Dance Macabre: Tales from a Cursed Land

VII: The Last Bastion of Light (1/3)

Finally. The stray lock of hair he had kept as a memento of his short time with Tessa had unerringly pointed him to the direction where the half-elven woman was – aided by a tracking spell, of course – but he had not thought she would have wandered this far. Otherwise it was exactly the kind of place where he'd expect to find a hunter like her, the sole tavern of a small town. A place to relax and hear the latest news.

At first he had planned to carry Saska's comatose body with him, but far too soon found out that for some reason it attracted ghouls and worse. Perhaps they sensed that the boy's soul was gone. In the end he had taken the rather long detour to reach the little town he had first visited in this realm. It wasn't much, but at the very least he hoped he could trust Matt after helping free his siblings from their curse. And with Saska staying in one place, he could cast wards against the monsters.

Tessa smiled when she saw him. "Raviel! Long time no see." She scooted a little to the side on the wide bench. "Please take a seat."

Raviel did as he was asked, studying the man on the opposite side of the table discreetly while at it. His cloak was spread on the bench next to him and on it lay a stringed instrument Raviel was pretty certain was some variety of lute. On the floor rested a medium-sized bag with a shoulder strap for carrying. His clothes were stylish, in black and dark blue with a touch of silver, and no doubt more expensive than a mere peasant could afford. "Who's your companion?"

"I go by the name of Nightshade," the man replied, his voice a smooth baritone. "I'm a traveling bard, although I do peddle in information every now and then. Pleasure to meet you, Raviel. Tessa has told me about the adventures you shared."

"We go way back," Tessa assured the elf when Raviel appeared somewhat suspicious. "Nightshade...saved me from a life not worth living. You can trust him just as much as you trust me."

"Alright." She must have known he didn't trust her completely either. But his allies in this realm were few and far between. At the very least Tessa hadn't turned on him yet. "There was a boy, Saska, who was helping me. A will o'wisp stole his soul, and I need to find a way to get it back."

"That's peculiar," Nightshade commented, running a hand through his black hair. "I've only ever heard of will o'wisps luring people to their deaths. Usually by drowning."

"It's a little...complicated. That will o'wisp was his dead twin brother's soul who harbored a grudge against him. I asked the crone of the swamp, but she said I didn't have any way to pay her."

"I've heard that her prices tend to be much more than coin too," Tessa said. "But it's also possible she didn't want to admit she doesn't know of a way. When a soul is gone, it's gone and the body slowly withers away. That's just how it is."

"I might accept that if the soul had been devoured, but Saska is still alive. As a will o'wisp, true, but he's not gone yet."

"Is that so?" Nightshade pondered. "There is one place...but I can't guarantee it will work."

"What is it?" Any hope, no matter what, was better than none right now.

"Well," the bard leaned closer and lowered his voice. "There's a monastery. Elven one. Heard it's called the last bastion of light in this cursed world."

"Religion itself doesn't-"

"Ah, but the monks can use powerful magic. Holy magic. That's the exact opposite of will o'wisps and other restless spirits, is it not?"

"I want him cured, not exorcised."

Nightshade chuckled. "I think we can both agree that magic is a tool used as its wielder wishes, mister elven mage. But..." He paused. "In case they can't help, I do know someone who can."