Chapter Forty-Six: Put To Rest

Ash did not immediately go and dig up the mother’s bones. At first, he wanted to. He was very close to achieving this goal, which would allow him to get started on the path to financial stability or at least pay his tuition.

However, he would have to fight the geist, and he wanted to be prepared for that. He couldn’t get enough for a healing potion, but the book recommended curse oil, which was effective against curse-related monsters. It would not have worked against the geist until he had burned the abandoner's bones, but once he had, the geist would appear, and the oil would work.

He needed a shovel as well. With that and mine, he spent the rest of the day gathering ingredients for the oil. As he did, he came across a shiny black rock that gleamed brilliantly in the sun, and it had a sharp edge. He was sure it had a name that he couldn’t place, but he put it in his pack so he could admire it later.

Returning to his dorm room, he started setting up some of the rocks on the small shelf he had, admiring how smooth and shiny they were. Lilith enjoyed a blue stone, running her fingers over it, her eyes focused on it, and she was clearly enraptured.

He took out what he needed for alchemy and got to work. The herbalist book he had bought told him that the cursed oil would need to be heated on low, with a sudden flare of heat at the very end. Luckily, he had considered that he would fail the first batch and gathered enough for two.

Sighing as he threw away the bad batch, he cleaned the pot, getting to work again. In the last few moments, he flared the heat, turning the knob and watching the fire pulse brighter. This time, he succeeded in making curse oil. With that done, he undressed, falling into bed moments later. Lilith took her dragon form, curling up into a small bald at his feet.

He was out within seconds.

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Ash and Lilith were behind the mansion under the big tree that loomed over the yard like an ancient guardian. He had coated his sword in the oil, waited until it dried on the blade, and then set it against the tree. Using the shovel, he began to dig.

It took a while, and Ash was grateful for all of the training Amalia had given him to condition his body; otherwise, he may have been too tired for the fight ahead. Eventually, he hit two burlap sacks. One was clearly fuller and larger than the other, so he knew this was the mother. He climbed out of the pit, looking down at the sacks.

Senseless death.

Ash wondered what would have happened had there been more forgiveness in the family. If the mother had chosen to forgive to help instead of scorn and hate. If the father, Alder, had decided to forgive himself rather than condemn himself.

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How would things have turned out if someone, anyone, in the relationship had just chosen forgiveness instead of condemnation and scorn?

Reaching into his pack, Ash retrieved a fire stick. It had cost him another precious copper, but it made this process far easier. It had a script he could touch, and fire would engulf the front end.

When the flame whooshed into existence, he threw it onto the sacks. Then, he pushed leaves, twigs, and some paper he had brought along into the pit to help the fire burn. Ash picked up his sword, directing Lilith to stand some way away. He was fine with her helping through observation, but the dragon hatchling had no way to defend herself currently.

She didn’t like it, telling him with images that she could take any monster, anytime and anywhere. As amusing as that was, it wasn’t true. Her claws would hurt, but they were tiny and wouldn’t be as effective as his sword. No, she was better off observing. She growled about it but did as he asked.

A gentle breeze blew through the area, swaying the leaves. Swirling smoke was blown slowly away like lazy clouds.

Then she was there, the geist. She looked less translucent, but this time, she didn’t have a blank expression.

This time, her face was morphed into a vision of wrath.

A little creepy seeing such rage on a little girl’s face, Ash thought as he breathed, lifting his sword.

“I know you likely can’t hear me. That you’re nothing but a monster now, but I want you to know how sorry I am that this happened to you. No little girl should lose their mother like that. You had a life ahead of you, and you deserved to live it. But you can rest now, Holly. I’m going to give that to you, I promise.”

As he suspected, the geist did not respond in human fashion. Instead, it tried to kill him.

“MOMMY!” It screeched.

Ash was already rolling as it pointed at him. Every time that invisible force had hit him, the geist had pointed first. He figured it would require some aiming, and if he were out of the way the geist was pointing in, he could dodge it.

His hypothesis proved true as the invisible force slammed into the tree, bark exploding like deadly shards. A booming crack echoed around the yard as Ash covered his face, needle-like shards of bark trying to pierce him.

He swung his curse-oil-covered blade, and this time, finally, the sword bit into her back. Much like the night maiden, the blade cut away some of the wraith’s substance, almost like he was cutting at layers of spiderweb.

The geist let out a horrific, high-pitched, grinding scream.

She vanished, reappearing some feet away from him; she lifted both hands, her pale, colorless eyes filled with utter grief-ridden, mad anger. Fallen branches and rocks lifted into the air. Lilith shot a warning into his mind. Ash’s eyes widened as he understood what was about to happen.

He sent his mind toward his elan within him, drawing upon his elar, he pushed it out of his back, summoning his frost dragon wings. He did so just in time as the geist screeched again, and the rocks and branches flew toward him in a deadly whizzing arch that would have skewered him had the frost and ice of his wings not coated them in a thick layer of rime, slowing them. The natural projectiles driven by the geists power fell to the ground.

Ash pulled on more elar, pushing off with his feet, he launched himself forward, sword raised high, he brought it down in a diagonal slash from the right that cut through the giest from right shoulder to hip.

It screamed in utter agony and woe, its form vibrating, shifting, and finally, dispersing in a sudden cloud of silver-white.

“Mommy..I miss you.”

It was over.

Ash stood straighter, happy that the cursed oil had worked but more than a little sad. In the end, she was just a little girl who wanted her mother. Ash had never experienced anyone facing problems with addiction, so he had a hard time relating, but it seemed to him that it wasn’t always the monsters that ruined your life.

Sometimes, it was just the simple, mundane, everyday struggle that did it.

“You can rest now, Holly. You can rest.”