I emerged back into the human dimension, careful not to cause too much of a spatial disturbance. Looking around I appeared to be in a base of sorts. In front of me stood two men in crimson robes wielding halberds, they were facing away from me and appeared to be guarding the entrance of the room I was in. The hallway they were facing was a decent size, large enough for four men to walk down it comfortably shoulder to shoulder, with walls lit up uniformly by lines of torches.

Turning I began to examine the room I was in, it was large, massive even, at least much bigger than it should be. Velvet carpet covered the floor and massive marble pillars lined the edges. The ceiling was almost twenty feet tall and covered by let’s say... unique art, though I do say I like it. An Immaculate statue stood proudly in the center, depicting a brave hero falling in front of a twelve human-headed hydra.

Except for the ceiling art and statue, everything else was much too gaudy for my taste. After admiring the statue a little bit longer I turned back to the entrance and focused my senses. Immediately I caught signs of the owl and others who I assume are accomplices. I also sensed a heavy amount of earth and stone surrounding the room so, wherever I was, it was likely to be underground. My smile grew, it doesn’t matter where I am, all that currently matters is making that witch pay.

I slowly began approaching the guards while damping all sounds, as soon as one of them was at arm's length I reached out and sunk my claws into his back. He tried to scream but no sound came out, he then tried to bang on the wall with his halberd but no sound was produced. My smile grew as I watched his futile efforts, but I have things to do. I tightened my grip and grabbed his spine, with a solid yank he was sent flying back. He slowly came to a stop in front of me as I looked at the vertebrae in my hand, I must have put in a bit too much power behind that. I tossed the vertebrae aside and crushed the man's head underfoot.

I bent down and inspected the corpse, only to find that it only had the clothes on its back and a few weapons. Slightly annoyed by this development I grabbed the man's halberd and approached the remaining sentry. With one swing the man was vertically bisected causing a small fountain of blood. Once that was finished I bent down and started to feast, careful to save the eyes, hair, and heart, after a few minutes I had devoured everything.

After my meal I ventured down the long hall in front of me, I took this opportunity to study the energies in the air, there were many of the normal threads of energy but there was also an abundance of artificial ones as well, many of them could only be attained from not so pleasant rituals. I also found something peculiar about the owl I was tracking, her threads were a complete mess, instead of being properly braided they were loose and frizzled with knots everywhere. Any self-respecting witch would never allow their magic to fall to such a state, unless... they were a novice at the art.

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A series of questions quickly entered my mind, Women faced owls are usually aged and powerful witches with years of experience under their belt, so how could one be so amateurish at magic? At first, when I met her in the forest I thought she was just the big kid on the block that didn’t want to give up her position. I didn’t think much of it at the time but any woman-faced owl would have known not to screw with my kind, how strange. During my pondering a memory suddenly struck me, a forbidden art long thought lost. During the killing fields many sought to boost their forces, but powerful beings needed time to grow and once they were sufficiently powerful they usually become hard to control, but even then they usually fell within the first day of battle. To fix this problem the coven of the crooked wand developed the art of skin-bound books.

A unique method, it required the skin of a dead creature with their prior consent. The skin needed to be bound to a book of magic and then placed into a cauldron for a day. Once that was done the book could be given to anyone and it would compel the owner to complete a unique ritual that would turn them into a similar creature as the skin's original owner. A method that easily made the coven of the crooked wand a small powerhouse during the killing fields. This method would explain the owl's powerful capabilities, for example, spirit jumping, and also the lack of magical control.

How did the owl get her talons on such a forgotten method, including me there are only a few beings left that even remember the coven of the crooked wand. My interest was peaked and the hunger started to grow, in my excitement I accidentally extinguished the torches, causing the hall to be dropped into an inky darkness. A wind began to pick up around me, now I was sufficiently excited. I retrieved one of the sentry's eyes and began to infuse threads into it, after a second the eye began to decay. I closed my eyes and a vision of a beautiful woman running out of the room in a panic appeared within my head. She seemed to realize I was a threat but from her lack of preparation, she didn’t realize I could follow her, a mistake that will cost her life. Soon the vision vanished and the eye on my hand turned into a blackish liquid. An ignorant witch that screwed with something she didn’t understand, how cliché.