Chapter 1
The relentless screaming was what woke me up. Pure and unavoidable agony, as if the gods themselves had come down and erased all that was good.
The sound echoed from the darkest corners of my room, yanking me awake. Something deep and dark roared in response, and it was only then that I found the courage to leave my bed, lighting the four half-burned candles scattered across my room with a whisper. I blink as the heat and light slap me in the face, stumbling toward whoever was outside.
Another scream shook the walls around me, a hollow scream I had never thought was possible. I yank open my wooden door, and a cold husk of wind skitters inside.
The dried leaves crunched under my steps the further I followed the screams, deeper into the woods. The creaking of the door behind me faded away, the sound of that relentless screaming quickly drowning it out.
It caught me by surprise when I finally saw her, the young girl kneeling in the mud, her arms wrapped around her head, shaking uncontrollably. She was sobbing amid her screams, the sound hallowing the ancient forest that surrounded us. Her hair was loose hanging just above her shoulders, a handful of it missing on the side, and her grey gown was ripped and bloodied. The mud she laid was tainted with her blood, dark red spots specking the dark brown. She pleaded to no gods, to no ancestors before us. Only repeated the same word, again and again and again.
Run.
It was enough to make me pause and stager back a step. I stood there, searching for something else in those woods, but only found a creeping darkness that recoiled at her wails. If I had any good sense I’d run. I’d lock myself in my cabin and pray to the old gods for forgiveness. But the woman’s plea were hollow, her eyes shut. She hadn’t even noticed I was here. Something inside me twisted at that, at what horrors replayed in her mind.
I hurried to where she laid, my feet already beginning to shiver from the cold, and knelt in front of her, grabbing her arms and tugging it away from her chest. I pulled her upright and she let out another wail. She was cold, too cold, as if death had already claimed her long before I found her.
“I’m going to help you but I need you to calm down”
Another piercing yell tore through her, any effort to calm her down failing miserably. I tried to hide what lingered so deeply in me, the fear that threatened to crawl up my throat. The woods had always been peaceful, but most importantly they were always safe. Empty. Home. And this- this was death. This was everything I had been kept from, warned to stay away from. But here it was, and nothing could have prepared me. Not the images I imagined, not the stories I was told.
Run! Run!
Her screams were unbearable, worse than anything I had ever heard. I couldn’t stop the chill that went down my spine, that froze my body. Her eyes remained shut, but her lids were lined with a deep rust color. Her stomach had a gash, oozing both blood and pus. It was deep enough to immediately draw concern. But beside from her wound, she seemed to not have many other major physical injuries.
I lean closer to examine the gash further, and the smell of her festering flesh flushed my senses. I bit back a gag and carefully lift her ripped dress to the side. Her gash was ragged at its side, and it was deeper than it was wide. And it had three scratch marks running down the middle of it. I would have thought a creature did this to her, if it hadn’t been for the piece of sharp obsidian in her gash, with no indication of bite marks.
More bizarre was the moon-shaped brand on the side of her hip, scattered with keloid scars at its edges.
She was a witch. No, not any witch. A crescent witch.
The woman toppled forward with another cry, tugging at whatever was left of her dress forward and covering her brand once more. But she paid no mind to the gash on her side, or any of her injuries for that matter. She closed her eyes, yelling through the rain at whatever she relived behind her closed eyes.
Run!
“Let me help you please” I pleaded with the witch, but it was no use. She could not hear me. And she was running out of time.
I place my hands gently on her gash, the witch trashing under my touch. I close my eyes and begin to concentrate, blocking off the rain that splattered along my exposed back, and ignoring her wails or the rancid smell. I begin to whisper the spell, concentrating on any tether I could find to link her wound to the spell. But I found nothing, only a darkness that shot back at me, threatening to swallow me whole. It was intoxicating- hallowing, and I quickly let go as if I could get stuck in that same void.
As I fell back, her screams slowed to a stop, as if she somehow she felt me reaching out. Her breathing began to slow as she finally whimpered “They took it.” It was so low I barely heard her. I quickly move to grab her hand, shifting her body to where she can lean on me. She let me do so, her back falling onto me with a thud- she was tired.
“What they’d take? Who did this to do?” I wipe my numb fingers over her eyes, brushing away the flakes of dried blood clinging to her lashes.
She finally opened her eyes, bloodshot and tired. “They took everything. They took my magic.”
The howling wind seemed to slow at what she said, as if granting her this mercy. Even the rain fell lazily now, in small droplets that gathered around us. Taking a witches magic, any magic, it hadn’t been done since the Titans roamed the land. A sob followed her lips soon after, bloodied and cracked under the rain.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, I got you.” I said in a feeble attempt to comfort her.
“They took it” she choked out, twisting out of my embrace to fall forward onto the snow. “They took it” she repeated again, letting her elbows buckle as she collapsed onto the mud face-first, letting loose a silent cry.
It was instinct then, or perhaps pure ignorance to grab the stranger’s shoulder and square her onto my chest, pinning her as gently as I could. With my free hand, I wiped the mud clean from a space next to us, and trace a couple of runes on the ground. Almost instantly after finishing, the wet cold around us softened into a warm cocoon. She thrashed harder at the pull of my magic, as much as she could with her injuries. “Please” I breathed. “Please let me help you.”
“They took it.” the woman sobbed.
“I know” I murmured, letting the warmth ease the frigidness, “I know”
She let out another sob and I took one of her hands in mine. Magic didn’t work on her. It was impossible, the implication alone ran a chill down my spine. But I couldn’t think about it, not now anyways. Because the young girl was about to die, and I needed to do something.
Her injuries were bad, but contained to her abdomen. The blood had even began clotting. It was good enough to heal the old fashioned way. I had some supplies in my cabin, enough to clean the wound and buy her some time until I can call Dhara. But I couldn’t remember where I left them exactly, it had been two years since I last even saw them. I scrunched my eyes tightly, but I couldn’t summon them, not without knowing where I had left them. I would have to run and look for them.
“I can clean the wounds.” I gently lifted her enough to crouch up, “I need you to hold on just a little longer”
The woman simply fell forward once more, letting another hallowing scream rip through the forest. I tried not to shiver as it ripped through me. “Please” I begged, staggering a step away from her, “Please.” With all my strengthen, I begin to run to my cabin. I sprinted through the mud, the winds pushing my heels until I made it back to my wooden door. Another scream shook the cabin, fainter than the last. “Come on, come on.” I thrash open the bathroom drawer and begin looking through every drawer, grabbing loose bandages, random creams, rags and anything around that could be helpful.
With my hands full, I begin to run back to where I had left the woman, not bothering to close the cabin door as I sprinted through the woods once more.
I eventually found the woman, found her laying in the snow.
Silent.
I drop all supplies I had gathered, letting them clatter onto my feet. She was dead. Not by her injuries, but by a stone-cut obsidian dagger that pierced her neck. Red words traced the ground around her, We are coming.
I should have stayed there with her, should have at least covered her up. Should have done something- anything other than run. But I did, ran and hid in my room as if I was next.
