Like an answer from above, localized fire rained down on the logroth. Strong embers attached to the logroth and began to burn the already blackened bark of the beast. Duncan looked around, confused as to what was happening. As he turned around, he saw Ravenna, hands contorted in concentration, conjuring up the raining embers over the head of the logroth. The tall tree monster roared in agony as it began to burn. Ravenna focused and raised the intensity, and the embers became flames that engulfed the logroth. Duncan was astounded. He had been outdone by a witch.
Ravenna continued to burn up the logroth’s body, raising the intensity and the heat with each passing moment. The logroth lashed out, striking at nothing, leveling some of the nearby trees. The logroth let out a terrible roar as it burned, and within minutes, the logroth died, and its body burned in the darkness of the woods.
Duncan turned to Ravenna. He had no words.
“Cat got your tongue, hunter?” She asked.
She turned to continue leading the way out of the forest, and Duncan followed, agitated by the fact that he’d been outdone by a wretched witch.
The rest of the trip to the forest’s edge was quiet. Duncan thought of his quarry and how he would soon end the life of the greatest monster in his mind. Ravenna thought of Duncan. She thought that maybe he would soften. She wondered what he was really like underneath the hard exterior. Mostly, she wondered about the great sadness she felt within him. What had happened to him, and why did he hide it?
Chapter 8
Soon, they reached the edge of the forest, and Duncan had slain a few minor monsters on their way, but nothing compared to the logroth that Ravenna had slain single-handedly. This pleased Ravenna but made Duncan feel inferior. He lived for hunting monsters, so when Ravenna had outdone him so completely, he was less than pleased. There was quite a distance between the forest and the dwarven settlement of Hammerforge. That was where the witch was supposed to have gone if Ravenna was correct. The distance between where they were and where they wished to go was great, and Duncan would be very surprised if nothing reared its head at them during the trip.
Duncan thought to himself as they walked the lands of Rivania. He thought about the witch’s magic that she had used on him. She touched him and felt something within him. She felt the emotions that he had. She even felt the ones he repressed within himself. Duncan never thought anyone could see such things. Then, he was no expert on magical means. He hated magic but didn’t fully understand it.
He also thought of Ravenna’s masterful kill of the logroth in the Ebonwood. She felled the creature with nothing but fire magic. She spoke no words as she slew the great beast. Duncan always thought that witches' magic used words. It would seem he was incorrect. She had burned the logroth entirely, giving no quarter and showing no mercy. It was a cold kill, which Duncan expected of a witch. What he didn’t expect was to be so utterly outclassed by one. His livelihood was monster hunting. He made his way by slaying beasts that others could not, and yet a witch had succeeded where he had failed. It bothered him deeply.
Ravenna, rather than focusing inward, was focused on their destination. She knew things would be better when the journey was over. A witch traveling with a witch hater was borderline suicidal, but she had no choice in the matter. She believed Duncan would kill her if she didn’t help. But would he really? The question tossed in her mind. He was a man of honor, but also conviction. She couldn’t be sure, which is why she stayed and didn’t try to run off. But it was also because of something else. She sensed something in Duncan during her empathic touch. She wanted to know more, and she wanted to believe that there was more to Duncan than someone who hated witches. Was there? She would have to wait to find out. She liked to think that there was though, which was enough to keep her going.
They wouldn’t reach Hammerforge within the week. Ravenna and Duncan both knew this. Ravenna had been around Rivania, as had Duncan, and knew it would take time to reach Hammerforge from the Ebonwood forest. They hadn’t discussed where they would stay each night along the journey, and it wasn’t long before Duncan broke the silence between them with a suggestion.
“The village of Dawn,” He spoke.
“What?”
“Dawn. It’s a village on this side of the Rivanian Sea. Named for being the first place to see the sun as it comes over the mountains.”
“I know what Dawn is, Duncan,” She said, exasperated. “I mean, what about it?”
“That’s where we can stay. It’s gonna take a fair amount of time to get to Hammerforge.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Ravenna spoke smoothly. “So you want to stay in Dawn?”
“For a night, yes. It’s not too far out of the way and it beats the wilderness.”
“Then we start in that direction. Who knows, maybe they’ll even have a quick contract for you to take up.”
“It will still take a day or so to get there. When night falls we’ll need to make camp somewhere.
They crossed the wilds of western Rivania throughout the day. Some beasts were seen in the distance, and some flew high overhead in the clouds above, but Duncan and Ravenna were left alone by them. Duncan would point out various species to Ravenna and tell her everything he knew about each one. This was his way of passing the time on the journey to Dawn, and it actually helped him forget that he was traveling with an enemy. For the first time, he saw Ravenna as a human instead of just a witch. Ravenna didn’t mind, although she knew a great deal about the monsters herself, so Duncan’s wealth of information was mostly redundant. Ravenna mostly just listened. She didn’t have much to say to Duncan, as she was still rattled from his threats after the empathic incident. Duncan’s ramblings on monsters served as a way to keep the trip from growing silent.
Night soon drew near as the sun began to set in the east. Before it disappeared over the horizon, they stopped and decided to make camp for the night. Camp would consist of a small fire to keep warm by, and the hard ground for a bed. Ravenna would sleep near the fire they had made so that she could stay warm. Duncan, however, opted to stay further out from the fire. He liked the cold. Loved it. Thrived in it. They sparsely spoke as the sun set over western Rivania, each one occupied with their thoughts.
Ravenna couldn’t believe how much her life had changed in a day’s time. One moment, she was living peacefully in the forest, practicing magic, and the next; she was roped into a quest of vengeance by a man who would rather see her dead than let her live in peace. Ravenna wanted no part of it, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that Duncan might actually need her, whether he knew it or not. Ever since the empathic touch, Ravenna was certain that Duncan need not be alone. Was she supposed to help him? She was so unsure.
Duncan had also been thinking about the empathic touch. He couldn’t believe he’d let her get that close to be able to use it on him. His misstep had allowed not just anyone, but a witch, to see his innermost emotions. She felt what he felt. She had felt something beyond the rage and the wolf. She found the sorrow he felt for Asha, and that is what troubled him. Those feelings, those emotions, were private and not to be shared with just anyone. He was furious that magic had touched him. Had he not been wearing Asha’s pendant, he may not have been able to resist it as quickly as he did. Still, he wondered something. She could have used her magic to try and kill him and escape back into the woods, yet she didn’t. Instead, she used it to see beyond the façade. In Duncan’s experience, witches would use their magic to their advantage every single time, but Ravenna did not. She used it most unexpectedly. This got him thinking about their encounter with the logroth back in the woods. Ravenna could have easily left him for dead. He had been ill-equipped for the fight and found have perished if not for her intervention. Instead of letting him die, she burned the creature alive and saved his life. He couldn’t figure out why she had done this. It was a mystery to all but Ravenna. These thoughts kept Duncan awake for most of the night.
The next morning, they both awoke, wordlessly put out the fire, and
continued along their way towards the village of Dawn.
Dawn was a small village in western Rivania named because it was the first part of Rivania to see the sun as it rose in the morning. Duncan and Ravenna approached Dawn, seeing its small buildings on the horizon. Dawn was simple. They had what they needed and they got by. They weren’t extravagant, and that was ok.
It was after midday when Duncan and Ravenna reached the village of Dawn, and they were met by the sounds of panic. People screamed in the distance and anyone they saw sprinted by as if running for their very lives. One such person was running towards Duncan and Ravenna. Duncan grabbed him by the arm before he could get away.
“You. What’s happening here?”
“Ahhhhhh!” the villager screamed out. “L-let me go!”
“I’ll ask again. What is happening here?” Duncan asked with a harder edge to his voice.
“Monsters!” The villager replied. “They’re attacking the village!”
“Sounds like you’re in need of a monster hunter,” Duncan said, drawing Black Ice from its sheath. “Where are the beasts?”
“That’s easy,” he said almost breathlessly. “Just go the direction that everyone is running away from.”
Duncan started off, not quite running, as it wasn’t his style, but walking with purpose towards where people were running away from. Ravenna still stood where she was. She stopped the fleeing villager with one last question. “What kind of monsters are attacking you?”
“I don’t know, lady…” the villager began before fleeing once more. “…But they looked like the living dead.”
Duncan rushed towards one of the monsters. They moved slowly like their bodies weren’t meant for rigorous movement. They looked dead and rotting and pursued the living as if hunting for a meal.
“Necroforms,” Duncan uttered. “Guess the burials didn’t stick.”
Necroforms were monsters usually brought about by a necromancer. They still held some image of the person they’d been in life but deformed by dark magic. Their rotted skin was dark and they shambled as if they had forgotten how to walk and were learning for the first time. Skin dropped away from the bodies in strips. All of these were telltale signs of necromancy. Necromancy was just one of many forms of magic that Duncan found unsavory. It also happened that it could be learned, even mastered, by a witch. Duncan looked at the chaos sowed by the necroforms, and he thought to himself that something was off. This attack didn’t feel like it was about the village. He felt like it was about him. Perhaps this was staged by the witch he was hunting as a way to lead him to her. She was goading him. Provoking him into dropping his guard to race after her. He couldn’t afford that. He would follow the trail carefully and find the witch. First, he needed to cut down the living dead bodies that shambled all over the village of Dawn.
Gripping Black Ice, he rushed at the closest body and sliced it at the waist, causing the torso to slump to the ground with a thump. One down, many more to go. Duncan noticed that they were coming from a singular place: the graveyard for everyone in Dawn. These bodies were the long dead, or in some cases, the not-so-long dead of Dawn. If Duncan wanted a shot at ending the necroforms for good, he would need to make his way to the graveyard. The answer would be there.
Duncan, brandishing his sword, cut through the shambling dead one by one. Each step brought him closer to the graveyard of the town. The necroforms were slow and clumsy, no match for Duncan and Black Ice. The Blacksteel blade cut through every dead body that walked towards Duncan.
As Duncan cut a path to the graveyard, Ravenna looked around. Her instinct was to help those in need, and with the village under attack, it was a good bet that people were hurt. She ran the opposite direction as Duncan, following the villagers until she came to a place where they were all gathered. It was a cave near Dawn, and the villagers holed themselves up in the cave, while able-bodied men with swords guarded the entrance. They raised their swords at Ravenna when she approached.
“I mean you no harm,” She softly spoke. “My name is Ravenna. I’m here to help.”
The swordsmen looked untrusting. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? I can tell just by your eyes,” one of them said.
“I am a witch, but I’m one of the nice ones.”
“What nice ones? The last witch that came through here raised all the corpses in their graves to feast on us. Far as I can see, there are no nice witches.”
‘You’re as bad as Duncan,’ she thought. “Is anyone hurt?” she said aloud.
The hysteria of the crowd began to die down to a steady stream of people saying “No” or “I don’t think so” save for a few people who’d gotten a little too close to necroforms during their run to the cave.
“Let me help these people,” Ravenna said to the men-at-arms who guarded them. “If I do harm, then you may take my head.
The men-at-arms looked at each other, then lowered their blades so that she could pass. She walked past them, into the cave, and towards the people who’d been injured. None of the injuries looked particularly bad, but they still needed treatment. Ravenna could do that much. Healing magic was among some of the first magicks that witches usually learned. It was less magic and more herbalism, but there was still something magical to it all, something that only witches seemed to be able to accomplish. Before she began, she uttered some incantations to raise a circle of protection around the villagers in the cave. This would keep any necroforms that Duncan missed from finding them. She reached into the bag she carried with her and pulled out some herbs to begin the healing process.
Each of the injured people had cuts and scrapes. Some were from the necroforms and some were simply from falling. Luckily, the basics of healing each wound were generally the same. Ravenna took the herbs and crushed them in her hands. She rubbed the crushed herbs on each person’s wound, and the oils from the herbs sank in. It made the wounds sting a little, but not enough to where anyone thought she was doing harm. Next, she touched each wound and said a word under her breath, too low for anyone to hear. Each time she did this, the wound would grow hot as if something was burning the oils from the herbs slowly. Although they didn’t know, this wasn’t far from the truth. The oils were being consumed by magic, taking away the impurities and infections with it. Ravenna had used her magic to make the curing process begin, but she would need to cover up the wounds. There were a total of three people who needed bandaging. She could do without three scraps of cloth.
Ravenna tore at the dark cloak that she wore. Three scraps of cloth in total she ripped off to use for those in need. She bandaged each person’s wound and allowed them to heal “All finished,” she said.
The swordsman from earlier spoke up “Maybe you are a good witch. You helped our people when you didn’t have to. You have my thanks.”
Ravenna smiled and thought that the only thing that would have made it better was if Duncan had been there to see it.
Duncan wasn’t there to see it, however. He was busy striking down necroforms all the way to the graveyard. A trail of bodies led to the graveyard, all cleaved clean in half by Black Ice. He had made it to the graveyard, but now he needed to find the source of the necroform’s reconstitution. The witch had caused it, obviously, but she was no longer here. To bring back the dead as necroforms, either the necromancer must be present, or they must have left a magical artifact that emanates the foul death-defying magic. Duncan knew the latter must be true. If the witch he hunted had buried something in the graveyard, it could be bringing the dead to the surface to attack the village. He would find it and pierce it with his Blacksteel blade.
Most of the graves had been disturbed at Dawn’s burial site, but there was a pile of dirt, undisturbed but still fresh as if it had been tilled recently. Duncan noticed this with his wolven eyes and immediately set out to dig up whatever was underneath the dirt. He pulled out what seemed to be an azure amulet. It thrummed with magic, and foul magic by the feel of it. He could sense that much. This was surely left by the witch. Dun
can figured she must have stopped here and done this foul deed, knowing that Duncan would follow. It was like a taunt, leading him to her. It said to him, ‘Here I am, Wolf. Come get me!’
He tossed the azure amulet on the ground and held his sword directly above it, blade facing down. With one thrust downward, the sword pierced the metal amulet and the magic burst out like a wave. Any remaining necroforms that shambled through Dawn fell to the ground, dead again, and the amulet almost seemed to die itself, despite that it wasn’t even living. The job was done, and Duncan knew he would likely not get any coin for his trouble. But at least he knew they were on the right track. The witch was close, likely in Hammerforge where they suspected. She had definitely been here, and Duncan thought that maybe that was enough payment. Anything to help him get closer to ending the witch who cursed him. Maybe, just maybe, he could end the curse as well. He hoped for that much at least.
Duncan walked down the dirt path from the graveyard atop the hill and back down into the town. There was no one around to be seen, but he could hear the people off in the distance, thanks to his wolf-like hearing. He followed the noise until he came to a cave near the outskirts of the town. There he found the people of the town along with Ravenna. He had wondered where she had run off. The people seemed to be celebrating her in some form. “Necroforms are taken care of,” Duncan said, breaking up the celebration.
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