Dreamweaver - Chapter 2

"They have stolen our sacred relic!" Griselda shrieked.

Being struck by a bolt of Fire from a Dark Knight should've had the old witch on bed rest for the next few days, healing with dosages of strength and resistance tonics, but a mixture of fury, panic, and pain kept the old witch on her feet. Sweat poured down her face as she stared down at the temple dais, the resting place of the village's most sacred artifact. The Edon Stones.

Which were now missing.

A witch, grungy and muddy from the outer-realm assault, ducked beneath the modest ceiling of the temple. "Madam, what are you doing?" she cried in dismay. "You should be resting. The fight has taken a lot out of you."

"Did you not hear me?" Griselda screeched. "Those two children have taken the Edon Stones! How dare you think of resting? This is a tragedy!"

"What?" the witch cried in dismay. Her call was taken up by the other young ladies, who flocked towards the fury in Griselda's voice. They gathered around the entrance of the temple, gazing with disbelief at the empty dais. The Edon Stones, the sacred, magical earrings shaped like the sun and moon, had inhabited that gray slab since time out of mind. Each could remember the elder of the village, a position currently held by Griselda, telling them from a young age about the history of the Edon Stones, and how they were supposedly a gift to the witches and their craft by one of the ancient Twelve Dragons.

A gift that had been stolen from them by the most unlikely of thieves.

Griselda gnashed her teeth, remembering the slender, feminine figure in pastel green, long, curly hair pinned in a high ponytail beneath a olive-colored beret. She had no idea of where she had come from, but Griselda now regretted not striking her dead the second she had happened upon her in the temple, removing the earrings from their sacred perch and holding them up to her ears, as if wondering whether or not to wear them. Wear them! As though they were household jewelry, simply something to be put on and taken off. Gods, the nerve!

As it turned out, Griselda's fury and shock at such sacrilege had cost her highly in the end — it had given the girl enough time to detect her presence and dodge the deathstroke spell the elder witch had lobbed at her. Well, no, the girl hadn't actually dodged the attack — her friend had charged out of the shadows, tackling the girl and sending them both tumbling out of the temple's back exit. By the time Griselda had gathered her forces behind her, the two children had taken cover near the edge of town, in one of the irrigation ditches that channeled water from the nearby river. And not long after that, those other out-realmers had appeared, peppering their homes with magical attacks as if they were the ones in the wrong.

Gods! Griselda had not felt this furious in decades — her outrage warmed her blood like the tale-tell heat of magic, desperate for an outlet.

"Milady? Excuse me, milady?" It took Griselda a moment to realize that she was being addressed — she turned, baring her teeth, and the witch trying to get her attention shrank back, taking cover between her sisters.

"What?" Griselda snapped.

"I-I'm sorry...I was just wondering, what do you want to do?" the witch asked, pointing to the empty dais.

"What do you think?" Griselda snarled. "The Edon Stones have been our most sacred treasure for centuries, since the Twelve Dragons roamed the earth. Are we going to let a pair of children — out-realmers — take from us what is ours?"

"No," the witches replied, shaking their heads.

Griselda cupped a hand to her ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked. "I'm not quite sure I heard you."

"No, we will not!" a witch said, a little louder.

"They have committed sacrilege, and we will act accordingly," said another.

"They shall pay with their crimes!"

"Death to the out-realmers!"

"Vengeance!"

"We will show them that we are not to be trifled with!"

The cry was taken up by the rest of the witches, and the air grew thick with their lust for vengeance. Griselda smiled, feeling sorry for the poor children who had dared to remove the Edon Stones from their perch. They would surely rue the day they'd thought to step foot in this Deeprealm!

"Annette!" Griselda called forth one of her most promising disciples, a violet-haired witch with eyes rivaling hot coals. She swept forward.

"Yes, milady?"

"Our mission is dire, but I'm not foolish enough to think that we're at full strength. How quickly can we go after those out-realmers?"

Annette gazed at the rallying witches, bright eyes calculating. "That skirmish was brief, but it has taken its toll on us. Some of us are not fit to be casting spells anytime soon. For all of us to fully recover, I would estimate we would need a week. Perhaps less with the help of resistance tonics."

"Hmm. Fine, in that case, gather five of our strongest to accompany us. We leave immediately."

"It shall be done, milady."