Chapter Text
They had been summoned again.
Just as they had been summoned last year.
Just like all the other All Hallow’s Eves before that.
Satya Vaswani – or as her temporary allies called her “The Summoner” – stood before the Witch’s hut with all the rest who had been summoned. As always the Reaper was present; the jack-o-lantern serving as his head cast a soft glow upon the shadows within which he stood. Junkenstein and his hideous monstrosity were once again brought back to life, thanks to the Witch’s necromancy. Then there were the newcomers; those who owed a favor to the Witch within the past year. The Jiangshi stood off to the side, rocking back and forth upon her feet looking the most out of place of them all. The Banshee, which stood off to the side, was having – ironically – a quiet conversation with the Swamp Monster. Yet none of them had caught Satya’s attention as much as the Rime had.
The Rime stood close enough that Satya could feel the fire heating within herself, burning hot enough to combat the Rime’s own freezing nature. In all honesty, Satya wasn’t even sure what drew her to the ice dragon. Perhaps it was just the fact that she wasn’t the only dragon as she had once thought. It certainly couldn’t be anything else; they were as different in personality as their elements were. Where Satya preferred all things in an orderly fashion, the Rime – or Sombra, as the ice dragon had introduced herself – clearly didn’t care about order and appeared to prefer chaos. Even so, there was something oddly appealing about Sombra’s carefree nature. Which was … odd, to say the least. What possible advantage could there be to being so carefree?
Where was the structure? Where was the discipline? The regulation? The management? The symmetry? The perfection of all things in order? What did chaos bring? It brought nothing but anarchy and discord and turmoil. Just as ice stood as antithetical to fire; so did Sombra’s very nature, which was the exact contradiction to Satya’s own. Then why was she so drawn to her!?! The two of them were nothing alike. Sure they were both serving the Witch but other than that they were polar opposites. Just as fire and ice, and heaven and hell warred, so did they. Then why did she want to be with her? Was this attraction as fatal as the structure, the discipline they had all been denied? Would it lend hand to her ultimate destruction? A small puff of fire escaped her mouth as Satya huffed in annoyance.
Blissfully, her attention was drawn skyward as the Witch finally deigned to appear. As always, the Witch was perched upon her broom, legs crossed and a sneer on her face. Next to the Witch, held aloft upon magical wings, was the ever loyal bodyguard … the Possessed. Satya suppressed the urge to growl like a common animal. There were few things that could unnerve a mighty dragon such as herself. Necromancy, however, was one of the only things which could ever set her on edge. Not that any form of necromancy was ever a threat to her; the fire raging within her was more than enough to burn any animated corpse to ash.
“Welcome, my allies!” The Witch’s voice boomed around them, drawing everyone’s attention to where she floated above them. “As you are all aware, tomorrow is All Hallows Eve, the night that our powers will be at their strongest.” The Witch’s gaze swept over all of them, seemingly piercing into their souls. “Pair up, and assault the castle once more! Our combined powers will be more than enough to tear through the defenders and lay ruin to them all!”
Satya turned on her heel and walked away even before the Witch had finished giving orders, having no intention of teaming up with anyone. She was a dragon there were few things that could withstand the heat of her flame and fewer things still which could penetrate her hardened scales. She barely took two steps before she felt an icy arm drape itself about her shoulders, “So, what do you say, shall we show them the power of fire and ice?”
Satya allowed the fire within her to burn slightly hotter; steam rising from where the Rime’s arm met her molten skin. “Do as you will,” Satya responded.
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The Witch watched as her “allies” left to make their final preparations, making her way into her hut. Sitting upon her chair, she hunched over the table and began to mull over the castle’s map, figuring out the best infiltrations but also any backups she could think of. There shouldn’t be any stone left unturned if she was going to defeat them once and for all. Yet she was also trying to figure out where the object she was looking for could be. By all accounts, it was somewhere within the castle and it should have made itself known. Did the Lord of the castle know of what she wanted and hid it away? No, that shouldn’t be possible. Without a magical sense of some kind, one wouldn’t even be able to see it. Unless … could it have taken some kind of corporeal form?
The Witch leaned back in her chair, head lolling to the side to gaze upon her silent bodyguard. “Oh, stop judging me! I know I should sleep to prepare, but I cannot rest until I know exactly where it is! But if you’re so exhausted by all means…” As always, the animated body didn’t respond, causing her to frown … not that it surprised her, but still, she could hope for a response. How many years had it been…since she had given that body back its life? Far, far too long for her liking.
Rising to her feet, the Witch stood before the Possessed, placing her hand upon the body’s cheek. She chuckled to herself, as ridiculous and sentimental it sounded, she could still remember when this body had been alive. Could still remember the feeling of those warm arms around her waist. Indulging herself a little, the Witch removed the helmet which sat upon the Possessed’s head, gazing up into the pure white eyes. She could still remember the loving look in those once brown eyes. The smile that always graced those lips whenever they were together. She could still remember the day that Fareeha Amari – a warrior from a faraway land – wandered by her hut.
She had been a much younger witch yet still much older than most mortals. Back then, she had been known as benevolent healer, helping those who came to her hut and asking for nothing in return. Fareeha had not been the first warrior or solider to come to her either asking for healing from battle wounds or requesting a potion to help them in battles to come. The warrior was stronger than most, blood trickling down from skin hidden by hand-crafted, intricate armor. Her aura and strength immediately pulling the young witch in. Though it was so long ago now, she could still hear the conversation ringing in her ears, her beloved’s light laughter sending chills down her spine. The way it always did especially as their bodies entwined…
Oh, if only they could return to those carefree days. Where the world only reached as far as her hut’s walls or the forest’s boundary. Yet those days had been destined to remain short, as the Lord of Adlersbrunn visited her hut. He had heard tales of the Egyptian General which roamed the lands seeking to bring justice wherever she went. The Lord of Adlersbrunn wished to recruit Fareeha into his service to help him bring glory and honor to his land. Godsdamn why did Fareeha have to join the old fool?! Why did that old fool have to send her to face the dangerous monsters?! And why did Fareeha’s ridiculous sense of honor and justice prevent her from leaving his service?! And above all else, WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE!
Now was not the time to let her emotions take over her and yet… She balled her hands into fists and banged on the table. WHY FAREEHA? WHY? Of everyone else, why did it have to be the only being she ever loved? The only person who had ever been worth dying for? The only one who gave a damn about her? WHY WERE THE GODS SO CRUEL?!
Anger crackled within her being, rising to the front, taking over every sense in her body, even though she knew she shouldn’t get worked over something like this. But she couldn’t help it. Every time she looked at the empty husk that stood behind her, guarding her, she was reminded of the person who once inhabited that body. The person who…tears flooded her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t weak. Yet then, at the moment of Fareeha’s death … she had been. She simply couldn’t let her Egyptian General fall like that … couldn’t let her die like that … couldn’t let her leave her alone like that. And that was why she had cast that spell, even though she hadn’t even been close to the level of mastery in the necromantic arts as she was now. And Fareeha’s soul paid the price for her weakness. Shattering and tearing and ripping into dozens…not dozens, thousands of pieces while all she did was wail on her knees for all she had lost. All she couldn’t reclaim any other way but this.
It was that night, so many years ago, when she promised she would find the remains of Fareeha’s soul and bind them back to their rightful body. And she was so close now! It was only a matter of time before she got her hands on the last shard. All she needed was to get through the castle, get it in her hands, and go. Casualties be damned, she hissed within her mind.
A hand was placed upon her shoulder, jolting her out of her thoughts, sending chills down her back. It had been so long since she felt a comforting hand upon her body, a loving hand pulling her out of her seclusion and misery. Closing her eyes, she could almost imagine it was Fareeha’s warm hand pulling her out of her loneliness. Oh, how she missed her Egyptian General. If she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could almost hear that beautiful voice which once whispered in her ear.
“An…ge…la…”
The Witch placed her finger upon her bodyguard’s lips, a smirk upon her own, “Shhhhh, my dear, you’ll be whole soon enough.”