“We can’t just stay here!” the fourth growled, pacing around the camp fire.
“We have no other choice, Striga!” Olia replied, barely holding it together.
“So, what do we do? Just wait here around the fire and enjoy the starry night sky while our sisters burn?” Striga shot back.
“Look at us!” Olia raised her voice. “This is all we have left! Us, Hansa, and Anjani! We have to be patient, we have to hold on, and we have to protect the children. They’re all we have left! We are all we have left!”
Striga roared and shoved her sword into the ground, succumbing to fury. Then she fell to her knees, choked up, and let tears stream down her cheeks.
Perra stood up and moved toward Striga to comfort her. She kneeled and took the grieving succubus in her arms, whispering in her ear.
Adisa pulled a small pouch from her satchel and handed it to Olia, who untied its string and motioned for the succubi to get closer to the fire. Perra managed to bring Striga back. They both sat down with glazed eyes and trembling lips.
“What will prayers do?” Striga moaned, rubbing her face.
“It’s all we have right now,” Olia replied. “Hansa may or may not be back, and we need to reach out to the Daughters. They need to see this. They need to feel what we feel. Maybe they’ll show mercy and intervene.”
“Oh, please, they’ve not cared for this world in a very long time! If they did, Azazel wouldn’t be slaughtering our sisters like this!” Striga hissed.
“We have to pray! Now, shut up and join hands! We might as well try. It won’t kill us!”
Olia sat with her back straight as the succubi grasped hands around the fire. She closed her eyes, pouch in her hands. The flames threw amber reflections against her shimmering skin, and I watched with fascination as they recited a prayer directed at the Daughters of Eritopia. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, already aware of how cruel and careless the goddesses really were.
“Hear our prayer, Daughters of this world,” Olia started. “We are your subjects, your faithful servants, your daughters of the Northern Mountain. Hear our prayer, as we ask for your mercy, your compassion, your love, and your wrath.”
“We are dying, Daughters of this world,” Adisa continued. “The darkness is spreading, the poison is turning peaceful creatures into monsters.”
“The blood of innocents flows in rivers as the monster laughs and kills everything good and kind,” Perra added. “We beg you, Daughters…”
“Listen to our pleas,” Striga mumbled. “We sit here, mourning our mothers, our sisters, and our daughters. Listen to our pleas…”
“The darkness forgives nothing. It hates. It kills. It destroys. It soils the pristine fields of Eritopia with misery and greed,” another succubus chimed in.
“Eritopia is dying, Daughters… We are dying… Show mercy. Look down upon us and feel what we feel. See what we see…”
“Eritopia is yours, and you are of Eritopia… We beg you, show mercy and save us…”
“Eritopia is dying, this world is dying, we are all dying…”
“Our sisters are gone. Our numbers are weak. Our weapons are failing,” one of the teen succubi said, her voice trembling.
“We beseech you, Daughters of Eritopia, to feel what we feel. This world is suffering. This world is dying,” the tenth succubus added.
“Can you not feel it, Daughters of this world? Can you not feel us?” Olia finished the prayer and scattered the content of the pouch into the fire.
The dust burned in a flash of violet sparks, and the fire swelled and burst into a bright pink flame, throwing the succubi on their backs. I took a step forward, fascinated by the effect. The pink fire gradually died down.
The succubi got back up, shocked by the flame’s reaction to the prayer dust.
“This doesn’t usually happen,” Striga said, confirming my suspicions.
I could tell from their baffled expressions that their prayers didn’t usually end in massive pink flames and violet sparks from a mild campfire. Olia got closer, looking down at the charred pieces of wood and incandescent embers. She picked up a stick and poked the remains, revealing a large diamond shaped like a tear.
I leaned forward to get a better look.
Olia used a leather cloth to pick the diamond up. We all gathered around her as she held the gemstone up. It was perfect, with a pristine cut and flawless polish, except for the small violet fire burning inside, suspended in crystal.
“That wasn’t there before, was it?” Striga asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“I don’t think so. I would have seen it,” Olia replied.
“What do we do with it?”
Olia shrugged and put it in her travel pouch, looking up at the giant moon.
“I don’t know, but I will keep it safe until we figure out what it does or where it’s from,” she said.
A thought bloomed in the back of my head. Had the Daughters heard the succubi’s prayer? Were they responding with that diamond? Were they finally reaching out and giving us a hand in this dark mess?
“Do you think the Daughters sent it?” Adisa asked.
“I don’t know… Maybe?” Olia was as clueless as the rest of us.
“Maybe they’re finally feeling our grief,” Perra said. “Maybe they’re reacting.”
“I guess we will find out sooner or later,” Olia replied. “Let’s sleep now. Tomorrow we return to the camp and look for survivors… Or at least wait for Hansa.”
The succubi nodded and disappeared beneath their fur covers, while Olia and Adisa took the first watch. The sky above us stretched in deep shades of indigo. Billions of stars sprawled out. Some flickered yellow and red, while most were cold and white. A full pearly moon accompanied them.
My mind wandered again as I thought about Anjani, then my brother and Bijarki. I wanted to see them and make sure they were okay.
Much to my surprise, I swiftly transitioned from the northern mountain to a lush jungle. Something told me I’d see my brother soon enough, judging by how well I’d learned to control my direction in these visions. The Druid’s advice had certainly helped, as focusing on something in particular made it easier for my Oracle mind to narrow its search.
I was a few hours away from my previous location, as the sunset was still vividly pink and orange in the west, casting its warm light on the wax leaves and dusty road. I looked around, unable to figure out which way I was supposed to go next. All I could see was the straight road, flanked by dark woods.
I heard noises behind me. I turned and watched three figures emerge from the horizon. I stood and waited as they got closer. The sound of hooves and horses neighing reached me first. Before I could think, three gorgeous white stallions galloped past me, their long red manes fluttering in the wind.
My brother, Anjani, and Bijarki were riding them, their expressions grave. Their hands clutched the reins and their crossbows as they darted forward down the road. Thick rolls of dust were raised behind them. I sighed, aware that I was unable to keep up with that speed, even with my inner-wolf. Those horses were faster than any other creature I’d ever seen.
I heard whispers, swishing and crackling through the jungle on both sides of the road. I looked around and saw shadows moving swiftly through the trees. Several of them stopped, hissed, and moved even faster.
I focused and looked deeper into the woods fearing I’d see a pack of shape-shifters or worse, Destroyers. I caught a glimpse of the creatures. They were females, beautiful and athletic, jumping over the thick, gnarly roots as they gradually closed the distance between themselves and my brother’s group.
Bright green and yellow scales adorned their arms, backs, and shoulders. Their eyes were the color of lemons with slim black pupils, and their forked tongues occasionally flicked, sniffing the air. Based on what I’d recognized at that point, those were Lamias.
But I couldn’t say the same for all the shadows I’d seen running through the jungle after Jovi, Anjani, and
Bijarki. Some were incubi, clad in camouflage uniforms, knives held between their teeth as they ran ahead of the Lamias.
My heart jumped at the thought of hostiles going after my brother. There were too many of them, and they were getting closer with each minute.
I ran, but darkness engulfed me, and I lost contact with the vision. I cursed as I sat up and found myself sitting in the attic, awake and unable to help Jovi.
Serena
We mounted our satchels on our backs, strapping them over our shoulders and around our waists for the sake of mobility. With the invisibility spell completed, we were ready to go. The magic formula itself was a rather interesting shimmering gray paste—not something I would have instinctively ingested, since it looked more like makeup than an edible substance.
The Dearghs stood around us, watching quietly as Draven passed the bowl around, and we each shoved a handful of the paste into our mouths, washing it down with water. It tasted horrible.
We waited patiently on the edge of the clearing at the base of Mount Zur, as nightfall glazed everything in shades of black and indigo.
Draven pulled out the Daughter’s notes and recited the spell.
“In darkness and light, we will not be seen. Shapeless creatures we shall become, foreign to the eyes of anything that moves. Between leaves and against stones, through water and dirt, we shall be like air. Unseen, obscured, concealed. We shall be cloaked in light, reflecting light, exuding light.”
A few minutes passed as we looked at each other, waiting for the invisibility spell to kick in. By then, we’d already learned that the swamp witches’ magic took a little bit longer than Draven’s potions to take effect, triggered only by their specific chemical reactions and words.
“Stay in the shadows, even if you cannot be seen.” Inon continued to give us little snippets of wisdom, ever the gentle giant that he was. “Follow the moon. Make sure it’s always in the middle of the sky for you to find Azazel’s castle.”
I felt a familiar heat spread through me as Draven’s hand took mine, gently squeezing it and sending me wave upon wave of his golden energy. I took it all in, even though I didn’t really need to syphon off him right then. I looked at him, and he gave me a brief smile before letting go, his eyes saying more than his words.
“We’ll have to run fast in order to reach the dungeons before sunrise. You need all the energy you can fit in your body right now,” he said.
“Thank you.” I nodded and stilled.
I watched as his skin began to glimmer slightly, as if diamond dust was suddenly seeping out of each pore. His eyes grew wide, and Hansa gasped as we looked at each other, watching ourselves slowly fade out and disappear as the spell took effect.
“Good to know it’s actually working,” I heard Draven say in front of me.
The Dearghs nodded and turned their heads to one side and then the other, unable to see us anymore.
“What do you know! I’m but a ghost in the jungles of Eritopia!” Hansa chuckled and kicked one of the stone giants in the knee.
The Deargh bent forward, smiling and swatting away at the air, unable to capture the fast and invisible succubus. I heard her laugh.
“This is fantastic! Make sure you leave me a copy of that spell, Druid! What we had left over from the swamp witches was nothing compared to this!” she said, having moved further down toward the edge of the clearing.
“Do we know how long it lasts?” I asked.
“Several hours for sure, but there’s no precise figure.” His voice tickled my ear as he closed the distance between us.
My spine tingled as I felt his body mold against mine. My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t help the grin slitting my face at the thought that we were invisible and so deliciously close to each other.
“You should leave now,” Inon said. “Use the spell to your advantage. Run like the wind. Don’t stop unless it serves your mission. Otherwise, time is precious.”
“Thank you, Inon. Thank you, Zur, for your help and kindness,” Draven said. “This gesture will never be forgotten, and you have my word that I will repay you in full for this.”
“It’s not over yet, young Druid,” Zur replied. “Fulfill your mission, and we shall rise against Azazel with you. The time for war is near.”
“Indeed, it is. We’re leaving now,” Draven announced, taking my hand again.
“Draven, Serena, we cannot see each other, but we can follow each other’s voices,” Hansa said, walking alongside us as we entered the dark forest. She mimicked the sound of a snake, a brief succession of three hisses.
Draven responded with the same hissing sound.
“That’s right,” Hansa replied. “We’ll use this when we cannot speak, should there be hostiles around.”
I reproduced the triple hiss surprisingly well, prompting Hansa to clap her hands. Although, since I was unable to see her facial expression, I wasn’t sure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic.
“Well done, Serena,” she eventually said. “You’re blending into Eritopia better and better with each passing day. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were born and belong here!”
I chuckled as I followed Draven through the woods. A part of me registered that statement—the notion of me belonging here, in Eritopia, sounded like a snippet of absolute fantasy, and yet, something tugged at my heart whenever I replayed the sentence in my mind.
I missed my home. I missed The Shade and my parents and our way of life. I carried the weight of that every day, heavy in my heart while looking for a way out of Eritopia. But as Draven’s and my relationship developed, this whole world was growing on me. I liked the pink and orange sunsets, the taste of the food, and the weird creatures who called Eritopia home.
Draven was a pillar for me in my darkest hours, and he was slowly becoming more important than I’d ever expected. He challenged me in ways I’d never thought possible, and so did Eritopia. Nothing could replace The Shade, but I was feeling closer to this strange land now than I could have ever fathomed—and I couldn’t completely deny the possibility that we might not make it back home.
I pushed the thought to the back of my mind as we followed the moon, a giant marble always in the center of the sky. The wilderness was quiet around us, the leaves and twigs crackling beneath our feet almost the only sound.
I heard Hansa up ahead, occasionally whistling just to make sure we knew where she was headed. Draven held my hand as we followed her, sending constant waves of warmth through my body. He’d opened himself up to me entirely, teasing my sentry senses with all the emotions that he was experiencing in that moment—tension, determination, an undertone of fear and anger, and a hefty amount of something I’d decided to call desire, although it felt like much more to me. It was aimed at me, and I took it all in, feeding off it and sending it back with my own emotions.
We didn’t speak for a while, as we sprinted through the woods, following the moon. Feeling Draven’s hand wrapped around mine kept my feet light as we treaded over the tall grass.
My heart pounded—with fear, and also with something beautiful yet dangerous; even though I knew, deep inside, that he felt the same, I was still wary of the many ways in which everything could go wrong.
I understood then that I was just as afraid of losing him as he was of losing me. If I even considered that thought, it was amplified into a true horror story filled with unimaginable pain. I couldn’t stand it. It clawed at my heart.
I was falling for the Druid so hard and fast and deep that I’d grown too tired to try to fight it. There was no point in resisting anymore anyway. He’d burrowed his way into my heart.
A group of twinkling lights, about fifty yards away, paused my train of thought.
“Serena, can you see that far ahead?” Hansa whispered as we stopped.
I used my True Sight to discover a camp of about fifty incubi in military attire, most of them sleeping around several fires. Some were still eating and talking. They were all beautiful specimens, with symm
etrical features, smooth silvery skin, deep set eyes, and short black hair, as if they had been sculpted by the same artist tortured by his desire to achieve aesthetic perfection.
“There’s an incubus camp there. Four fires, about ten to fifteen gathered around each fire,” I replied. They’re soldiers, judging by the attire. Most of them are sleeping, but some are still awake eating. Their weapons are put away, except for two incubi keeping watch on the northern and southern side of the camp.”
“We’ll have to be quiet and move around them,” Draven said.
“I think we should pass through,” Hansa replied. “We might pick up some information on the way. They can’t see us.”
Draven pondered the issue for a minute, then whispered, “I agree with Hansa. Let’s meet on the other side of the camp by the giant purple tree.” He tugged my arm, and we moved ahead, straight into the camp.
I looked ahead and saw exactly which tree he meant. An incubus slept there, his head resting on one of the thick but smaller roots. It was the only purple tree around. Hansa hissed thrice as she swiftly moved into the camp.
We followed her closely, careful not to make any noise. The spell that Draven had spoken implied that we would be soundless, but we couldn’t take any chances. After all, we could hear each other.
Most of the incubi were submerged in deep slumber, the occasional snore rising from the sea of bodies in military attire. We stopped in front of one of the camp fires, where five incubi were still eating from their rations of dried meat and bread. One was sharpening his sword with a black stone. The whistle of the metal cut through the peaceful night like a reminder that more blood would be spilled.
“I don’t like this, Mal,” one incubus said to another, his mouth full. “We’re stuck here looking out for nothing in particular, while Sverik’s stuck in a cage. It’s not right.”
“There’s nothing we can do about it, Yaron,” Mal replied while running the black stone down the blade again.
“We could go get him,” a third one interjected.