Chapter Ten
A t first, I thought she was an angel.
No, I’m not talking about those winged harpies, skilled at illusion to make themselves look like the beings depicted in the human Bible stories. Those things just give me the creeps. I try not to be judgmental towards other magickals, but... they are just the worst. They actually trick humans into giving them food, shiny trinkets, influence, and even sex. Claiming it is all in the name of their “God.”
Pfftttt…. yeah right.
So no, maybe “angel” isn’t the right term, but at first, I was so taken aback by her beauty, which came across as purely ethereal. Then she offered to feed me and then to fix the nose she broke, even seemed concerned about a complete and total stranger, and I was swept away by her kind heart.
And now…
Well now, I would swear the Gods sent her in my path as a test because I have never met anyone more infuriating than her. How hard is it to just answer some simple questions? I need to know what is going on here so that I can get back on task. But no... this woman has to piss me off in every way possible. Granted, I’m not known personally for my cooperation skills either. After all, that is why I tend to work alone. But fucking hell... this woman.
Thankfully, the bird chimes in before I get a chance to say something else stupid and set her off even more. “Sythia, I understand what you mean now by being drawn to him. I think we should tell him all of it. We may need the help anyways, depending on how bad the situation has gotten without the wards.”
She opens and closes her mouth a few times while her eyes dart from me to her feathered companion and back again. She lets out a sigh as she drops her shoulders, and asks him in a quiet voice, “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Ori responds, nodding his head at her. He looks at me before he continues, “I will explain what is going on here, but I need you to swear a magickal oath that you will not share the information I am about to give you with anyone.”
I scratch the back of my head while I consider my options. I don’t have many people I confide things in anyways, but blood oaths are a very serious matter. Those who make them can fall ill or lose access to their magick if they are broken, even by accident. There is a way I can ensure that I get something out of this too though, and I do need some straightforward answers. So it might not be a terrible idea.
Glancing at Forsythia, I notice that she is chewing on the inside of her cheek again. Good, it seems that the prospect of an oath has her nervous, too. That lets me know that she understands the seriousness of her familiar’s request.
Fine. Let’s do this thing. I look back at Ori and nod once. “Alright, but I would insist that the oath also extends to you providing all the information you have about the Creatori, regardless of how small or inconsequential you think it might be.”
Ori nods in agreement and Forsythia grimaces. Her face is so animated.
She stands up and heads to a drawer, pulling out a beautiful steel ceremonial dagger. She heads back over to us and plops down in her chair. Instead of shifting back in the chair and away from me, she leans forward and pricks her finger on the tip. I offer her my hand so she can complete her portion of the oath.
My hand tingles where hers touches mine. Why is that? I wonder if she feels it too? I say nothing about the sensation though, as she has already begun and I don’t want to interrupt her concentration. She moves her bloodied finger around my palm in a circle, over and over while reciting her words. Focusing on the spell and not her scent when she is so close is damn near impossible. Something inside me wants her. Badly .
Luro Me Servandum
With her words and oath accepted by my magick, her blood soaks into my skin. She sucks her finger into her mouth and offers me the dagger, then her own palm. I repeat the process and the words, watching until the moment her magick accepts my oath as well. I offer her the dagger back and she sets it gently on the floor next to her.
Ori clears his throat before starting in, “Yes, thank you Mr. Coa- sorry . Thank you, Blake. I will start at the beginning… three years ago, the Creatori was running rampant. It had awoken a week prior and was killing so many magickals. It came to our village. Thankfully Sythia’s mother, Elswyth Grimshaw, was able to chase the beast to this forest and perform a spell to weaken the creature. She was a very strong magickal, being half-witch and half-elf. She was about to perform a stasis spell when the fire came out of nowhere. It startled the creature back into awareness, and engulfed Ellie so quickly no one around was even able to react.”
At his pained words, I glance over at Forsythia. Her eyes are staring off into nothing. Probably not seeing the room around us, but instead, the memory that is being painted before her. She says nothing but her face is full of pain. I wish I could offer her comfort, but that’s not my place. Why would she take comfort in the arms of a stranger who has done nothing but insult her and invade her sanctuary?
Too many wonderful people have been claimed by this monster. It’s a shame she had to experience a loss from it as well.
Directing my attention back to Ori as he continues on, “We have always theorized that the fire was cast by someone working with the creature, but have never had a chance to even attempt at proving that theory. The fire was kil–“ He chokes a little, but pushes through the grief, “I mean... Well, it was snuffing out Ellie’s life force very quickly, and her defensive spells weren’t doing anything at all to stop it. Others were trying too, but nothing seemed to affect those flames even the tiniest bit.”
Ori is shaking his head, and I nod in understanding.
Some demons have strong abilities with fire, and if the proper runes were set in place, an inferno spell would be virtually impossible to break. I won’t voice any of these thoughts right now, though. I might share my opinions with them later, but I’ll have to do it delicately, given the hate that so many magickals already harbor for demon-kind.
Ori continues on, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Ellie threw out her essence as a last-ditch effort. In the chaos, Sythia somehow had enough wherewithal to grab hold of what she could of her mother’s essence. You see, the spell Ellie had cast with it wouldn’t have been enough, and anyone could clearly see that. Sythia took it and added her own magickal essence as well, generating more fuel for the stasis spell. Her intentions were to make the stasis a more permanent solution since no one knows how to defeat the creature entirely. The stasis would have been unbreakable, if you will, with the combined magicks and essences of two very powerful beings.”
I nod in understanding, but it takes all my will to keep my thoughts inside.
She would have died. She intended to die by sacrificing her essence. They could have put an end to this, but the cost would have been both of their lives. It may sound selfish, and fucking batshit crazy, but I can’t help feeling grateful that things didn’t work out and that she survived.
Forsythia lets out what sounds like a timid breath, and Ori continues on. “However, very few witches who do this sort of magick have a familiar as well. So Sythia wasn’t able to give all of her essence. She did perform the stasis, but with our bond, she was still able to live and held on to a tiny bit of her magick. In the end, the stasis spell was relatively similar to the one holding the being prior to that awakening. Sythia used the last of her magick to set the wards around the property and house. Our familiar bond was severed in that last push of magick.“ He looks sad at that last admission, so I give them both a moment while I process all of the information he has given me.
What kind of a magickal is this woman if she was able to send out a part of her essence and live, regardless of a familiar bond? Did she reabsorb that loss with the faulty spell, or did she reabsorb it once the creature woke again?
These are some of the questions rolling through my head, but I know these aren’t the things to ask about right now, and they may not even be able to answer them. I need to get as much information about the Creatori that I can while Ori is still in a sharing mood, and I don’t need to go prodding at wounds that clearly still hurt them both, just to satisfy my own curiosity.
After a brief moment, I know what I want to ask them and push forward through the silence. “I’m so very sorry for your loss. I’m sure that was hard, and you did the best you could with what you knew. Many souls have been lost to this monster’s havoc and I hope to put an end to that.” Ori nods in response, but Forsythia still sits in silence. Respecting her need for space, I push on with my question, “Can I ask though, where did all of this take place?”
I’m a little surprised when it’s Forsythia who proceeds to answer me this time. “The location of the Creatori’s last known stasis point was seven miles east of our current location. I’m not sure how, or why my magick was able to return to me, but I do have it all back. So I can only assume that the monster is not in stasis anymore.“ She grabs the dagger and stands up before continuing on, “I am sure that you would like to go there and check. I know I want to. Please give me five minutes to get changed and grab a few items, and you are welcome to join me.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer but heads towards her bedroom.
I really don’t want anyone going with me, but if she knows the exact spot, that will save me some time. I hesitate, not wanting to start any kind of argument again, but I have to ask, “So is it ok if I grab my pack now as well?”
She stops and looks back at me over her shoulder, a small smile playing at her lips. “Yes, but please don’t blow us up with that stupid grenade.”
A chuckle escapes me. There is no way to accidentally set that sucker off. It’s a magickal grenade that can only be activated by me. Not that she would know that bit. I make my way to the bathroom and begin to put things back in their places. Once that is done, I pick my pack off the floor and stand up, only to remember that there are no doors separating the bathroom from the hallway.
Or more importantly, her bedroom from my clear view.
She has her back turned to me and I can see that she changed into some tight-fitting dark-wash jeans that are tucked into knee-high dark brown leather boots. Her skin looks so silky and my fingertips nearly ache with the desire to touch her. She shifts a little and more light flitters across her skin. Two glorious dimples above her low-fitting jeans just beg for me to lick them.
She turns her torso just a tiny bit and I get the perfect view of the side of her breast, if only for a brief moment. But when she shifts again, my breath is knocked right out of my lungs.
From here, I can clearly see the rather large scar that is extending from under the backside of her jeans. It curves and travels all the way up her side, before curling around to her front. I don’t know exactly where it begins and ends, but the scar itself is quite wide and thick.
I wince as I consider how brutal an injury that could have caused that must have been.
She begins pulling her top on and I feel like a gross pervert for watching her dress. I’m sure the scar, like any other personal questions I have tried to ask, isn’t something she wants me to know about. Thankfully, she hasn’t noticed me standing here, so I quickly exit the bathroom and work my way quietly down the hall.
Ori is perched on one of the island stools when I make it back to the kitchen. I don’t want to rummage around in here, but— surprise, surprise —I’m thirsty again. I look at Ori and nod toward the sink. “Would it be alright if I filled up my water bottle?”
Ori looks puzzled for a second, before bobbing his little birdy head up and down quickly. “Yes, of course. I am sorry we should have offered you something.”
I wave off the thought as I head to the sink. Since Forsythia is still getting ready, I decide to prod Ori for a little more information if I can. “So what kind of magickal is she?”
He stiffens immediately and replies tersely, “She is the daughter of a powerful witch and is one-fourth high-elf.”
I don’t miss the bit of omission in his statement.
“Ok, but what about her father’s side? I haven’t seen eyes—“
Ori jumps onto the counter and I jerk slightly at his suddenly swift movement. That little fucker can move fast if he sets his mind to it. I make a mental note of that so I won’t be caught off guard next time.
He glares at me and says in a serious but very hushed tone, “That information is not relevant, and we will not speak of it again.” At that he turns and hops off the counter, moving over to join Forsythia as she comes down the hall.
I finish filling up my bottles and put them away in my pack. I see a bottle on the counter and fill it up before handing it to Forsythia on my way to the door. She nods in thanks, and puts it in her own pack, before following me out. Ori is right behind her as she shuts the door before magickally sealing it up.
“Here we go fellas,” she says before turning and heading east into a thicker part of the woods.
I fall in step behind her as Ori launches himself up through the trees. I’m ready to face this thing, and I’m not interested in trying to decipher why the dragonfly that has been following me, is now hitching a ride on Forsythia’s pack.
I will just put that on the list of shit to figure out after I have dealt with the Creatori.
Maybe.