded with seeing Kormac fill those burning green eyes once more before they collapsed. She found herself cradling his head in her hands, suspended from the rock unconscious, and mostly healed. With a shuddering sigh, she turned her head to look up to the spider resting over them. It crept down and began to use its own venom to dissolve the webbing without contacting his flesh.
            It took a while and a decent struggle given the templar was a heavy man when unconscious, but between the spider and the hunter, they managed to lay him down on the ground. Her companion spread their cloaks out and she maneuvered them both onto the cloth. Then she sent the arachnid back to camp to fetch some water. It left her alone in the rocks with Kormac's head pillowed on her lap.
            Shaken by what had just transpired, she just stared down at his bloodied form as her fingers slowly slid through his hair in idle petting and soothing motions. From her own experiences she knew his body would be extremely sore for days and the newly healed skin extremely tender. The muscles beneath would retain a bruised feeling for over a week before his body finished its natural healing.
            When the spider returned with the water skin, she took it and one of the cloths Kormac used to clean his weapons. Wetting it, she began to clean him up and help his feverishly hot body cool down at the same time. All the while that she worked, Killashandra wondered just what had been wrought by their actions...primarily her own, as there was still a sticky wetness between her legs and a feeling of that dark, tingling hunger lingering without satisfaction.

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Author's Note:
            There you go, a dark teaser. Please, let me know what you readers think? I'll be posting more like this later on with things heating up (at least that's the plan), but if I don't get some feedback soon...my muse will die.
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The Hunter and the Templar