Chapter 092:

Eluria smashed into the cold hard ground. She screamed in pain as she clutched at the remains of her foot. Anger boiled in her heart as she felt the still solid crystallised blood that had torn through her flesh. Never, never in her long life had she felt such pain. Not even when her master had thrown her into the Gyps Mire for the whole summer, to fend for herself in that festering swamp. She mentally recoiled at the rots and infections she had suffered.

The crystallised blood quivered and slumped off the stump that remained of her foot. The Blood Berserker, the short silver haired Clanswomen whore, was too far away to retain her control and the blood returned to normal. If she was nearby Eluria would not last another moment.

She glanced around, just to make sure that she was safe. There was no one else in the dimly lit stone cavern. She was alone and safe, even though there were two green teleportation marks slowly fading into the cold stone beneath her. Realisation hit her like a crashing wave of cold water.

Sancha was dead. Her daughter was dead.

No words came out, only a single long scream. A wail. The one person that she could rely on, the only person that she had successfully taught, the one person that actually managed to make her smile, was gone. She remembered the sword tearing through Sancha’s throat as Cetina, that horrendous bitch, and knocked her out of the teleportation markings. Before she could do anything she had teleported away. As she fled so quickly it meant she did not have time to create a continuous portal in Porswea. There was no way for her to get back anytime soon.

Tears flowed from her eyes as she slammed her fist onto the stone ground.

“Really?” A voice called out from the shadows. “I thought you were better than a petulant child.”

Eluria scowled as she looked up at the source. A pair of figures emerged through the dim light. One was dressed in a full grey robe with a golden tasselled belt hanging from her waist. Even her hands were covered by extremely expensive soft grey leather gloves. The other woman wore nearly identical red robes, with another golden tasselled belt.

“Fuck off Terentia.”

Terentia smiled and knelt beside her. “Looks like you’ve lost your foot.” A teasing smile crept over her face as she poked at the still bleeding stump. “Oh dear…Where did you lose it? That was very silly of you, wasn’t it?”

“I said fuck off!”

Terentia and Vistula chuckled.

“There’s no need to be angry.” Terentia cast a weak curse over Eluria’s wound.

Eluria tensed as she watched the green smoke coil around Terentia’s hand and slowly drifted to her foot. She grunted at the smoke touched her wound and began to do its work. The wound closed and fresh skin covered the stump that was now her foot. While she grit her teeth the pain was unbelievable, only slightly less than when she lost it in the first place.

Eventually, Terentia withdrew her hand and the pain stopped. At least she was not bleeding anymore.

“I could regrow your foot, but you know-”

“Yes…” Eluria nodded and slowly tried to stand up. “I can’t be unconscious for the next few days. Not right now.”

Terentia slowly nodded, a strange and bitter smile formed on her face. “Though, that might be better for you. Come.”

“How do expect me to walk with this?”

Terentia and Vistula shrugged and walked away. Eluria spat at the blood pool near her foot. When she had recovered more strength she would rebuild her foot. She dreaded the pain and anguish that would follow. At least during the terror-filled sleep, she would not remember Sancha’s death. Still, she could not walk like this. She weaved a simple curse on the stone. Small fragments of stone broke from the floor with the green smoke from her hands. She braced herself for the next part as she formed them roughly into a foot. She winced and rammed it into her stump.

“Fuck!”

The stone embedded itself into her skin. When the pain became bearable she slowly stood up. The stone shards hurt with the pressure she placed upon it but she would endure. As she took a few practice steps the pain became less, though it was a little difficult to move. It was of no concern right now. Terentia and Vistula’s presence concerned her the most. Why were they here?

Eluria sighed, pushed down the images of her daughter’s death, and hobbled towards the exit. Even though glowing crystals hanging from the ceiling gave out a warm glow the stone corridor walls felt impossibly cold against her skin. There were many sidings along the corridor, each leading a small cavern, just like the one she had arrived in. All were empty.

Ahead she could hear talking, an occasional burst of laughter. She continued to hobble through the stone corridor before she arrived at a massive cavern with a large wooden table in the centre, a massive Bright Crystal hanging from the ceiling. Thirteen chairs sat around the table, all bar four were filled. She knew why two were empty. The noise ceased as she entered. Everyone stopped and looked at Eluria. She felt utter revulsion at the looks upon their faces; pity, contempt and sneering pride. She held herself back from saying anything and moved to her seat.

“What happened to you?” A middle-aged man asked from the other side of the table.

Eluria said nothing as she took her seat at the table.

“Where is your protégé, Sancha?”

“Gone.” Eluria managed to say flatly.

“How is that possible?” He asked. “I do not think you would raise a weakling. Not after all your boasts, so long as they weren’t empty and filled with hot air.”

Eluria’s heart boiled but she held herself together.

“No. We-”

“And that is the reason that why we are here.” An elderly woman, sitting next to the man, spoke up with an incredibly scratchy voice. “Because you, Eluria, have fucked up. Badly.”

Eluria frowned. The woman was the leader of the Strega Witches, Elder Morgon. She had been very old when Eluria joined the witches, and that was nearly two hundred winters ago. Morgon was wrapped tight in an old shawl with a thick woollen coat underneath. She was virtually unrecognisable as the leader of their coven, though her sparkling green eyes spoke of the strength of will that lay beneath her slowing ageing body.

“No, I have not,” Eluria replied, much to Morgon’s annoyance. She was supposed to keep quiet until Morgon addressed her directly but she was not in the mood. “I have just lost my…daughter. But I don’t see how that’s any of your problem.”

Morgon leant back in her chair. “That is why you are here. That is why we are all here.”

Another woman, a very young one, with a pointlessly pretty face and body, leant forward. “Where is Harprax? I thought he would be here, he owes me some money.”

Terentia shook her head. “I’m afraid that he is trying to fix a delicate situation in Porswea. It seems that Cassius is no longer responding to any of our commands. And attempts to restore it have been…ineffective. I don’t know how long it will take to fix. If it’s even possible.”

The pretty woman frowned. “Someone didn’t cast a Repellent curse on him, did they?”

“No. He did not feel any pain when he tried casting. He described it like the curse simply bounced off.”

“Huh…I’ve never heard of that before. What could do that?”

Morgon shuffled again, the man sitting next to her gently thumped on the wooden table.

“That is something that we will have to discuss, but now we must focus on the current issue.”

“That’s not important?” Vistula asked.

“Of course it is.” Morgon snapped, the red robbed woman jumped back slightly. “But compared to what Eluria has done…”

Eluria kept her face flat. It was all that she could manage.

“Did you at least manage to find the eighth piece of the Frangitur Ira?”

Eluria shook her head.

Morgon was about to explode into one of her famous rages. Eluria usually found those quite funny, except those on the receiving end usually were dead by the end of it. Usually very badly.

“You had four…no, five winters to find one piece. And you have yet to find it.” Morgon shook her head. “Where you so enamoured with shagging that piece of meat you called a husband that you became distracted.” Morgon chuckled. “If it was I don’t particularly blame you. I’ve been there…when I was young.”

Eluria nearly flushed. While she had no feelings towards Duran she did enjoy him inside her. More than most men. Though that was the only thing that she missed. A male whore could easily satisfy that need.

“I could not find out where he was keeping it,” Eluria replied, slowly and carefully. “My magics could warp his mind but I could not break him. Not even after all that time. We know he was the only one that knew were it was so I couldn’t just kill him right away. I had to resort to more drastic measures at the end.”

“But…”

“I have not found it. However we managed to recover several other important artefacts while we travelled and I tried to extract it’s location. For all I know it’s still in Bebbezzar with the rest of the De Yascar’s. I’m certain he had it. I was sure of it…”

Morgon sighed. “Oh well. There is a possibility that we were wrong from the beginning. But at least it was not entirely wasted. Those other artifacts you found have been very usefull. We have been looking for the pieces since I was young…How long ago was that?”

Eluria felt her eye twitch as the other Strega Witches chuckled and sniggered amongst themselves, like a bunch of children. None had asked how Sancha had died, only accepting it as given that she was dead. That made her mad.

“My daughter is dead,” Eluria spoke through gritted teeth. “And I intend to see them dead for what they did to her. I know that we don’t often work together but I need help to see them punished.”

The whole table went silent. Everyone looked to Morgon.

“I’m afraid that would only make things worse.” Morgon sighed, looking far more tired than ever before. “I have spent time trying to smooth things over before they escalate. We cannot afford to go to war with them.”

“But no one can kill one of us, no matter how weak or powerful, and live.” Eluria spat back. “That was what you said yourself. Why is it suddenly different for me? Why am I denied justice for my daughter’s death? Those four fuckers are running about, merrily screwing and fucking their way across the countryside while I’m stuck here with-”

“The Redeemer has them marked.”

Morgon’s quiet words stopped Eluria dead. She looked at the thirteenth chair. That chair had always been empty, ever since she became an initiate. Everyone spoke of that chair belonging to someone very powerful, one powerful enough that Morgon trembled at their mention, but also someone that had abandoned their coven.

“What?” Eluria asked.

“You, Eluria, and your…unfortunately killed daughter, Sancha, attacked three people marked by The Redeemer.”

Morgon waved a bony hand, every finger was covered with rings which bristled with power. A large column of thick green smoke billowed from the centre of the table. The smoke solidified and three faces emerged. Eluria felt her blood boil as she recognised two, but the other was of a Beast-kin. Why a Beast-kin?

“These three have been marked by The Redeemer. The man, Anton, the Clanswoman, Verona, and the Half-breed Feline Beast-kin, Kal.”

Upon revealing the third person was a half-breed the entire table burst into conversation. Everyone began rapidly whispering to one another. Vistula and Terentia were the most surprised for some reason. Eluria was furious upon discovering that a Beast-kin had shot her daughter in the chest. Seeing all of them, together at once, brought her to the edge of lashing out.

“These three are, as of now, untouchable by us.”

“They attacked first!”

Morgon shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now. Besides, you were torturing the father of their friend.”

Eluria had nothing to say.

“I have just finished speaking with The Redeemer about this-”

“You actually spoke to that traitor?!” Another elderly woman spat out.

Morgon nodded. “Of course. You always need to keep lines of communication open. I…Barely, managed to convince her that it was not a deliberate act. That you and your daughter did not know. If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have made it more than a few steps after you landed. She was very quick to contact me and drag me into a vision link. But, now you do.” Dark green smoke coiled around her hands. Eluria had only witnessed Morgon’s magic twice when she fought. “And that means you cannot attack, or move against them. If you do we will all be destroyed.”

Eluria glanced around the table. Everyone looked worried, even Vistula and Terentia, two powerful mages on top of being elder witches. And none were willing to lift a finger to help.

She scrunched her fingers so tight that blood began to trickle out.

“I…I understand.” Eluria managed to spit out.

“Good.” Morgon slowly nodded. “Despite the situation, I am sorry about the loss of your daughter. She seemed like she could be a very powerful witch given a few winters. And a good person…”

Eluria said nothing.

Morgon coughed awkwardly. “So…With that little issue sorted I’m afraid that we need to continue to an issue that has become even more pressing than a battle with The Redeemer.”

Eluria raised a brow.

“Most of you would not be aware that giant creatures, Demons, have arrived in Porswea, inside Fort Acidava.”

“Thankfully they were dealt with but their arrival means something terrible is coming,” Terentia explained. “There was only one portal to their realm this time, one small portal that collapsed the moment the Demons passed through.”

“Now…” Morgan continued. “Now that they’ve begun their invasion beyond their main portal on the Isle of the Shifting Stones the walls between worlds have weakened. We need to get the remaining fragments before more stable portals begin to emerge. The Wood Elves have that controlled, for now. But more will emerge. But we have no idea when. So…we need those fragments before the situation becomes untenable.”

The young pretty woman threw a hand up. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that I was successful.”

Everyone, bar Eluria, looked at her with genuine and elated surprise.

“I was waiting for a gathering like this to hand it over.”

“You just wanted praise, didn’t you?” Vistula smirked, resting her chin on one hand.

The woman flushed vividly. “Perhaps. But, I do have it.”

She reached into her waist, hidden by the table, and brought out a small flat stone. The grey and white stone fit easily in the palm of her hand. Other than a few red markings on one side of the stone it looked completely unremarkable.

Morgon practically salivated at the sight of the stone. The stone was passed to her, everyone that it passed through took a moment to examine the stone. Eluria, despite not touching it, felt the immense power that radiated from the stone, more than anyone present wielded.

“Excellent, Pearl.” Morgon smiled at her. “Was the cold any problem for you?”

“No.” Pearl smiled sweetly. “A good set of thick furs, and a nice man, or men, to warm your bed is more than enough. Though, the Stone Men were quite difficult to get past. They don’t sleep or even blink. I’m a little worried about the Clansmen, actually.”

“Why?” Morgon asked, completely disinterested and slowly stroking the stone.

“Well…The Stone Men are leaving Eldfjall Trelleborg and rampaging throughout the countryside. I had to ditch my male companions when they surrounded us. They had already destroyed two villages when I left…”

Morgon shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Stone Men, Demons, even The Redeemer, pale in comparison to what we must face. If we fail it means the death of everything. So a few dead Clansmen mean nothing, regardless of how helpful they have been and terrible their plight may be.” She chuckled. “Of the twenty pieces we now have seventeen, so I’m feeling pretty good about today, all things considered.”

Hearing that, after knowing that she had lost her daughter on the same day, made Eluria almost snap. She had no intention of letting them get away with her murder. She would just have to be clever about it, attacking in a way that did not lead back to her. But who could do such a thing? None of them were weak, not even that whore Cetina.

I’ll have to be clever about this. There must be someone that wants them dead. I’ll just need to…help them help themselves.

Eluria felt a smile creep onto her face so she dove her head down and deeply rubbed her forehead. No one appeared to guess what she was thinking.

“So what now?” Vistula asked. “There’s still three more pieces, one we may know roughly the location of. Any clue of the remaining two?”

“Yes.” Morgon nodded. “One is likely in the Shadow Isles, hidden in the Dark Elf capital, which will require extreme caution and effort to recover. The last…Is hidden in the remains of the Kar Kingdom. Several miles south of the Capital lies a massive mine. I believe it has been hidden there. Recovered journals hint that is lies there. Where exactly it is, I do not have any idea. It could be several miles below the surface. If it is actually there. And with the collapse of the Kar Kingdom…” Morgon looked at the empty chair. “That will be exceptionally difficult and time-consuming. The Goblins in the area are plentiful and have recently begun breeding up rapidly so our movements there will have to be incredibly delicate.”

“Can’t we just force our way through?” Pearl asked sweetly. “A few hundred Goblins would not be a problem for us.”

“Not hundreds. Tens of thousands. Probably more.” Pearl and many of the witches paled ever so slightly. Despite their power, they could easily be overwhelmed by the thousands of screaming and scratching little rodents. And their abilities were very rarely ever…direct.

“And…And The Redeemer has also pointed out that the entire area is off limits to us…For now.”

Oh? Why now? You would have brought up something so important if you had known before you had spoken to The Redeemer. That means you’ve only just found out, while you were talking about those three. I guess I know where to start looking…

“So,” Morgon coughed again. “We will deal with that fragment last. I ask half of you to look into the De Yascar holdings in Bebbezzar and see what you can find, the rest head to the Shadow Isles and find their fragment. Do not hesitate to use any method to get what we need; money, intimidation, favours, it matters not. Especially when the fate of the world is at stake.”

Everyone nodded.

“Remember the oath our ancestors took. Always strive to fulfil her final wish.” Morgon looked at the ceiling. “By Tethra’s name, we will finish what she started.”

Every witch held their heads down and clasped their hands tight. “In Tethra’s name.”