Verra of Wolves

by Blake Thunderport

  “Did I scare you?” I asked and was sure that must’ve been it since I looked like a corpse, but she shook her head in response.

  “It’s the lover’s cross,” she explained. “You’re supposed to fall in love when you meet here for the first time. My parents did.”

  I stood quiet, since companionship and lust were the only things I knew, and I’d lost the latter months ago.

  “Tonio and Elvora, too, but that didn’t last,” Claire giggled, but her voice trembled with uncertainty. “Doesn’t mean anything, it’s just academy lore.”

  I followed her through to the entrance, where a Professor was sitting buried in books.

  “Professor Arend,” Claire spoke a lot louder than usual, almost shouting at him, “I brought a friend with me.”

  He didn’t look up to us but nodded and swung open the doors, with nothing but a motion of his hand.

  After she manoeuvred a book-wagon through them, I could enjoy the high stacked shelves around us. I’ve never seen more than a handful of books in one place. My fingers tingled again as I eyed the titles of the books we passed.

  We proceeded to a little lodge, hidden between the shelves. There, Claire pulled out a bottle of red wine from a chest and pressed it into my hands. “Pilini’s Best, try some.”

  “Here?” I asked in confusion.

  The wine was not for my own pleasure. Even though she knew I was a Witch, how far would she tolerate me trying a ritual on academy ground? I hesitated, instead of revealing my plans.

  She rolled her eyes and pulled out two chalices. “Yes, here,” she said and ripped the bottle out of my hands again. “Smell it.”

  The filled chalice gave off a stinging scent. My nose itched, and I held back a sneeze with all my might.

  “Intense, I know, Pilini’s Best.” Claire took a big gulp and waited on me to do the same.

  My neck muscles stiffened and I couldn’t enjoy the wine, instead, I snooped through the shelves to ensure Professor Arend was still sitting in his chair.

  “Don’t worry about Cassius,” Claire giggled.

  “You know him well?”

  “I’ve been working here for years, even before he started losing his hearing. He’s one of our patients, I mean my father’s, and now, Tonio’s.”

  “You work?” My question came off more surprised than I intended it to be.

  “What? Because I’m rich?” She scoffed and lowered her head. “I don’t get an allowance because I can’t use it for anything. Whatever I want, they just give it to me, there’s no need for money. I’m crazy, remember?” She gulped down the rest of her glass, poured in new wine and emptied it. Afterwards, she tried to fill mine, but I declined.

  “I’ve got some work to do, Bryon will take me home later so you don’t have to wait for me. We’ll see each other tomorrow,” she said, sorting the books in the wagon.

  “Tomorrow?” I asked.

  “The festival. Afterwards, party at my place. I’ve got The Waves of Romance to perform. We can dress you up real pretty.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  She was about to disappear behind the corner.

  “Wait! You think I can borrow some books?”

  “Sure. I’ll go prepare your library card.”

  I searched through the shelves in the magic—myth section and picked six books.

  When she came back, she raised her eyebrows. “Only three at a time,” she said and noticed how hard it was for me to pick the favourites.

  Practical magic, history books, and one that caught my attention the most titled Four Wonders of Gods. It would explain the four kinds of magical abilities. Witchcraft was excluded, as the authors of these books were Northerners. I didn’t let go of them.

  “You know what,” she said, “I don’t even care. Just promise to bring them back intact.” She noted the book titles on my card and put a stamp over it. “Oh, and… don’t be mad, I sent you some clothes,” she added before waving me goodbye and continuing her work.

  Rushing inside the loft, I placed my new books on the carpet by the fireplace and gathered the things I needed for the ritual at the altar.

  Before I set it up, I cleansed the room with smoke.

  Afterwards, I rubbed the vomit off my chest and threw the dress into the bathtub to soak it before washing.

  The ritual’s instructions mentioned leaving all earthly possessions off the body, even the jewellery. With the chalk, I copied the star-shaped rune from the grimoire onto the stone floor and placed the candles on its points. In front of me, I prepared the chalice and poured some wine into it.

  After reading the pages multiple times, I proceeded to inhale the smoke of Sosden flowers and let my mind wander off. The ritual promised a descent into the Underworld. There, I would meet its ruler. He was my only chance left to figure out what it meant to be a Witch.

  As instructed, I opened the ritual when I was comfortable to cut my hand open.

  “Hear me!” With the athame, I cut my left hand and let the blood drip into the chalice. “Make me your guest as I step down to you unguarded,” I chanted and placed the chalice between my legs before laying down and spreading my joints to the candles. “Hear me, Veymor, Lord of the Underworld, for I am coming!”

  The potent flowers calmed me down faster than my chamomile essence. I laid still, unable to move while an orgasmic wave ran through my body. My breasts and abdomen overheated while the numbing effect of Sosden helped me resist the urge to move.

  After I came to my senses, I found myself in the same position, on the same cold floor of my room.

  “It didn’t work,” I mumbled and sat up.

  The sun was still shining but the noise of the campus had disappeared. Wondering, if they finished preparing the festival already, I walked up to the wall and pressed my ear against it.

  “It worked just fine,” a sonorous voice said. “Welcome to the Underworld.”

  8. Underworld

  I turned around to the source of the voice; Veymor, the Lord of the Underworld, sat nowhere else but on my bed.

  A man of white skin, almost translucent, and pitch-black hair. He drank from the chalice, naked. He must’ve taken it while I was on the floor.

  I looked down on myself and flinched. I had forgotten I was naked, too, and quickly wrapped myself in my new nightgown.

  He wrinkled his eyebrows when I ran to the bed and kneeled in front of him.

  “I don’t like this,” he said, and the gown dropped from my shoulders, baring my chest. He took another sip from the chalice and leaned back.

  I scanned his body. It was flawless. The limbs were portioned well, the hairless skin around them glowed and invited me to touch him.

  “Climb on,” he said, but I remained kneeling and hovered my hand over his leg, fascinated by the steam that was radiating from it.

  “How’s this the Underworld?”

  “What did you expect? A dark realm? Perhaps Urai’s volcano, where I would sit on a throne? Now, climb on.”

  “On you?” I asked and my voice shook, as did my hands when I pulled the dress up again.

  “The bed. I won’t sleep with you without consent. Who do you think I am? A human?” He roared with laughter and lifted me next to him. “And leave that thing off, it messes up the barrier. You can’t use what you didn’t bring down here.” Stripping me of my gown, he swallowed down the rest of the wine.

  “You’re Veymor? Lord of the Underworld?”

  He was right, I had expected it all to be different, terrifying. Artists and storytellers portrayed him with horns and a dragon’s tail, yet he was perfect.

  “Are you here to steal my time? Certainly looks like it. What are you, stupid?”

  “Got something else to do?” I barked and couldn’t believe that I possessed the courage to address a God in such a rude way.

  He arched his eyebrows and stared into my equally black eyes before changing his expression. The corners of his mouth dropped. He relaxed his face when he got a clear vision of m
ine. “Not really, but what do you want?”

  “I want to know what it means to be a Witch, what else I can do, besides speaking my intent into reality and hoping it worked?”

  “Well, you also descended to the Underworld. What else is on your mind? Powers to destroy your enemies or get revenge? It’s what you girls usually ask for.”

  Remembering the rope around my ankles and the fire beneath my soles, anger awoke inside of me. I wished death to those men and misfortune to those who wronged me. “What would it take?”

  He grunted. “Would watching them die change anything?”

  Instead of offering a deal, as warned, he listened to me and my worries. How scared I was, to reveal my identity by accident and have to run away again. How afraid I was to lose the one friend that I gained. All because they expected me to be a Mage. The horror I had gone through seemed more and more insignificant. He was right. Though it would make me feel better, the death of those men wouldn’t solve my problems.

  “Who says you aren’t a Mage?” he asked, rolled on his stomach and closed his eyes. “I bet you haven’t even tried.”

  “I don’t know what there is to try.”

  “Neither do they, that’s why they study so much and get trapped in it.”

  He laughed about it, but I liked the idea of reading every book there is, studying all plants and their properties. My stomach prickled in excitement, and I was ashamed for calling the God of the Underworld to listen to my whining.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “Thank you,” I said louder, “for listening and telling me all this.”

  He got so close that I felt his breath on my face. “Shit, you really mean it,” he laughed. “You’re the first one to thank me.”

  “Are there more of us? You mentioned girls that came before me, where are they?”

  I saw the answer in his face when his smile disappeared. He was horrible at hiding what he thought.

  “To be honest, I don’t think there are any Witches left. I can’t know for sure, but it has been over a hundred years since one of you came down here.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek, and I released all tension in my back that I tried to uphold to seem contained. He comforted me with a hug, and I got to feel the softness of his damp skin.

  “Maybe they just don’t know how to descend?” I asked, and hope sparked up inside of me.

  “That’s what I thought, too, and started watching out for signs, but there were none.”

  “You didn’t see me burning at the stake either,” I said.

  His laugh quaked the bed. “Who do you think caused the storm that night?”

  “You let it happen!” I shouted and pushed him away. “You watched them rape me and did nothing.” I jumped up from the bed and distanced myself from him.

  “Ho, ho,” he breathed while pushing his hands down, calming me like a horse. “I couldn’t help you, it’s not that easy anymore.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Was it me who drank the wine, or was it the loss of blood? It seemed like all my energy was escaping my body at once.

  He caught me as I collapsed to the ground.

  “There’s no power to wield when no one is worshipping you,” he said, stroking through my hair. “I had to convince Wymin to make it rain that much.” When he confessed it, he frowned. It gnawed on his pride.

  After I sobbed in his arms, he picked me up and laid me on the bed.

  “Wymin?” I asked.

  “The God of all water. You should read your smart books, Mage.” He laughed and made me chuckle, too.

  Cuddled up to him, he made no advances unless I initiated them, and I began to trust in his sincerity. “I don’t want to leave,” I said, clawing myself into his chest.

  “I see,” he said, “but we’ll meet again. Now that you bound yourself to me, I can appear to you here, as long as you keep the portal.” He pointed to the chalked star.

  “B-bound?” I stuttered.

  “You offered me your blood in wine, I accepted it. We’re bound. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be visible to you.”

  “But does that mean,” I hesitated, “that I can’t bed anyone anymore?”

  Veymor’s roaring laughter confused me. “I wish you wouldn’t, but I already know why you’d ask. I didn’t claim you yet since it’s too early. So, you’re free to bed whoever you want to bed until you beg me to claim you.” His tone became dull. I sensed how sad it made him. If he was cursed to love me, it would explain his changes in behaviour.

  “Why would I beg you?” It seemed ridiculous, whether he was a God or not.

  “Let me keep one secret. It’s about time for you to go back.” He made excuses not to answer, and I shrugged it off. I wouldn’t hurry to give up the freedom of choice.

  “I tell you what, though,” he added, “you’d want them less after trying me once or twice.”

  My earlobes flushed with heat. He led me to the chalk portal where I spread out. Placing the chalice between my legs, he nuzzled it against the junction of my thighs.

  “Bring white wine next time,” I heard him say in the distance while I travelled back into my dimension.

  Time had passed at an equal pace. The sun had begun to set and went to pick up my meal. I bandaged my hand and hid it in my pocket before I left.

  On return, a large case was sitting in front of my door. It would be the clothes Claire mentioned. I found them neatly folded and took them out one by one, hanging them inside my closet. The case must've been cursed since unpacking never seemed to end. By the time I was done, it was overloaded to the point that I couldn’t close the doors anymore. Finally, I understood why she had a vault for them. But I couldn’t comprehend how she filled it up to such an extent.

  After I heated water for my bath, I enjoyed my dinner and smoked the place once more, just to be sure that I got rid of unwelcome energy.

  Pouring the water cauldron by cauldron, I got exhausted and made it worth the work by adding some chamomile essence into it. Afterwards, I filled the chalice with the leftover wine and placed it by the tub. The vapour transported a flowery odour through the room and freed my stuffy nose while the hot water enclosed me.

  That’s what his body felt like. Damp, even in the Underworld. I should’ve asked further questions about it, but was too excited to focus on anything else. Veymor was mesmerising and flooded my mind. Before him, I’d never seen a man fully naked. The picture imprinted itself in my head. I had been taught that my body was something to be ashamed of, something that needed to be hidden. But watching him move confidently in nothing but his skin made me doubt it.

  I concluded my body to be worthy of appreciation and respect, while I ran my fingers down my neck, to the chest and around my belly. Veymor’s body appeared in front of my eyes when I reached my legs.

  For the first time in months, I pleasured myself without pain.

  9. Mage

  That night, I’d gotten a marvellous sleep. I grinned while enjoying breakfast cake and tea in the early morning, though chamomile bored me, and I began trying fruit flavours.

  There were few of us eating in the cafeteria at the crack of dawn, and I figured the rest must’ve collected as much rest as possible for the festival.

  Back in my room, I shuffled through the books, and after an hour, they were all laying open as I tried connecting their wisdom to one another.

  ‘Who says you aren’t a Mage?’ Veymor’s voice echoed in my head, and I grabbed Four Wonders of Gods in the attempt to either confirm that I was a Mage—or figure out how to make me look like one. Either way, I had pushed this task away from me long enough in order to not get disappointed by the result.

  ‘Lao-Endras — The second born, Father of Magicians,’ I read the section’s title and ran through the introduction until I stumbled upon the chapter of Initiation.

  ‘Speech: A few months after birth, he might learn to repeat your words, even if he can not make sense of them, his spee
ch develops fast, though his motoric skills appear underdeveloped.’

  The narration addressed parents and had vivid explanations of traits to recognise in their children. I hurried to find the ones I related to.

  ‘Nature: You will find him wandering through the woods in awe, touching, smelling and tasting the things that surround him. He will collect rocks and leaves. He might hesitate to interfere with graft and flowers in bloom, as he recognises the flora as a living organism and will prevent you from doing the same.’

  ‘Thirst: He might admit to sparks or tingling inside his cheeks, hands, and stomach when confronted with unknown material. He will not rest unless he is allowed to explore his curiosity. Denying him access to mental stimuli may cause obsessive studies of self and the scrutinising of daily tasks.’

  ‘Magicians: He will be naturally drawn to other Magicians. An exchange of stimuli between them is advised to flourish his outstanding intelligence.’

  After reading the symptoms multiple times, I sat in front of the books and doubted that it was possible, even though most of the traits spoke to me. I took my time processing the information and read a few passages of the next chapter.

  I was a Mage, after all.

  The lover’s cross had been nothing but a story. Claire gravitated towards me, naturally. I was relieved and couldn’t wait to tell her that she wasn’t sick, that her powers tried to awake somewhere inside of her.

  The Di Centi family must’ve had a bloodline of Magicians. Tonio was the proof. But why didn’t they see it in Claire?

  I skipped through the section once again, trying to find symptoms associated with dreams, nightmares, or memories. There were none, and I assumed her powers were corrupted or evolved into something different.

  My thought process got vague. I made it my quest to find out the truth after the festival. But I couldn’t stop myself from reading the entire section.

  As I flipped through the pages, I made an astounding discovery.

  While every other species strode among the elements, Mages controlled them and formed something new. Control was a Magician’s key attribute.