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There’s still one step… One healing word reserved exclusively for this spell, that undoes the damage of the poison and seals the wound.
And I can’t remember it.
I can feel myself about to collapse onto the ground, about to be overtaken by either poison or blood loss.
The forest grows hazy around me, and memories play through my mind of climbing trees as a child. On one occasion, I climbed to the top of the tallest tree in the forest. I was so proud. I thought I might be able to impress somebody into being my friend.
Doubt overtook me when I remembered that I was alone, regardless of how many times I tried to prove my value. I wasn’t going to suddenly change anybody’s mind by becoming an expert tree climber.
My hand slipped, and I fell to the cold ground below before waking up in a hut filled with steam. That’s where I first read the spell, in a book beside the bed I woke up in.
“Havaernic!”
I gasp as the air returns to my lungs and my body snaps awake.
Knowledge fills my mind, coming from an indeterminate source. It enters me as though it is familiar knowledge I’ve known all along.
The ichor I found is demonic, coming from an ancient being. It was left here thirty minutes ago.
I squint as a hazy green fog enters my vision, seemingly leading me to the source.
This is my one chance to prove my name. Whatever foul creature committed these heinous acts doesn’t care for the sanctity of life and certainly doesn’t care about my well-being.
Despite every instinct, I need to be as cruel as the worst dark elf, showing no mercy.
I need to fight with everything in me.
I follow the foggy path deep into the woods, unsure of what to expect.
4
RUKH
The chilly night air carries the musky scent of my prey on the breeze – a fair-sized draek that should satiate nicely. I stalk through the moonlit forest, leaves and twigs silent under my centuries-practiced steps. The trees part ahead in a misty glade, shafts of silver moonlight illuminating a towering beast at its center. It bows its regal head, antlers lowered as it grazes, oblivious to the predator approaching for the kill.
Crouched low, I creep forward with lethal grace, every sense trained on my prize. Saliva pools in my mouth as I envision the satisfaction of the hunt fulfilled. Just a few more silent steps and I will be upon it.
But then it hits me. A subtle pulse of magic shimmering through the glade.
I freeze, attuning my senses. Movement lurks at the far edge of the clearing. A human woman, I realize, watching me intently. What catches my eye is the flash of fiery hair half-hidden behind a mossy stump. A little witch with the audacity to interrupt my hunt?
I should rip her apart where she cowers, but better to let her make the first move and fail. Toying with her could prove an entertaining sport.
I turn back to my prey, its earthy musk flooding my senses. The promise of its warm lifeblood is tantalizingly close.
I circle wide, approaching downwind, my passage undetected. Crouched low, I glide between moon-cast shadows. My prey remains focused on grazing, unaware of the silent predator nearing.
Let it live its final moments in peace. Soon its life shall sustain me.
Once in position, I apply paralytic oil to each claw, readying my deadly dose. I flex my talons eagerly, then creep forward with precision.
At the critical moment, I leap, sailing through chilled air to land atop the beast's back. My claws pierce deep, seeking its veins as I deliver the venom. It bucks wildly, but my grip holds firm. The paralysis takes swift effect. I bare my fangs in victory as the beast collapses beneath me.
But before claiming my prize, the witch remains to be addressed. I turn to her with a menacing glare.
“Vile creature!" she cries out. "Why are you here?"
“Oh, sweet little field mouse. I must tell you, incurring my wrath would not be wise." I laugh, turning back to my prey. She should not be foolish enough to question a demon.
