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Chapter 85: Wendigo

“You fell in love with a mortal woman? Just like that?” Zulema tried to hide the fact that she wasn't unconvinced. She was a long-time purveyor in the belief of love at first sight, and that only pushed her to question the many reasons as to why.

“Artemaia was an astonishingly beautiful woman. Far surpassing the limitless wonders of the cosmos. The verdant forest hues that painted her hair were lit with accents of yellowish-green, the sun radiating off her delicate olive skin made her shine like a goddess, and the smoldering orange dyes reflected in her eyes never burned as hotly as the day when I met her. I can still see her vividly in my mind. She always smelled of dirt.”

“You saved her from her loveless marriage like some big, brawny hero? I believe I’ve a few books with that exact premise.” The priestess crossed her arms smugly. “Looks like things didn’t turn out the same way for you though. What happened?”

“I came to her in the form of a mighty elfwin warrior. I relayed to her that I was a guardian from another world, destined to guide her green elfwin adherents to glory. I was wild and hunted with reckless abandon. The unfettered zeal in which I led her people left a prodigious impression. She grew curious. She wanted to learn how to break the chains of temperance. And it was then that I vowed to teach her how to shed her self-restraint. To be as wild as the spirit of the land.”

“So you lied to her?” The priestess scoffed. “Typical of a man. It’s no wonder they saw fit to punish you. Why do you always make it so hard to be trusted?”

“Any semblance of morality I might have once had has diminished over the centuries. I do not understand. The prospect of lying to attain one’s goals seems to be a favorable one. That is all that matters in the end.”

Zulema looked at him in disappointment. “You deserved everything bad that’s happened to you.”

Derleth grumbled to himself. Whether he agreed or not wasn’t made clear. “Eventually she reciprocated these feelings. My love for her was no longer one-sided. But with Cthugha having eyes everywhere, we hid our relationship as best we could. I took her away—to other planets, other planes. I introduced her to the Old Ones at the edge of existence and beyond that, to the realm that the children of men can only access in dreams—The Real, where the Elder Ones reside, to the tenebrous shores of the Archmage Azotha who tutored Artemaia in the ways of ancient magic. And to the fallen stone city, home to the dread worshippers of Neblinath, who granted her the power of flight with their alchemical concoctions. I did all this simply to show her just how chaotic and aberrant the world truly was. For her, it was the most thrilling experience she could fathom. We enjoyed each other’s company. Much more than I would have thought possible. And for years, she remained in blissful ignorance as I siphoned off the belief of her followers.”

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“Excuse me?” Zulema grew dumbfounded at the sudden twist in his story. “You did what to her? I thought you loved her.”

“It was not my original intent. I did love her, but as time went on, I gained the steely admiration of her elfwin followers. They wanted as she wanted. To be not just druidic monks, but warriors in-tune with the feral spirit of nature. And those elfwin who exalted me, turned from her. They worshipped me in secret, spilling blood not just of animals, but of themselves. And I—I grew fat on their sacrifices. Feasting on their flesh. Consuming a part of their soul. Growing more powerful as more came to me.”

“Y-You mean that figuratively, of course. Right?” Zulema couldn’t stop her voice from trembling, her tone of admonition making way for fear. The story’s dark turn had thrown her. Yet it felt familiar somehow. “You’re not an abomination such as that, surely.”

“Does the thought of that frighten you?” Derleth asked, a pitiable hand outstretched in cold comfort. “The gods of your planet have done worse. The Old One, Macha, has done much worse.”

“Still you speak ill of my Goddess, while you sit here spinning tales of the lost labors of your cursed love.” A familiar scythe took shape in her hand, formed from the chill air around her. She spun it defensively in front of his face before directing its curved blade at him. “At this point, I’d only hear the rest of your tale just to know how you eventually received your comeuppance.”

“Very well.” He clenched his fist and retracted it. “My desire for strength won out over my love for her in the end. I reveled in the worship. Granted boons and favors to my followers for the things they did in my name. And it was my greed that eventually led to her finding out what I had done. She had named me as a force of corruption and ran back to Cthugha to confess everything. And in his righteous anger, he punished me for what I did. To this day, I’m not completely sure how he accomplished it, perhaps due to the pieces of elfwin souls I had consumed, but he cursed me with a bestial form that I was stuck in for a few decades. A curse I eventually turned to my advantage. But it was my hubris most of all that doomed me in the end, for when I finally went back to my kin outside, they simply sneered at the fact that I got caught and cursed by mere mortals. It seemed they cared not about my dalliances with them, but still they used it as the reason for my eventual exile in the end. They locked me in—replaced me. And I have suffered this existence here ever since.”