Heirs of the Gods

Ch 59.2: Dandelion

Warnings for death, violence, blood, mild gore and mention of animal death (Non-descriptive).

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They advanced quietly, following the origin of the noise. As they crept closer, it became clearer. A series of mumbled sounds, hisses, like the spittle and crackle of a fire. Somehow, it made the skin on her arms break out in shivers.

At the edge of a clearing, they stopped, as Aedion and Valren went rigid. Back tense like a bow, it was as if they'd been frozen to the spot. Looking past them, Ella froze as well, as she caught sight of what was in front of them.

An open clearing in the forest, still bathed in gloomy darkness. Around a large, wizened beech tree, a gathering of figures. Strange and dark figures. Robes of black and on their heads, masks of animal bones of all kinds. Boar, fox, bear. Bleached bones, scarred and worn with age.

They gathered around the three, murmuring those strange, hissing sounds.

But what made the blood in her veins run icy was the lump at their feet, visible between the cracks in their circle. A large white shape, lying inert on the ground.

An Alicorn. Sprawled on its side, eyes unseeing, staring at the sky.

It didn't take more than a pause for them to realise what was taking place. The strange whispers. The rotten scent in the air. The strange circles on the ground and the daggers in their hands.

Like a slow-motion trance, they watched, unable to move, as one of the masked beings crouched in front of the animal, dagger in hand.

Before any of them could react, a sharp outline flew past them.

Ella whirled, flattening herself against a tree as the shape flew past her, slicing into the air like a knife cutting through cloth. It landed straight between the shoulder blades of the figure holding the knife, ready to carve into the animal.

He hissed out a shriek, immediately dropping the weapon, as the circle scattered in the commotion.

They turned in the direction of the treeline to find the culprit. Surprising even Ella, it was Blaise.

Trembling, glassy-eyed Blaise, who still held his bow in his white-knuckled grip, another arrow already poised to strike.

One of the hooded figures raised red hands, the scent of rot filling the air as it cast a glowing red orb. Before anyone could even move, Aedion had pushed Blaise down, just as the bolt whirled past them, slamming against a tree, leaving it a mess of rotten, blazing wood.

That cloaked figure murmured something again, waving wrinkled red hands. A shiver danced down her spine, as that nauseous scent of sulphur once again rose. That scent she could have pinpointed anywhere, the one she often thought about, still clogging her pores since that night in Vale.

Ella fixed her gaze on Aedion. His jaw ticked and he nodded imperceptibly. It was one of those. One of the Wrachyd.

This one was taller than the rest. He wore the largest, most gruesome mask, the only one of its kind. A ram head with twisted black horns protruding from the sides.

One of his companions, the one Blaise had struck, still writhed on the floor. The arrow gruesomely protruded between his shoulder blades, as he pawed at the length. Despite his agonised wailing, he was still very much alive. The ram-headed Wrachyd reached down and yanked the arrow, sending a spray of dark blood gushing out.

Despite the harrowing shrieks his fallen companion emitted, none of the others did anything. Rather, they clasped their hands together and mumbled, that same horrible scent lifting once again.