The Hunger
The spectral energy swirled around Maera's fingertips. She could already feel the spirits fading from the room. Scattered furniture had spilled into the foyer. The paintings were so ripped apart only the largest scraps made it possible to tell what they'd been. Even without her ability to "feel" ghosts, it wasn't hard to tell the manor's occupants were beyond saving. Noble messes were always the worst to get involved in.
You'd think I'd have learned by now.
When the bedraggled guardsman stumbled through the inn's doorway, a trail of blood oozing behind him, Maera had no intention of helping him. He was so pale his veins stood out clearly even though he was on the other side of the room.
"Windvale Estateâ"
Many ears priced up at that. An equal amount of fear, what could overtake a family with such strong magical ties, as there were eyes filled with gold. Those who came to aid the great house would leave with enough gold to live their own lives of luxury. And who knew how much they'd pay to keep others from discovering such a celebrated house was saved by commoners. Until the guardsman began to describe the screaming, jumping at the sudden popping as logs burned in the fire place. When he drew his last breath only Maera remained determined to settle the matter.
Now she could only try to survive her decision. She picked up the skirts of her worn dress and made her way through the rest of the rooms. Maera used her hand to guide herself along the dark hallway. When moonlight did drift in through oddly spaced, uncovered window, she was grateful. Her footsteps were muffled by woolen rugs as she walked in on one wreckage after another. Judging by the broken lounge chairs and tipped over bowls of rotting fruit and puddles of sweetly scented wine, the house's occupants had been enjoying a lavish evening. Maera risked walking over to one of the nearest piles.
Gingerly poking what she assumed was a pear, Maera let out a gasp when she left a mushy imprint. This was wrong. This was out of her skill range! Food spoiled quickly enough, sure, but this was days worth of decay in barely a night. And there were still no bodies. The stench was cloying however, Maera wasn't sure if she'd have made it this far if there were bodies strewn about as well.
Forcing her legs to move, Maera hurried back into the hallway. Her knees were knocking together so badly she'd worry about bruises if she though she'd ever get out of here. Portraits of a now defunct noble line littered the hallway; their faces had melted away, as if a flame had been taken to each one before it was discarded. Following the unintentional trail, Maera found herself in the entrance way to a grand ballroom. The only light came through arched doorway that opened out onto a sprawling garden. Translucent white curtains billowed idyllically in the night breeze. The illusion was broken when a dark, winding puddle stretched towards her.
Were they running from a creature from outside or within? Seeing the paper lanterns still intact, though the long tables were skewered, answered her question but without giving any comfort. The source of baneful magic seeping through the floorboards was still within the manor's walls. Somewhere watching as Maera looked hopelessly over all it had wrought. And she had come here all on her own.
A presence solidified behind Maera. It pressed against her, she could feel the rising and falling motion of a chest. But she felt no air against her neck. This knowledge quelled the churning of Maera's stomach somewhat. Despite the feeble attempt at gathering her courage, she still stood frozen; joints much stiffer than the fading summer night should cause.
"It's a spirit, still just a spirit."
How many of those had Maera dispersed since her power surfaced? Being called to serve Helvica was seen as barely a step above being a Wild witch, but it came with its own chance of glory. Death was not a realm one dealt with before time inevitably tossed you in. Those who found themselves on this path found very little instruction. No schools existed long before fear of spirits, and those who walked the line between them, boiled over. Despite this hatred, rewards to deal with situations like these were high. It wasn't unheard of for a follower of Helvica to make their fortune for dealing with a spirit too strong for another witch.
At the moment, that dream of luxury was far from wanted. A light breeze lifted thick brown curls from Maera's shoulder. The spell holding her in place was broken. She didn't stop to think how such a soft breeze crossed the expansive ballroom. Maera spun on her heels. Ignoring the warning bells clanging in her head, Maera stopped herself from fleeing once she returned to the foyer. Her heart thundered against her chest like a wild animal refusing to be caged. Drowning it out as best she could, Maera opened herself to what spectral energy remained.
Instead of leading her upward, towards a private study as Maera expected, wispy strands flowed around the curving staircase, around her ankles, back into the darkness she'd just escaped. Maera relied more on her senses than sight until she came to the dining room. The polished wood was stained. Loose wall panels were discarded haphazardly across the floor. This revealed a door that was hanging on only by its topmost hinge. Her earlier assessment felt flimsier by the second.
Maera took a step forward. The sound of shattering glass echoed under the rounded heel of Maera's boot. A chill poured over her. The long dining room tilted. For a moment she thought she would faint, but the room snapped suddenly into focus. If she'd been under the illusion her presence hadn't been noticed before, that hope lay in as many pieces as the destroyed plate. Maera approached the doorway with only an occasional glance downward.
Maera didn't give herself time to think as she walked down narrow servants' stairs. The walls pressed against Maera. Instinctively she pressed her hands against either wall as if that would keep them from closing in. She felt her chest heave but still, she continued on until she came to a small chamber. Wooden boards hung loose off the ceiling. The panels were rotted away from the inside out; all of them shrouded in a sickly green dust. An ominous light emanated from every crevice. In the center of the room lay another doorway, larger and more intricate than any she'd seen since arriving.
The faint glow of a single candle was visible through the crack. Maera stepped closer, until the smell of decay became instantly suffocating. She didn't want to see what had become of the night's revelers. If her suspicions were correct, then there wouldn't be much left that resembled a human. Maera tried to grab the golden doorknob, but as soon as she touched it the color flaked off, leaving behind bleached white driftwood. It looked too much like bone for Maera's liking. Despite her misgivings, she pulled the door open.
Immediately her stomach rebelled. The space she looked into was impossibly...big. What passed as the floor was a dark, pulpy mess. Maera's eyes were drawn to a pile of bones higher than the rest. A torso with an exposed ribcage stuck out. Not only for the cracked bones, as if each had been broken for the marrow within, but for the still beating heart. It confirmed her worst fears. Even the strongest magic users would flee from what she now faced.
From above she noticed a writhing figure as it uncurled its massive form. A dark ichor dripped from it that nearly overwhelmed Maera's senses. It carried the weight of uncountable souls. Every movement resulted in a loud squelch. Maera would've jolted if it were possible. Before her eyes she watched this thing's body change, absorbing the fleshy bits and reaching limbs that poorly imitated arms down for more.
Its own realm? How long has it been here?
She knew the stories. Wild magic was never supposed to touch this realm; the physical brought needs, such as a hunger that could never be sated since this was no mortal creature. It couldn't be killed because it had never lived. Maera's only hope for survival was to unmoor its realm.
And for that I need to find the anchor.
The door? Maera took a step back, intending to search for the magical link. Instead that heavy presence from earlier pressed against her. This time decrepit hands snaked around and gripped Maera's arms. With inhuman strength, she was lifted and carried forward. The door shut with a resounding click. Maera struggled uselessly. She was dropped into a puddle of whatever dripped from the being. Her hands shot out in an attempt to break her fall. Something squishy rose between her fingers. maera's body spasmed as she finally threw up the watery chicken broth the inn had served.
When she finally stopped heaving she noticed the withered legs circling her. Curiosity and fear warred within her but fear won out, keeping her eyes downcast.
"Did you come on some business with my family?"
The voice was young, though as dry and papery as the body's appearance.
"You'll be displead...or not, to discover their fate."
Maera's mind raced. Had Bersaba Windvale survived? Was she at fault? Someone grabbed her chin and yanked upwards. The face that stared into her was both youthful and elderly beyond any human years. Yet, the woman was undoubtedly human. The resemblance to the house's former heads was undeniable.
"Lady Bersabaâ" Maera started to plead.
The woman threw back her head in laughter. She released her grip on Maera who was now able to scuttle away. Studying the woman from afar made it hard to believe she wasn't the Lady. She had the woman's height and the regal bearing of any noble, though her gown became tattered and faded from a vivid red to almost white.
"Then who are you?"
"You man call me Lunete, last surviving Windvale and one who calls the Wild."
She thinks she can control it?
To hell with what Lunete thought she was capable of! Maera had to get out of here. She searched around for the grand doorway she'd come through. In the distance was a form that promised escape but the shadows around it were dense. Maera gathered what strength she could and made a run for it. She tried not to think about what she was slipping on.
The closer Maera drew to what she thought was a door, the more her throat tightened. A lumpy mass was slowly revealed as the darkness crept back. Maera craned her neck backwards as if that would make it possible to tell where the being connected to the floor. To Maera's horror, the fleshy connection began to writhe and Lunete pushed her way through. With each step Lunete took she pushed Maera back.
And each step Maera took felt more wooden than the last. The realm was made of Wild magic called to the physical world using Lunete's own body. The door had been a lure Maera had fallen for as punishment for ignoring all the stories, the lessons she'd been taught since childhood.
"I only sught to get a pouch of gold, maybe, as a reward."
Lunete took another step forward. Maera took another backwards.
"I won't speak of this place at all."
"And if I want you to speak of it?"
Maera's voice caught in her throat. "What?" she squeaked.
"What if I want you to speak of the Windvales. That they fell to the same daughter they abandoned to fate instead of dirtying their sanctimonious hands."
"Tell the world that they had more than a son who couldn't find his own ass if you led him to it."
Maera just nodded. Whatever got her away from Lunete. She'd never think about this night again if she could help it. Lunete reached out faster than Maera could see. She only felt fingers tangle in her hair and suddenly, Lunete's face was inches from her own.
Above them more limbs than could be counted reached downward. The waves of magic now swirling around them made Maera dizzy. Just when she thought she might faint or vomit again, the same green glow that had permeated the manor's hidden chamber filled Maera's vision. Searing pain made it impossible to think as she was pierced and torn open. Bright spots exploded within Maera's mind, within her core where her magic was called, as Lunete broke her will.
The world will know us.
Lunete's voice seemed to come from every direction at once. As the glow began to fade Maera could see the mass above move in jerky motions. She realized she was being dragged a moment before drifting off to a blissful darkness.
Blinding sunlight eventually pulled Maera back to consciousness. She squeezed her eys shut. She tried to roll over, shielding her face with her arms. Her body felt like on pulsing bruise. And then it hit her. She was awake! Maera sat up too fast. The world tilted, sending her toppling over. The sound of running water broke through her confusion. For a moment Maera feared that she'd been left in the middle of the woods and was as good as dead anyway. She opened her eyes despite their burning. Upon seeing the familiar rusting fountain in the town's square Maera almost began to weep. Her mouth felt like it was filled with sand; even breathing felt like rubbing sandpaper. Half crawling, half stumbling, Maera desperately moved the to the fountain. She gripped the rim as if that alone would keep her out of Lunete's pocket realm. Maera pulled herself up, started to dip her hand down but let out a dry, strangled scream. Her renewed strength fled and she she crumpled to the ground.
Standing beside Maera had been Lunete reaching down, mimicking her, as if playing with a doll. The afternoon heat instantly chilled. Maera could only stare off blankly, shaking as she considered her fate. She couldn't hear Lunete but the magic coursing through her was undeniable now. It pressed against her skin seeking an escape.
"Wild magic wants to be free. Always," she'd been told.
"That's silly. How can magic want anything?"
But now Maera understood. It wanted to leave, to be free of her as well as Lunete. It wanted to return. And one day it would. Maera didn't know if she'd survive two encounters with the Wild. She didn't know if she'd lived through once. Maybe her stomach was too tied in knots to rumble. Or maybe she'd never feel hunger again. Maera slumped back against the fountain and that's where she remained.
The townspeople watched her wearily as they went about their day. If someone did approach out of pity, Maera could only say, "You will soon know my name."
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