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Wicked Witch of Valentine
Chapter 20: Bugles Blare

Chapter 20: Bugles Blare

Mother Ora sat beside Priscilla's bedside with a thoughtful expression, the starlight shimmering off her glossy sand-stained eyes filled them with an ethereal haze. A knock came from outside as an elderly woman walked in, she held onto a lengthy wooden scepter that coiled at the top— using it as a walking stick to support her slowed steps as she walked up to the Matriarch.

''Hun Mata, Greetings Matriarch.'' the elderly woman said, crossing her left arm to her right eye.

''Hun Mata, Ebe.'' Mother Ora replied, repeating the same motion just with the opposite arm and eye.

''What do you think of her condition, Ebe?'' Mother asked with a tinge of curious concern.

''Haah, it's bad. Broken bones and her mind closed up to protect her.'' the elder said helplessly as she eyed the girl up and down, her old leathery fingers moving slowly along her limbs and torso.

''Can you help her?'' Mother Ora asked as she laid her hand softly on Priscilla's forehead.

''Haah, difficult. But yes— it will take some time. Why help the Imperial?'' the elder asked curiously.

''She's cute.'' Mother Ora said with a smile catching Elder Ebe off guard. The woman was unsure if she was joking or not, but it seemed inappropriate to ask.

''Haah, two weeks.'' the elder said as she knocked her staff on the floor rhythmically in several spots around Priscilla's bed.

''Good. Help her well, call for me if anything is needed.'' Mother Ora said, nodding approvingly with a smile as she stepped out of her chamber. She stepped lightly with her hands behind her back as she gazed into the sky towards the bright star that hung above. Her gaze lost in thought as she hummed a strange melody.

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''Come back...'' Priscilla muttered playfully as she reached her small hand out towards the cressel butterfly, it flapped its colorful wings softly as it dodged her finger, landing on her head jokingly before fluttering off again. The girl pouted as she couldn't catch it again, turning to her mother frustrated.

''Mommy, I still can't catch it!'' she uttered with a playful sadness as she stared bright-eyed at her mother.

''That is where its magic lies, my child.'' her mother whispered while patching up a torn dress. ''If one wishes to catch it, they must learn to let it go first. Only by letting go, can it attain the freedom it yearns for, and grant you the wish you yearn for.''

''But mommy, that's impossible!'' the child mumbled sadly.

''It's okay, my child.'' her mother reassured. ''It's possible— it just isn't time for you to catch it. Try again when you're big and strong.'' she giggled sweetly.

The woman walked up to the sad girl, lifting her up into her arms and cradling her. ''There there, child. Let's eat.''

''Mhm! Okay!'' she replied happily, forgetting all about the sadness.

They ate happily, enjoying a simple supper of meat and potato, with some freshly baked bread Priscilla's mother kneaded earlier in the day. They enjoyed it in each other's company, a sweet and precious moment of familial love...

''You can't do anything right, can you.'' Priscilla's mother sighed.

The girl turned to her in confusion, her spoon dropping to the floor as she saw her mother obscured by a dark shadow that overcast half her body, the visible half dried up like a husk, the corpse-like hollow gazing at her dejectedly.

''If only you weren't here, if only you died.'' she muttered; her teeth chattering out and falling into her bowl one after the other. She reached over the table grabbing the girl by her throat. ''Damned you'll be. Eternally.'' she uttered through her toothless half, throwing the girl across the room and slamming her into the wall.

Priscilla jolted— cradling her head violently, she shrieked with a heartrending pain that numbed the air around her.

''Worthless. Disgraceful. Pathetic.'' a man's voice broke through her shrieks, his voice akin to a nail hammered into her skull. She turned to see that tall and overbearing figure, his broad shoulders shrouding out the starlight, as he held her mother's severed head in his palm.

''Will you be useful finally, without this wretched rat?'' he asked— the frosted venom dripping from his tongue as he stepped towards the child.

''No...no...NO!'' she screamed, curling up. Tears flowed from her, a visceral flow that would survive to the ends of time.

Pain was an inescapable nightmare, a soul rending abomination that existed purely for one singular purpose. In that loop, one could only hope— never dream.

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Elder Ebe shuffled around the room, chanting and drumming the floor with her staff; the coiled tip glowed with golden intent as it layered over Priscilla's bruised and broken body. The woman repeated her steps carefully, gliding in a premeditated pattern, her intentions mapped out to the last. Sweat rolled down her leathery flesh as the glow intensified with each rotation she did. Her steps doubled, her movements graceful and swift despite her age, she flowed akin to a river, unstoppable and strong. The glow intensified until the light covered Priscilla in a thickened blanket of gold that shrouded her form beneath it. As it solidified the elder slowed down and sat down, exhaling a long turbid breath as she wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve.

Before she could even get her rest, the sound of thunderous drumming filled the setting sky with its harsh noise. Guards scurried along, forming up and moving along in practiced formations. The elder stared out of the window seeing the rising sand of horses heading into the city. Where the guards stood several men dismounted. ''Zahan, the Imperial's attack!'' they said almost unanimously.

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The faces of the others changed between shock and anger, those Imperial scum dared to cross the boundary? ''HAKANA MA WOI!'' one of the men adorned with golden chains around his wrists shouted, as the others thumped their chests in response. They gathered their horses and scimitars and rushed for the border. As they raced they found the blaring bugles resounding and hundreds of armored men assaulting their borders. Their people battled and died without stop as the Imperial's crushed them under the weight of their numbers.

Frenzied were the Imperial's, their legion rained devastation upon the ones they deemed barbarians, the people fought back, slicing and stabbing away. Yet the men were so resilient, for every one man they brought down, it would take two or even three of their own. Blood splashed the sand dying it a burnt crimson that gleamed in the shimmering embrace of the day's starlight. Sweat drenched their tanned bodies profusely as they fought. It was a battle for survival, for race, and for their culture that persisted for years. Soon too the tribe clenched their teeth with the provoked viciousness of a wild animal as they lashed out at the unfeeling Imperial's.

The Matriarch's steed rode in glamorously with its flowing white mane ruffling from the speed, she stormed in enchantingly with a light yet durable polesword that cut through the closest Imperial's head with its crescent blade tip. There were no words that needed to be spoken; and no excuses to be made. She attacked with a viciousness that belied her slender frame, the soldiers roared as they clashed with her, ruthlessly attempting to chop at her steed. But the woman was an experienced rider, she dodged through them with ease, utilizing the length of the weapon to sweep through the enemies confronting her.

''Imperial scum you don't belong here.'' she spoke with confidence as she slapped her weapon against their armored bodies with ferocity.

''It's you that does not belong barbarian dogs.'' the captain said with unmasked disgust.

''KILL THEM ALL!'' he roared as he waved his blade towards the tribesmen.

The soldiers rampaged with a palpable bloodlust as they threw themselves against the men on horseback.

More riders approached, following after Mother Ora, their valiant shouts embodying their people's faith. The numbers quickly balanced out, and surpassed the Imperial's legion, inspired by the fury fueled by the Empire's audacity the men and women of their tribe proved to be a force beyond this invading force's capabilities. They pushed them back time and time again, they killed who they could kill and injured who they could injure. The Legion backed up and retreated, a volley of arrows assaulting the borderline with flaming intensity. Quickly forming the tension into a standstill as both sides stared at one another.

A soldier walked out, his armor etched with the Imperial crest, his flowing red cape flashy in the starlit glow, he stared with a metallic glint through his helmet. His hollow voice echoed through it with a chill. ''You will surrender. You beasts tainted our land. Dirtied it with your presence. The Empire will no longer tolerate you, surrender while you can. Or else, you will die.''

''SURRENDER OR DIE!'' the others chanted with hoarse voices stifled by their helmets.

''You've gone too far.'' Mother Ora muttered with an icy chill. ''It was you who stole from our ancestors, you're worse than beasts wearing human flesh.''

''Our people will never surrender; nor will we let you come here and flaunt your disgusting hypocrisy.'' she brandished her polesword, aiming it at the man's face. ''Do you desire to die that much, for the sake of that thieving Emperor of yours?''

''Die? The ones to die will be you.'' he said through grinned teeth, hidden beneath his helm.

Mother Ora jumped at the challenge, launching herself off of her steed. She flicked her arm sending her crescent blade flying for the man's head. He lifted his arm, blocking it easily with his hand, an eerie chuckle escaping his lips as he threw her back forcefully. The woman scoffed, her long flowing gown swirling around her as she rebounded off the sand sending her hurling towards the man, she struck him in the shoulder before he could react causing him to flinch and step back. He slammed his fist towards her head but she ducked under and jumped, launching her knee into his head. His helmet fell off his head, revealing that inhumane husk, a malicious saw toothed grin and hollow empty eyes of rotted black.

''Hata Wanu.'' Mother Ora muttered as her eyes widened at the man's disformed figure. ''Creature of hell, you dare encroach on our lands?''

The man hissed with fury as his appearance unveiled, the starlit striking his hollowed flesh smoked with a toxic char that blackened the air around him. His torso contorted and bent, writhing painfully as cracks and creaks echoed; his body enlarging twice over as he slashed at the woman with his outstretched bony hand. The woman reacted catching it between the blade's crescent shape, pushing hard as it sliced at the wrist.

''Stop the creatures, this Empire is cursed. We must stop them where they stand!'' Mother Ora shouted at the tribesmen.

Soon a large battle broke out as all of the cursed man's troops assaulted the tribesmen, and they too retaliated violently against the creatures. Blood flew like the morning rise of awakening birds. Sand blinded all as it swept up in the confrontation, neither side wished to give in to the other, neither side could surrender. Death and violence was the only answer left for them.

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Priscilla found herself in a soothing embrace, her mother held her tightly as tears trickled down her weary weathered face. ''It's okay, my child. Don't fear the inevitable, not anymore. It's time. It's time for you to go.'' she rubbed the girl's cheeks softly, caressing them affectionately. ''They're waiting for you, my child. Are you going to let them down?''

''I let everyone down, I always do.'' the girl said dejectedly, curled up into herself as her mother held her.

''No child, you've let none down. You're only letting yourself down by hiding away.'' her mother replied gently, nuzzling the girl's head in her embrace. ''It's time to move past it. You must fight. You must go.''

The girl felt the burden clawing at her soul, she didn't want to go, she felt the touch of death singing a bitter melody in her mind, calling her back to its arms. Why should she struggle and suffer? There was nothing for her, what was she living for? The confusion slammed down on her body and mind. Was it her own expectations burdening her, or was it the fear of others having expectations of her? The subconscious of her mind was a broken down place, filled with strife and confusion. All her hopes and dreams seemed futile deep down, could she achieve anything, should she?

All these thoughts swirled, a tempest of pain that kept her locked up, but her mother's reassurance nudged her. Pushed her out of the bubble which she found herself in. Specks of gold illuminated the darkness of her mind, overflowing with exuberant vitality that flowed into the troubled cracks of her mind. Spring blossomed in her body with the fullest of force. Shining down on the darkness that trapped her. Her forehead glowed brightly as the specks of gold attached to it, stabilizing it and giving it a fortitude it previously lacked. Her body fluttered into the sky of her inner world, she felt the racing beat of her heart coursing with adrenaline. Her eyes closed into a deep trance acclimating to the feeling inside of her.

Back in Mother Ora's chamber the golden cocoon that wrapped her began to crack ever so slowly as her body thumped rhythmically, Priscilla felt the abandoned connection with the beyond thickening, fortifying into a thick strand that surged with power, her body's cracks healed rapidly; faster than one could even see, if she was in a position to be seen in the first place. Inside the golden shell fire burned, singing the darkness that enveloped her mind. Wind whirled around her limbs, lifting her up against the golden embrace that supported her.

Priscilla's mind cleared, she could see her mother fading away into a blurred dream of times long forgotten. As her eyes opened the wind and flame burst from her body shattering the cocoon and sending golden shards shattering through the chamber. She sat up with a hardened gaze that seemed colder than it was before. The confusion she once felt seemed distant and her focus restored. She found herself truly whole for the first time, coursing with power and a purpose that drew her heart into an angered state, drumming with the call of violence, ready and eager to be summoned into this world.