Author's note
Motivation is fleeting, but when it strikes mid-chapter, stuff's going down. Today, I present to you, the new new experience of: Chapter and a half-sized chapter!
Also, this chapter is totally and most definitely extremely much about peace and tranquility and like quiet meditation and reflection on your inner self. Pretty 'Zen' if you ask me. Heh that was a pun, because I'm Zen-lith... See? ...No? Okay, I'll just get on with the chapter. Enjoy.
Word count
This chapter: 2985
Total: 29951
NaNoWriMo target for the 18th: 30000
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“It would seem you already have a team with you. We would like for you to undertake some... missions.” The witch said.
“Missions? Molly, can’t we just go in with all flames blazing?” Rosedriah asked.
“Against the entire church of light? Even with our combined forces, just taking down all the twelve paladins is going to be an overwhelming task… Well, just Emblema the warrior and Ansel the swift on their own would be a daunting task. No, we will use the typical strategies used when behind and in hiding… Strike true and fast... and run like death itself is clawing onto your tail.”
Rosedriah sighed. “Yeah, I knew that already… Things would just be so much simpler if we didn’t have to sneak around all the time.”
Molly shrugged. “A witch’s gotta do what a witch’s gotta do.”
“That again? You’ve been saying that since before I left the swamp.”
“Because It’s true” Molly said.
Mollys face went a bit more serious. “Okay, so… Normally you’d have to go through the long process of being observed, trained, a sidekick and all that before getting to the action, but I’ll pull a few strings - nobody can deny the skill of the grey witch, after all. I’ll have a friend from the area show you the ropes, just show up here tomorrow night.”
“Any good ideas to how we should spend the day?”
Molly smiled. “I dunno, take a stroll in town. The guys love that, they’re all after you… Well, with swords and pitchforks, but whatever… Oh, oh, I know! You can gather some ingredients, there’s a few cool ones nearby… Speaking of which, you still got the end bit of that imp’s horn? I’m working on this new potion...”
“Molly, you’re rambling again. I’m just not that into brewing, you know that.” Rosedriah said.
“Right… So about that horn?”
Rosedriah frowned lightly. “What does this potion do that’s so important?”
“You know, it’s really simple. The combination of an acidic environment artificially created from citrus and mana-infused heart of oak will, together with the horn remnants, extrude magical plasma, resulting in amplified incandescence, which I will refract around the consumer of the concoction using a crushed magically enhanced mirror suspended in time and place relative to the ingurgitated, by utilizing the time-contraption established during the summoning technique... This in turn will render the consumer of the mixture completely indiscernible to observers.”
“So… If you’re doing that… how do you plan on seeing anything?”
She gasped and froze up for a moment. “I’ll need to work on that, I need to talk to Circe about this.” Molly slowly walked away in a haze, talking to herself about all the methods she could possibly fix her little problem.
“She’s a weird one.” Flasor said.
“She’s one of the great witches, of course she is weird.” Cepath answered.
“One of the six witches? She didn’t seem like she’s eating baby souls for breakfast, though.” Aitken said.
“Ah, you sound like a human.” Cepath said. “This is why most witches are the way they are.”
Only now had Rosedriah started paying any attention, gazing at Cepath in expectation.
“What does he mean?” Aitken turned to Flasor.
Flasor scratched his neck “You know, you could ask him?”
Aitken lowered his voice. “But I don’t like that guy. He puts words in my mouth, and i can’t even dispute it.”
“Allow me to explain.” Cepath said a bit too cheery, while Aitken let his upper body hang down a little bit and sighed way too deep.
“So, witches are despised. Which means they have to at least act tough. This also means they have fairly little contact with people around them, excluding other cultists, of course.”
“So what are you talking about?” Rosedriah asked Cepath.
“Well, he won’t stop asking about you.” Cepath said with a light smile.
“That’s odd, he should talk about himself… Like how he is still here after an unsummoning.”
“No way, he is way too busy ranting about you” Cepath laughed a bit.
“You’re pulling my leg here, aren’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Cepath said.
Meanwhile, Aitken talked to Flasor. “You see? you see what I’m putting up with?”
Flasor pondered for a moment. “I don’t know, I think he is doing you a favour.”
“A favour? Gods forbid, what if she succumbed to his lame advanced on my behalf? Firstly, I’m still pissed about her nearly casting me to the void for eternity. Secondly, I haven’t even talked to her, nevermind the stupid things he claims I’m saying. Finally, I’m an imp.”
“Minor obstacles, nothing you couldn’t handle.” Cepath said over his shoulder. “Even you gotta admit, she’s pretty cute, right? Her long, straight, black hair, the pale skin and purple eyes together with the long black dress...”
“Keep your ears to yourself, Satyr.” Aitken said irritated.
Cepath grinned. “You didn’t deny it.”
“That’s just your twisted fantasy… Ah!” Aitken flinched. “I suddenly remember what they say about Satyrs!” Aitken’s eyes grew distant for a moment. “It’s said they’re the male version of nymphs, and they even have a permanent er-”
“Shhh!” Flasor held his hand in front of Aitken’s mouth. “Someone’s on the road.” He pointed over at the path leading out of town. “Ah no, maybe they went the other way? My bad.”
Aitken frowned. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing, I think they left.”
Aitken blinked a few times, in mild confusion, before looking at Cepath again.. “Anyway, just keep your wickedness away from me, okay?”
Cepath shrugged. “I’m just helping things along, it will have happen sooner or later anyway...”
“So what’re you talking about?” Rosedriah asked.
“He likes your dress.”
Rosedriah fiddled with her pendant, moving it between her fingers on the left hand. She tilted her head a little. “You’re mistranslating on purpose, aren’t you? Nobody talks like that to a witch.”
“Ask him” Cepath shrugged.
“Finally! Now I can get to clear this up.” Aitken said.
“That savage? I’m not sure…” Rosedriah said.
Cepath smiled. “You fail to realise, he attacked because he thought someone he held dear was in danger, he would do the same for you.”
Rosedriah looked away for a moment. “You really know what to say, Cepath… Even if it isn’t true.”
“Just ask him, he can nod for himself.”
Rosedriah turned towards Aitken. “A-”
“There they are! get down.” Flasor howled, as an arrow came blazing towards Rosedriah.
Aitken instinctively threw himself towards Rosedriah, and they both tumbled to the floor, with the arrow flying right over them.
Rosedriah frowned at Aitken. “If you hadn’t done that, I would have retaliated tenfold, now get off, we’ve got fighting to do.” She pushed Aitken, but perhaps a bit more gently than Aitken expected. He quickly sidestepped, and Rosedriah stood up.
Ah, she’s back to how I remember her.
“Stand!” A man howled as he himself stood up. He was clad in full white plate armour with silver borders.
An aura surrounded the man, and it suddenly felt like the very air around them was as thick as syrup.
“A paladin? How did he sneak up on us? Why is he here?” Cepath asked, in the human tongue.
The white armoured man drew a silver shield and a long blade, as reflective as a clear-polished mirror but with a guard looking like two silvery, spread angel wings. His completely white hair and wrinkled face witnessed of his age, and probably his combat experience as well.
“I am Daw the loyal, lowest order paladin of the church of light. One of the mighty twelve… But you should already know that, grey witch.”
With him, followed a squadron of at least five armed assailants, as well as a small horde of guards rushing towards the site from nearby.
“You were careless, loud and didn’t bother trying to conceal yourselves. You didn’t even hide on the way here, the guards spotted you from miles away - the unmistakable sight of several demons. You didn’t even move. Are you that confident? Or are you just stupid?” Daw said.
Rosedriah spoke up. “I’ve had an understanding with the church as of late. I don’t bother you, you don’t bother me. Why have you come?”
“I need information about the next black sabbath. I know you have this information. I can’t let this opportunity slip, regardless of your dealings with the church, witch.” He spat the last word out in disgust.
“The black sabbath? You think I’d tell you anything after the 21st sabbath? You think any witch would tell you anything about it?”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“Ah, yes. The 21st sabbath, a great victory for all that is good… On that note, have you ever bathed in holy water?”
Rosedriah stared at him in silence.
“They say, if your soul is corrupt, it’ll feel like getting burnt alive by lava... But you won’t die. You will have the chance to stand before the light itself, one last time. Confess your sins, and dodge eternity in damnation, granted you aid the church. Truly, the mercy of the light itself… Not many witches have resisted that. I doubt a young upstart like yourself could either, just barely two decades of age, right? You’d barely remember the 21st sabbath, yet I was there, in the thick of battle.”
“Are you going to talk me to death?” Rosedriah answered coldly, as her eyes narrowed in calm anger.
“Of course, forgive an old man's rambling, I wished to give you a chance to serve the light, for once in your life. Let ‘em have it!”
Tens of guardsmen threw transparent jars filled with a clear liquid towards the four.
Holy water?
“Get it out of the air!” Flasor howled in panic, as he lugged fireballs at two of the jars, stopping their momentum mid-air.
Cepath fired his bow at one, shattering it into a rain of holy water. “It’s no use!”
Stab.
Rosedriah bagan bleeding from her side.
a circular fiery explosion scorched the ground as all the jars were forcibly hurled backwards. The explosion continued out, and singed the ground around the guards.
“I see they didn’t exaggerate, you’ve got some skill, kid. Too bad you are a decade too early to challenge me.” Dew said.
“Kill the demons, capture the witch. For Ramiel!” Dew howled, as he charged towards the witch.
“Fireball me!” Aitken said, and Flasor rapidly complied with two fireballs.
He continued to hurl some of his own at a guard, who merely lifted his shield up high.
Aitken counter-charged the guard who had received the fireballs. As he ran, he heard the popping sound of needle-on-flesh repeatedly.
He glided under the legs of the guard, and jumped up on the other side, ramming both firebolts to the guards head. Two minor explosions, and the guard fell to the ground.
Aitken quickly grabbed the sword, and shield - both about the same height as himself.
Several guards stopped in the area, and went towards Aitken instead.
A tsunami of blue flames from the depths of Damnation swept over the paladin, who merely lifted his shield. An arc behind him was untouched by the flames.
“I’ll show you magic. Holy smite.” Dew the paladin’s sword glowed golden, and he swung it sideways, creating a resonance with the air. Like a golden shockwave, the holy light spread fast and with brutal force.
Rosedriah stabbed herself several more times, and grabbed her sword with her left hand. she cut the wave in two, and the energy scattered and did no harm.
“This won’t last, we have to act fast!” Cepath yelled, as he shot another arrow at a guard, who was about to cut Aitken.
The guard was struck and fell to the ground.
Aitken leapt into a guardsman’s knee, bottom of the shield first. The guardsman staggered backwards, and received a sword to the leather boot, followed by an upwards slash into the hole between the man and his armour from below.
Stab stab stab.
Rosedriah’s dress turned blood red, as the corpses of the fallen stood up once more, ready to fight their former allies.
The paladin charged forward, and Rosedriah blocked with her sword.
“That’s a nice blade…” He sent a powerful blow with his leg to her stomach - right where she had stabbed herself.
She winced in agony.
“Help her!” Aitken howled at Flasor and Cepath - both of which were busy in an outmanned melee with several guards.
He grit his teeth, he had to do this himself, Rosedriah was their ace in the sleeve, and she was losing decisively. Aitken slipped in between a guard's legs, and skewered him from the bottom as he passed through.
The paladin swung his sword at Rosedriah again, and she seemed to lose her momentum. She threw up her blade in defence, as she stabbed herself once more.
Dew smirked “Holy wrath!” A shockwave was shot at Rosedriah, who had to stab herself several more times to block it, and her already soaked dress started dripping blood to the ground, covering the green grass in the bright red blood, leaving a trail of blood whenever she moved and spreading the metallic smell in the air.
“I can do this all day” Dew taunted.
Their swords clashed with a metal-on-metal sound followed by the grinding of the metals against each other.
Aitken finally arrived at the Paladin, leaping at him shield-first.
The paladin raised his hand towards Aitken. “Hammer of justice!” A golden shockwave pushed Aitken, the air rippled as he flew towards a guard with incredible force. Aitken spun around, and slammed into a guard shield first, resulting in a snapping sound that echoed over the meadow, as the guard’s neck twisted into unnatural positions.
Most of Aitken’s inertia was absorbed by the guard.
Rosedriah sloppily stabbed herself several more times, as the corpse rose.
“You idiot! You’re wasting your blood!” Aitken howled, forgetting how she couldn’t understand him.
He darted at the paladin once more, as he saw Rosedriah staggering. Had she never really been in a tough fight before?
“Got ya!” Dew howled, as he charged up an even more powerful shockwave than those before. His hand started glowing, as the air felt even heavier than syrup - like walking through a pool of quicksand, every limb had to be forced more and more the closer it came to the shockwave. The adrenaline pumped and every single voice in Aikten’s head screamed for him to flee, yet his determination overcame this. Without the grey witch, he would stand little chance against a paladin - and this was the weakest of the lot, after all.
Aitken focused all his might on his hand, and a small fireball grew forth.
“Go!” He threw it with all his might towards Dew.
When the small fireball hit Dew, he glared at Aikten. Dew’s iris was glowing golden yellow, illuminating his face and helmet in a soft golden glow.
Aitken felt a chill down his spine, as the hand with the mighty holy burst of energy moved towards him. A feeling that can only be compared to a battleship pointing its main cannons at a simple soldier overcame Aitken - he dodge, or die. There were no other options.
Aitken noticed Flasor and Cepath getting overwhelmed by guards behind him. Even with the help of the undead warriors, they too, stood little chance in the face of the massive amount of guards. What was this Sabbath? Aitken didn’t know, and had no time to consider it.
“Dodge!” Aitken howled, before he skid across the dirt, trying to outmaneuver the paladin.
He flapped his wings with all his might, picking up extra momentum, towards the paladin.
I’ll get him, he can’t get me now. I’ll reach!
Dew smirked as he pointed his arm downwards, where Aitken would be momentarily. “Rel-” “Hellfire!” Rosedriah howled, as a thin wave of lava swept towards Dew. She staggered, barely standing up from the loss of blood.
Dew hesitated, and turned towards Rosedriah. “Rele-”
Aitken thundered into his leg, tipping him slightly.
“-ase!”
The shockwave blew a hole in the ground, narrowly dodging Aitken and Rosedriah.
Aitken swung around Dew, and leapt at him from behind.
Dew turned his head and smirked, as he pointed his sword backwards.
Aitken raised his shield, but the impact sent him spinning into Dew’s back. Dew followed up by sending the blade towards Aitken.
Splosh.
Aitken’s right shoulder and wing was skewered. He lifted his left arm in response. “Fire!” “Fire!”
A barrage of minor fireballs flew at Dew, each getting smaller and smaller. Dew responded with a smile. “You’re dead, Imp.”
Aitken looked over at Rosedriah, she already laid down on the ground, a few guards standing around her. Cepath and Flasor was at their wit’s end, surrounded by guards, struggling and bleeding profusely.
Dew lifted his sword above his head, and it slipped out of Aitken’s shoulder with a squishy sound. The pain spread in Aitken’s body.
Aitken sighed deeply. “This is it. I’m done.”
“Drink!” the voice of Molly reached his ears as a potion flew through the sky.
Dew looked at her in disbelief. “Molly the ritualist? Here? One of the great six witches?”
Aitken seized the moment Dew was interrupted and drank the mixture. It felt like someone had jammed holy water, lava, acid and the taste of vomit from a demon from the core of damnation - burning like swallowing a sun, but the taste of actual vomit. Aitken felt like screaming, and he opened his mouth.
A jet of flames not unlike a dragon’s breath scorched Dew, who staggered backwards.
“The cavalry has arrived” Molly said with a smile, as several guardsmen around Rosedriah collapsed from a shadow. “You attacked your target too early.” She said more cheerfully than what would fit the situation.
Dew grit his teeth. Two of the top ten witches was going to be tough, even if it was one at a time.
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So Zen! Had a nice and quiet time? Good, I'm popping a dose of plot, as I felt it was already stretching it thin, I need to finish within the next 12 days after all, if I'm to do the NaNoWriMo RoyalRoadl at least. (Well, it's not a requirement for the real NaNoWriMo to finish then and there, but still.)
Oh yeah! My google-Docs just rounded 100 pages. Neat!
Thanks for reading!