Raska Tales: The Risen Witch

"Thomas, I'm about to do something, and you have to promise not to get scared or belligerent over it."

"Haru, if it takes us from here, I would promise more than that."

The witch nodded and leaned in to Xerivan's mane, whispering into his ear, "Show him."

In an instant, the Demon exploded into a cloud of smoke, absorbing both Haru and Thomas and bolting toward the sky. The crowd below went into an uproar, that voice roaring out from their mouths, "IMPOSSIBLE!"

Blue light rippled across the sky a moment before Xerivan slammed into an invisible wall, sending stars into Haru's vision as she fell from the Demon's grasp and plummeted back down toward the keep. In her flashing vision, she saw herself to be level with the roof of the restored spires and gaining speed. Before her guardian could even double back to grab her she was already passing the roof of the main building.

"Haruyal!" Xerivan roared, his Demonic rasp echoing through the basin.

"You're mine."

A tree's height above the waiting blades of the bewitched army, a bright, yellow light encompassed her and pulled her sideways. The shrieking girl was drawn into the now open doors of the keep and flew down the empty corridor. With Thomas still in his smoke, Xerivan bolted after her with an abyss of rage roaring from his darkness. The keep doors moved to close, but the Demon smashed through them to take half the stone door frame with it. He followed the screaming down the main corridor and through the double doors at the end into the keep's main hall. Set for a party three centuries late, the room was still lined with dining tables and decorations to celebrate some occasion for whoever ruled over the keep last.

A door on the Demon's right was open and he went straight into it to find himself dashing down a spiraling stair case. At the bottom he came to a wine cellar and in it was something that had stopped him in his place. An instant later, he released Thomas from his grasp and shifted into a wolf form already snarling from rage. The old adventurer stumbled forth from the demon's smoke with his sword out but yet he froze as he looked at what surrounded him.

Alchemy stations of all kinds lined the walls and the shelves for wine now stored jars of potion components and jewels glowing with magic. There were vats and cauldrons, some bubbling, others thickening over with some crystalizing concoction. But in the middle of it all, a robed man stood holding Haru by the hair and bending her over his largest cauldron of all. Boiling and spitting fluids up toward her face was a sickly orange fluid that reeked with a bitter, nose burning stench.

Thomas readied his weapon, and Xerivan grew a quintet of tendrils from his shoulders that twirled about his body while a low growl rumbled in his throat at the threat. He was a slender, almost frail looking man with gaunt cheeks and a nose that looked like it had been broken far too many times. Thin, matted black hair capped his head revealing a large forehead over his light grey eyes. Deep purple bags hung beneath his eye sockets and his cracked lips parted into a smile showing straight, but yellowed teeth. He looked to not have been much older than mid-thirties, but given the nature of powerful mages, one could never tell.

"A Shadow Shifter. Interesting," the man said lowly. "Your kind was confined by the Elder Brain in the Phalopalei. How did the Risen come to possess you?"

"Kill him, Xerivan!" Haru gasped before his hand lit up into a yellow glow and did something to make her scream. The General went to charge forth, only to stop when his daughter's face was pushed closer to the orange brew.

"That's it, hold right there, Demon."

"Unhand her," Thomas ordered. "Or by Calia's grace I will sunder your limbs from your body and have your head follow suit!"

That hood of the wizard cocked to the side, a short hrmph escaping his mouth as he said, "Amazing that Thomas of the Isles finally came to my home, and with the Risen in tow. I enjoyed your works, dear Thomas. Know that I did."

"Release her, you-"

That yellow light grabbed hold of him before he could finish, drawing him forward and pulling him to the edge of the scalding concoction threatening his companion. The old explorer's sword clattered to the ground as he grabbed hold of the rim of the cauldron to keep himself from getting pulled in. Against the hot metal his hands began to sizzle with a god-awful stench quickly permeating the air. Despite this, he held fast against the magic trying to force his end though he did give out a sharp cry of pain.

"Thomas!" Haru screeched trying to fight against the man's hold on her, only for magic binds around her wrists to cinch up and cause her further distress.

Xerivan bolted forward, only to be cast back by that same barrier spell he had crashed into outside.

"Stay back, Demon, and submit to me, Thomas, if you would like the Risen to survive."

"I will slay you, fiend!" he seethed, still holding strong against the magic trying to pull him into the certain death.

"If you continue to fight me, she will taste what awaits you."

"You are a Monster," Thomas snarled, provoking a grin from the wizard. "I am not one to surrender without a fight!"

"So be it." The wizard looked up to a loose stone in the ceiling, his magic grabbing hold of it and giving it a shake. It broke free of the mortar that held it and with a movement of his eyes, brought it down onto Thomas' head. Haru gave one more screech before her friend collapsed into the cauldron. There was a sizzling sound accompanied by rising smoke as his torso sunk in, and a chuckle as the wizard's magic plucked the journal from his belt and dumped the rest of the body in.

"You fucking cretin!" the witch screeched.

"I am, Risen. But from now on, you shall call me Dareth, for from here on, you belong to me."

A harrowing roar erupted in the cellar, Xerivan exploding from his form as his fog expanded to consume the space. Tendrils shot forth from every direction, smashing work stations and grabbing hold of the pillars holding up the ceiling. Several of these arms struck at Dareth, stabbing at his head only to hit a bubble of magic deflecting the blows.

"If you want the Risen to join her friend, continue as you are, Demon! I will end her life in this brew!"

The fog stopped, though it now completely surrounded Dareth and Haru. The wizard scowled, and before him a pair of red eyes appeared within the smoke. Pressing his hostage's face closer to the cauldron, he spoke low and deliberate as he ordered, "You will climb into this cauldron, Demon. You will do so now. Or she dies."

"Xerivan, don't," Haru pleaded before looking to Dareth. "Why do you want me?! Why?!"

"You are the Risen Witch," he answered. "You hold power beyond mere mortals, and I will have it, or I will snuff it out."

The red eyes of the Demon held in contest with the wizard, his growl resonating off the walls. Eyes closing tight, Haru waited for her head to be pushed beneath the surface of the concoction just below her left cheek, to taste death once again. Something else brushed her right cheek instead, and she opened her eyes to the sight of a black wolf pup seated on the rim of the cauldron, staring at her. Her eyes widened as it licked her cheek one last time and dropped into the fiery orange bath.

There was no sizzle, no smoke, just a roar of pain that shook the ground under her feet. Moments later, even that came to an end. Haru blinked, her eyes wide in disbelief as Dareth pulled her away from his cauldron and wrapped his arms around her body. A grin grew on his face as she didn't even fight back.

"You belong to me, now, Risen Witch. You have seen my power, you know what I can, and will, do. My people killed your mother slowly and painfully with my poisons. Should you fail me, your father and your entire village will follow her."

Haru's stomach sank, her lungs constricted. She wanted to scream as Dareth pulled her from the cauldron and led her away to a stairwell, taking her deeper into the depths of the Keep of the Mountain Song.

...

When the two descended, and the room was left empty, a black fog poured out from cauldron and spread over the floor of the cellar. His cloud thin and his strength gone, the Demon shook with hunger and hatred. He needed to recover and regain his strength. For that he would need time and food. Any food. Whether it be animal or human, flesh had to be consumed. The only thing keeping him alive was the power brought by the blood of the Goddess of Death, and to Moitri he gave his thanks as he swore his revenge.

....................

A rumble echoed through Haru's belly as she held onto a colorless crystal and watched as it began to glow with a grey light. She could feel her mana drain into the fist-sized jewel almost faster than she could recover it. It was a feeling she could compare to her life-blood pouring out through her finger tips.

When the crystal clouded over and the drain came to an end, she put her bare feet on the chilly, stone floor and stood from her cot. Shivers ran her body as she only wore a simple undershirt and loose pair of trousers and after the first step, she drew in a sharp breath. Vertigo struck her to nearly take her off her feet. She spread her arms out for balance and only after a long pause did her head clear and she was able to regain her footing.

Fist tightening around the charged gem in her hand, she took the three steps needed to cross her dark cell to the magically protected bars that sealed her in. Careful not to touch the metal, she reached between the bars and placed her payment on the floor outside her prison. Within moments one of Dareth's men was there, using wool gloves to pick up the jewel before he glanced in at the witch slowly retreating to her cot. Even in the low torchlight of the dungeon, he could still see the utter defeat stuck to her young face. She lifted her gaze from the floor to look at him, her eyes pleading for a way out but the soldier shamefully hung his head as he turned away. They were both prisoners, only with different cages.

Bring the jewel to me.

The harsh whisper burned into his mind. Physical pain from the intrusion forced him to wince and drop to a knee. His breathing shallowed and his brow arched, before the message repeated again and further agonized the inside of his skull. With one last apologetic look upon the Master's newest capture, he got back to his feet and carried on down the hall.

The witch lowered her head again when he left, raising a hand to the wall beside her and using her magic to etch out a sixtieth mark on the wall of her cell.

"'A jewel for a meal,' the Master Dareth tells me," she muttered aloud to the stone walls. "'As many as you produce is as much as you will eat. If you kill yourself filling them, then so be it.' Says it like he doesn't care if I die in this cell. But he needs these jewels to an end but I don't know why."

She laid back on her cot to stare as the darkness that was her ceiling. "He killed Mom to send me with Thomas, who was coming here, and that brought me right to him so he could lock me away and leech off of my magic. How could he predict these things?"

She lifted a hand and looked to it as a small flames rose from her finger tips. "He calls me Risen. Risen from the grave. He knows all these things about me but I never met him in my life!"

The flames went out and she rolled over onto her side to stare at the wall.

"I want out of here. I want to kill him. I want to go home. I want Mom's blueberry tarts."

Soon the patter of bare feet on stone echoed down the hall and the witch sat up in anticipation. A woman not much older than Haru was at the door of her cell with a tray. She carefully placed a half loaf of bread, sticks of jerky, half an apple, and a tin cup of water outside the bars of the cell before she put on a glove and reached into the pocket of her apron. The witch hung her head when she saw a new crystal placed down beside her meal.

She could sense the magic hanging over the woman, the spell her Master maintained over all of his servants. They were all puppets that he could take up the strings for at any time. All so weak-willed as to not be able to stop him from possessing their bodies, as he had done to them the day she came to this keep.

Yet even through everything he had tried and inflicted to Haru, even with his influence trying to press upon her even in sleep, not once had he been able to crack her. She remained impervious his influence, and that he could not change.

Using her magic to pull her food into her cell, Haru left the crystal where it sat as she began to wolf down what little she had been given. Unable to stomach the near-savage display of the starving girl, the serving woman turned and left the area without a word, leaving her alone to consume her meal and charge another crystal. She was unaware of the thin trail of black smoke racing over the floor around her feet.

Chugging back the last of her water, Haru dropped the cup on the floor and fell into her cot with heavy eyes. Drawing her blanket up and using a portion of it as a make-shift pillow and the rest to cover up, she tried to get some shut eye before she had to charge another crystal for Dareth. Maybe get one dream in of the better times before waking back to this nightmare.

As her eyes slipped shut, a familiar chill enveloped her body, a welcome presence taking her into its embrace. Her eyes opened to find herself in a foggy state, darkness completely immersing her just as it did when...

"Xerivan?" she murmured.

The darkness fell away and she dropped to her knees. Outside her cell. The Witch blinked in surprise, examining the bars that had proven impervious to every spell she knew. She turned around and found a beast looming over her. It was almost wolf-like, yet it stood up on two legs with thick, muscled arms and lengthy claws on its thumbed hands. The Demon mimicked a race her mother had spoken about, one that lived in the northern parts of Giran. Lycans.

The only question in her mind was whether or not this was her Demon.

"Xerivan?" she questioned again, a bit louder this time.

The bipedal wolf grinned and gave a single nod of its head.

Eyes watering, the young witch threw herself against his midsection, hugging onto him with all her strength as she sobbed into his fur. The Shadow Shifter returned this embrace, taking in a deep breath and taking in her scent with a low whine.

"I thought you died. Thomas, the cauldron..."

Xerivan pushed her back, and she looked up into his eyes. He pressed a clawed finger to his muzzle and let a cloud of fog pour from his belly. Items spilled out from his insides, boots, bracers, a sword, armor. As they clattered to the floor, Haru quickly realized what was spilling from the Demon was not just scavenged gear. It was her gear.

She wanted to squeal, to hug onto him and never let go. But she knew better. This was an escape, and they couldn't get out of this place fast enough.

Quickly as she could with fumbling fingers, Haru donned the pieces of armor and slid the sword into the sheath on her belt. Her equipment felt heavy on her body now, but she was sure that after some time outside the prison, she would be back in fighting order. And her first target awaited her in the laboratory above.

When she was fully geared, the Witch looked to her Demon and gave him a nod. He immediately exploded into a fog and consumed her once again before darting off down the hall. They slipped past the serving woman and moved up a winding stairwell for several floors before coming out into a hallway. They followed that to the end and came out into the primary corridor of the keep, the main hall down to their left, and the big double doors leading to the way out on their right.

Haru didn't need to say a word to her Demon; he immediately darted left down the corridor to the doors leading into the main hall. Right before he hit the doors, however, he spat Haru out from his fog and returned to the lycan form, though even larger, standing twice as tall as any human man. An individual claw on his hand as big as any short-sword. The witch looked up at her guardian in this form and cracked a broad smile as she drew her own weapon.

"You've been feeding well, Xerivan. I hope you have room for desert."

...

The main hall of the keep had been set for a dinner party, just as it had been when the witch had first come to it. Only now some of the tables had been cleared from the middle to make space for a long table to be brought out and prepped for a feast. It was covered in fine silverware, glasses, jugs of refreshments, platters of fresh and delicious smelling food that were already half gone. Devoured by the four men who sat at the table as they feasted, discussed, then regurgitated their meals in order to eat even more. All under the watch the six most professional looking men under Dareth's control.

A blast of powerful magic hammered the doors to the hall. Stone tore right out of the wall as the slabs of steel and wood were ripped from their anchors and sent flying. As the dust cleared, Haru stalked into the room with her demon in tow. Bearing a maniacal grin at the damage she had done.

The guards beside the table to her right were crushed under one door while whoever was sitting at the end of the table closest to the entrance was crushed under the other. On her left, the surviving three of Dareth's men were scrambling over themselves to get away from the wreckage.

The two other guests who had been sitting mid-table were picking themselves off the floor after they'd fallen from their chairs. Haru noticed them to be wearing leather and chainmail armor, their gruff and scarred faces immediate signs that they were far from nobles and closer to hired thugs.

At the far end of the long table, rising from his seat and pulling back the sleeves of his black robes to reveal the warm glow emanating from his hands, was Dareth himself.

He kept his hood drawn, his best attempt at being both intimidating and mysterious, but she could see those light-grey eyes of his widening at the mere sight of her. She relished the fear that slowly took over his bony, pale face.

"FORSAKEN BITCH!" the wizard screamed.

"MISERABLE CRETIN!" the witch thundered in reply. "Xerivan, kill the guests. Dareth is MINE!"

The Shadow Shifter unleashed an ungodly roar as he charged forth with his claws out. Haru focused her magic behind her and bolted forward faster than the eye could track. The whole of the long table was flipped in her wake and the defending wizard barely had a shield up in time.

The witch's sword came down on a golden, glowing barrier that stopped it barely a hand-width from his head. With a snarl she raised her off hand to engulf the barrier in flames, only for her fingers to frost over. Not seeing a physical way through his shield, she took a quick bound backward and sheathed her sword while drawing up her magical power.

"You escaped! How could you escape?!" Dareth questioned as icicles launched from his hands.

"My guardian," Haru answered, engulfing the icy darts in white flames and letting resulting mist speckle her face. "You can't kill my Demon, he will always protect his charge."

As if on cue, one of Dareth's guests flew past the battling magic-wielders, splattering into a fine paste on the wall. The other man was giving one final scream before he disappeared into Xerivan's open mouth and was swallowed whole. The Shadow Shifter roared victorious as he changed his focus to the wizard fighting with his witch.

"Risen, protected by the Fallen... The Fallen should have died!" Dareth's eyes clouded over as he looked to his three men fleeing the room.

Glancing over her shoulder, Haru watched as they stumbled and stopped in their tracks. Shoulders slumping, they starting shifting in unnatural, jerky movements. Their mouths slacked open, their eyelids hung down halfway over their eyes, and together they groaned as their master forced his will into their voice boxes.