Seed 15

June 21st 2032.

My skin buzzed with the magic in the air, like I was walking on glass. The sun was

in the sky. Shining brighter than I had ever seen before. Ultima said it was because the barrier between the realms was growing thinner. Drawing the world closer to the spiritual energies of the sun.

Every celestial body contains magic in some form or another. The beastfolk are said to have ties to Ersete, the planet itself. Shifters like Althea though were tied to the energies of the moon.

Which was almost identical to the Earth’s moon… but it had an odd texture, finely patterned and layered like fungal mats, marred with craters more like gasping holes and blank eyes and crisscrossed with veins of mountains and canyons.

“Of course the damn carcass planet has a flesh moon that would give people with trypophobia aneurysms.” I shook my head as I squinted under the burning sun. I thanked myself for rubbing my skin with alfresa berry paste, a fleshy berry that could heal burns when eaten, or turned into a paste to provide resistance to fire and sunburns.

I was wearing my entire outfit, as the cloak had adaptive climate cyfrin chains embedded into its magical weave. I've also made some adjustments to my bracers which went all the way up my palm, deciding to embed glyphs into the resilient leather. Four glyphs were embedded on each palm. One for each element, for each aspect of spiritual energies.

I could activate them with a tap of a finger, or clap my hands to call up all four glyphs into a convoluted mass of magical power. Void was useful for guiding the other elements, easing the difficulty of shaping and weaving the elements. I could also either hold the energies or leave them inactive with lack of intent. So I wasn't forced to blow my load and—

Oh yikes, I’m going to pretend I never made that thought.

Glyphs were becoming a key factor in my Craft. Both as a means to cast spells and sources of elemental energy for potions and crafted items. I even carried a knife with a fire glyph on the hilt, letting me channel the element of fire through it.

I shook my head and clenched my fists, reaching out solely to the glyph of Frazo, of fire. Threads of fiery khi burst out from my gloves and weaved into my skin, subtle as a spider web on a dewy morning. I saw how they reached up and out towards the sun, drawing strength from it.

Witches drew on their element, like to like, and I could feel it for myself. Fire reached out to the sun, to heat and warmth. Water was pushed and pulled by the moon and the waters. Earth sank down into earth and stone. While void threaded itself into the smallest and largest of things, the background of dark energy that permeates Reality.

I don't know how I knew that, I just did, like I knew the palm of my own hands, and the pattern of scars along my body.

God, so many scientists back home would kill to play with dark energy. Too bad.

I took a stance, one I had learned from Ultima. The element of fire was an overwhelming offense, better channeled by strong, dynamic weaves of will.

So that was exactly what I did. Launching a sweeping motion which cast out powerful golden-violet-green flames. Dragon’s fire was apparently special, but I don't know how or why, I just did my best to fuel the flames with my intent.

I could feel the sun with far more intensity, soaking into my skin like an old friend.

“So you're out feeling the sun like I told you, Celia?” Ultima broke the silence with her smokey voice, and I gave a nod. “Can you feel how the sun ignites the energies of life?”

“I can. It's a total rush, nothing like on Earth.” I could feel a connection with the sun, it’s light and heat twisting and writhing like a living thing. “So the Summer Solstice has a way to be celebrated, doesn't it?” I had to ask, as I hadn't done research there, more interested in the function of their government and society.

“We celebrate the Solstice by lighting fires all night long, usually under thatched roof rents. It's a way to celebrate both the Sun and the coming of the rains, along with potlucks.”

I smiled. “I do like food, and I did get a message from Althea to attend something in her jaario.”

As I had learned before, land under Calafia Law was common property belonging to the tribula and not quite to individuals, in a technical sense at least. With different kinds of property ownership.

The chief had their mensal land, granted to them to act out their duties, usually to build castles and fortresses, and for farmland. Though everyone here has highly productive garden plots, maybe about one in ten worked directly in agriculture, fishing and forestry, usually those focused on certain branches of magic.

The second kind of land was that owned by the Clans and Specialists as a stipend for their services, remaining in their hold often for generations.

The third kind of land was that held by tenants, rented out by private owners or the chief or king. Fortunately, this was mostly for people who wanted extra land rather than people who would die if they were kicked out. The fourth was the tribe-land, belonging to everyone. But mostly held by the Families, each owning their fair share in perpetuity as long as they made use of it.

The fifth was wildland, amounting to the entire wilderness of Cruorpool’s island and used for grazing, hunting and fishing. The sixth type was a mix of public and private ownership, land owned by an entire Family over many generations as a common property.

This was relevant because a jaario or townland was the smallest geographic division of land, covering… point four to two square kilometers, with the average amount of land owned being about three to six acres. It was basically Althea’s neighborhood we were invited to, anywhere from thirty to two hundred people could live in a rural jaario.

“Are you thinking of showing up?” Ultima prodded me out of my brain with a gentle push.

“Yeah… we’ve already worked on setting up items and potions to soak in the spiritual energies of the Solstice.” That process was a form of tempering. A kind of ritual to run a flow of power through an object, turning it into a vessel for a spirit or other type of otherkind.

For us that involves chains of cyfrins built to strengthen any object within itself, as well as drawing out aspect spirits of the sun, giving them homes to dwell within.

Sun-spirits are powerful beings, even as aspect-spirits, complex blends of light and fire and beyond. They were sunlight given form and glorious purposes. A bane to spirits of darkness, a brilliant insight piercing through ignorance. The wrath and mercy of the sun in equal measure.

Lots of people prepared their own rituals, making themselves more productive by using solar energy for power.

“You should go then, have some fun with your friend, I can hold down the fort here. You’ll just need to cook something up for the potluck.”

“Ye, I can—” I cut myself off. “I have to cook?”

Ultima raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you can’t, my brilliant little apprentice?”

I pouted. “Shut up and let me think of something to make.”

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I huffed quietly as I maintained an active lift spell over the massive pot of menudo. Which had taken me literal hours to prepare while using Ultima and Arali as my assistants.

Getting pre-boiled beef tripe had taken a trip back to Earth. But it had also cut down my cooking time by a few hours, and it was mostly a standard dish. Cow stomach, red chili pepper base and seasoned with hominy, lime, onions and oregano.

I had also added terror boar feet because they were naturally spicy due to bodies rich in capsaicin, along with the ability to spit up to fifty feet away. Blinding and pepper spraying someone in an instant… which can then explode at the will of the boar into spicy organic napalm.

It also made them very tasty additives to my menudo, a slight blend of two worlds. Althea’s jaario is one of about thirty in Cruorpool, and around eighty thousand spread across Calafia as a whole.

Which sounds like a lot until you realize there are at least thirty-five thousand cities and towns in the United States divided into an ungodly number of neighborhoods… you could basically treat them as a street name in terms of address.

Of which my country of birth had an unfathomable number of them.

Althea’s jaario was rural, over six kilometers from the town core at the shore that had been pushed outward for multiple kilometers by a combination of magic and cultivation of forest sargassum, doubling the size of Cruorpool.

That still made it a forty-minute walk on foot… to under a minute for Ultima, hypothetically in seconds if she wanted to kill us both in the supersonic crash.

The staff form of an implement was just a tool to free a witch from the harness of gravity. Using the connection between them and their witch to share energy. A sympathetic power, drawing on aspects of their soul to fly. Everyone had a touch of the elements inside them. Which was why I found it curious that I could ride staffs and brooms at all.

I was starting to think I had been using khi subconsciously at this point, and wondered how I hadn't noticed. Regardless, I had been dropped off in the jaario after about two minutes.

I smiled at the sight of the jaario, which had a style reminiscent of Spanish settlements mixed with gothic horror and H.G Giger’s dreams. It was essentially Cruorpool in miniature, laid out onto a grid and surrounded by farmland. There were around forty or fifty buildings, spreading out like a spiderweb from the central forum.

Most were houses of varying shapes and sizes, some were skinny little buildings two or three stories high, carved out from chitinous bugtrees. Others were squat and wide buildings. Like missionary buildings with walls of rusted bone and windows of odd plastic.

All of them were painted in dazzling arrays of color, reds and pinks and yellows, blacks and blues and grays, along with green. It was like a tropical forest crossed with a world of flesh and bone and blood, just like Cruorpool as a whole.

Unsettlingly gorgeous.

I glanced around as I walked down the… would I call it a decumanus? They weren't Roman, either way, I was approaching from the west.

The forum was occupied by a gathering of way too many people. Easily a hundred or more were gathered in a single place. A massive tent was set up, painted with glorious images, dragons and phoenixes and flaming salamanders gathering around a screaming sun. Six out of ten people were umano. But that still meant sixty people of various flavors of weird. I could smell food all around, blending together like exotic spice with a hint of charcoal and smoke.

I frowned, feeling anxiety curl around my chest with a vengeance.

“Celia!” A loud but familiar voice cut through the air, and a grin pulled at my lips.

Althea practically sprinted towards me, kicking up dust with her speed. Her thick and toned legs made short work of the distance. She had swapped her usual outfit for something new. A long sky-gray skirt down to her knees showed off her calves, with a dark brown top patterned finely with field yellow exposing her robust arms.

She had let her curly hair loose, ringlets bouncing with her run, and her wide lips were pulled back into a beam. Althea skidded to a stop inches in front of me, and I tilted my head up to look her in those pale gold eyes of hers.

I smiled. “Hey.”

Althea giggled. “Hi.”

She didn't go for a hug, simply reaching out for my sleeve. Her claws once more curling in the fabric, gently pinching against skin.

“So, I brought some menudo?” I gestured to the floating pot, my bracers cast in pale silver.

“That cow gut soup?” She asked.

I snorted. “Yep.”

Her grin was full of fangs. “I think my family will enjoy that.”

----------------------------------------

Althea’s extended family had proved overwhelming in every respect, adding up to a total of twenty people across three generations of the Rookwood family, since Harlynn had no living kin.

Her grandparents, their three adult children and their partners, and several kids between each of them. That was actually seven adults, as one of Althea’s aunts had two husbands. Althea was an only child, with the other two relationships having four and five children between the duo and the trio.

Too many people, most of them werewolves.

“So we finally get a more in-depth look at your friend, pumpkin?” Harlynn had a slightly high-pitched voice, not grating but high, with a sharp bite to it. “And she's brought a lovely soup to add to the dinner table!” She grabbed the searing pot with her bare hands, placing it along other soups and stews and liquid foods.

I pulled back my cloak to pull out a basket full of birote from home. “Here, I didn't make it. Brought it from a… home market, but it's a good birote.”

“Birote?” A pudgy and wild-haired cousin spoke.

“Traditional sourdough bread loaf of my culture, brought from far away.”

Pamela spoke up as well. “And by culture you mean human, and by far you mean the Human Realm?”

“I'm human, yes, but humans have thousands of cultures so no. But I did bring the bread from home.” I explained with an easy smirk at the surprise spreading across the pack of werewolves. “Also the beef, but the pork is from here.”

Althea’s parents were both very pretty. Pamela had long wild locks of crimson speckled with forest green, with dark skin traced with vines running up and down her entire body. She wore a ruffled robe dyed with green and red and yellow, with sharp beautiful features and the same wide smile as her daughter. Also tall, surpassing six feet.

Harlynn was short with the same build and hair color as her daughter, but with a far more manic expression and vibe, wearing a white coat painted in a rainbow of colors, and goggles firmly draped around her neck. She was far paler, and her werewolf, her garou lineage was far clearer. She was hairier than most, ears positively fluffy. Her pale arms had blonde hair, forming tufts at the back of her palms. Her claws were painted with red, contrasting against her pale skin.

“You've got a very intense look for a human,” Pamela responded and I blinked once or twice. “Some would think it a challenge.” Her bared main fangs were easily an inch and a half long.

“Just curious, witch and otherkind anatomy is uhh very fascinating.” I could also say they were both pretty hot but that would be weird.

“Please don’t bother her, she's come all this way.” Althea placed a protective hand on my shoulder, a light scowl on her face. “Least we can do is not scare her off.”

“Your moms aren't scary though?” I pointed out. “They've just got big claws and big fangs.”

Althea just gave me a look I couldn't read. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I ignored the glances from her extended family, just smiling at my friend freely. “I'm not exactly that easy to scare.” I was not immune to fear, but two pretty ladies were not scary.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

One of Althea’s younger cousins, missing a fang with a bandage on their face, spoke up.

“So do humans really throw their pee down from the heavens?”

I choked on laughter, and Althea turned a lovely darker shade. “N-No! Not like that at least, unless there's leakage from a plane’s septic systems.”

“Plane?” Harlynn questioned.

“Flying machines, like airships. Their flights can last hours so… septic tanks, they leak sometimes.” Airships were surprisingly rare due to lacking rich supplies of sundamp and power to drive and lift them. As in the vast majority of them were owned only by the Chantry. Skayaks were more common though.

Sundamp was just the local name for helium, which was neat.

The wolf witch blinked. “Do they leak a lot then, because there aren't that many airships in Calafia?”

“We have like two hundred thousand of them in my country,” I shrugged casually as I glanced at the food. “So no, they don't leak often.”

Why were they all staring at me like that?

Harlynn snorted. “Guess there's a lot we don't know about humans is there?” I shrugged in reply. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I'm not sure what I can or can't eat though. Humans have very fragile stomachs.”

“My momma’s spaghetti and eyeballs should be edible, it's from our cow scallops.” Althea offered something edible and I grinned.

“That works.” Cow scallops were gigantic land-dwelling scallops that could grow up to two meters in diameter and three to four hundred kilograms, and could have two hundred eyes.

Most of the attention was lifted off my shoulders as people started to eat and make their own conversations. The Summer Solstice was a quieter affair, a ritual built to keep the spirits calm and in check. If one fought on such a holy day, there was a good chance it would rile up a spirit.

They also included fireworks designed to form magical diagrams. Made to appease the spirits.

“I guess my family is a tad overwhelming?” Althea nudged my shoulder with a chuckle.

“It's a family of almost twenty werewolves, who seem to all be extroverts. What do you think?” I muttered sarcastically and sighed as I dropped like a dying flower. “Sorry, just nervous. Your family is nice, I've also noted your home is the closest to the fields?”

“Most of the farm fields are our own, since we’ve been agricultural witches for generations. Everyone else has specialized for other duties, healers, weavers, teachers, hunters, enchanters, grocers. The Weyl clan entrusted us with the duty, and helped us with the work too.”

“The Weyl did?” She nodded. “Suppose that makes sense, if that's your job.” I nodded to myself, their society certainly wasn't medieval. “Calafia is interesting, it's so different and yet so similar. The magic alone is incredible.” I rubbed my hands, gently pressing the fire glyphs.

There was only a glimmer of light as I created raw heat and spiritual fire, forming circular motions to swirl the energies around. Her parents noticed, eyes wide as I gently weaved threads of fine khi. I took in the heat, relaxing as I gently kneaded my muscles with heat and warmth.

“This coming from the girl who discovered a lost form of magic all on her own?” Althea gave a smug air at my growing blush, and poked at my cheek with a toothy grin.

“Your magic is cool too, Althea. I still remember when you knocked me into that pond.” I poked her back as she blushed a lovely color.

I felt eyes on my back, and turned to find another table glancing over in my direction. It was a table of about a dozen people, all having slightly fancier outfits than most, and an odd crest shared between them. Most of them bore red, pink, and purple hair.

“That would be the local sect of the Weyl clan, they've been asking around about you.” Althea answered my unspoken question. “They're mostly interested in what kind of things humans have developed when it comes to manipulating life.”

So they were interested in how we did agriculture and animal husbandry?

“I wouldn't mind answering questions, I'm curious about their form of elemental magic.” Plant or wood was considered an element, a complex field of magic all I'm its own. “I'm no farmer or agricultural scientist, but I can probably look something up.”

“Well, there might not be time for that,” Pamela butted in. “They have a guest from one of the other clans apparently.”

Oh… who could it be—

There was a flapping of wings as someone dropped from the sky at an angle, and I blanched at who had arrived.

A wapuk with red-purple scales turned, grinning widely.

…

Sometimes I really hate this place.

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I crossed my arms over my chest, using the pressure to alleviate my own anxiety.

Of course the damn warrior princess was here. With her lithe and athletic frame and beautiful scales, her gorgeous wings, her pretty face, and wild locks of eye catching pale lavender hair.

About two or three hours had passed since her arrival. So I was devouring spaghetti and eyeballs, enjoying the meaty crunch. They were oddly tasty, having a taste like beef but… more intense and spiced. They also had a local soda, which tasted like cola.

It was made by using an organism known as a lung-slime, a living sac organism that would take in and break down air and gas to produce energy. They used it to carbonate water apparently.

“You okay?” Althea whispered in my ear, keeping an eye on the obsessive noble after my ass.

“Nervous, neurotic, frustrated.” I laughed bitterly. “Setting aside her being a princess, I don't understand her. I don't like that.”

It made me feel unsafe, made me want to pull off my skin and crawl into a hole to turtle away in.

“I'll keep her attention off of you as best as I can.” Althea offered herself as

a shield and I felt relieved she was here.

Dinah hadn't looked at me once, focusing on eating strange round balls of meat that leaked… black oil? Was she eating petroleum?

Althea let out a sound. “Oh right, yeah. Dragons can eat oil from their prey, burning it to fuel their fire.” That was both fascinating and terrifying, if I tried that it'd kill me.

It also meant there were beings in this world that stored energy in the form of more exotic hydrocarbons than fat. Because of course there were…

A claw gently tapped at my wrist, and I looked up into Althea’s soft gaze. “C’mon, if you're this nervous to the point you're eating nothing we can go elsewhere.” I blinked as I looked down to my fork… and saw I had finished my pasta.

That's embarrassing.

“Yeah… that might be for the best.”

We took a step back from the table of werewolves and co. I was guided towards one of the multiple bonfires set across from the central one under the tent. There was a pattern to them, and I wondered if they had religious significance. We sat down on a log, hips touching.

There were kids playing, making a game of jumping between the bonfire like it was a jump rope rather than a mass of heated gasses and combustion.

Which is not unique to them, I think some Midsummer festivals do the same thing.

“It'll be okay, I know Clanheirs can be… difficult,” Althea did her best to reassure me. “And Dinah isn't so bad, just not the best with people.”

“I don't like the pressure she puts on me. I don't like how she’s so focused on me for reasons I don't understand. I'm just human, nothing special. And yet she wants to drag me before a king and queen, and acts like I should do what she says.”

It pisses me off.

“I think I understand that… the clans are important here, but not to you.” Althea looked ponderous, pale gold searching my face. I don't know what she found. But she just grinned and together we watched the fire.

The quiet lasted for a long while, but it was a comfortable silence. One that calmed my nerves and let my social batteries recharge. Althea occasionally stirred up the fire, using her magic.

“You've gotten better at manipulating the elements then?” I asked absently after a half hour of calm, peaceful silence.

“In a sense, yeah.” Althea had a distant look in her eyes. “I can't bend the elements the same way. My energy doesn't touch just this world.” And wasn't that a hot topic in this realm? “I have to touch the spirit world with my khi, but I didn't know how until you showed me.”

I blinked and saw the bonfire for what it was as she shifted it, a host of spirits gently bending under her touch. Spirits of fire, heat, and cleansing light, pulsing in unison with the other bonfire spirits. She pulled at the flow of connections, and the fire burst hotter.

“I guess I did huh?” I rubbed my fingers together, which were loose and free from my bracers. “Thanks.” For being there for me.

Althea’s ears twitched, and a low rumbling growl leapt from her lips. She revealed her fangs, claws radiating out.

Oh no.

A shadow blocked some of the light of the bonfire, and I looked wearily up into the dark sclera of Dinah clan Frazoiyo.

Wonderful.

“What do you want?” I couldn't help my biting tone. Althea was standing by me, eyes narrowed and ears raised up and forward.

“I just wanted to talk.” She placed her hands in front of her chest, palms facing us.

“You’re not very good at that.” I pointed out as I lazily spread my legs, adjusting my posture. “You've tried to chase me down like twice now? Doesn't make me very pleased to listen to you.”

Dinah showed her teeth, tail flicking back and forth. “I had my reasons, as I've said before you are the apprentice of one of the most wanted lawless witches in Calafia. It is imperative that I bring you before my family and clan chief.”

“Why?”

She huffed angrily. “Because it's my mission, tasked to my clan by King Asriel.”

The King of Danub?

No…

“Why?” I continued being a bitch, and Althea glanced at me with concern.

“Because all lawless witches have to be brought in by hook or by crook.” Her tail was whipping back and forth now.

“Why?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to do, for the sake of the Titan and our clan. It's… just the way it is.”

I looked her right in the eye as I said it. “Why?” I didn't want her platitudes, I wanted the truth.

“Because I have to do something right for once in my titan-damned LIFE!”

Her scream echoed across the field. The only reason there weren't eyes on us was because of the fireworks going off. Althea looked horrified, staring at me with an uncertain look. I grimaced, unable to articulate why I was so angry…

“Hah. That’s exactly why I'm here too, I wanted to learn magic to feel better about myself.” I was blunt, and I could taste iron in my mouth from biting my lip. “I didn't come here to be someone’s prize, Dinah. I wanted control over my life.”

Dinah started. “I… but I have to do this, I can't be a failure, not again. I'm supposed to be the heir. And the Chantry is a good thing, they saved us from the dangers of wild magic. They saved our clan from extinction.”

Oh. Did they now?

I felt a spike of pain through my skull as reality rang like a bell, and Althea howled in agony.

So much anger, little dragon, so much pain brought to the surface. The voice was silky smooth, inching along the edges of thought.

“What is this…” I murmured as my vision swam.

Child of Man. You are an omen of greater things and don't even know it. You cracked open her armor just wide enough.

Space broke.

There was a hush over the crowd as a spirit unfolded itself into reality, harsh cracks ringing into the air as it slid out of the spirit world. It looked like a living eclipse, of dark swallowing the light, a corona whipping around black and pushing out to form jagged limbs.

“What are you?” Dinah looked… drained, wings weakly opening up, hands sparkling with oily guttering flames.

I was something greater once, before I was Forgotten. You will learn why.

Tendrils reached out to slam into my chest and into Dinah and everything—

Faded away.

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I tasted ashes, and a strange rotting smell on the wind, like burning flesh. Dinah was here too, looking frazzled and confused. I turned my head, and found myself staring at a spreading blaze.

It looked like an entire town was being burned to the ground. The flames that did so… were not normal fires. It was more like arcing masses of plasma moving like liquid napalm.

Dinah breathed. “Grandmother?” Her voice was hoarse, and I followed her gaze towards a horrific scene.

Two groups of people on opposite sides, one made up of warriors wearing all white with masks of crimson, bearing symbols on their clasps. Along with a single wapuk, clinging to the robes of… someone else.

They wore the same white robes, but they were so much more ornate, ruffled, and patterned finely with lines of light and silver, like a radiating flower. A pale gray cape was draped over their shoulders. Their face was obscured by a mask of silver, a hood, and a crown of bloodied thorns.

“Aliyah of Adamu Enguina.” There was an expression written in the eyes of that masked man, one I knew despite never having met this person. “I will give you one final chance to surrender to Calafia’s mercy. Admit your wrongdoing and save your life.”

“I will not, you malevolent creature.” The voice was familiar, as an ancient-looking dragon woman opposed the being. “Pale King, The False Martyr. Murderer, kinslayer, monster.” She cursed him in Old Tongue, and I shivered. “You turned one of my kin against us with your lies, I will not forgive you for that.”

The small dragon clinging to the Pale King’s robes scowled with an ugly expression. She looked much like Dinah in red and black and gold, electric blue eyes filled with hate at the woman who looked identical to the clanheir I knew.

“Stubborn old witch!” Light billowed out from his mask like weeping blood. “We know you've taken the survivors elsewhere, they were carried by your clan, on your ships!

Aliyah let out a hiss, blue flames billowing around her fists. “You are talking about children, you old monster! They are outside your reach, we saw through to that. As is our duty, as people of fire and water, loyalty and family. And their mothers go with them, helpless without those to teach them how to fight.”

“Women and children,” I shuddered as I could feel the thin smile under the mask, and his ranks closed behind him, and he forced the young dragoness to turn away. “Your clan is in my way, Aliyah. Now bow.”

“No… no, she can’t have lied. We don't lie, we don't…” Dinah was murmuring to herself, quivering, and I placed a hand on her back. She flinched, claws radiating out but not to strike.

Aliyah scowled. “Never, not to you. Not while I am still drawing breath.” She swept her gaze across the weeping children, shivering tiny hatchlings watching everything they love burn.

“That can be arranged.” I looked up—

I jammed myself into Dinah, scrambling back in terror. Even the dragoness let out a pathetic whine. God that horrible, empty, soul-stealing stare, those eyes of death.

The Pale King… was a nightmare.

The fight began abruptly, with no further words, just stares that would be burned into my dreams.

I couldn't breath as the two witches leapt at each other like wild animals. Aliyah fought like a viper and a wave, fire moved like water under her grasp, the air seared by her power. She controlled the elements, all with a touch of fire to them.

Water boiled into steam, forming into limbs of burning mist, earth caught on fire, glowing molten under her feet and launched like spears. Air was superheated until it glowed red and expanded, exploding into the other witches with brutal results.

The Pale King launched a spear of sun, golden light refined into a weapon of death. He struck with punches and kicks, and swept away attacks with an ornate staff of crystalline bone. He chopped his hand, and dozens of spears emerged into reality.

Aliyah gripped her own weapon, two of them in fact, paired dao sword twisting and projecting her power. They turned dark with strange shadows, omens given shape, and swelled through the connections between her and the soldiers.

One tore out his own eyes, as madness swept him by, another doubled over with sickness, and a spike of fire-ice stabbed through her chest and exploded her into chunks of boiling flesh.

I felt bile rise up in my throat.

Aliyah let out a war cry, which burst out like a sonic wave that seared with a solar flare… which became a corona around an eclipse.

The Pale King laughed. An ugly, terrible laugh. The young dragon behind him looked away.

A sweeping kick was all it took, as the Pale King sang a dirge that forced the spirit to kneel. He stabbed it clean through, spirit corpus shuddering apart into component spirits. Aliyah’s face was heartbreaking, full of betrayal, disbelief, and horror.

He snapped his fingers and chains wrapped around the children, and Aliyah clapped her hands, tearing open a portal for several younger children to escape into.

She didn't get to escape, and those who did were so small. They couldn't have been more than three to six years old.

“They will be an excellent example for those who defy the will of Calafia, starting with the youngest.” Not even the children were the words I read with growing horror. He stalked towards the chained children and lifted his staff. Aliyah was screaming, and I couldn't look away.

There was a howl, a buzzing screech tearing apart reality.

Holy light burned through flesh and bone and people with terrifying ease, and I saw how the spirit threw itself to try to block what it could. The children screamed for help.

But nobody came.

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The first thing I did upon waking up, was to toss my lunch on the ground, Althea holding back my hair as I heaved. My body was aching as my stomach swam with nausea.

I could feel the trails of salt down my face, and I let out a wet sob. Oh god, I can still see them, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop—

“Celia!” I could hear Althea, and felt how her hands rubbed at my back. Grounding me, keeping me from disassociating further.

I clenched my fist, and flicked my wrist to summon a stream of water, washing off the vomit on my lips. I ached.

I turned around, and collapsed like a house of cards onto a shocked Althea. She was warm and there, and alive, alive, alive.

Dinah was perched on the ground, refusing to meet my eyes. Shaking visibly as she watched the nameless spirit disincorporate.

“I want to go home.” I mumbled into my friend’s chest, and felt weak.

“I'll… call Ultima to pick you up.”

…

“Thank you.”