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The Hunter and the Templar	By : BurneHazard Category: +A through F > Diablo III Views: 6473 -:- 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.

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            In the end, their suspicions and fears had proven true. Once he had been restored, Zoltun Kulle had upheld his bargain and led Killashandra and Lyndon to the black soul stone. When he found it to be tampered with and the souls of five lords of hell imprisoned beneath, he turned on them. A final time he asked the hunter to join with him and rule the world at his side. This time, she took the utmost pleasure in telling him simply what she thought of him.
            He laughed as he sent the two giant constructs to attack. Lyndon was almost crushed by one, forced to run while firing to avoid its devastating blows. As he circled the sanctum's floor, he watched in a state of shock as Killa reduced the second construct to a pile of rubble in less time than it took him to run five strides. Then his own fell as she shot her arrows across the center chasm.
            Utterly stunned, he was rooted to the spot near the fallen construct as he watched the flurry of attacks the hunter unleashed. Not even the sand-devils Kulle summoned could stop her. The wind-driven sands might not have been there for all the indication she gave as she spun and dove, firing without cease to drive the sorcerer in circles. Around and back and forth, Lyndon was almost dizzy by the time she fired one final arrow that pierced the man's magical shields and drove into his heart.
            The arrow was vastly different than her normal ones. As fire licked over the long robes, Kulle thrashed. His laughter twisted into agonized screams as the magic consumed him from within, eating him from the inside out. Where the Horadrim had failed to destroy his body, the hunter succeeded. The fiery magic turned his flesh to char and ember, burning and eating the remains away. In the end, there was not even enough ash left to fit into a cupped hand.
            And across the span, Killashandra stood triumphant with eyes burning like hellfire. Lyndon found himself suddenly locked into place for another reason. The grin on her face was as demonic as the creatures she hunted. She had enjoyed Kulle's dying screams, fed off them like they were honey. And even he could tell she was not fully satisfied. This kill had been one to fuel her vengeance and it had fallen short.
            She crossed the be-spelled sand bridge toward the black soulstone. Just as she reached it, Leah arrived along with Adria and Tyrael. With the mortal angel's arrival, the scoundrel found he could move again. His first action was to gasp for breath since he had not even realized he had stopped breathing in the face of what he had seen. He held back as the rest congregated on the hovering stone and Adria retrieved it.
            Now he had a reason to be afraid of his wild wolf. And more reason to figure out what was going on with her that apparently concerned the templar. If what he saw was any indication, she needed something that likely only Kormac could provide. The problem was...how in the hells was he going to figure that out and make the templar do what he had to do to keep the hunter sane?

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            The end was rather anticlimactic to Killa. Belial proved to be far less of a challenge than she had been led to believe. That...or something was seriously wrong. Part of her was still concerned about the rate her powers were increasing. In fact, they seemed to have doubled since Kulle's death and her exposure to the black soulstone. But it was ridiculous to think being so close to it would affect her. He had not had the chance to use it--right?
            Caldeum was saved. The people praised her as their savior and a hero. It was a bitter victory at best. And it should have been sweet. Even as she returned to the camp above the city, she was troubled by these things that should have been but were not. This time was truly different because she did not feel lost and confused as before. Just...disappointed and concerned.
            When she returned to camp, she went straight to Haedrig to leave her weapons and armor for any fixes or patchwork he saw need of. She did not even look up as she left. Lyndon was shadowing her and Kormac's eyes were upon her. Even Tyrael played silent watcher as she went to her bedroll and sank down to stretch out and rest. Sleep would not come but she still closed her eyes and tempted it to approach.
            Kulle's words and the visions he had shown her continued to plague her mind. Every time she began to doze she would see them again. If not them, she would see Kormac thrashing beneath the lash she wielded. Or she would see Lyndon losing himself beneath her as she rode his captive body. What also stuck in her mind was the vision of the enchantress being raped by the mad sorcerer.
            Jealousy or not, rage or not, she did not wish actual ill will on the woman. And to see something like that...left a dark stain on her heart. It was almost reassuring that she could be affected that way. The fact that she was struck by seeing her supposed enemies in such a state proved she was no demon. But it did not mean she was a good person. She could not wish harm like that and still be a monster in other ways.
            "Hunter?" a voice just above a whisper drew her out of those circling thoughts.
            Eyes opening, she looked up to see Kormac crouched near her. The camp's fire had died down and the entire place was quiet save for the sound of sleepers breathing. Almost against her wishes, her eyes darted to the enchantress's bedroll. Eirena was there, sound asleep from the appearance of things. Without another word, the templar beckoned her in clear request to follow as he rose.
            Without his armor, Kormac could move quite softly indeed. Considering for a time, the hunter finally decided to follow. It was not as if she had been asleep anyhow. The two moved quietly from the camp and into the rocks past the washing niche. Around one bend, she quickly traced the sigils to conjure her bat once more and sent it ahead to do a quick sweep. Nothing stirred and all was well.
            After a little more distance between them and the camp, the templar stopped and turned to face her. Taking a deep breath, she released it and leaned back against some of the stone to wait and hear what he had to say.
            "Killashandra, I've...that is...about what...I wanted to apologize if...what I asked of you...made you uncomfortable in any way. It was not my intent."
            "You asked nothing of me that I was not capable of giving, templar. I am always glad to help a friend with a problem."
            His green eyes were nearly black in the gloom of the rocks but she could still pick out the dark shade of color. Something was again eating at him and she decided to get on with it. After all, it seemed her suspicions had yet to be proven entirely wrong in anything.
            "Do you require additional assistance, templar?"
            "Well...no."
            "Good. Because despite what you believe, I can tell you that what happened has opened my eyes quite a bit. I am not as pure a soul as you need for your ritual."
            Kormac looked taken aback by her statement. His frown returned. "I...don't understand."
            Sighing, Killa folded her arms across her chest. "You really haven't grasped what it is to be a demon hunter, have you?"
            "I remember what you told me about using the weapons of demons against them. But it does not matter. For all that darkness you've embraced, you're not a demon and you are not a monster."
            "Words of wisdom, templar?"
            "Faith. My faith in you."
            That caught her by surprise and she looked up.
            "I believe in you and your quest, hunter. While I do not agree in your methods or the tools you use, they work. In fact, they have proven the strongest weapon we have against the darkness washing over this world. Whatever you believe, this darkness has not corrupted your soul because it remains pure."
            Frowning, she looked away. "I find that hard to believe."
            "Why?"
            His face was earnest, his eyes asking to understand. She studied him before her gaze moved away. There was no way she could tell him what had been happening inside her head and heart. No way she could try and describe the things she had been shown and how they affected her. And he took her silence as a lack of answer.
            "Perhaps your self-doubt is the very thing that keeps you from being a monster, hunter."
            She almost laughed at that but managed to swallow it at the last moment. The smile remained as she shook her head. When she still said nothing, his features grew mildly angry.
            "I am a warrior in the Templar Order. Do you not think I recognize the taint of corruption and darkness when I encounter it? Do you think I am some silly child blind to the differences between light and dark?"
            "And how would you know such when you cannot see into my mind and see the things I have seen about and within myself, templar? You cannot even bring yourself to attempt remembering the past your order's inquisitors stripped from you."
            Her fiery response made him bow his head. Apparently it checked his temper as well because his voice was again low when he spoke rather than loud with passion.
            "I have considered what we discussed, and you are correct. I know little about my past beyond what my order has told me." His head rose as a little touch of light entered his eyes. "But what does it matter? Look what they have done for me. They have turned me into a living weapon, a light against darkness."(1)
            "At what price? Your past? Your humanity? After the battles, that is all we will have left,"(2) she fired back, temper growing.
            "I wouldn't know how to begin. How do I seek memories that have been taken from me?"(3) he inquired as his shoulders sagged a little.
            She took a little pity on him and her voice also quieted and gentled a small bit. "Focus on anything you can remember before you joined the order--dreams, nightmares... It's all there. You need but find a key."(4)
            "You may be right,"(5) he finally said. Taking a deep breath, he released it. "And I think that...I may have found a key. But I don't think it will exonerate my order."
            He reached behind his back and tugged something free from his belt. In his hand was a book and he held it up for her to see.
            "I found a journal on Jondar's corpse, written in an ancient templar cipher. I can translate it, but it will take some time. Perhaps studying his treachery will give me a clue into my past."(6)
            "Perhaps. Why are you concerned?"(7) she asked.
            "It is dangerous. Jondar was once a man of faith, devoted to the templar order. What if he discovered something that made him betray himself?"(8) Kormac was struggling with himself again, it was clear upon his face before it hardened with his decision. "It matters not, for I must do this anyway."(9)
            Turning his full attention back to Killa, he approached her, closing the distance between them. In the darkness of the rocks, he did not see how his nearness made her tense where she rested.
            "I must ask you to promise me something. Should I...lapse into my old sins, whatever they may be, you must kill me as I killed Jondar."(10)
            "Done," she said a little too quickly. "Now what?"(11)
            Kormac moved even closer. Reaching out with his free hand, he laid it over the one visible against her upper arm. Thankfully he could not feel any tension through her hand and had not touched her tense arm. She narrowed her eyes briefly as he stepped closer, trying to ignore the sudden spark of sensation lit in her lower body at just the touch of skin to skin.
            "I have translated a strange passage from Jondar's journal. Long before he began serving Maghda, he found a set of what he called "key words" hidden in a dusty libram. He writes that when he read these words, memories from his past returned to torment him. It was at that point that he began to mistrust the order, though he did not say why."(12)
            Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he offered her the journal and grasped a single folded page sticking out from between the others. "I am prepared to look upon these words and risk my soul, but I want you to understand something. I know I may die at any time. When I do, it must be without a single doubt that I am serving the Light."(13)
            After a moment of hesitation, she unfolded her arms to take the journal. Holding it loosely, she permitted him the chance to tug the paper free without tearing it further. "There is no sin in confronting your fears."(14)
            "Thank you, my friend. But please...remember your promise."(15)
            "My word is my bond," she said simply as he took the page and stepped back. As an afterthought, her free hand went to her belt and she drew the wizard-light free, letting it rise into the air over their heads so he could see the page clearly.
            It took a few moments for him to further steal himself. She remained silent and watchful as he forced his breathing to steady and calm. Then, bowing his head, he unfolded the page to look upon the words. Almost without conscious thought, the hunter flexed her knees a little, ready to move if there should be any unwarranted reaction. Magic was not the only thing that could cause unexpected outbursts or other harmful side effects when it was undone.
            "How odd. They are simple words. Words that I have never seen together befo--uh..."(16) He stopped speaking as light flared within those green eyes. Instead of golden light, it was white. It flashed and flickered like lightning. "I can see everything! Water on a leaf. A burning hut. Light in my mother's eyes. Make it stop!"(17)
            Dropping the page, Kormac's hands flew to grab his head as he fell to his knees. Wide eyes stared sightless at the ground before him as his body jerked with each new memory bursting into his mind. Killa moved forward, dropping beside him just as his hands fell from his head to claw at the stone they knelt on. Swiftly, she grabbed hold of his wrists and used her strength to force his arms up across his chest.
            "Make it stop!"
            Sliding around behind him, she pinned his arms there, pushing her entire weight against his back as he cried out in pain and struggled, caught in the flood of memories she could not see. Falling forward, the templar thrashed in the grip of a seizure as she straddled his body and kept him from harming himself as best she could while being bucked against.
            As suddenly as it had begun, the fit passed. He jerked a few more times then slumped, gasping for breath. The flashes of light in his eyes came slower, then slower, finally stopping all together. He closed his eyes, shuddering beneath her as she tightened her embrace to keep him still. "I... I... It's slowing now. I can... Oh no. No!"(18)
            Whatever he had just seen made him jerk and renew his struggles as tears of what she assumed were pain fell from his still sightless eyes. By then, his thrashing struggles and her attempts at wrestling him down had caused him to twist around beneath her so they were face to face with his arms pinned between their chests.
            "I was a young man, a promising soldier of Westmarch. The order recruited me. They lied to me! Piled false sins upon me!"(19) Pain and rage bled into his raised voice as he nearly screamed in the realization that he had indeed suffered torment needlessly--as Killa had told him before.
            "Why do you think they did this?"(20) she asked, slightly breathless herself from their struggles.
            His emerald eyes were again clear and lit by a familiar righteous gold light barely kept in check. Clearly his own temper was as volatile as hers. And he had not yet realized just what positions they were in.
            "I do not know, but I am sure this is why Jondar turned from the order. He was a fool. The grand maester cannot possibly know what his inquisitors have done! When I return with the tomes, he will punish them for their sins."(21)
            Suddenly, Kormac realized he was lying on the ground and that Killa was on top of him. His hands were perilously close to her breasts and throat, the latter framing both his arms and giving him an all-too-intimate idea that she might just have enjoyed pinning him down if the firm buds of her nipples were any indication. Eyes widening, red immediately burned across his face as she withdrew.
            "Please... I must think on this."(22)
            "I will leave you to your thoughts then, templar. But I suggest you seek your bed tonight. We will be leaving soon to hunt down the last demon lord."
            The hunter turned away as if nothing had happened. But at last, the thick templar was starting to wonder about her and the reaction he had felt after their struggle. Unfortunately, his mind was awash in chaos about what it might mean, as well as memories that had not been within his mind for years, and the great impact of what he had just learned would mean for the templar order. Kormac would probably get as much sleep as the hunter--which was to say, none.
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The Hunter and the Templar