Several days passed and again, Col. Tavington was called to battle. With infamous fearlessness, he charged with his men headlong into the thick of the action, slashing effortlessly with his saber, stabbing hearts and decapitating heads as he went, leaving a trail of blood and bodies in his wake. There was something about this killing, this mass murder of men that drove him on and though he didn't like to admit it, a part of the colonel liked it.
As he charged on, his blood thirst grew and as it did, he noticed a swirling black mist behind him.
Estartae..
Col. Tavington's eyes rounded.
Be aware, though, if you think of it in the wrong way...
Trying to blank his mind of any thought or feeling, Col. Tavington rode on, fighting until the battle ended with a British victory, and he was able to dismount his horse and rest.
"Well done, sir." Capt. Bordon said, coming up to stand beside his commander.
"Thank you, Captain. Yes, another victory for the British. I say, why don't these rustics just give in? They're never going to win."
Capt. Bordon laughed and Col. Tavington smirked.
"Oh well, might as well fight them until the last one dies.."
"I guess so.." replied the captain. "I'm going to gather the men and get the tallies. I'll see you back at camp."
Col. Tavington nodded to his captain and then walked over to the entrance of some nearby woods. It was then that he spotted several figures further in, their bodies glowing white against the darkness of the woods. Creeping into the woods so he could get a better look, Col. Tavington recognized them as Briquet De Vie, and Sephardim was among them.
"Sephardim!" he called.
But she continued to walk gracefully along as if she hadn't heard him.
"Sephardim!" he called again a bit louder, stepping even closer to the group.
No answer.
Finally, growing impatient, Col. Tavington walked up behind Sephardim and grabbed he shoulder.
"Sephardim-"
Without warning Sephardim's white robes turned to a shining black and as the Briquet De Vie turned to face him, Col. Tavington realized with horror that it wasn't Sephardim he had been calling to.
Estartae!
"So, Colonel, we meet again..." Estartae's voice dripped with deadly malice as she thrust out her arm, producing black cords that wrapped around the colonel, quickly binding him to a tree.
"What do you want with me?" Col. Tavington demanded angrily, beginning to get anxious. "I wasn't the one who cursed you!"
"Oh no, but the blood of the one who did runs in your veins." she replied, her red eye glinting evilly.
"Untie me at once!" the colonel shouted, trying to struggle against the bonds, but cried out in pain as he did so.
"I wouldn't struggle, the bonds will cut into your flesh if you do.."
"I demand you set me free! I freed Sephardim, you have what you want!"
"Not quite." Estartate replied.
Holding her left hand palm up, Estartae formed a black ball of chords that wriggled and writhed until it gave way to reveal an ancient yet deadly looking sword.
Col. Tavington inhaled sharply.
"I still need your blood.. Don't worry, dear William, you'll be with your sister very soon.."
Davina..
Thoughts of his sister raced through his mind. Her beautiful face and laughing blue eyes. The way she used to tease them. Everything that he remembered about her came back to him, including her tragic death, right before his eyes.
"Davina.." he cried, his voice nearly inaudible.
Suddenly, there was a flash of white light and Col. Tavington could feel the energy draining from him as his eyes began to roll into the back of his head.
"It's alright. You're safe now.." a familiar voice whispered in his ear. "Rest now, young Tavington..."