WBM
Chapter Four
Banished
~SV~
Half Moon Bay, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
Sidonia’s concern for the Lake Bled Ramblers, causes her dream-vision of what happened yesterday, the 28th. Xiko sees Grigori leaving, to find Kristopher; the foreboding comes stronger. Xiko calls to his leader, warning him, “Grigori. I sense that I should come with you, to face Kristopher.” The Lake Bled Rambler’s male leader, hesitates almost agreeing. Grigori then sighs, “No, I dare not bring you. I believe it is better to face him one on one.”
Explaining, Grigori tells Xiko, “He will not take kindly to a reprimand done in front of another. He is likely to feel we are attacking him, rather than only me, discussing it. It will be easier to talk sense into him, if I am alone.” Wirf scoffs, “I doubt it.” Xiko tries to imagine having to confront one of their clansmen, he cringes at the idea. It seems uncomfortable, so he accepts that is why his gut is in a twist, especially when Kristopher has a rogue reputation.
Krist is known for being overly difficult to deal with. Xiko looks to Wirf, thinking much of it is between those two. Perhaps he is a bit jaded because of knowing Wirf’s side of their arguments, and naturally Xiko agrees with his best friend. He decides Grigori is right; it would be wrong to reprimand Kristopher with another clansman present. Krist would act as if it were a confrontation rather than a conversation. Still, Xiko does not envy Grigori’s task.
~*~
Dark Elf Desert Castle, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
During a break, the darkly attractive Haldir takes extra care to look his best. His hair is a combination of the other two Dark Elf styles, the sides are shaved, and the top is braided. As his wife moves to get out of bed, he tucks her back in, attempting to leave her behind so he can go in search of Queen Vanna. King Haldir says in an overly sickly-sweet voice, “I do not want you to join us tonight. You appear weaker; I think it is putting an undue strain on you.”
His wife is over a hundred years older than he is; Ninna says, “I must support you and Alnesa.” Haldir assures her, “It is too much for you to endure. Trust me to get our revenge. I will come to you when we have our next break and promise to tell you the highlights. Then you can advise me on your thoughts and opinions. I also need to speak to them with venom. I held back to not frighten you.” Nodding, Ninna agrees, “I see, well I am, overly tired.”
Reluctantly she admits, “It has weakened me greatly. You are right, this is best. Give Alnesa my love.” The Dark Elf King rushes off to have a word with the Light Elf, Queen Vanna.
~*~
Kolo’s Craftroom, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
Darciana suspects, gasping to Nepathi, “Are you about to cut your foot off? I advise against it! Removing your foot is too drastic. If you survive, you will not be able to walk. If you bleed out, he will wake before you.” Samala defends it, “You will not do it, if in her place? There is nothing I will not do to be free of him.” Darciana quips, “Including, betraying Sidonia!” Samala scoffs. Mumbling, Sitting on the floor, Nepathi has the knife against her leg, debating it.
Nepathi tries to distract herself, as she muses, “I wonder whose Grave Dirt it was.” Samala mocks, “Like it matters, if it only delays Lola.” Ignoring her, Nepathi adds, “If I asked Kolo whose dirt it was, he would have understood it needs to be Lola’s.” Darciana laughs, “I am not so sure, he is lacking some of his quickness since his death, against Blackstone Castle’s Barrier.” Nepathi has the knife above her ankle, and below her shackle, as she starts cutting.
Samala questions, “I do not recall that the barrier over Blackstone Castle is capable of killing anyone, I do not even know who placed it there, do you?” The Rambler replies with respect, “To cover that large of an area and be powerful enough to kill Kolo; I assume it is a close descendant of one of the Seven Storm Sisters, or one of the seven.” Nepathi says, “I wish it removed Kolo’s head.” Darciana says, “I guess no one was killed before my capture.”
She adds, “As I never heard of it either, until now.” The Egyptian tries to distract herself, saying, “I hope the grave dirt Kolo gave me, is his as I used it to poison him.” Nepathi starts cutting into her leg the blood is spilling out. The Rambler debates this, “Oh, I would have suggested you leave it out. Unless, you worded the spell to confine Kolo to his Grave Dirt. Or use it in another sort of binding.” Nepathi groans. The other two are unable to see her.
Darciana adds, “I am almost certain, if it is his own Grave Dirt, it is more likely to protect him!” Nepathi holds her leg wound to slow the bleeding, as she asks, “It will save him from the poisoning? I always use grave dirt as a dark power item; it is what I was told it is best for.” Nepathi endures the pain, as she cuts again, going into her muscle. Yet she feels weak at the sight and worries she might faint before she can get free.
The Rambler clarifies, “Yes, Graveyard Dirt can help the potion to be deadly, when used on humans. However, vampires use their Grave Dirt to heal. Mum used it in this spell to speed the process of gathering the Shade back to his own grave, and it is why it needs to be Lola’s Grave Dirt, to help collect and send her there so she can be whole.” Samala listens, attempting to hide her interest. Nepathi says in desperation, “I am nearly done cutting off my foot.”
The Egyptian starts to wretch, as Darciana gasps, “You will bleed out, start your burner first, hopefully you will not faint.”
~*~
Witch Island, Leslie’s Cottage, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
Reba’s dream-vision of an event three months prior. The young Witch is angry she has to work, and looks up from clearing a table off. Stunned, Reba sees after nine months, her foe has returned. Viciously, Reba shouts, “Leave! You are not welcome here!” Grekan gasps at the rude greeting; Sidonia turns raising an eyebrow at her former classmate. Calmly, she replies, “I believe Poppy will disagree.” Patch asks her, “Is there somewhere else you rather go?”
The Dark Princess sighs, “Tik will return to us here. Reba wants to vent and it might help her move on.” Andre scoffs, at the brown-haired girl, “Have respect, you are speaking to our Princess-.” Reba cut him off, “She let me die!” Furious, Grekan snorts, “You are alive enough to be bad-mannered!” Sidonia says, “I see your guilt is not appeased. Say all you need, to end it.” Reba huffs, “I am not to blame, you are!” Patch gasps, “You sure act like you are guilty!”
Andre smirks, “Of more than bad behavior and disrespect.” Reba taunts, “You should be remorseful or act with some guilt, and apologize for betraying your best friend!” Sidonia replies, “I have no reason for guilt or remorse. I did nothing to harm you. And I recall, you failed to act like any friend.” Reba gasps, “I was your closest friend!” Grekan sneers, “You are acting like her enemy.” The dark girl’s green eyes pierce Reba’s brown ones, “Does a friend kill my plants, and foul my potions, hoping to cause me to fail my courses?”
Reba’s eyes dart away, as her face goes red. Sidonia smirks, “Yes, I knew it was you, and cannot help but feel you blame me for your misfortune, just to ease your guilt over your traitorous acts.” Reba spits, “So, that is why you deliberately failed to warn me! You let me die, because of a few dead plants?” The Princess corrects her, “Why would I think, I needed to warn you? Or even seek a vision to determine the outcome of your own attempt at one?” Reba gasps.
The Princess adds, “Our instructors warned you and were ready to do visions, to see the outcome and make certain you would be safe. You failed to wait.” Almost in tears, Reba whines, “But, you had visions before! You knew it was my first time and it could be dangerous to seek the reason of someone’s death!” The dark girl counters, “You were not listening to me nor the teachers. Take responsibility for not heeding Jane’s and our instructors’ warnings.”
Sidonia adds, “It was their responsibility to keep you from harm, not mine. I was not given a premonition of it, so I had no idea it would happen and I am not in debt to you.” Going pale, Reba insists, “You could at least apologize to me.” Andre, Patch, and Grekan all scoff. Sidonia says, “While I have guilt for things I did cause, this is not one of them. I did offer you comfort and was dismayed at your death experience; you refused my attempts to c-.”
Reba cut in, “You are guilty!” The Dark Princess states, “I will not have guilt nor apologize for something I did not do. I am not responsible for you. I do not deserve remorse, for you choosing not to listen to Jane and our instructors.” Reba grabs a bowl tossing it at the Princess. Suddenly, the bowl stops in midair, and a cold toned female’s voice in the doorway to the backroom, says, “In fact, from what I heard, it seems that Justice’s Scales were balanced Reba.”
Poppy, the owner of the Poison Potion Pub had stopped the bowl, saying, “It was your bad behavior Reba that gave you the grim consequences you earned. Go home Reba; you are no longer welcome to work here.” Bursting into tears, Reba runs from the pub. Reba wakes from her dream-vision, vowing, “I will curse Sidonia!”
~*~
Warlock Camp, Witch-Fights, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
The Ringmaster climbs a ladder, to stand on his platform; he whistles loudly, getting the crowd to settle. As all hush, the Fight Master yells, “Finally, all fighters have arrived. Every first night of the full moon, we have three fights planned, for your entertainment.”
Everyone cheers, a loud whistle sounds again. Rorik sees the Ringmaster is blowing into a strange, small horn. As all become silent, he says, “First, we have one foolish enough to try his hand.”
He adds, “He is a newcomer to our ring, and will challenge the Goth’s fighter, Crimson! For those who are new, the volunteer shall wear this green sash around his waist.” The Ringmaster holds it up, “As usual, Crimson will wear red.” The crowd cheers and chants, “Crimson, Crimson, Crimson!” The Ringmaster grabs another sash, “The Necromancer Rot shall wear this blue sash, and the Warlock Fury, shall wear this orange sash. Some chant, “Rot, Rot, Rot!”
While most roar, “Fury, Fury, Fury!” The Ringmaster says, “This should help those not familiar with our fighters, to keep a visual on whom you placed a bet, and be able to track your fighter throughout the matches.” He adds, “I will tell you of our volunteer’s history.” The Ringmaster hands the sash to the younger male witch, as he calls out, “This is a double rarity; he is royalty and a Rambler, we have Prince Rorik Tricker! He shall be in our first fight.”
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The Hexing Hag is so stunned by this announcement, that Jacque stops her transaction. The crowd roars, the Ringmaster adds, “And is going up against the Goth, Crimson!” Many gasp, in surprise. Jacque’s client frowns at her, as the Witch looks to the fight ring in disbelief. The Hag shakes her head and scoffs aloud, “Wat a Prince of stupidity! Me bring him ta te Warlock Camp, allowin’ him ta relax and he wants ta get himself killed? At least me got me day’s worth of use out of te Precious Prince before he dies.”
Her client laughs loudly, as Jacque hands him the Spirit Jar, along with the Grave Dirt and Coffin Nails. Taking the coin, she asks, “Have ya used a Jar before?” The Witch nods, “I bought one from you a few years ago.” Jacque grins, “So, ya are familiar and know how well it works! Any questions? Or do you need me ta walk you through the spell again?” Her client says, “No, thank you. I still have it written down, and I used it recently enough to recall it.”
He starts to leave, then turns asking, “Say, is the Prince a good fighter, should I bet on him?” The Hag laughs, “Judging his abilities in me bed, me am bettin’ on him losin’ his match.” Her Warlock client chuckles darkly and leaves.
~*~
The Egyptian grabs the burner, putting it on the floor she starts it, saying, “Yes, I did not think of that, I am trying to hold it to stop the bleeding, so I can remove his head. I hope I heal fast.” Samala says, “You also better hope that Lola does not get here before you take his head, or it will be for nothing!” Nepathi holds the burner to her flesh, with a scream. There is a long silence and Darciana fears she has passed out, “Nepathi?”
They hear no movement and the Rambler shouts, “Nepathi are you alive?” As the cousins hear groaning, they sigh with relief. Darciana asks, “How bad was it?” The Egyptian scoffs, “Worse than most, but not all of his ways of murdering us.” The Rambler admits, “I have nightmares about Kolo burning me.” Exposing the bone, Nepathi rests as she replies to Darciana, “Necromancers often use Grave Dirt against others.” Thinking, Darciana agrees, “True.”
She adds, “I guess that many of their dark magic spells, can use Graveyard Dirt if they are seeking to kill their victim. However, that is likely against another witch or human. The only spells I have seen that use Grave Dirt, are against ghosts. I have heard of using it against a vampire. I recall that they said it was Cursed Grave Dirt. And switched it with a vampire’s own hoping to weaken them.” Samala taunts, “Too bad you did not do that to Kolo’s dirt.”
Darciana mocks, “If we get free, there is no need to look for where Kolo sleeps, or figure out how to curse his dirt or switch it. Kolo will not be seeking his grave to heal; we will have already removed his vile head!” Nepathi groans as she tries to saw on her leg bone, and nearly passes out. Resting she moans, “I tried.” Darciana seethes, “I hope it is not his dirt. I really want him dead and gone forever. Tell me of the Hex you did on Kolo’s blood.”
Nepathi weakly says, “I did a rune in his blood on the bowl, it fulfilled Donatello’s Death Wish and curse on him.” Darciana grins, “Nice.” Samala frowns, “Who is he and what was it?” The Rambler tells her, “He was Sidonia’s guard; as Kolo burned him, he cursed Kolo to suffer with the deaths he caused others. So as Nepathi spelled her rune, using it to Hex him, it caused Kolo to see and feel the death he gave Donatello, which is why he thought he was here.”
The Egyptian tries to keep herself alert, as she huffs, “I might as well confess that while Kolo was with me, I found a spell to bring out all hidden potential of his powers within his blood. After that he could change his image, and then had fire.” Samala hisses, “It figures that it was you, who made him this strong.” Darciana scolds, “I am sure she regrets it; and she did not give him the powers.”
Nepathi sees the knife is too dull to quickly cut the bone, as she says, “He might have gained those powers by now anyway. I only gave it to him sooner.” Darciana recalls all she suffered at Kolo’s hands, saying, “If I get the chance, I will cut out his heart and eat it.” Getting a nauseated expression, Samala gasps, “Ewww.”
~*~
The Master of the Fights yells, “The Prince has won many bareknuckle fights in several Rambler Camps. The Ramblers are also renowned for their Hexes! He challenges our Goth fighter. This first fight is a no magic, no weapons match, just a fist fight.” A few of the spectators’ clap, the Ringmaster says, “The Goth Crimson-.” The crowd roars. He continues, “- is a returning champion; he has won five of his nine fights this year!” The Goths cheer loudly.
The Fight Master adds, “Goths are known for their Blood Magic.” The winner goes on to the third fight. In our second match, we have the Necromancer Rot; he has won six of his nine fights. Four against Crimson; two against Fury!” He waits as the crowd roars, then finishes, “Fury, our Warlock, is the reigning champion!” There are more loud shouts and screams. The Necromancers are the loudest, he blows his small horn until he has quieted them.
The Ringmaster says, “All will be a promising match. The Necromancer, Rot, is going against Fury, the Warlocks’ champion.” The crowd cheers. He adds, “In a bare-knuckle fight-.” The Warlock clans’ cheers break in and he let them go for a bit longer, then he finally whistles to quiet them. He finishes, “-with the enhancement of Shades.” This brings a louder roar from the whole crowd. When it goes too long, he whistles, As for the bonus third fight-.”
The Ringmaster waits for effect, “We will have the winners of match one and two; face off against each other.” Rorik is not listening, as his head is a blur, from exhaustion and unfamiliar drink. The Master of the Fights adds, “In the final challenge of the night, it is a bring your ‘shade and magic’, yet no death magic is allowed. Also, no weapons. A reminder no outside help will be tolerated in any of the matches. The boundary prevents magic from entering.”
He warns, “It will also put down anyone who attempts to go in. Now, Fighters to the ring! Everyone, finish your bets! Good Luck to all!” The crowd roars with excitement and the Prince’s head is light, keeping him from caring about his mum’s needs. As the Prince ties the green sash, around his waist he goes toward the ring. Rorik gets his first rush of nerves. The Prince feels ill as he sees the white and red painted Goth, Crimson, with his red sash, come into the ring.
~*~
Waking after noon on the 28th, Krist is hungry. He leaves the crypt, coming up the steps, he looks up, Krist nearly falls backwards. His clan leader, Grigori, stands above the stairs looking down at him with disapproval. His glare and silence are worse than if he were yelling at Krist. Grigori finally says, “I want to assume you were just sleeping, not laying with Leticia, the Lord’s wife.” Thinking he is much smarter than his clan, he is surprised Grigori figured him out.
Krist is disappointed to be facing him. Grigori adds, “You are supposed to be in the field minding the flocks and herds.” Getting a sly smile, Kristopher smirks, “So what if I was, old man? The boys can handle the sheep.” Grigori states firmly, “You are to handle the wolves if they come. I will give you one last chance; if you promise to never see Lady Leticia again.” Kristopher’s face goes red, as his leader finishes, “Otherwise we will mark and banish you.”
Grigori adds, “You will not be allowed in our clan and cauldron.” Kristopher feels the blood drain from him; he is now ill and shaking, as he gasps, “You cannot be serious?” Coldly, Grigori states, “That is the whole problem. You think of no one but yourself. Have you also forgotten last year when the men came from town? They were looking for you!” Krist smirks, “That was nothing, only a simple disagreement.” Sternly Grigori says, “They threatened us.”
His leader adds, “They banned us from their town too, because you were intimate with their wives! And hid instead of facing them; I warned you then. If Nicolas finds out, I fear it will be bad for the clan, and deadly for you.” Krist scoffs, “Can you even name the last time you saw Nicolas? And, whether I leave or not is up to Leticia, not you old man!” Grigori states, “You do not know him as well as I do.” Krist worries he is right, as he does not know Nicolas at all. He only counts on him never coming back.
~*~
Burial Ground, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
Slowly the color that Lola earned, a dark murky navy shade, flickers like a small pebble in a gray form. She has no conscious thought nor understanding of her existence. In the ground, among the bones, the small slight glow within her is hidden from the only one who cares. It causes others who share her space, to notice, they are surprised and delighted to find she is here and weak. Their cruel whispers begin, finding it satisfying to taunt her.
~*~
Nepathi goes back to sawing her leg and curses, “Nifl, it will take me forever to cut through the bone, the crappy knife is too dull! My tissue is starting to heal, so I keep having to recut it, as well.” Coldly, the Mad Queen suggests, “Then, you need to break your leg bone, near your cuff so you can slip it off.” Nepathi gasps, “How? My hands and arms are not yet strong enough to break it.” Samala scolds, “Stand up, and stomp on it, with your other foot.”
The Egyptian stands grabbing the back of the chair. She shakes her head, “I cannot stand, while stomping on it; I will fall.” Sitting she holds the arms of her heavy chair, as she angles her leg to get ready to stomp on it. All three hold their breath. In the tense silence, they hear a slight moan of agony, Ughhh.” They freeze in fear. Samala starts making wild head nods towards the noise.
~*~
Dark Elf Desert Castle, Nearing 1 AM, 677, 29th, October
Just as Dark Elf King Haldir is ready to give up, he tries the garden again. As he hopes, Light Elf Queen Vanna is there and alone. She is like a bright jewel in his desert kingdom. Haldir wastes no time as he is near enough, he hisses in a whisper, “I can offer you a bargain. If you agree, I will keep your son as my prisoner, rather than continuing to seek his death.” Haldir grins, “Then, I will release him, once you have given me a son.”
Vanna instantly goes from hopeful to sickened, as his eyes look at her with ravenous intent. If she refuses, she fears Haldir will kill Alrod, just to punish her for denying him. Slowly, Light Elf Queen Vanna nods. She loves her son, saving his life is worth suffering this humiliation. Vanna nearly retches; unsure she can go through with it. Vanna cannot imagine giving him her baby to raise, never seeing her child again nor being in its life.
How can she give Haldir her baby boy, just to save her other son? She also fears that he will take her and still kill Alrod. She feels helpless; her husband is not capable of protecting them, and worse, refuses to see how deadly the situation has become. Vanna believes Bailey will deny all until it is too late to be saved. She thinks of High Lord Anthony, what they meant to each other those six months, until she received the request to live in the Light Elf King’s court.
Vanna regrets deciding to try for Bailey’s eye; the Light Elf Queen now wishes she had stayed with Anthony. She lowers her eyelids, so Haldir will not see her hope that Anthony might save her son and get her away from this deal.
~*~
Darciana whispers, “Nepathi, please tell me that was you?” The Egyptian shakes her head, as she whispers, “That was not me!” They are silent as they look at each other with dread. Nepathi ties the cloth about her leg, and then lifts her chain to carry it. Quietly, the Egyptian goes to the nearest pillar by the entry to the Throne Room, hoping Kolo is still where he fell. The cousins are holding their breaths, to learn whether they still have a chance.
They plead with Fate for an escape from him. Taking several deep breaths, Nepathi moves to peek around the stone pillar, and she sees his form is still there. Now she stares at Kolo’s prone body preparing herself for the worst, expecting him to move at any moment. Unable to handle the tension of waiting Samala demands in an angry whisper, “Well?” Darciana huffs at her, “Shhh.”
~*~
Grigori warns Kristopher, “Nicolas is quick to anger, and his fury with any who have foolishly wronged him, is legendary. While I can give you the gory details to frighten you, I have no hope that he only seeks vengeance with you! I will not risk the clan. Give me your oath right now, that this is the end of it with her.” Kristopher looks back at the door. Krist cannot imagine life without her. As he turns back, Grigori sees it in Krist’s eyes and says, “So be it.”
Making the Horned Sign, Grigori blows his mist. As a B comes out of his mouth, it flies between his fingered horns. It goes toward Kristopher, who attempts to duck it. Still, the bright green mist B settles on Krist’s left cheek. This sends a chill through Krist, he screams, “No! Wait! You cannot do this to me!” It pains Grigori; however, the Rambler leader, Grigori now states with authority,
“You no longer belong to the Lake Bled Clan of Ramblers.
You are unwelcome to Ramble with us.
You cannot travel with us in our caravan.
Do not seek the use of our clan’s Cauldron.
You are unwelcome to use our Dark Door.
You are banned from going hunting with us.
You are unwelcome and will no longer share;
our fire, our food, not even our way of life.
Your name will be banished along with you;
and we will all seek to recall you, no more.
You chose to be unknown, and forgotten by us.
I banish you from the Lake Bled Rambler Clan.”
Grigori knows he failed to tell their Lady first, as he finishes, “While it is up to Leticia if she allows you on her land; do not come near our camp, nor claim us as yours. You are now unwelcome.”
~WBM~