Isemberd’s home felt vast and dark. Windows were half opened and bumping constantly due to the wind. The echoing laughter of the spirit had disappeared, and in its place were now the beast-like sounds of animals. As if a whole forest were inside, ready to pounce on them.
Alard had his sword in his hands with his guard properly held up, ready for a fight. Isemberd walked in front of him. Both of them went in through the back door into the space the mage rarely used, a small storage room where he kept food and other things. The floor was dirty and covered in dead leaves and mud, which caused the mage to stop and look at his surroundings, checking the roof as well as the walls before continuing.
“Berd” the knight whispered. The little whisper he made being almost completely muffled by the sound of the windows slamming themselves. “Upstairs?” questioned Alard.
The mage nodded. He then felt something weird in the back of his head. He knew very well the rules of a possession made through the Spirit Constellation. Not only that, but he was bitter about it, but upon reflecting on what he had noticed, all the rules were properly accomplished by the evil being that was haunting with him.
The kitchen’s window opened abruptly and in between a blink of an eye and another, someone appeared leaning over a chair on the other side of the table. It was blocking their path to the front door of the house.
“Well, well, if it isn’t two scared little mice!” Erika mocked, as they saw her red eye glowing in the dark due to the windows slamming shut every moment. Her voice sounded odd, with a second growling sound over it. “And coming home from the back door! Were you looking for me?” Erika asked.
Isemberd’s throat was dry, and he had goosebumps all over his body.
“Spirit!” Alard spoke, loud and firmly. “I’ll give you one opportunity to give up protégée so we can end this tantrum of yours peacefully!”
Erika burst in laugh, hitting the table with her fist a few times.
“Hello!? I knew you were a little dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb!” She stopped laughing and left a sword she carried with her on the table. “You and how many mages, sir knight? That shaky and scared four-eyes by your side?”
The haunting spirit laughed.
“He is a coward, and we know each other very well at this point.” The mocking demeanor shifted slowly towards a more angry and serious one. “You know that me being here, using this woman’s body, is your fault, right boy? You let her get too close, didn’t pay the proper attention and then when you realized…”
She grinned.
“So? Are you going to try an exorcism like last time? I hope you’re very well-prepared this time, because I’m not going out without a fight.” Her fingers closed around the blade’s handle. “Oh, right! There is no Spirit Master with you this time! How is your friend with the pretty hair going? Is his hand still crippled?”
Isemberd blinked.
The instant was so short that his only reaction after seeing the sparks flying were taking a surprised and scared step back. The possessed fighter jumped over the table and tried to strike his face with the sword. The strike came in so sudden and fast it would have killed the mage right there, if not for the knight's intervention.
Alard backed out a bit as he felt something wrong, his intuition was sharp since his childhood, as it was hammered into his body and polished during the battlefield. Isemberd felt another presence among them, one that caused him to feel a little better. Invisible, cold yet gentle hands were now holding his shoulders.
“My knight…” he heard, in between the second loud noise of the blades trading blows.
Erika jumped back, growling like a giant cat, and then rushed forward again, but the knight was now ready and moved forward to block her. He defended one and then two consecutively strikes, sparks flying from the clash of their blades. She tried a faint from the side, he didn’t buy it, evading the obvious cut that came after it before taking a step back, creating some space between them.
The possessed mage-hunter took a step back too.
“Well, once again some fool save your neck from my claws, little boy!” The haunting spirit mumbled, moving a little more back as it kicked a chair out of its way. The furniture got violently destroyed when it hit the wall. “Are you going to take credit for that too? Are you going to tell everyone you saved the endangered lady from the monster?” The spirit taunted.
Isemberd breathed in. His hands moved as he exhaled and the sword got yanked from Erika’s hands towards his. He could feel the spiritual realm influence stronger, probably the result of a mighty and forbidden spell to empower spirits.
“Alard” He said, giving the weapon to his friend, that sheathed it. “Do not reply to anything it says. And be careful to not hurt her, Erika must be feeling and seeing everything…”
“She certainly is, little boy!” the spirit said, pushing the table aside. “It is a shame you can’t hear her crying. She’s a very strong-willed lady, but still…”
Isemberd left out a big burst of visible purple energy. Both spirits present were hit with a strong wave of pure anger, so strong it made them step back for a moment. Even Alard felt something strange he could never explain. The mage stopped the knight’s movement forward with his staff, that now had purple veins glowing all over it.
“Be very careful where you step.” Isemberd said, pushing something under the table with his staff that caused a loud and short hiss. “There are magic traps around. I’ll need to find a small pouch like this one.” He explained, showing the knight the same little leather bag they found at Erika’s room.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
In the attic… he heard the lady of the forest whispering to him. The haunting spirit’s expression turned into a grimace of anger and it let out an unnatural growl.
“Smart little bastard. How are you so sure is hidden here?”
“Upstairs?” The mage retorted. “Probably in my attic. As if…”
The evil spirit roared like a very angry lion. Glasses exploded in pieces, wooden furniture got pushed away and got destroyed, the floor cracked. Isemberd moved in front of Alard, his hand raised in the Matter sign, creating a bubble of safety where things got pushed away from them. When the pandemonium of magic ended, Erika had disappeared.
“Berd, she is absurdly strong and quick on her feet. We need to be very careful.”
The mage lowered his hands.
“Let’s move up together. Careful with the traps.” he took a look to all the destruction caused inside his kitchen, without being able to process the feeling he was having now. “Do everything possible to not let her touch you.”
Alard nodded.
“Any nightmarish reason for it? I want to get ready in case it goes wrong.”
The lady of the forest spoke, her voice clear to the mage’s ears:
“Do not worry, my knight. I will protect him from the corrupter.”
The mage then did not reply to his friend’s question nor the benevolent spirit that was his ally, and started walking to his office. Isemberd stopped near the door and checked inside, before forming a sign that lit up his staff with a gentle white energy.
He closed the door with magic and the front door and the windows did the same, but the damage made a few pieces of glass and wood fall to the floor with an annoying sound. The two men then got ready to start moving up the stairs.
Near the very last step, the mage stopped. Looking up, he saw a symbol that resembled a tree, hastily drawn with mud. He levitated up towards it and scratched it with his staff. Landing on the corridor with the rooms of his home, he sighed. Everything seemed darker than normal and the floor was covered with dead dark leaves and mud, the walls dirtied with moss with some other vegetations and scratched as if by the claws of a big beast.
Isemberd held his staff up with both hands, much like a sword prepared to take a blow. Golden strands of light waved around it and a big, powerful gust of wind pushed everything away, clearing the floor and revealing more of the magic symbols all around the hallway. Another wave of yellowish energy and most of them got smeared and undone.
“Impressive.” Alard mumbled.
“Not in the slightest.” Isemberd retorted. “He might still have some tricks prepared for us.”
They kept moving forward. Suddenly, all the doors opened by themselves. Alard raised his blade, ready to block a strike that never came. From all around the corridor, a laughter echoed, muffling all other sounds around them.
Isemberd leaned on the wall to peek into a room, then did the same on the other one. Waved his hand, locking them closed once again. He noticed something in the corner of his vision and turned right in time to see Erika’s face disappearing into a room, really close to the floor.
She was inside his bedroom, creeping on the floor to try to get them by surprise. The mage wouldn’t find it too weird if she also tried to pounce on them from the ceiling.
“Berd, I have an idea. Do we only need to find the small pouch and untie it?” Alard mumbled
“Yes. I will then exorcize the spirit from her eye, and that should tie him back to me.” Isemberd explained.
“Wait, can’t you just expel it away at once?” Alard questioned
“Is not that simple…”
“You COWARD!” The evil spirit interrupted their chat. “Go do your dirty work by yourself, you filthy sorcerer! Will you really let the mister knight touch my cursed things in your place?”
Gillibert’s roost were thrown like a spear towards them. Isemberd stopped it in the air and gently put it down. Erika was now standing there, with a serious and uncanny expression in her face, glaring at the mage.
“Tell him little boy!” It provoked, “Explain to him in that annoying smart tone you do why I’m not tied to your shoulders right now! And why I should!”
Alard lowered his sword, his grip relaxing a little.
“Grab the pouch. Untie it and open it.” He said.
“How cute! The little noble thinks he can pass by me!”
Isemberd started floating.
“On the attic.” He said. They were both ignoring the spirit. “There is a white bedsheet…”
“You pathetic little vermin! Do you really think that locking me away again will change anything? Do you think that it’ll make you feel better, old butcher?”
“Ignore him…” Alard tried to say, but his friend expression was worrisome. “Isemberd!”
“He is itching with a burning desire to just crush me despite the lady’s body.” the spirit said, laughing, slamming its hand against the wall. A few of the mud and claw markings disappeared. Suddenly, all the space started filling with a dense green fog. “During my time, mages like him had terrible nicknames and were the source of some really nasty rumors about us!”
The cloud condensed for a moment, before raising as if moved by a sinister will. Isemberd raised his hand to push the cloud away from them, but it was already too late. He felt his senses and limbs getting numb and his vision turning blurry.
“Utterly pathetic! Falling from child’s magic like that! Oh, right, you never played with living children your age! That must be why you would never expect things like this.”
In a blink of an eye, the haunting spirit’s opened hand slapped the mage’s face, pushing him against the wall with brutality. Isemberd gripped his staff and a little spark formed on its tip, where he would usually hand his lamp.
The little spark ignited the gas and a sudden fiery explosion turned the small corridor in a hellish vision for a brief moment. Isemberd protected Alard from the flames and felt his own skin starting to burn. He breathed in hot smoke and pure fire, filling his lungs with all of it. His eyes glowed golden, and all the fire and destruction were now raw power that he could use.
From the spiritual realm, the lady of the forest screamed worried:
“Isemberd!”
His reply came as furious as the flames he was threatening to unleash:
“I will wipe your forest and this city out of the map in flames if my friend dies by the hand of that monster! Take care of your part of our deal!”
The spirit that was his ally filled him with a sensation of security and he felt the time slowing down.
Another voice joined them, before she could reply:
“You little fool! This time, I will devour you and will not be just an illusion…”
The mage fell to the floor, and the possessed noble lady fell near him. Alard was already pushing through the attic. Isemberd felt his consciousness be ripped off his body and be pulled into another place, where the haunting spirit was hiding from him: the small pocket of spirit realm that existed inside Erika’s Morgan red eye.