“This place is cursed,” she murmured to herself.
However, the forest stretched over vast distances; the only option was to go through.
She glanced down at the lady and softly said, “Come on.”
The mare was reluctant, but went along. Entering the woods, Mara began to question if this was a good idea to travel alone. The deeper they went, the more aware they became of the dangers in the forest. It was very dark. The trees blocked out the sky. Mara reached for her flask of moon water and gave it a shake. The light grew brighter, illuminating her surroundings. She spotted some skeletal remains near the road. The bones were picked clean and broken in some places. The skull was fractured while teeth marks marred the bones. Whatever did this had to be huge.
Travelling further into the forest, Mara heard a twig snap. She snapped her gaze to the source of the sound, trying to see what caused it. She was going to stop and investigate. All of a sudden, a loud ear-piercing screech broke the silence. It frightened the lady enough to cause her to break into a full gallop. Mara was almost thrown off, but she held on for dear life. The huntress attempted to calm the mare down and get her under control. The horse had no intentions of stopping. She wanted out of this cursed forest.
The pounding of her hooves drew the attention of whatever was hiding in the woods. Mara heard a loud rustle coming from behind her. She looked back and saw the trees shaking. There was indeed a creature hiding in this forest, and it was chasing them. Its loud footsteps almost rivalled the stomping of the lady’s hooves. They were halfway through the forest when the creature emerged. A large beast leapt through the air and tried to take a swing at them. The horse was able to outrun the monster and kept galloping. Glancing back again, all Mara could see was a grey blur. The monster was fast for its size and showed no signs of tiring. She would have no choice but to engage the creature in battle. If her horse dies, returning to Mirahyll in time would be impossible. She pulled on the reigns to slow the mare down, enough to dismount safely. The horse continued to gallop away while Mara stayed behind to face the monster alone.
Unsheathing Nightingale, Mara stared down the beast. The monster was at least twice her height. Grey decaying skin stretched over its bones and patches of fur covered its lanky body. The head was a deer’s skull with human skin stretched over it, sporting large antlers. The eyes were sunken into the sockets. It possessed long arms with sharp claws on its hands. It stood on its hind legs. Even its feet had sharp claws.
She never saw such a creature before, though it reminded her of the snow beast encountered on Grey Mountain. The creature’s height rivalled one, making Mara realize she could be in for a difficult fight.
The beast lunged at her and took a swipe. She dodged and countered. Even though Nightingale inflicted some damage, the monster showed very little reaction. The creature screamed at her. Its voice was so high-pitched, it hurt her ears. While fighting the beast, Mara discovered it was very fast for its size. She took another swing at it, only for the creature to dodge backwards. It also appeared very intelligent. The monster pounded the ground in front of itself, forcing Mara back.
As they fought, Mara heard shouting and war cries. Without warning, a group of five people arrived on horses. Four of them dismounted and unsheathed their weapons, assisting Mara in the fight. One remained on a horse, watching the beast. She glanced to one of them, noting the tanned leather armour and metal platings. The armour they wore reminded her of the Silver Thorns. They also wore masks to hide their faces. Whoever they were, they appeared to be skilled monster hunters. One of them threw a firebomb which exploded on contact. The fire seemed to drive the creature away. The beast released another screech as it turned and ran back into the tangled wood.
With the coast clear, the four warriors switched their attention to Mara. They removed their masks. Seeing their faces, Mara noticed their skin colour. Like her father, their skin was darker, like chocolate. Some were lighter than others, but it was very rare to see people like these anywhere else in Ardana. There could only be one place they came from, and that was the Village of Andel. Another thing she noticed were their cautious gazes. Some had their weapons drawn, unsure what to make of her. Was she a friend or foe?
One of them asked, “An outsider?”
Mara took note of their words. ’Guess they don’t like outsiders.’
Another reached for her mask and pulled it down. They seemed surprised to see her face. She could fit in, though her skin was much lighter. Her skin colour used to bring up a number of discussions when she was younger. She was neither one or the other.
“I know this face,” said a male voice.
Mara glanced to the one mounted on his horse. He began to approach her. Stopping before them, he reached for his mask and removed it. He possessed dark eyes. His face was round and his nose prominent. Wrinkles sat on the corners of his eyes, and his long hair had several strands of grey.
“This is Mara Ashwood,” he said, looking at her.
The others glanced at him, then to her. They all looked surprised. Mara was also astonished for this man knew her name. Another rider appeared on a horse. A black mare without an occupant was beside them, being guided by the reigns. Mara recognized the little lady, feeling relieved the horse got to safety. The man glanced to the horse, then to her.
“Is this your horse?”
Mara nodded. “Yes, she is.”
“Very well,” he said. “Perhaps we should return to Andel to talk. I don’t think here is ideal.”
Everyone agreed. The warriors returned to their horses and began to leave. Mara mounted the little lady and followed after them.
***
They reached the village by the evening of December 23. Mara looked around while passing through Andel’s gates. She spotted some people walking around, going about their business. Children played outside under the supervision of adults. After a few seconds, they spotted her and ran to their parents. They all took notice and watched her with wary expressions. Mara figured they didn’t have many visitors from the outside.
The riders dismounted from their horses. She followed suit.
“Come inside,” the man spoke. “There is plenty to discuss.”
She followed them into the large house, ignoring the stares of others. She entered a great hall, where the middle-aged man stood. He looked down at the floor while his riders surrounded him.
“Welcome, Mara,” he began, looking up at her. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
She glanced back at him. “You know my name?”
He gave a light chuckle. “I knew your father,” he explained.
“Well, since you know my name, care to tell me yours?” Mara inquired. “I’d like to thank those who helped me back there. If not for you, I wouldn’t have made it here.”
“My apologies, let us introduce ourselves. We are the Stone Mages. I am Elder Ravenclaw,” he said. “We are the descendants of the Thoron Sages who defeated Aazalith. For many years, we’ve been oppressed by the vile sorceress.”
She smirked, knowing whom he was referring to. “That’s a pretty appropriate description of Kallisto.”
“Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, I must ask why you seek our village?” The elder gave a questioning glance. “I can tell you’re not human.”
“I’m an undying,” Mara told him.
“Undying? How did you become this undying?”
“I was killed by the false goddess,” she revealed. “I was lured to the temple, unbeknownst to my parents. Mom and Dad went to confront the Faith, but my father was murdered. My mom spent the last three decades locked away in a hospital. I’ve been a prisoner for thirty years until over a month ago. Since then, they’ve been trying to recapture me.”
Everyone was bewildered by her tale.
“I see,” Ravenclaw said. “Thalia of Thoron was the first undying to walk this earth. Immortal but not invincible, and the immortality could not be shared.”
“Unless someone inherits a p
iece of her soul,” Mara replied. “Thalia used a spell to break her soul into several pieces. It’s why I exist. I was sent on a quest to collect the souls of the undying, believing it would help lift my curse. Instead, it’ll awaken Thalia. The Faith is seeking to prevent her return. Only three of us remain.”
The elder was silent for a while. “Very well. So, why have you come here?”
“I came for a dagger,” Mara revealed. “I was told it would stop Thalia from taking over.”
“The Binding Dagger?” Ravenclaw questioned. It was obvious he knew what she was looking for. “It can seal away powerful forces. How do you know about it?”
“The Faith is also looking for it,” she replied. “They intend to seal away Thalia.”
“They do?”
“They won’t rest until they have it,” Mara said. “Please, give me the dagger. I’ll make sure it will never fall into the wrong hands.”
“Maybe we can come to an agreement. We have a common enemy.” Ravenclaw gazed at her. “We’ve been hiding for many years. Our magic has protected this village for a long time, making it impossible for the Faith to find us, but it’ll soon fade. Today, they spread lies of us being heretics and savages. Yet they seek to murder us.”
“Why?” Mara asked.
“We know the truth,” he replied. “We know how the gods and the Faith came to exist, and how to destroy them. Your ancestors were responsible for Lord Slayer Godstruck.”
“Yeah, too bad it was destroyed,” Mara grumbled.
Everyone looked horrified to hear about the sword’s destruction. However, the elder didn’t seem too distraught in comparison. He saw Nightingale strapped to her belt.
He glanced to her and said, “After learning of the death of you and your father, we declared war on the Faith. We plotted to overthrow them by retrieving you. You are the only one who can stop the false goddess.” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, we were outnumbered and outmatched. We were massacred. The previous elder was cursed by the goddess for leading the attack, transforming him into a wendigo—the creature you encountered. She charged him to terrorize us for our rebellion. It’s been thirty years and none had been able to slay him.”
“All I have to do is kill the creature and you’ll give me the dagger?”
The elder nodded. “I’ll agree to this, but the creature will not be easy. One of our youths went to slay the monster, but he never returned.”
“Think I found him just as I entered the forest. I’m very sorry for your loss.” Then, “I also noticed the forest was cursed.”
“His curse bled into the woods, infecting it, and isolating us from the rest of Ardana,” he said.
“I’ve dealt with curses. Was able to free Misty Valley and Haranta Village,” Mara said. “If I go back there, will I find him?”
“Yes, but he also likes to frequent the graveyard.”
Mara nodded. She then left the village to find the creature.
***
Wandering the dark forest at night, Mara questioned if this was a good idea. She couldn’t see anything in front of her. Then the silence was broken by an ear-piercing screech coming from the graveyard. She ran in the direction of the ghastly howls and reached her destination. She froze upon seeing the towering creature. The wendigo was digging up graves for anything edible. With Mara’s presence, the creature stopped and turned his attention onto her.
The monster released a high pitch shriek while lunging at her. She managed to dodge, but he took a swipe at her. She received an ugly gash on her left arm. The huntress tried to fight the creature, though his speed was problematic. He leapt high into the air and pounced on her. Mara attempted to dodge, but the monster grabbed her.
The huntress tried to struggle out of the creature’s grasp. Appearing annoyed, he smashed her into the ground at least four consecutive times. Her legs and pelvis were shattered. He released her, knowing she wasn’t going anywhere. Mara didn’t know how she remained alive. There was blood everywhere. She couldn’t move her legs at all. The creature towered over her with his hand reached out, ready to grab and devour her half-broken body.
All of a sudden, Mara heard cries. Two young warriors from the village came out of nowhere and lashed out at the beast. One of the men stabbed his spear into the beast’s hide. The creature retaliated by striking at the man, impaling him on the sharp claws. The wendigo proceeded to devour him. He bit off his head, causing the body to shudder briefly. The creature ate the remains and grew in proportion to the meal he consumed.
The wendigo turned on the other man and snatched him. Mara watched in horror as the warrior kicked and screamed. The creature fitted the young man’s head into his mouth, then snapped his jaws shut. The man twitched for a few seconds before he stopped moving. The huntress watched as the beast ate the rest of him. At least she had time to heal. The bones and muscles in her legs and pelvis managed to reset, but she was still too weak to run away. She would have to fight. The creature turned to her and grasped her body. The wendigo grew so much, she could fit into the palm of his hand.
As the creature’s fingers closed around Mara, she gripped her sword and slashed at his hand, cutting off all his fingers. The creature released a long high-pitched roar that echoed throughout the mountains. Then he lunged at her with his mouth wide open. The beast tried to bite her in half, but she managed to catch the jaws open with her hands. Struggling to pry the beast’s mouth open, her eyes began to glow bright. With all her strength, she forced the creature’s jaws open. The force she exerted was so great, she snapped the monster’s lower jaw off.
Gallons of blood sprayed onto Mara while the creature reared back. He held onto the massive wound where his jaw used to be, trying to keep the blood from gushing out. The wendigo staggered away from her, but the loss of blood made him weaker. The beast fell to the ground where he no longer moved, the life slipping away from him. The huntress approached the creature, looking at whatever remained of his face. She lifted Nightingale over her head and brought it down several times, slashing and hacking the creature to death. A red haze blinded her view.
After she was finished, Mara took deep breaths. She wiped the blood from her face as she continued to stare at his battered head. Then she collapsed in exhaustion. Falling down beside the creature, Mara saw a shining stone on his person. Another healing stone was found. Very convenient, seeing how she wouldn’t survive. Despite her regenerating, the injuries were far too great. Staring up at the starry sky, Mara contemplated on what a clear night it was before the darkness claimed her.
***
A tingling sensation reached her fingers, making them twitch. Soon it became a burning sensation rushing through her veins. Mara jolted awake. She was right about dying from her injuries. She had been reverted back to her undying form, but at least she got a second healing stone. Mara found herself laying on a bed. She was back in the village. The sun rose on a cold winter morning. She reckoned the villagers found her and brought her back here. Chances were everyone got a glimpse of her inhuman appearance. She took the healing stone from last night and used it to restore her human form. Glancing around, Mara saw the elder with his back turned to her. He sat before the fire, holding Nightingale in his hands. She glanced down to confirm he took her sword. Even the sheath was removed from her belt. Looking up at him, she watched as he studied the blade.
“I see you’ve awakened,” Elder Ravenclaw began. “You have slain the wendigo.”
She rose to her feet.
“I have,” she replied. Mara glanced at Nightingale. Why did he take her sword?
“I hope the creature was not too much trouble.”
She gazed at the back of his head. “It broke every bone in my legs and tried to eat me.”
“You’re still alive. That has to count for something.”
“Why did you send those men?” Mara questioned.
“To buy you some time to heal and kill the creature.” Then he looked back at her. “My father was the previous elder.”
She froze. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She was speechless while watching the grim expression on his face. The embers rose behind him.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I… I didn’t know.”
“Don’t be. Thanks to you, my father is free.” He then glanced down at Nightingale. “Your father forged this blade?”
She nodded. “It was a birthday present.” She gazed at Nightingale. “I think it was the last weapon Dad ever made before he died.”
The elder studied every detail of her sword.
“He was defiant to the very end.” A small smile formed on his face.
Mara switched her attention onto him. “Why did Dad die?”
“Your father knew how to forge a Lord Slayer, since he was descended from the creators of Godstruck. They killed him to destroy the knowledge. However, they failed to stop him.” He gazed at her. “This is a Lord Slayer, though he made it appear as if it were a normal sword to avoid suspicion. Yet when a moonstone is inserted, it’ll possess the power to defeat a god.” He approached her and returned Nightingale. “The Faith must not know you have this.”
She took Nightingale. As she strapped the sword to her belt, Ravenclaw approached a box on a dresser. Picking up the box, he returned to Mara with it.
“By killing the wendigo, you saved the Stone Mage Tribe from many more years of pain and misery. You did what I had neither the strength or courage to do.” He handed the box to her. “For that, we thank you.”
Opening the box, Mara saw an ornate dagger with unique symbols etched onto the blade. This was the artifact Mr. White mentioned. After taking the Binding Dagger, she gazed back at the elder and nodded.
“Wait… I wish to speak to her,” came a small female voice from another room.
The Cursed Herald Page 20