by D.E.P.
Light began to form and the appearance of shadows disappeared into the light. The whispering blonde swirls of hair and the jewelry that clashed against each other did not pertain to no other than the mysterious woman they had met before. She held a finger to her watered lips as to motion the four not to speak a word in the light darkness inside her dominion. Her steps walked through the hut as she peered through the tattered black sheets that covered the dirty windows. Her silent gaze waited patiently until she walked back to the others.
“There was no need…,” began the king as he began to slowly rise up, helping Invicta with the sleeping beauty.
“The witches are not someone you wish to be enemies of. I only help because I know the woman you carry. As a little orphan girl, Cecidit took me into her own arms. Until the catastrophe that took over her, of course. This is the little I can do to repay my debt,” she stated with sadness. A reassuring smile surfaced on her face as she ran her hand through the hair of her guardian. “They have gone to the graves. Knowing how stealthy they are, they have most likely left two of them to guard the boat,” hurried the young woman.
She hassled through the hut, sinking her fingers deep into walls. As if quicksand, her fingers felt inside until retrieving a small silver box with a golden finish. The hyacinth released its grip on Magni’s collar, as it slowly walked to sniff the substance inside the containment. The woman fanned her hand in an attempt to push the hyacinth away from her feet with little success.
She paused for a moment, having her back facing the others. Then she slowly turned, placing the box onto the dark reddish side table against the wall. “Cecidit gave me this once ago, telling me it would serve well one day. In it she had placed a vile with a bright pink color just before her body was no more. Now I know the time has come for its purpose,” stated the woman as she brought the small vile upwards to the light. She watched as the small pink liquid crystals sparkled with the light source. Shaking the vile in a calm slow motion, she uncapped the clear crystal plug shaped as a skull.
“Why did you not awaken her?” questioned Glacies abruptly. She did not quite trust the woman just yet. Could it be that she destined the bone for herself?
“Years passed and none knew of the secret she had possessed. Magic has its downfalls, of course. It was a curse that prevented all from entering through the black roses entwined around her grave. We could not speak unless questioned about it through souls of innocence or the destiny possessed. Our powers were useless to her defenses until unknown strangers came into our presence,” she stated motioning with her eyes towards the four.
Invicta pulled Cecidit upwards as her body fell against his armored chest. “Where is the wound?” the woman questioned as she stared into the blank expression of her guardian.
“At the most vulnerable part of her body, the heart,” stated Fortis, “I punctured it with the bone as legends spoke of.”
“It is saddening how some believe it is only stories, unlike reality. I will drip the droplets of the pink juice into the wound made. Hold her tight, for she will spring forward in rage. She is not asleep, but awake. Cover her mouth!” ordered the woman as she searched for the heart beneath the black dress. Moving the tip of the vile towards the ground, small drops found their way towards the golden wound until disappearing deep inside.
Cecidit’s eyes opened, drastically expressing the feeling of aggression as they began to pulsate with small golden veins that swelled with a new dimension. Her body pulsated with vigor as she attempted to pull herself upwards to unleash her wrath against her holders. Invicta thrust Cecidit’s arms to the ground as she attempted to pull the foreteller to clash against her own skull. Cecidit drooled immensely, having the slobber fly around herself as Invicta thrust her head from side to side in deep frustration. “How long is this supposed to undergo. You know the witches will return.”
“Do not tell me what I already know! Until the crystals find their way deep into the heart, she will continue her unconscious stance. You have killed the curse, but it is still to endeavor escape,” screamed the woman with a frustration of her own as she pushed Cecidit’s forceful legs hard to the wooden ground.
Cecidit began to widen her eyes in distress as her once light appearance turned into a breathless expression. Her lips began to swell as her face began to turn into a darker tone. She settled her moving body, calming herself between painful breaths until she began to choke between tears. Invicta looked up to the eyes of Cecidit without questioning her motives.
“I do not know what is happening,” the foreteller stated as she pushed hard against Cecidit’s throat. She opened her mouth, hoping that Cecidit’s lungs would find air through the large opening.
“Have you poisoned her?” yelled Invicta with deep rage, his face tightening with goldness.
“Do not accuse me! How should I have known of its effects?” screamed the woman at Invicta. Only Cecidit lay in the center between the rages of the two.
Fortis retrieved his sword, swiveling it so that the hilt of the spade faced the ground. Swiftly, he thrust the hilt to come pounding onto the wooden floor, causing a loud powerful sound. “Shouting is not going to make the difference between life and death. We must go to Death for an answer. It is the only way,” stated the king as he began to move to the entrance of hut.
“Fortis, I cannot say I trust Death as much as I used to. Will he not want her dead more than anything? You of all know of her past,” stated the woman as she saw the king carefully opening the door knob of the cracked door.
“I do know that Death has secrets of his own,” he stated softly as he opened the door ever so slightly as he peered in a small crack. Shadows lurked from far away. Still they would see them.
“We have no capsules left, what must we do? Is there another way out?” questioned Glacies as she placed an arrow into her bow. She strummed the string with anticipation.
“Go through the back door. It is a door, only believe and you will see,” stated the woman as she quickly rose up from her kneeled position. Running to a small sink, she reached into the side where a small black stove sizzled with bright red coals. She opened the small door, exposing two small loafs of greenish moist bread. Swiftly, she grabbed a white cloth from a drawer, carefully wrapping the bread within the white fabric until it was fully covered.
“Some things are best without the excess of magic. Don’t be fooled by its small size. Even a small crumb can sustain life for several hours,” she stated after a long silence as she motioned for the door that only appeared on acts of belief. Invicta grabbed the loaf of bread, grinning at the woman as if forming a truce while Magni took the position of holding Cecidit.
All three went through the door that was seemingly not there until finding themselves outside along with the hyacinth who had followed. The back of the hut was not much different from the front side. The thin pieces of black wood stacked upon each other was the composition of the huts. There was little space in the backside of the hut, especially since the long green plants scraped and scratched at whatever was near. Small insects of deep annoyance did not fail to touch the ends of their ears as they slowly made their way across. It was still slightly dark, yet a glow of green continued illuminating their path towards the waters.
“I hear snickering,” stated Glacies as she stopped in front of the others. Her palm faced the others as if stopping them from proceeding any further.
“I smell something awfully peculiar amidst,” stated a voice.
“Awe so do I. Then they are here. Are they not? Those foolish witches thought they would continue westward did they not? Now we must take the bone for ourselves!” screeched another voice far more high pitched than the other.
“Oh I can almost taste the drops of sweat dripping down their chins. It is not a matter of when to kill them but how,” stated the other witch.
“I feel their prying eyes staring at us. Hand me the eye, sis!” stated a high pitched voice.
“Oh but wait! They are listening ever so quietly. Such th
ings must be done delicately,” stated the sister as she rose up. Only a flicker of her black cloak was seen as she walked forward.
“I smell death, do you not skull?” asked the other sarcastically to Death. There was no response from his part as he only smiled with enthusiasm.
“What must we do?” Glacies whispered.
“The wisest thing to do would be to keep the eye, yet it would see all,” stated the king.
“Can we not puncture it, blinding the two at once?” asked Invicta with a frown.
“No, of course not. The eye must be powerful or it would not have been so easily used. Have it go in the waters, there the eye will guide the user,” answered the king.
He closed his eyes as he spoke ancient words once again with an expressionless face. He did this until he heard the cries of the witch as her eye ball came out from her socket.
“What happened sister?” the other asked as she jolted forward with nothing but her blindness to guide her. Her wrinkled face and closed eye socket throbbed as she searched for the eye within the ground.
“They have it, my sister! The four with the bone!” she screamed with utter anger and defeat.
“Let us show them the power of two blind sisters and the third they have so deceivingly grasped,” stated the witch with the high pitched voice that caused a painful throb to the listeners’ ears. They quickly found their way by voice, clasping their hands into the others. They began to chant, causing green smoke to glide around their frozen state. Faster and more violently the smoke began to rise around them until their figurines began to disappear beneath the shade of green.
“The eye is in my hands,” stated the king, “They know it is here.” Fortis clutched the ball with the palm of his hands. A small amount of thick mucus found its way to the ground, causing the dirt to moisten. As if a muscle of its own, the eye reluctantly began to move around violently. As it turned, the king quickly covered the pupil before staring into the dark center for merely a second—an accident too small to miss.
“Ah, I see his face, quite handsome indeed. A pity it will rot like the rest,” stated a voice too close to miss.
“Now my sister, it is time!” screamed the other voice as the green fog began moving closer. The king did not look up, only tightening his eyes all the more while whispering words not known to the others. His face, once expressionless, now shown passionate as the words slipped from his bittering lips.
The faces of the witches, now fully visible from within the clouds of green, laughed with impishness. Each face bore an empty socket in which the eyeball was so carefully positioned, that is, until the eye was stolen from their bony fingers. Glacies, however, was quick to shoot an arrow deep into the throat of the witch with the loud screeching voice. But it was not meant to be, for the face quickly faded, only showing the arrow in its frozen position until disappearing along with the impression of the figure. Glacies wrinkled her nose in irritancy as she screamed louder than the witches.
The king, however, did not open his eyes during the chaos. He waited for the correct moment to unleash the power he had so carefully built up.
“Sister, make it rain upon them,” stated the screeching sister.
The king rose up, “Do you not want your eye?”
“Give it to us along with the bone and no harm will be done,” stated the witches at the same time, their voices intertwining in an odd manner.
“It shall be! Death, catch!” stated the king as he threw the eyeball with great force towards the area in which the boat lay. The eyeball hit the interior of the boat, bouncing upwards into the jaws of the skull as it bit it ever so softly.
“You fool!” screamed one of the sisters. “I cannot say I was not going to kill you if you had given me my possession. After all, I could kill you now!” she yelled as her arms appeared before them. She thrust her hands high in the air until swiftly lowering them with dominance. The green particles composing the fog rised upwards, swirling much like the funnel created in the graveyard until it began dripping from above. Small poisonous droplets found their way towards the ground, towards the feet of the individuals to prey on. Their reflection showed not the faces of horror, but gnashing of teeth in the middle of each drop of acid.
“Droplets of stridor,” whispered the king more to himself than to the others. With calamity, he swiftly opened his tightly clenched hands, exposing a blue force much too strong to oversee.
Glacies blocked her sight with her elbow, as she faintly saw a strong and bright blue light open around her. The strange force formed much like a transparent globe with a touch of blueness, blocking the droplets of green acid as they raced into the force with no success. The odd small teeth in each droplet moved with frustration, their fierce sharp canines unable to puncture the bubble that protected all inside. As each teardrop fell to the ground, each watched as the teeth began to throb on each grain of sand until most of it disappeared. A deep burrow stretched along the protective force; the droplets failed to sink their teeth into flesh, diminishing without the moistness of each drop into the dirt below.
Fortis blinked once before stretching both his arms in opposite directions as if collapsing the force around him. As if obeying, the protection quickly disappeared along with the green fog around them. Glacies released her grip on the hyacinth’s thick skin until the bristles of hair that had warmed the sides of her fingers disappeared from existence.
“Find the eye, sister! I cannot see, only the mouth of the dreadful skull!” screamed one of the sisters at the other end.
The witch with the high pitched voice walked blindly towards the boat, scratching at its surface until finding the skull that boldly stood at the front. The skull was not as generous, however. With a quick relaxation of its jaws, the ball rolled to the side of the boat until swiftly falling into the light green waters in which a stir of souls began to surface. Hearing the splash, the witch blindly dove into the waters along with the eye, never to resurface again.
“Sister!” cried the other with defeat until somewhere, somehow, the witch saw the death of her own sister. The souls of both woman and men grabbed hold of the witch, dragging her against the boulders underlining the waters. Within a few minutes without breath, the weak lungs gave in to a blind death within the waters, accompanying the numerous skulls and bones tousled at the base of the stream.
Before the blind witch could cry once more or bury the others with her fury, the king threw his axe, watching the purple light as it drifted in green air until slowly sinking into the wicked witch’s neck. The body fell to the ground, no longer suffering from the death of her own sister but of her own. Her frightening bare eye socket laid open as small insects began to climb the outskirts of her decaying body.
“It is time! We must leave at once!” yelled the king as he feared the shadows that continued approaching from the graveyard they had only escaped from. Surely they had sensed and possibly heard the loud screeches before the result of a puddle of reflecting liquid.
“Not so fast!” objected the skull as it stared its beading blank eyes at the flustered king.
“The bone is within my hands! Move the boat at once!” yelled the king at the calm skull. The skull shook its head, for it had no fear of the witchs’ approaching steps.
“Hand me the bone as I had demanded of you! Only then will you escape the witchs’ clutches. Who have you there? The stench is oddly familiar,” stated the skull with confusion.
“This is not the time. What use is a bone to you? You of all people should know of the woman you so truly loved!” yelled the king with a raging anger. He threw the returned axe to the base of the boat, not merely looking downward to see the jagged edge produced. Quickly, the old and cracked boat returned to its previous form, releasing the axe from its once dominant stance.
“Is it truly who you speak of? How could I forget a curse coming from such a woman! I loathe her tremendously. She has deceived me, that woman! I will see what will become of her once I am who I was before. Repeat aft
er me, the ancient language of the magical arts, as you point the tender bone at my figure,” stated the skull rapidly. It seemed as if a small amount of drool slowly escaped the clenched mouth, dripping down the white bone until hitting the base of the boat with a loud splat.
“It was the curse of your own rod that transformed her! And here you lie at your own misery,” the king stated before waiting for the skull to speak an enchantment to release him from his own dreadful curse. The words spiraled through the air as meaningless as the claws of the trees that scraped the air. It was not wording known to all, but only to the truly ancient ones. As the king spoke the wording aloud, the ruby eyes of the skull began to brighten with mischievousness. But the power of such a smile did not last for long as the last word was spoken without success.
The skull looked down with defeat, not knowing the cause of such a failure. It scanned the environment as if searching for answers when it was known to be meaningless from the beginning. Already, the screaming voices of the witches were heard as they neared the diminishing dock before them. The skull looked up, slightly angered as it spoke once again, “It is the woman you carry! What folly is this? For she has kept the language through her own mouth to do such makings. Hand her here, her body only throbs for the soul to be slowly released. Yet, I need her to speak for my sake,” replied the skull with a deep irritation, not taking into consideration the witches that seeked revenge.
The skull looked deep into the waters, searching for a prime power deep under the surface. With a whisper of words unheard by the others, the skull caused the water’s surface to bubble infuriatingly until the bubbles that formed were no more than a sheet of light green rising upwards. Soon, the wrinkly faces of most of the witches were not to be seen. Their eyes, shrewd and bold, diminished with the last of the green covering.
“It will only hold them for so long,” stated the skull as he returned to gaze upon the divine woman lying on the base of the boat, emotionless from afar.
The skull shook his head with discomfort, knowing the worst of his worries was yet to come. Silent as the boat was, the skull began to whisper several phrases with seemingly no effect. Yet, towards the distance, it could be certain that the waters began to vibrate, producing shimmering ripples on the reflection of the scattering claws nearly touching them. As the skull continued its devotions, more ripples began to take shape as they moved closer to the source of the sound.
Nearly close to the boat, only a body length away, the several souls began to walk upon the surface of the waters. Their expressionless faces seemed close to the appearance of the few zombies that roamed the deserted landscapes of the land. The souls did not smile, nor did they blink their eyes on their green gloomy figure. Yet, the skull began to higher his voice, as if commanding the souls in his clutches to swirl around the boat. As the four watched, they saw that the souls’ figures looked no more as they had been. Instead, they took the appearance of green blurs of light encircling the boat.
Glacies watched with wonder while a slight emotion of confusion dominated her facial expression. She looked to her side at the sleeping figure of Sicarius. She fiddled with the short strands of pitch black hair, only to quickly stare into the eyes of the hyacinth that sat at her defense.
Invicta, curious and daring as always, made it his destiny to touch the few spirits close enough to the boat. An arm, limp as can be, fell from the swirl until Invicta swiftly touched the fingers that motioned for his disposal. The green fingers wrapped around his, attempting to pull him deep into the air along with the other souls. Invicta quickly brushed his fingers along the smooth portions of his armory, not expecting the odd sensation that throbbed beneath his skin.
A green liquid of color formed in the middle of the green whirl of souls. Obediently, the green power in the middle of the darkness, lowered until inching downwards towards the base of the boat. Slowly, the large sphere began to diminish in size and shape until flowing with the wind around it. Yet, the source was guided rather dominatingly towards the limp body of Cecidit.
The skull turned his beading eyes once again to his former soul mate, yet he did not smile, for such happiness was easily forgotten and not easily remembered. Only one word was left for the curse to be ridden of until it slipped from the skull’s glossy teeth, causing the body to rise on its own. Cecidit’s mouth opened as a cloud of dark purple slowly eased out of her body, making room for the green cloud to enter. The embroidery wrapping along her slim figure elevated on the edges of her shoulders.
“Torva, is it you that seeks the power of the bone you so cunningly bestowed me?” stated Cecidit as her eyelids opened, exposing emerald jewels that sparkled all the more due to the immense glow of the souls around them.
The skull clenched its jaw, moving it from side to side to produce an odd sound. “It is I, the one you deceived!”
“It was not I that deceived you, Torva, but the ancient bone. It must lie deep in the waters, never to be touched again,” stated Cecidit as her eyes became the normal green color they once were. She stepped onto the base of the boat, slightly kneeling herself to the skull’s level.
“It was one of my greatest possessions, yet you were by far more worthy than that. If it is as you say, it cannot be destroyed, but hidden by all. Release me of the curse you unwillingly brought upon me. For Cecidit, I have longed your company,” stated the skull silently before the loud screams of the witches behind the cluster of the disappearing barrier.
“It will be done as you say. For years I have been asleep, yet here I am with the one that gave me life once again,” she stated as she grabbed the bone from the hands of the king. She tightened her fingers along the thin object, embracing it far more than it was worthy of. She looked upon the ground in agony, yet her watering eyes looked forward as she pointed the bone at the skull that had for years wandered on nothing more than a boat.
Quickly slurring her words in a precise manner, Cecidit released the power of her wordings through her moist pale lips that shivered with the power they bestowed. The bone she held so tightly in her hand began to release a mixture of small white particles moving across the atmosphere with the wind’s movement. Slowly the white fragments began to combine into solid pieces of bone. First the ribs were connected, then the skeleton arms and legs, until what was left was a floating skeleton body by the side of the boat.
“It is to be,” stated the skull, realizing his body would never take the same figure it was destined to be. The skull began to drastically vibrate as it promptly shot into the air, swiveling until being connected to the skeleton body that had awaited such a prize.
The enchantment did not end there, however. A thin lining, like a semitransparent sheet, did not fail to cover the rough and protruding bones. His head tilted downwards as he saw his once bony body being covered with a black shimmering cloak that swayed drastically with the wind’s current. Lastly, his face began to take the form of a pale face, one of which contained long black strands of hair that covered his forehead with a sway. His face was quite simply composed, nothing too much to withstand and not too little to become bored when looked upon. He smiled bitterly as he stared at his reflection from the waters bellow, remembering his prime object of divinity.
Death, also known as his ancient name Torva, lowered his hand towards the water as if to grab an object. Instead, however, the waters began to vibrate, providing small shimmers and ripples throughout the now calm stream. But then something protruded from the waters. It was not a spirit or merely a fish from the deathly domain, but a staff that had once fallen deep beneath the pits. Slowly, the small black sphere atop a shiny shadowy purple stick began to surface the waters, bearing the purple clouded magic stored inside. A touch of anyone but Death himself would cause a burn beneath any surface protecting the skin. The staff elevated to the hovering body until a cold hand clenched the simple source of power.
Torva did not waste time, for it was time that prolonged death. He faced the now clear barrier he had ordered Fortis to sp
eak upon. Now the barrier was merely a clear form slowly failing to defend itself against the blows of magic from the fuming witches on the other side. The witches would thrust their hands back until pushing the colored force against the force only Death himself was able to create. The king had only produced the voice for his making. Now the spheres of power that left the witches sunk deeper into the barrier until one of them managed to escape to the other side.
Torva turned around; a menacing expression covered his face as he narrowed his eyes in frustration. He held his staff upwards to the little light that began to disappear along with the spirits nearing their home beneath the waves. He directed his power towards the sphere that slowly began to move its way towards its primates. Small strands of fire emblazed around the sphere as the flames flickered in their hovering stance. Without further due, the sphere of power that had once seemed worthy even to dominate Death himself, slowly was enclosed with the pounding of the green murky waters.
He thrust his staff towards the shield once again, having his cloak continue to elevate along with his wrath. As if shattered, the strange force that had protected the little life disappeared below. The witches, frail as can be, stared into the eyes of their deceiver. Shocked as they were, one of them swayed her hand from side to side while whispering an incantation from beneath her dry chapped lips. A small blue light source formed as she flicked it with her hand towards Torva who had failed to see the devious witch before him. Cecidit, fully awakened by her recent quandary, swiftly shot her hand towards the magical element, having it hover in the air before falling like an object with an awkward splash down below.
“Do not have me rethink your destinies at this prime moment!” yelled Torva with a renewed strength, his raspy voice echoing through the damp atmosphere.
“You have caused us enough pain already! Yet you are the only one who lives while the rest of us are left to die! We will die only in vain if we don’t put you beneath the waters in which you bury death!” snickered one of the witches by the decaying dock. The elderly woman’s overly large nose pointed slightly downwards as if made by an overwhelming amount of spongy cartilage.
“Do not tell me what I have done. Was it not you who had preyed upon the bone that was taken from you?” Torva pointed his staff threateningly at the crowd.
“It was a gift from you. It was a gift that has put us in ruins!” others screamed against the power of Death himself. Their frail voices drifted with the wind currents around them until all they saw was a mere reflection of themselves upon the green murky waters.
It was that simple. Torva had moved the palm of his hand around the sphere that dominated the power of his staff. Whispering a few wordings himself caused the waters to move the small boat away from the wrath of the witches, leaving a trail of profound white fog to overwhelm the witchs’ sight.
“What is done is done. Fortis, I am not more on your side than I am on Malum’s. When death seems near a person, I only come to take that weak life away, nothing more,” stated Torva as he sat down on the small boat that slowly made its way further from the witchs’ domain.
“It is a shame. Malum will only cause more death upon the land. Is that not what you seek?” questioned the king.
“It is not so,” stated Torva as he frowned upon the ground, “I have had a complicated life, if any. Yet, I am neutral to all that comes and goes. I have no life myself, but a curse upon me. I am the only one suited for this contract as you can see,” he slowly smiled as he moved his hand towards Cecidit while his black cloak provided a large gap underneath his arm.
“Will you not keep your promise in awakening Sicarius?” questioned Glacies, slightly flustered of the idea of having a conversation with a half dead body by her feet.
“Patience. You have kept your share. It is nothing but a miracle that has given me life on this day. On this very day, from year to year, I will not divide body from soul or soul from body,” stated Torva as he held Cecidit’s soft hand.
He grabbed a cupful of fog before it landed on his chest. Blowing upon the fog, he produced a goblet made of bone with a profound red liquid that shimmered inside. After a drink from his creation, Torva looked upon Sicarius. Her body lay upon the ground emotionless with only her fingers curled tightly upon a sparkling blade.
Cecidit narrowed her stare, peering with renewed interest at the weapon that gleamed before her. She frowned all the more, yet she did not question what she saw. She only nodded to herself as the whispers of her golden hair spread above her glinting eyes. She knew the power of the twin blades she saw. There were two pairs of those daggers, one set that had been long forgotten. She looked upwards at the peering eyes of Glacies’s stare. “You heard the girl, breathe the life you have taken from her,” Cecidit stated as she tightened her grip on Torva’s hand.
“As you say,” he replied. He spoke the words that had caused the body to become petrified in its position. As he rose up, his cloak swept the base of the boat until it reached the feet of Sicarius. “Evigilabit Awake,” he spoke the last word of his incantation as he closed his shining objects of sight. He touched the stoned fingers of the woman whom had been frozen. The fingers slowly began wrapping upon the palm of the firm hand until the body was elevated to Torva’s height. Sicarius’s neck, still limp, began to elevate as her eyes swiftly awakened along with a loud gasp of air.
Her face widened as she peered into the eyes of Torva with nothing more than a frown. She slowly walked away, not noticing that Glacies stood behind her with the hyacinth pacing by her side. Her feet stumbled onto Glacies’s feet, causing Sicarius to turn her head slowly to eye the object behind her. She did not recognize most of the inhabitants on the small boat. She looked from side to side, not fully realizing the situation before her. The eyes continued staring onto her, not letting out even a breath from their questioning mouths. Their faces were horrid, searching for answers on a questioned body. Sicarius retrieved her daggers, holding them up to her chest as she peered around. “How long have I been asleep?” she screamed through the silent night. “Who are you people? Answer me!” she continued to shriek. But there was no answer from any of the dwellers who sat in the small boat.
“My king, is that you? Invicta? Magni? I do not know of what I see. Where is Glacies?” she questioned still as she frowned once again at the gaze from Glacies herself.
“It is I,” Glacies spoke slowly and calmly, “It has not been long you have been lifeless. Do you not remember the past events that lead to this one?”
Sicarius did not move, only to ponder on what the woman before her said. Was she truly the Glacies she spoke of? She certainly spoke and acted like her. Her bow clung to her side, the same bow that Glacies had used before…She was still in the Shadow of Death presumably. Yes, she had to have been. She had attempted to save Glacies’s soul from the clutches of Death himself. She swiftly looked at the corner of the boat, half expecting to see a grinning skull glaring at her with his ruby eyes. But the only figure she saw was one with a black cloak much longer than hers. His pale face showed no complexion of the matter. Yet, a small outline of a skull was only slightly visible beneath the thin surface that covered the bones. Could it be that Death itself was brought to the life he once had? She feared so.
A small wicked smile spread across her face as she relaxed her arms. “Why the silence? You made me believe we were all dead,” she stated smoothly before her reddened lips relaxed. Her eyes twinkled as she continued questioning the odd expressions upon their faces.
“It was us that thought you as dead,” smiled the king. The scene before him was all too shocking and swift to pass. Yet, he understood Sicarius’s confusion before the blank faces of the people she knew.
“Tell me, what have I missed?” she questioned as she sat down besides Cecidit.
“Right now is not the time, Sicarius. Only know that that I am Death, the woman beside you is Cecidit, and Glacies is who she says to be,” Torva stated with his seemingly blank expression. Sicarius slowly looked a
t the woman beside her. She had only merely seen a blurred image of her as she looked at Torva. But now as she looked into the green emeralds of the woman to her side, she soon began to realize that the woman was not as distant as she had thought her to be. Sicarius took out her blade, pointing directly at the neck of the one she had called a friend. “Are you not the one I once called a friend?” she questioned harshly. She tilted her head, her eyes aglow in a threating manner; yet, she smiled cunningly.
“It is I. I am deeply sorry, my long lost friend. I am not who I became,” Cecidit stated as she put her arm around Sicarius’s shoulder. A silent tear did not fail to drop from a vibrant green eye until it slowly dripped from her chin. She did not find the blade to be as threating as it was meant to be. She smiled awkwardly as Sicarius began to lower the blade she had not wished to dig into flesh.
“It has been far too many years that you have acted as an enemy of mine,” Sicarius stated rather coldly at first. She replaced her blade at her side, causing a chilly feeling to wrap around her body. She turned once again to Cecidit, “It does not mean we could not start once again,” she gave a hopeful smile as she gave the slightest touch to the woman’s hand that lay upon her crossed legs.
“A friend is one who slices the throat of all evil. Why did you not kill me when you had the chance?” Cecidit asked, knowing that Sicarius had spoken of the evil that would encompass her.
“A truer friend is one who evades the slice of a throat only to hope that all evil will evade. I did not know how you could be awakened and I tried desperately to forget the tragedy of our friendship,” stated Sicarius as she elevated her eyes onto Cecidit’s.
“I would have done the same. That I am sure you already know,” stated Cecidit as she curled her lips.
“That I am sure,” asserted Sicarius as she saw that the little light as there was seemed to become stronger as the boat moved forward. “Are we to go to Sapientem?” she questioned.
“Another path will lead to his domain,” stated Torva as he placed both his hands atop his upright staff. With a flicker, the purple clouds began to form ounce again beneath his fingers.
“It seem as if this journey turns to another path with each step,” stated Magni as he began to see the image of a large white mountain in the distance.
“While I thought this journey to be nothing more than a quest to protect the queen’s life, it has turned into a quest to defend ourselves from the wrath of Malum,” answered the king as he looked up to the skies that now showed a glint of purple.
“It has been so,” stated Invicta as he instead looked upon the cracks on the wooden base of the boat.
“It is something I long feared. I often ponder that if this journey was not taken I could have restored peace to the land before evil would have seeped through,” Fortis replied.
“It is not your judgment too make. Look at what we have gained! Are you blind to what you see? Surely it has been more than we anticipated,” said Magni as if encouraging the rest to lift their head up. But it was not so, for as the mountain resurfaced from behind the trees, it did not seem as if their journey would have any such thing as a happy ending. Dark clouds gloomed along the elevated lands that were placed rather randomly around the white mountain that rose from the ground. This was the land of the white apes, the wisest of all. Their mountains were not as mystical as it seemed, for it deprived most of their magic.
“No longer were there gnarling trees that stood the test of time. No longer was the stream a profound green color with skulls and spirits underlining the waterbed. No, it was much different now. The waters began to show a clear blue tone to them. The trees began to show signs of being winter, for their trunks stood silver and bold and the leaves that they had once bore now came falling ever so softly to the ground. It was already the beginning of winter, for the skies now began to show a mixture of colors.
“Sapientem uses much of the same enchantments as the trees to protect his own kingdom. He is the only one with the sole power, for he is the only one that created it. Therefore, magic is once again limited by our lips,” stated the king as he grinned.
“Then let us walk upon the mountains, for they do not seem to see the light of day,” stated Sicarius as she narrowed her eyes upon the glimpse of the mountain once again.
The boat neared a small shoreline formed into a tight circle. The small waves clashed against the white sand that made itself noticeable only with the reflection from the light of the day. The castle, now visibly seen, took moments to appreciate, for it was no ordinary building. Engraved on the side of the mountain itself, the white structure bore great power with a long enriching aqua waterfall that clashed mightily against the calm waters below. It seemed that the waterfall fell from within the castle, for it came streaming from a dark archway. The waters shimmered as new droplets fell upon the silent ones. It was clear that the castle was in nothing more than a peninsula in which a small thin stream found its way in the castle walls to be dismissed on the opposite side.
“I must leave you all here. There is much work to be done,” stated Torva rather suddenly as he tapped his staff lightly on the base of the ancient boat. The wood composing the boat creaked with the abrupt movement. The boat silenced in its path as it froze in its position by the shore.
“It shall be as you say,” stated Fortis as he eyed Torva’s mighty stare.
“Must we depart so soon?” questioned Cecidit as she peered onto the face of her soul mate.
“I cannot be entangled in the problems of the inhabitants of this land. It is beyond me to do such things. I am neutral to all. It was a terrible decision in my part to have a place for you in my heart,” he stated as he tightened his neck with regret.
“Even Death needs a fraction of such power,” stated Cecidit as she lifted her body upwards. “Nevertheless, I need a weapon to pierce a heart.”
Torva shook his head, “I cannot bestow you with what you seek. The bone I gave last was one of destruction only because it was not meant to be given. Do you not understand? It was a curse put upon you because of the laws I defied.”
“Let it be,” stated Cecidit as she grabbed a handful of zars from Invicta’s outstretched hand. “These will serve well,” she stated as she blew onto the sharp metal pieces, causing them to have a shallow glow of purple. It was clear that magic was allowed to function only within the waters. But once one stepped on land, any enchantment would be nothing more than breaths of useless air.
“The journey starts once again,” stated Magni.
“It has no end,” replied Sicarius as a small smile spread across her face.
The six of them stepped from the small boat, watching as the wooden piece shrunk to fit the one passenger that was left astray. “May death never find you,” he whispered under his breath as he saw them disappear into the mist of the nearby waterfall. The hyacinth’s tail was the last to be visible as it brushed the soft ground.
“I do not trust our presence here,” stated the king as his feet patted the ground.
“Nor do I,” stated Glacies as she placed an arrow into her bow.
Chapter 20
Shadows within the Snow
