DISCLAIMER: Maid-chan doesn't own castlevania. Maid-chan is writing this for your enjoyment and gains no profit from it, aside from your love and happy comments. Maid-chan would like you to know that there is yaoi in this fanfic, but none in this particular chapter.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: By the Light, Judgement, Night, Snows and the Divine tree itself! We've made it to chapter 10!!! Merry Christmas everyone! While I didn't quite get this chapter up by Christmas like I'd hoped, its still in the general Christmas area, so still counts. Another project has kept me from submitting this sooner. I'm still working on said project and might I just say I am very VERY sorry that I was unable to submit it along with this chapter?

As you might be able to tell, I got lazy with the Alura Une/Venus weed and just referred to it as an Une for this chapter. Also, I realize that Unes don't poison people, but I thought it was a nice touch. Don't tell me Richter needs to stop getting hurt. When you get into a fight, you're bound to get hurt, so its reasonable.
Also, I don't know if you can drug people with leaves. I'm making this up as I go along since I have no knowledge whatsoever of herb lore.

And a side note to my dear reviewers Siberian, Beth and Dom. Let me just say I appreciate you now more than ever before :'D -hugsandluff-

Flight

Richter found himself spending the remainder of the week in the hedgewitch's company.

It was strange, falling back into a routine that did not involve trekking through the forest for days on end or doing battle against some sort of monster that had caught him unawares. After the first two days, he had realized that his pack, bedroll, coin and everything else Maria had given him had been left behind in that ruined cottage back when he had fought the Manticore. He would have gone back for them, but the herbalist bundled him back into bed, telling him that he was not well enough yet, and besides, the local fleamen would have taken advantage of anything left behind anyway. It was a sorrowing thought, losing everything that she had given him, but there was nothing that could be done.

The hedgewitch herself was interesting company, however, despite always being busy with brewing some elixir, going out to gather plants or tending to the few townspeople that could not get their remedies directly from the wayside house along the traveler's road. As the young woman had explained, the only people she normally saw were the local woodsmen and the priests of the wayside chapel when they had run low on her remedies.

She was strange but welcoming, declining payment of any kind for her hospitality, insisting that it was enough to see him well and on his way again. When he was finally allowed out of bed, Richter found himself spending his days wandering the forest's edge, looking out over the traveler's road to the town visible in the distance. Often he found himself helping the herbalist with domestic chores; chopping wood, hunting, and at one point, nailing the dried barb of the Manticore's tail above her doorpost.

But lately she had seemed on edge, wary and nervous. She did the day's tasks with trembling hands, jumping at the slightest of noises. The hunter had awoken in the early hours of morning only to find the door banging on its hinges again, the herbalist with tears in her eyes, sitting at the table in a mess of bandages, various cuts on the visible skin and dark bruises on her wrists. She had told him that the weather affected her this way and it was nothing to concern himself over.

Richter was alarmed to hear her shrieking one day, only to run indoors and find that Penna had flown in through the window and startled her, which in turn had caused her knife to slip and a large slash to appear across her left hand. Following her orders, he had helped to clean the wound and then bandage it, and the hedgewitch had commented sourly on how he wasn't very good. When he demanded to know what it was that had her so afraid, she laughed and shook her head.

"It's nothing, traveler." She said simply, smiling bravely as if that were the end of the matter. "I just didn't expect Penna to come flying in as she did." The two of them looked over at the raven, who was crouched on her perch, wings half spread. The hunter was surprised when the bird hissed at him, snapping at his fingers when he reached out to smooth her feathers. "Leave her be." She added, shaking her head. "Penna was just as surprised as I was."

He had had to content himself with the excuse that it was just an accident. Still, the days were getting colder and the howl of wolves had begun to assail the forest air. He couldn't help but wonder if this had something to do with her fear.

Still, even injured, she refused his help in concocting potions, saying that it was a fine art that he lacked skill in.

"You stick to your monster slaying, traveler; I will keep to my potions." Her face had been grave, but her words had been light and cheerful. "Now away with you. Let me cook in peace."

He had no choice but to let her be.

--

The dream returned to him that night.

The sky, broken overhead. The beasts raining down from its wounds. The screams and torture and agony that accompanied their fall. No matter where he ran, the creatures surrounded him, baying his name, snarling and slavering. He found himself trapped in a ring of the demons; Buer and Ghoul, Skeleton and Valkyrie, Orc and Necromancer. Laughing and snarling, they lunged for him with claw and feather, staff and sword. He groped at his side for Vampire Killer, feeling a thrill of dread when he realized the holy whip was not there. The creatures circled closer and closer, their bodies wet with the falling blood rain, his own clothes and hair saturated by the thick droplets. He stumbled to avoid a flailing tail, slipping in a puddle of red and falling. Sitting upon his rear before these monsters, he could not help but feel like it was a vision of hell and its demons. He had fallen so low; the blight was so dark upon him. Here he would stay, torn apart by these beasts for eternity…

Something lightly touched his shoulder, causing him to lift his head. Standing before him in the thick rain was that moonlight pale figure from the depths of his memory. The beasts that had surrounded him were reduced to corpses in a bloody ring. Not one drop of red fell upon the pale flesh nor marred the silver-blonde hair as the other man stared down at him, holding out a hand to help him up.

Pulling the hunter to his feet in one smooth, graceful motion, he leaned close until they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest. Soft lips brushed his ear as the other man spoke in a silver whisper.

"Do not lose hope."

Richter felt that gloved hand brush against his own, sliding something into his palm. His fingers closed around the familiar handle, a tingle of warmth spreading up his arm as he realized what it was that the other man had given him. He looked up, deep blue eyes meeting golden as the noble pulled away. His expression turned from bewildered to a determined, a glimmer of his former fierceness cracking the shell of the man he had become. And golden eyes watched on, a slight nod of the head his only acknowledgement.

And then he had melted into the darkness, leaving Richter alone once again. But Vampire Killer was in his hand, even as new beasts surrounded him and the rain fell thicker than ever. Wielding the holy whip, he brought them down even as they screamed his name and ran at him, snarling and yowling with the intent to kill. He fought them off and held them back. He was in control now.

--

He awoke the next morning feeling alive and refreshed. It was no surprise to find that the door was banging on its hinges again; but when he got up to latch it, he found the hedgewitch standing outside in the clearing staring vacantly at the trees. Penna was perched on the young woman's hand, and she was stroking the raven's feathers absently. It was her expression that unnerved him, however. That look of grave seriousness creasing her lips into a frown, her one good eye filled with a fear and sorrow beyond his understanding.

Donning his coat, he stepped outside to join her, his appearance heralded by Penna giving a squeaky chirrup. The hedgewitch turned, a smile upon her lips, though her eye remained troubled.

"Good morning, traveler." She said softly. "I made porridge. It's still warming over the fire." She had never asked for his name, not once, since he had awoken. He had tried to formally introduce himself the second day he had stayed in her company, but she had quickly turned away and shaken her head saying that if she did not know who he was, she could not say anything on his whereabouts. He was under the suspicion that she knew exactly who she was taking care of, but if she were to later be questioned by the villagers or priests, she would not have the truth of his name to condemn her as an accomplice to the devil. "There is a tree not too far from here." She motioned with one sleeve into the woods. "Full of bees. We were thinking of gathering honey to go with the meal, but you woke before we could surprise you." She chuckled.

He blinked, looking at her in surprise. "Oh… it's no trouble. Really."

But the herbalist shook her head, lifting her finger to the opposite shoulder, so Penna could perch there more comfortably. "You're welcome to come along with us." She said cheerfully. "It shouldn't take long. Just light a little fire, smoke them out then make back here with the goods. I haven't tasted honey in a while, and didn't think we'd be able to come across any so late in the year. Fortune smiles upon us today." Stretching slowly, she walked back to the cottage and disappeared inside, only to emerge a moment later with an oiled cloth. "We'll be back soon." She nodded before throwing the cloth over her unoccupied shoulder and disappearing across the clearing and into the dark wood.

Richter watched her go, still wondering just what it was that had her so terrified. Surely nothing in the forest otherwise she wouldn't be entering it so freely. Nobody from the town had come up for any sort of reason, so it could not be fear of the townsfolk either. He could only assume it was something else entirely.

Puzzled, he returned to the cottage, got himself a bowl and went over to the fireplace where an iron pot was resting above the embers. He was halfway through breakfast when he heard a soft tapping on the windowsill. Looking up from his bowl, he was completely surprised to find a slender face surrounded by luscious red curls peering in through the window. The succubus, it appeared, was surprised to see him too; thin eyebrows were arched high above wide, golden eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments, both completely baffled by each other's presence before Richter was lunging for Vampire Killer and the succubus was taking flight. The herbalist had said that this part of Walachia was overrun by the lascivious demons, but he had never imagined that they would come up to her very home… and in broad daylight, no less.

All but barreling out of the door, he ran into the clearing only to be confronted by the she-demon floating languidly in the air before him, one leg crossed over the other as though she sat in a chair. He kept his eyes on her face and did not let them travel, for she did not wear anything other than the tight corset over her breast. But hers was a face he knew very well; she was the exact same succubus that had haunted his dreams, given him the premonition of Annette's death, taunted him with the stinging memory of the dark castle.

"I had heard…" she drawled. "That my dear lady had a guest and that I wasn't allowed to visit her any longer… but I did not realize it was you! This is a surprise. A surprise indeed." She smiled, a sensual display of lips and teeth. "Pray tell, what are you doing here, Belmont? I thought you were dead."

"Monster!" He cried. "I do not have to answer to the likes of you!"

Her smile faded and she regarded him sourly. "Big words from the little man who sits all the way down there. You're so savage, Belmont. I don't think your little whip can reach me up here. However…" She drew a phial out from where it was tucked away between her breasts. From where he stood, he could see that it was filled with a liquid so dark red that it was almost black. "Do you know what this is, Belmont?" She asked, floating above him and drawing rose from her hair. She held it aloft before her like one holding a vessel of wine, uncorking the phial and pouring three droplets of its contents into the white petals. Even from his vantage point on the ground, he could clearly see the red droplets in stark contrast to the pale petals, leaving a trail of black and decay when they trickled downward to the flower's center. "It's a delightful little concoction that turns the ordinary into the extraordinary. Behold!"

She threw the rose at him, stem end first, laughing as he cried out and leapt out of the way. Flares of pain shot through limbs that were only now just beginning to regain their strength. The Manticore poison had taken a greater toll on his body than he had realized and the antidote was still being administered to him to work against this.

But as he got back to his feet, he looked towards the rose only to find the stem buried deep into the ground. Thorny tendrils were sprouting from its base and the flower itself was growing, swelling, spreading. He recognized the motions and gasped in horror, raising his eyes to the she-demon floating oh so casually overhead.

"What have you done?!" He demanded, wide eyed.

His question was greeted with a cruel smile and narrowed eyes. "What does it look like I've done? I've birthed an Une. And not by my blood." She winked, waggling a finger at him. "I can't reveal all our secrets. It takes the fun out of our game. Will you survive this round, Belmont? Or will it be game over for you?"

Shrieking with laughter, she twisted elegantly, floating in a lazy circle before beating her wings and disappearing into the cloudless sky. Richter turned his attention to the writhing tendrils before him, watching with a heavy heart as the white rose throbbed and grew. A soft sigh broke the silence of the clearing, and two slender, delicate hands stretched out from the heart of the flower. Instants later it was blooming, revealing a small, delicate young woman perched in its center. She yawned, blinking owlishly, then settled her wide eyed gaze upon the tense hunter and smiled.

She was a beautiful little thing, but Richter knew better than to be deceived by her. Clapping her hands in silent delight, she raised an arm and pointed at him with a soft 'ah!' of excitement. Richter swore, leaping into the air and running as soon as his feet hit the ground again. It was a good thing that he did, for the same thorny tendrils that surrounded the base of the Une's rose had driven themselves into the ground and were now lurching up in places he had been standing only a split second before. They twisted and wriggled, showering the hunter with earth, thorns shimmering in the morning light. Grim faced, he whirled about, striking at them with Vampire Killer and severing many in the process. The delicate girl in the rose cried out in pain, looking at the fallen thorns with an expression of horror. She raised her eyes to the hunter, frowning darkly and thrust her hand out. Once again Richter was running to avoid the flailing tendrils.

He knew that she was a plant at the very end of it all, and that no matter how many tendrils he cut off, more would just replace them. A plant and a beast. He would have to strike the girl to truly do away with this creature. He continued to run, towards her this time rather than away from her, Vampire Killer's chain flashing in the morning light. The blow caught her across her fair chest, raising a dark green mark, akin to the bruises of a flower crushed underfoot. She whimpered, her soft voice pitiful and with tears in her eyes sent yet another wave of thorns at him.

Even as he leapt over and dodged these ones, the Une was not yet done with him. Three small white roses appeared between her fingers, and it was these that she threw at him whilst he ran. He cried out sharply as two of them met their mark; one barbed deep into his shoulder, the other in his leg. The girl clapped, a sound like a babbling brook escaping her lips. It was laughter. Delighted laughter.

Whilst the tendrils flailed viciously around him, Richter proceeded to hurriedly rip one flower from his leg. Glancing towards the plant demon again, he saw she was already preparing a fresh attack against him and had no choice but to run again. Even as he did, a sharp, agonizing pain made itself known in his shoulder, his lips parting in a scream of agony as the white rose darkened; the petals slowly but surely turning a deep, blood red. The creature was draining him, of strength and blood, so as to heal its own wounds. Already the green mark across its breast had disappeared.

With a trembling hand, he tore the bloodied rose from his shoulder, feeling a rush of weakness and nausea overcome him once the stem was clear of his flesh. He dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, blackness wavering across his vision before suddenly becoming aware of the tendrils that lay just below the ground. Cursing heavily, he rolled to the side, just as the first came bursting out of the ground, followed by another and another. He kept on rolling, away from the creature, until no more came after him.

Getting quickly to his feet, he lunged at the Une again, striking hard and fast. The green wounds reappeared on her flesh, she clutched at her throat, whimpering as sticky green sap poured from it. Seizing the opportunity, he struck again and again and again until the creature let out an anguished gargle and he was knocked off his feet by one of the flailing tendrils. There was obvious fear in the delicate girl's eyes as she clutched at her wounds, examined the sap with horror. With another gargle, the thorns ceased their attack upon the hunter and turned upon their master, forming a cage around her so that the hunter's whip might no longer bring her grief.

Richter growled in frustration, lashing out at the protective cage she had made for herself, only to swear as one of the tendrils left the group and shot at him. He ducked and it buried itself into a nearby tree, twisting and flailing, but unable to free itself. Getting to his feet, he frowned. There would be no way he could cut the blasted thing, it would just grow back and rejoin the circle of thorns in protecting the Une. He would have to pin down all, or at least most of, the tendrils to get at the young woman herself. If he could just make a large enough gap in her shield, he would be able to finish her off.

The Une was watching him with terrified eyes, more roses growing from between her delicate fingers. She cast them at him with a whimper, but they were quickly batted away by the Holy Whip. He circled her slowly, watching her between the writhing green bars, watching her eyes and the fear and desperation that were beginning to show. She looked like a woman but acted like a child. He hoped his slow, deliberate movements would be enough to terrify her into doing something rash.

A few minutes later, he got his wish. The girl in the rose fidgeted nervously, crying out every time Richter lunged at her vines but did not strike. Eventually, she got so panicky and nervous, that when he made to lunge again, she shrieked, raising both hands, and pointed at him. All the bars of her little cage flew at him, and at once he was rolling out of the way and running towards her, hand tense around Vampire Killer.

He struck and struck again, but still she refused to fall, even with all the wounds upon her small body. She was weeping and it was a pitiful sound, her body broken and mangled, the pale green sap pouring from her wounds. Richter was exhausted. All the leaping, running, attacking. He did not know if he would have the strength to last another round. He had to finish this and it had to be now. Even as the thorns were once again sliding into place around her rose, he hacked and slashed at her, hoping desperately it would be enough to finish her. But even as he continued his assault, one long, snaking tendril whipped out, striking him viciously across the face and sending him spinning away.

He fell with a rather hard thud, blood pouring from the horizontal gash across his cheek. It was not deep, but it was painful. He vaguely wondered if the Une's thorns were poisoned too.

The creature itself was watching him with angry eyes and a pout across its lovely lips. The tendrils were lowered, but he found that pulling himself back to his feet was a grueling task. His arms felt like lead weights as he lifted Vampire Killer again and took a few steps towards her. He had to finish this. Now, now. Soon he would not have the strength to go on.

It was then that the Une let out a terrible scream as something shot across the clearing and embedded itself into her side. Richter gasped and lurched back, surprised by this sudden attack. A crossbow bolt, wrapped in an oiled cloth. He realized that the bolt had little flickers of pale orange fire lighting it, fire that was spreading to the Une's flesh, blazing into life the moment it caught upon the sap that poured form her body. Within moments she was a twisting figure in a flaming rose, tendrils lashing at the sudden blaze, only to be caught and reduced to cinders as well. She would be no more than ash in a handful of minutes.

He looked across the clearing to where the shot had come from, surprised to find the hedgewitch with a satchel slung over her shoulder and a crossbow in her ruined hand. She ignored the Une completely and stumbled up to him, lifting his chin so that she could examine the gash on his cheek.

"There is an irritant in those thorns that will have you tearing at the wound whilst you try to sleep…" she said softly, frowning. "Quickly, come inside. We need to wash it out." Without waiting for an answer or heeding any of the questions he asked, she tossed her crossbow aside and dragged him back into the cottage.

--

The remainder of the day was spent over a cup of tea, with the hunter pressed into describing every detail of his encounter with the Une and the Succubus to the hedgewitch. As she listened to his tale unfold, her expression only grew darker and graver. Once he was done, she checked his wound again, slathering it with a sort of balm, and warned him not to touch it.

"It can get much worse than it already is. A little itch turns into a tearing fire that has you ripping the flesh from your body if you scratch it long enough. I've seen enough villagers die from little Une wounds than anything else." She stood up, picking along her shelves for something and returning with a small jar of tiny leaves. They were dried, of course, and looked as though they would crumble into powder with the slightest touch.

"These will help the wound heal faster." She said softly, crumbling a pinch into his teacup. "Make sure you drink it all and quickly. It is quite bitter and the taste tends to linger." She gazed at him silently while he drank, her face the very picture of misery. "Forgive me, traveler."

He looked up from his cup, blinking owlishly at the sudden fogginess that was clouding his eyes. "Hedgewitch, what…?" He blinked again, shaking his head, trying to clear his rapidly blurring vision. With a groan, he slumped forward, hearing a roaring noise in his ears, the world around his spinning and quickly turning black. Still, even as the cup dropped from his hand and he felt a faint thud as his body hit the floor, the witch's whispered words were loud in the quiet room.

"I do it for your safety. Please, forgive me."

--

When he opened his eyes, he was laying spread eagled in a circle of carcasses. He blinked, confused, sitting up and glancing around. He recognized this scene from a dream before, remembered the sky rent with holes and blood pouring from the heavens above. The carcasses were those of monsters, the same monsters that he remembered slaying only moments ago. Vampire Killer lay in his outstretched hand. He got to his feet and stepped out of the ring, looking around in surprise.

The sky was still wounded, but out of those wounds poured weak shafts of blue light. Intrigued, he wandered this dark abyss, his shadow long as he passed by those circles of light, the Holy whip coiled and ready in his hand. A low sob alerted him to another presence in the darkness and he was immediately tense and on his guard. Yet the noise was soft and heart-wrenching, the sound of a woman mourning in the deep abyss of night.

He gazed ahead and saw that in a particularly large halo of light, a monstrous demon lay crouched and bent, its body composed of flame, its visible skin red-gold. It had a face like a leering animal's skull, two long horns protruding just above where the ears should have been, its eye sockets empty and hollow. Golden claws were bound behind its wide back with a sort of smoky, insubstantial wisp that had the vague form of manacles and chain. Its flame hued body was bound much the same way, trussed like a pig.

It was silent, its head lowered, its fearsome jaws parted, displaying row upon row of golden teeth. It took him a moment to realize that the soft weeping was coming from that brutal maw, that tears were building in the corners of those dark eye sockets, only to travel down the beast's snout and fall with a soft hiss upon the illuminated ground.

Whatever manner of creature this was, it did not notice him beyond its pallid circle. It sobbed quietly, heartbreakingly. And at length, a soft voice slid from those parted jaws, though the creature's mouth did not move.

"You drive me too hard, you bleed me too freely. I weep with agony and you care not." It was the voice of a woman, garbled and distorted with the flames of fire and the hiss of smoke, accompanied by the gravelly roar of a demon. It shifted in its smoky chains, its movements like one trying to break them apart in bestial contrast to that indistinct voice.

"You told me that you loved me, my lady." More tears slid down the beast's snout. "You told me that no harm would befall me. But he is breaking me, he is destroying me. Even in your embrace here and now, I feel like I am dying. I'm dying, my lady. And you say you will not raise a hand to my aid."

He noticed that the monster was quivering, that weak flames had ignited along its broad, strong back.

"No more, my lady. I can take this no more. I do not share your dream! I love you, you and only you, but if this continues, if I continually come to harm…" another sob broke past the creature's maw. "… do you promise me? After tonight, everything will be as it was long ago?" A thoughtful silence. "Very well. Give me one more night. And then you shall have what you desire. He shall have what he desires. But never forget. I love you, my dear lady bat…"

The tears ceased to flow and the beast growled low in contentment. It raised its head slowly, looking beyond the circle for the first time. Upon seeing Richter the jaw snapped shut, the empty eyes piercing him, revealing the two pinpoints of fire deep within. It was as though a dormant creature had awoken, as though the voice that had been speaking was not the monster's own. Fury radiated from it and it struggled against its chains, a fierce roar escaping it as it rose up upon the insubstantial wisp of its lower body and towered over him. Wrapped in its chains, it could not harm him, but the anger and hatred that rolled off the creature were enough to send him staggering backwards, away from the halo of light.

Its former anguish and reasoning were gone now. It was just another mindless beast. Even as he drew Vampire Killer again, it shifted against its bonds and lunged at him, engulfing him in a whirlwind of fire. A hot, burning coil of air blew up around him and he cried out, desperately trying to shield his eyes from the flames. It was like fleeing the fire in his home all over again. He drew in a breath only to find thick smoke clouding his lungs, spears of pain shooting through him as the fire seared his skin…

And then he woke, lurching up, choking and coughing and gasping for breath. The soft crackle of a fire was nearby, but a chill wind told him that he was out in the open. He looked around, realizing that he could not see the sky overhead. Only trees. Trees that grew tall and high, stretching to the heavens. And around their bases was the usual scattering of shrubbery, smaller plants and thorns. The hedgewitch was seated before the fire, her sleeves trailing in the leaf litter. She looked up at him as he turned his gaze upon her, her good eye filled with sorrow. There were deep wounds in the marred side of her body, wounds that were left unbound. They had saturated her robe with blood.

"Welcome back, traveler." She said softly, rising to her feet and shuffling over to him. "Please, rouse yourself quickly. We do not have much time."

He was horrified by her appearance, enough so that the question of why she had drugged him and brought him out into the woods completely slipped from his mind. "You're injured!" He cried. "Hedgewitch, what happened to you?! Tell me what's going on!"

The herbalist smiled weakly, brushing a blood soaked lock of hair from her ruined eye. "You are in grave danger." She said softly, shaking her head. "There is an incubus making his way here right now to do away with you, now that he knows you live. In your state, even with Vampire Killer, I fear for you. He has made a pact with the devil and it will take far more than a normal attack to defeat him." She lowered her head. "As much as it sorrows me and pains me that this cannot be finished now, you must flee. Please, I beg you."

"But you…" he motioned to her wounds. "What of this? You're wounded…"

She shook her head, lightly touching her sleeve. "These are nothing. Mere cuts and grazes. They will heal, traveler. Worry not about me."

"I can stand up to any monster." Richter replied fiercely. "Let me help you! If your wounds are not seen to… you'll die!" Where were they? How had they managed to get so far out into the forest? Surely she had not carried him here. His mind whirled with the questions, but all that passed his lips was concern for the herbalist and her crippling injuries. But she smiled a ghost of a smile and shook her head, taking her satchel from where it lay beside her and pressing it into his hands.

"No. They will heal on their own. Trust me. Take this and run. " She lowered his head, watching him from beneath bloody bangs when he did not move. "It would be no use fighting him, traveler." She sighed. "He is no regular demon; there is old magic in his veins. Even with Vampire Killer you would be hard pressed to even wound him. He knows you have not fully recovered from the poison." To his surprise, tears were pooling in the corner of her good eye. "Please. Free my conscience from its dreary cell. Take flight and hide yourself in the town. Go through the forest where it is thickest so that you lose him." She sniffled, rubbing violently at her eye. "I brought you out here for a reason. He cannot tear your whereabouts from you if you do not know where you are yourself."

Richter stared at her, unsure of what she was telling him. "What are you saying, my lady…?"

"Run away lest he find you and tear you limb from limb. You cannot die, hunter! Not now, not this way!" she cried, her eyes wide and afraid as she stared up at him. Moments later they were calm once again, half hidden beneath the dark locks of her hair. "I beg of you." She said softly. "I have been a fool. If you flee, if you live, I will truly know that my brash actions are amended. That I will be forgiven for the weight of what I have done." She lifted her hand to her hood, drawing her raven from where it hid beneath the rough cloth. "Go now. Take Penna with you. Cut yourself a trail through the forest before hiding yourself in town. Penna can take you through the deepest parts unscratched and safe. He will no doubt follow you, but that incubus doesn't know the forest like Penna and I. Follow her, traveler. She will keep you safe."

"What of you?" He shook his head. "How will I know that you will come to no harm?"

The hedgewitch drew her robe closer around her shoulders. "My beloved will protect me. You have never seen, nor ever met, but… I will remain safe. Do not concern yourself with me. I have remained safe thus far and I know that I shall continue to, even now. A wound can heal and anger can fade given time. But time is running short for you and I and you must be on your way now. Go, dear traveler." She touched his cheek. "Consider this payment for the time you and I have shared. Run."

He clasped her hand in his own for the briefest instant. "I shall not forget this." He said softly. "Be safe, my friend."

And with that he had turned, following the raven as it croaked, slipping between the gnarled trunks of the trees. It was not long before the small circle of light that the fire had given off had disappeared. In the cold and the darkness, he ran after the bird, leaving the hedgewitch far behind.

--

It felt as though he had run for an eternity. Twisting between the trees and stumbling over the thorns. Penna always flew ahead, a blot of darkness against darkness, the raven's croaks and whistles the only thing guiding him. He followed her faithfully, assured by the hedgewitch's word that no harm would come to him.

Yet as they went on, the air grew cold. A white mist clouded the trees and everything around him. Once again he felt alone, though Penna was right there with him.

But then the raven suddenly died.

She gave no warning, no sign that she was in pain or ailing, but suddenly dropped out of the sky and fell at his feet with a wail of pure anguish. Even as he lurched forward and took the bird into his hands, the life dulled from its eyes. She went limp and lay silent. And the silence stretched and wound itself around him, the cold penetrating his body so deeply that he could not even shiver in retaliation.

Here he was, alone in the forest. Lost without a soul to guide him, with little food to keep him nourished. He should have been afraid. Yet there was no fear in him.

The cold was so deep, so chilling. How could he feel anything? He held the dead bird to his chest and quietly whispered a prayer. Not one for his own safety, but for the safety of the raven's master.

Tonight they would both need God's grace to see it through to the morning.

Reviews would be niiice :'D
Keep me motivated, my lovelies! Things will only get more heated and interesting from this point forward!

And I actually mean it this time.