The Maiden and the witch
Author's notes:
OK, let's make this quick:
1) I do not own this franchise, but the brilliant creators of Merlin do.
2) R&S so you can have your say on how this story should progress.
That's all from me.
Chapter 1:
The air was sharper than a dagger's tip.
It sliced into my lungs as I took every quiet breath like a scythe into the very inner sanctuary of my soul. My body screamed but I took no notice. Pain wasn't anything new and I ignored it without a single moment of hesitation. However I was conscious of the cold and how it could trigger shivering or numbness of which I wanted neither so I pulled my cloak around me and scouted the area yet again.
The forest was bare of life, with even the most powerful of beasts hiding in their burrows due to the extreme winter here. There was no bird song, no scurrying of a plump rabbit and no movement in the trees. In essence it was silence that penetrated into the very heart of the forest and not the snow. All the snow in the world couldn't bring the erieness of silence of a forest that should be alive with the doings of its inhabitants. A thick fog had lain itself across the forest floor, blocking potential attackers from my view. Not good but eventually it passed me by. I must have waited hours before my target came into view, Arine war lord of the far northern plains and butcher of his people. Arine of course was not alone in his frozen trek, for a few guards and servants silently trudged through the thick blankets of snow. Easy to pick off, for I have no need for witnesses today. Arine was alert for danger but had so far failed to seek out my location. He was dressed in fine furs of exotic origin and of thick layers of velvet and leather to cover him from the cold. Every inch was hand stiched by careful hands and every detail was imaculet in presentation. This could be Arine but there must be confirmation before the attack happens, after all it could be a decoy. I crept towards the party in utter silence under the cover of the white snow and towering trees while the party came closer and closer towards me.
Thirteen people were in it, and only the guards were armed so that would be a good advantage if this came to hand to hand. One of the guards showed definite bruising around the left side of his face next to the temple which I attributed to a fist prehaps delivered by the not so pleasant Arine. A clean shot to there would stun him if I was to have to engage them physically but personally that would not end well as they have the better numbers and one could still escape. So a long distance confrontation is probably best, plus It's so hard to wash out blood.
I glanced again at the party and suddenly ducked behind a large oak. There was a man in Arine's presence, not a lord or a king but a commoner, and I knew that the man dressed like a king was no king. No man would enter Arine's presence for only last week he had killed a foolish maid who dared only to come a few inches nearer to him. However we did not care for Arine until it came reported that he was planning to exterminate our coven. Whether it was true or not, we dared not allow for such subordination and so the High Mother herself had sent for my assistance in the matter and I dared not to disobey the head of our order. Of course, the High Mother is a well-educated lady in company with many virtues to her name including grace, kindness and humility but out of the light of the outside world she can become very deadly. There is a reason why she has survived so long along with our order and that is her undoubted ability to live. The great butcher Uther Pendragon himself did not even dare to touch her territory during his lifetime and that is a unprecedented feat in itself.
And so I was quick to react. What did I know? I knew that Arine is aware of the fact that someone is trying to kill him. I knew that he was smart. I also knew that Arine was a great lover of apples, specifically red ones. So I quickly formed a re-vise on my former plan to just kill him using the very sleek swan feathered arrows from my fine looking bow from a distance to one that would absolutely work without a doubt. I moved quickly, with the silence of a hunting predator till I was about half a mile off in the direction they were heading. "forþframian æppel" I whispered quietly as I felt the strength of the Old Religion flow through me. I raised a hand and from the ground, a green shoot sprouted and grew into a large apple tree bearing delicious fruit. "átor æppel Arine" was the last of the spell as I smiled in satisfaction. I made my exit and hid behind a nearby tree of sizable gait in readiness.
As if my will was law, the company of men came upon the tree and after Arine had made one of the nervous servant boys taste one of the tempting fruit and determined that it was safe, he greedily took one. As soon as the apple's sticky juices hit his throat, Arine stumbled and fell over dead. I love magic, for it is the most useful of arts in the world. The deed was done and now with Arine dead and my fellow sister's task of infiltration complete; the empire that Arine had once ruled over with tyranny would collapse in but a few hours. Justice would be swift and kind, with my sisters making sure that a more clever and more humble king would take over Arine's land and all shall be well after that. Of course, I felt relief over the prospect of this quest being over. After all, it had cost me a few kisses to a few of the gentlemen before me in order to gain the location and time that Arine would be in and I hate to even interact with the opposite sex. After all, men are greedy, lustful and insolent creatures and I damn them to the never world with all due joy.
Satisfied with the end of this tyrant, I travelled west to a small settlement. They were kind to say the least, after I told them that my companions were all killed when a gang of bandits and I was able to escape abet with some difficulty. They gave me food and shelter in return for the bag of coins I handed them for their hospitality. The food and water of course, I rejected since I have no need for such things but I managed to buy a fine mare, and new clothes for the trip. Since these people were kind to me, I left them with no incidents. After all, it would not do well to reveal myself so close to the area of Arine's death for that would create suspicion upon my kind. Plus it was not far from the meeting point, near Raven's Point, and I needed to be off and away before my sisters began to think that I was not coming to meet them.
Raven's Point is a location that looks over the falls of Dhar'man forest. It's made of a large and ancient tree, whose roots have dug for centuries to bind itself to the rock in order to stop the entire organism from falling into the steep waterfalls in high tide. In the spring, many flocks of wild Raven's make nests in the large branches of the tree in order to nurture their young - hence the name.
I arrived earlier then what I expected and began to feel boredom while I waited for my fellow sisters. In this boredom, I hunted and killed three rabbits and one fox in order to sustain me. I was so very hungry, and their blood was almost like human. I had not had human blood for two days now and I am so hungering for it. That's the only problem with my gifts in that to do magic, I have to drink and to survive, I have to drink often. The sisterhood of my coven have existed for many millenia, surving on the blood of our servants in order to sustain and strengthen us. We are not witches, nor are we sorcerers but creatures that exist altogether more exotic lifestyles. The High Mother herself is the only mother we know and we will protect her with our lives. She is our creator and our leader, and the only one we answer to. Of course, many villages have tried to kill us over the years but we have taught them the errors of their ways. Our food source is precious to us, and we will not stand for it to be tainted with dis-allegiance.
Our kind has many gifts aquired through our constant drinking. Magic is one of these gifts along with eternal youth and our ability to control the simple minded to do our will. No simple man can resist our charms and once they become entranced, they are but dolls to us. I, myself, have never drank from a man both out of choice as I have found their blood to be sour. Female blood has always been my first choice, as their blood is sweet and fulfilling, with the blood becoming more so when it is younger. My sisters however drink from men occasionally so I'm saying that everyone doesn't but it just depends on your preference.
Our other attributes are unnatural speed, agility, durability, endurance, strength, reflexes that range according to the amount of blood we drink. A starved sister would have animatistic attributes but would be weaker than normal. So it falls that a starving sister is an easy target while an elder in full health will be near invincible to beat. Our hides are hard and durable except for the neck area which is our most vulnerable spot. A clean sweep of an axe can partially kill a vampire but fire will make sure of its destruction. I saw this once when the mother had sentenced a fellow sister to death due to her immoral relationship with a man that would eventually result in pregnancy. It is considered a taboo in our culture to become with child as it means we risk creating a male hybrid. They are extremely dangerous and often we kill them at birth in order to prevent this. We all hate and fear male children as they are far more powerful than any sister in our clan. Death falls on the mother as well as the father according to our laws in order to prevent any more male offspring and to enforce the law to us all.
Our culture also dictates that the long the hair of a sister, the higher she is in status. My own hair reaches the bottom of my back to the start of my pelvis but the mother has hair reaching longer then two people put together. Often she tells us how she near trips on it due to its length and volume but I also put this down to pride.
Every sister was created and trained to become what she is through a ruthless program that has given birth to many a fine sister. They learn to ignore pain, to obey commands without hesitation and to forget emotional attachment that can mean death in our coven. Graduates who survive this take part in Blo'Shara, a week-long ceremony where a youngling is created by feeding on the blood of a chosen elder. We become blood-sisters through Blo'Shara and are accepted by a successful transformation. From there, you work your way up the ranks till you reach the top. I am the mother's personal assassin and friend, for 534 years I have seen off challenges and I am one of the best. I am not vain, I am not stupid and I am not weak. I am simply ruthless.
The Coven of Essetir is no breeding ground for weaklings.
For two days I patrolled Raven's point, with no sign from any of my sisters. I grew concerned, and after the fifth day I resolved to go to the Coven alone in order to find out why had not my sisters not contacted me by then. The mare was slow and after two days of uninterrupted riding I could sense her become weaker. I put her out of her misery quickly and went past then on foot. I crossed terrain foreign and familiar, and not once did I find any news over my sister's condition. Something must of gone wrong for this to happen.
On the tenth day, I came across a sight that caught my attention like a forest fire. A group of knights dressed in stark red fighting off a horde of barbarians in a gully. They were perhaps a dozen in number and from what I could see; good swordsmen. Numbers however seemed to be steadily overcoming with the knights having become exhausted by the constant bombardment. I knew that the knights would not win in this battle but for some reason I actually wanted them to. Perhaps with these knights around, our food source would become less of an annoyance and more docile. So I fooled them into retreat.
I crouched down near a tree, and snarled in a loud, thunderous voice that would put any person's teeth on edge. The fighting ceased and everyone grew quiet. I crawled to another tree out of sight and snarled again and repeated the action till the barbarians were convinced that they were being hunted. I howled and used a spell in order to create the impression of invisible paws on the snow-covered hills. Invisible hounds were frightening but not as much as a pack. The knights formed a circle while the barbarians fled in terror at the mysterious creatures. The battle was finished and only the knights and the dead remained.
I immersed myself into the shadows and carried on in my quest.