Page 53 of Magic & Secrets
The Warlocks moved in sync, locked together mentally as their magic surged around me. I swiped at one, only for him to dissolve into a yellow shimmer. The second one brandished his magic like a whip to tear into my flesh.
I heard Calla crying out my name in the darkness. A part of me was relieved to know she was still alive. I could still save her and rip off those Serpent Shifters’ heads.
I watched the Warlocks moving around me. They shouldn’t be this powerful against a Bane Shifter. Their normal magic would customarily fall away once I shifted, yet I couldn’t seem to change form. An ancient one’s power kept me trapped.
The Warlocks’ magic lashed at me repeatedly, as I struggled to react. Each strike led to a cry from Calla in the darkness.
My mind swam as I recalled her eating next to me last night. Her scent found me, leaving me numb to the violence against my body. I couldn’t think straight. Only when I realized her cries no longer followed the lashing against my skin was I able to break free of the wretched magic distracting me.
Fighting through the pain, I focused on a single Warlock until my vision became a pinpoint of him and nothing else. He shimmered in and out of form. Seeing only the Warlock’s throat, everything dropped away except for him, me, and the timing of his shimmer. Once my beast breathed with his magic, I struck out and sliced open his throat.
The magic around me faltered as the Warlock collapsed to the ground. The remaining two stumbled backward.
The arrival of more Serpent Shifters reinvigorated the surviving Warlocks into battle form. I dove for the one on the left just as their magic gripped me again.
My mind seized on a memory of Mt. Elysium. The Warlocks’ magic tore at my flesh. The Serpent Shifters left me bloody. Rather than see them, I pushed everything away until I was alone on my mountain.
I broke free of the hypnotic magic spawned by meeting Calla. I was once again a member of the most fearsome fighting force Lavinia had ever witnessed.
My body shifted despite the Warlocks’ magic. I forced my limbs to move me closer to them. One step and then another, I erased the space between us. Every time their magic ripped open my flesh, the wounds healed a little faster.
As the Serpent Shifters attacked with more frenzy, I reached out and grabbed one. My claws dug into its head. The creature cried out. The others mimicked its wails of pain.
My hands squeezed the Shifter’s head until it popped like a grape.
The Serpents Shifters hissed at the magic men who changed their spells. My body began to spin violently. They’d been playing with me before. Perhaps, they wanted me intact. Calla might be right about their hope for a Bane Shifter sacrifice to their ancient god.
I once again fought against the magic, slowly making my way toward my next victim. They could tear my flesh away a million times, but I would always heal. Nothing could stop me. They’d wear themselves out long before my life ended. Once they were weak, I would do to them what I did to the headless Serpent Shifter on the ground.
The Warlocks froze, suddenly holding me still rather than spinning me. They sensed what I did. A new power had entered the fray.
The magic felt unnatural, potent, and eternal. The ground trembled under their feet. I watched them rally together, preparing for whatever might appear from the dense woods around us. Up in the sky, the trees swayed, allowing a hint of sunlight to find us.
I considered the creature living under Pandorium Forest. A great, vile monster from a time when puny creatures like us were mere meat.
The magic crackling around us didn’t feel like Pandorium. I’d been in these woods many times, and the scent of it was unmistakably mossy with an undertone of decay.
Whatever moved this direction smelled dewy like after an early morning rain. A melodic hum filled the air. The Serpent Shifters hissed as if threatening whatever grew closer. The Warlocks were more composed, scanning the forest until they focused on one spot.
Calla stepped out of the woods with her swords limp at her sides. Her face was covered in blood, yet she moved as if unharmed.
A magenta mist flowed around her. Her eyes shone with the same shade of purple as a frightened Mina when they were training as younglings.
The creature emerging from the darkness wasn’t the same one I had followed into this forest.
The Serpent Shifters charged Calla. Even sensing something evil radiating from the warrior, I fought to break free of the Warlocks’ magic and protect her.
Calla swung her swords. Not in the clumsy way she did in the field, or even with more precision like she used on the first day we met. Her movements now felt otherworldly as she glided between the attackers’ bodies. Their limbs dropped to the ground. Their cries filled the air. Their blood drenched her.
I had only seen one breed of warrior fight in such a preternatural way before. Not even the finest Elven or Vampyre soldier could tear through bodies with such ease.
The Warlocks dropped me to the ground and focused their magic on Calla, who approached them. Her gaze never flashed to me. She only saw her enemy. I recalled how the Armgard were notoriously single-minded during battle.
These Warlocks were young yet powerful. A pungent breeze spun around us, bearing down on Calla. Behind her, the bodies of the Serpent Shifters twitched and broke down into magenta mist.
The wind dropped away, leaving a suffocating heat in its place. The animals in the forest went silent. Armgard magic was unnatural, reeking of a time when ancient beasts owned this world.
The Warlocks whipped up the air around them, only for their magic to drop away immediately.
