Chapter 7: A Witch's Tale

The taste was strong, taking another chug from the purple mixture I gag in disgust, happy to finally be done with the accursed brew. If the craft worked for me like it did in my younger days, everything would go as planned. "Mother I don't understand why this slave is so important to you, there isn't anything special about him as far as I can tell." Sitting upon my stool my son sat lazily, arms folded behind his back. 

"You wouldn't understand the value in a rare soul such as his, maybe if you had listened and learned the craft you wouldn't be asking me such foolish questions." The stubborn boy refused to learn the ways of our predecessors, he was just like his father carefree yet sadistic. What she both loved and hated about her son. "Never mind that, did you remove the pendant like I told you?" looking up with the familiar devilish smile Wickum responded in a casual tone, "Of course mother, the necklace is no longer around the boy's neck, you are free to do whatever craft you like." 

"I can do no such thing!" I snapped, "His will remains unbroken, still too powerful to control. You're supposed to have broken him by now." Sitting up he strides behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders tenderly. "You need not worry mother; his spirit is nearly broken and if you command it, I'll be sure he doesn't last the day." With a grin, Wickum wrapped his arms around me from behind, before I slap his hands away. "Well, be quick about it, we don't need another escape attempt costing us precious stones." 

Sitting down I feel the fatigue from the brew and knew it was beginning to take effect. "What news do you have of the Liberators? What is their current location?" A deep frown sat upon his face as he sat up from his chair. "The beasts lost their trail, the incompetent fools. We have no clue where their hiding, or where they'll strike next." This couldn't be happening at a worse time, gazing into my crystal ball I search the void for clues to the fate of the boy, and if there will be any interruptions with the ceremony. 

Watching me the boy hovers over looking into the clear crystal, sighing with boredom, "There's nothing to worry about mother, I'll tighten the patrol around the camp. They won't slip past us." Peeking up from my ball, I look at my naïve son for a moment before continuing to gaze into the void, "Do you remember the stories I would tell you as a child, about the 7 moons who possessed 7 stars."  

It was a warm memory, before the war, before his father was taken so abruptly from him. When his eyes still carried radiance. Walking over to the table he sat beside his mother awaiting the remainder of the fable he had long forgotten. "No, I don't think I do. There are no moons in Layfront mother, night never comes. It hasn't for over 50 years. 

Lightly chuckling I halt my search and caress my son's boney face, "Of course, it was the time before magic. When crafts were learned from gods, over 500 years ago." Giving me a strange look, I could see he didn't understand. He was such a bright boy growing up, I don't know where I went wrong. Sighing I continue to tell the tale, "It's said that before the age of magic there were 7 moons, who each possessed 7 stars. The people of the land worshiped these moons as they each radiated a different cooler in the night, each day a different moon would glow lighting up the sky, until the 29th day where all the moons would glow at once." 

"On this day it's said the moons would pick a faithful being and teach them the basic's of the craft, whisking them away in the night and granting them the abilities. But soon it was realized that each moon granted different abilities for the 7 stars they possessed were the beacons of different crafts." Pausing I watched as he seemed too quiet, strangely he seemed to be intently listening to the tale, unlike his usual brash and hot-headed self. Smiling I continue, "It's said that our ancestor was chosen by the moon of Crimson, also known as Zazel and was placed on star 4. Granting her the ability of witchcraft. With it, our family has never suffered from misfortune for nearly 300 years." 

"What happened? Why do we suffer misfortune then?" He replied a small grin on his face, slightly rolling his eyes. Adjusting my stool, I mutter, "It's said that the beings had neglected to worship mother nature. The lands of the people became jealous of the moons for having their devotion and love, and it's said through that jealousy, magic was born on our planet." 

Laughing aloud he pounds the table frantically. "You can't be serious mother, you actually, believe such fairytales?" Standing up while chuckling he walks towards the exit, "worry not mother the boy's spirit will be broken tomorrow, and then you can play with your spirits." Laughing one last time he exits the cave. 

"Foolish boy" If only he believed perhaps he would survive, the misfortune that she saw present in his future. What appears through the crystal cannot be changed or altered, this I know all too well. For the boy's spirit would not break tomorrow. 

***** 

"Da'in we can't just run in and slaughter all of them, not all of them are slave handlers!" Folding her arms in defiance, Da'in refused to agree to her father's terms. "Like I said we should handle it the same way we did in Alhmar Village, save the slaves and purge the sick f***s in the mines!!"  

"Watch your mouth! You may be a warrior but I'm still your father and you will do as I say!" Glaring at the old fool I storm out of the tent into the sun, ignoring all who watched me as I kicked through the sand. If he wasn't so stubborn maybe he wouldn't have lost his arm all those years ago, and mom would still be with us. Plopping in the ground I take a deep breath trying to calm myself. It was always like this the night before an attack, yet they always were successful with her plan. 

And the one time they had listened to her father, they had lost more than half their men. He still refused to own up to his mistakes, which was the reason many of the Liberators came to her, although she was only the 2nd in Command. Brushing off the sand from her sword she unsheathed it raising it to the sun. Her brown skin, slightly blending in with the yellow sands around her. Looking at the black metal she could see her eyes shining back at her, the bright emerald that many people seemed to remember about her. 

The sword, a relic of her mothers was all she had left of her. The raiders had abducted her along with her father's right arm when she was still a baby, and her father has been looking for her ever since. Turning around a subordinate approached from camp, wearing the Liberators usual uniform, "Da'in the infiltration meeting will start soon, your fath.. the captain requests your presence." Following the man into the tent, everyone gathered around the table where the map of Layfront desert rested. My father hovering over it, his eyes glued to the table. 

"Listen up, the preparations for the liberation of Row's Peak are ready. Unit's 1 and 2 will wait on standby north of the mountains, while Unit 3 infiltrates the camp's mine's, releasing the slaves. Once the mines have collapsed, we repel the enemy until all the slaves have escaped the camp. From there we head east towards Umbak Village, it's imperative that we do not engage the enemy until unit 3 has successfully made it out of the mines. Is that understood?" 

Looking at the small group of 50 men and woman they all responded in unison, "Yes Captain!" I simply scoffed silently at the plan. It was dangerous, and far more risk than needed, yet they followed his orders blindly. Even if it resulted in their deaths. Ending the brief meeting they all exit the tent leaving me and my father alone. 

"Are you sure this plan will work? the last time we did this we lost 25 men." I mutter folding my arms his eye's continuing to trail over the map. Looking up at me he wore a tired expression, "this is the plan Da'in end of discussion, now get some rest we'll be leaving in a few hours. "Puffing my chest, I snarl at him, "how do you know they aren't expecting us? This plan has too many risks involved!" 

Sighing deeply, he walks over placing his hands on my shoulders, "I didn't tell the men this but we have a spy on the inside. They won't be expecting us for at least a few days, everything will be fine." A spy? In a slave camp? My eye's widening, I murmur to him, "A beast-men? Are you putting your trust in a beast-men? Are you crazy father? What if this is a trap!" 

Pushing his arms away I stare at him in disbelief, but his gaze remains firm as he looks back at me. "This doesn't leave the tent Da'in." Walking out of the tent I stare up at the blazing sun, gripping my katana in my right hand firmly. 

"No matter what happens, I'll slaughter all of them, for the crimes they have committed against my people. Not one beast-man will escape my wrath..."