#technically it would make more sense if it had moose antlers since i did used to go by the name moosekat (its still my discord name too) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corpse--diem · 4 years

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Once More, With Feeling | Morgan, Rebecca, Nell & Erin

Takes place around mid-March.

@mor-beck-more-problems / @exorciseyourspirit / @nelllraiser

Morgan couldn’t remember what she had imagined when she and Nell agreed to gather up a sacrifice for Erin’s ritual. The moose had been decided in advance after a brief consultation with the mortician (So what would you say your dad’s favorite animal was? If he was an animal, would he be the same one?) and Nell had known where all the choice moose grounds were. Maybe she had thought they’d hold out some berries and make some nice transcendent connection like in some new agey painting. Maybe she imagined some kind of magic lasso situation before popping the elixer in. Whatever ideas she’d had, it hadn’t involved getting swatted in the face by its tail or falling into the mud. Still, moss-covered and muddy, they managed to make it from the woods to the mortuary. Morgan waved to Erin from the driveway, smiling as best she could. “Okay!” She said to Nell, still a little out of breath. “We made it! This is good! And thanks again, making sure I didn’t get a black eye. I really don’t wanna bug your mom for another healing so soon.”

It’d been a moment since Nell had caught anything so large as a moose, but she was certainly up for the challenge the creatures posed. Though the creatures weren’t normally aggressive, that generally only stood true for when they were unprovoked. And Nell was fairly certain capturing one counted as...provoking it. She was something of a mirror image to Morgan with mud and grass, but a bright grin was one her lips, some of her adrenaline keeping her on that high as she helped the other witch lead the moose in. “We made it!” she exclaimed, all too thrilled with how things had turned out thus far. “Yeah, and she would have asked too many questions if she’d had to heal you this quickly. But thanks for making sure I didn’t get literally kicked in the butt.” Her smile dropped in the slightest, remembering the danger Morgan had been put in. Nevertheless, she followed Morgan’s lead in waving towards Erin eagerly, a hand pointing towards the moose in question as if she were presenting a prize. “We got the moose! Isn’t he pretty?” He was, indeed, the finest moose specimen they could find. Generally the stronger and more handsome a beast— the better when it came to sacrifices. “So uh- do we have...a way to get this guy where we need him once he’s inside?”

Erin didn’t know where the question about her dad’s favorite animal was going to go. Maybe she naively assumed they were going to channel a moose god or whatever it was these people got up to, but when they hauled a whole damn moose up her driveway? Erin was speechless. Who was she to question them, though? They were here to help her, right? She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from yelling, but threw on a pained, welcoming face. “Beautiful,” she tried to reply with equal gusto, faltering halfway through. Okay, she couldn’t do this anymore. “Before I let you bring this large, live animal into my home,” she gestured towards the elevator door usually meant for caskets and bodies. “Why are we bringing a fucking moose in here?” Rebecca hadn’t prepared her for this. And even if she had tried to, this was all starting to seem like a horrible idea.

Rebecca had arrived early, just as she’d told Erin she would. Morgan and Nell were fetching the sacrifice-- a word that still made her shudder, blood magic was not something she often liked-- as Rebecca set to work getting the basement ready. She could hear the poor severed body scratching away at the door, begging to be let out. All it wanted was to do whatever the wish that brought it to life told it to. But it wasn’t that simple. Even after that, he would still be around. A true curse. Morgan and Rebecca knew about that, didn’t they? Rebecca’s vision blurred a moment and she blinked it away before she continued to etch little canels into the floor. Pathways for the blood to run through and connect, making the circle. Symbols on the inside would need to be redrawn in blood, but she’d chalked them out so that all three of them could work on that part once the ritual began. Sitting back, she examined her work. Nearly done. Just on time it seemed, as she heard voices from upstairs. She went back over to her bag and dug out her notes, getting to work setting out the incense in the places she’d noted on her sheet.

Morgan looked at Erin incredulously. “You want to do this right, yeah?” She said, still bright, patting the moose gently on the back. “Equivalent exchange! We get out what we get in. And we need to get out a lot, so--” She waved her hand, ta-da style. She lead the way towards the garage. It seemed roomy enough, and there was some promising looking machinery that might be moose friendly. Moosey wasn’t going to be around much longer, the less distressed he was the better, she felt, but they also needed to make this happen. They’d take care of Moosey’s remains after, and the sacrifice would be quick. Morgan had looked at diagrams of Moose anatomy so she’d know where to cut and how deep. “Hey, Rebecca--?” She called. Exchanging a look with Nell. Keeping Erin on board hadn’t been part of the plan, but maybe they could keep her reassured together.

Nell nodded along with Morgan’s words, as if this was the obvious answer. “Exactly! And if we don’t have enough to exchange well...it’s never good. And plus— you said your dad reminded you of a moose, right?” Nell finished, as if that was the clearest explanation she’d ever given in her entire life. Nell didn’t mind having Erin present, though. In truth, it might help things along if she wanted to donate a bit of her own blood, and she’d said as much to Rebecca online. With consent, of course. And no more than just a bit. She followed along the moose, bringing up the rear as they toddled along. Meanwhile, bringing up the caboose of the parade behind Nell was what appeared to be an enormous black cat brought up the rear in the form of Taki, tail proudly waving through the air as if he’d been the one to catch the moose. “Is Rebecca...here?”

Erin didn’t have the energy to fight this. She’d proclaimed numerous times she’d do what she needed to in order to get rid of her undead father and if bringing in a fucking moose was what it was going to take? “At this point, we might as well,” she ran two worried hands down the sides of her cheeks, holding back the horror in her chest. Her eyes were on the moose the whole time as she led them to the elevator. Thankfully, they’d managed to capture a smaller one, but big enough that his antlers barely fit through the frame of the door. She stood outside, shutting the door. Glass shattered as the elevator descended. Probably a light fixture. Or five. This was all for a reason. This was fine, she kept telling herself. “She’s downstairs. And probably not at all ready to greet a moose while she sets up.” Erin took to the stairs that led to where the elevator opened up in the basement, motioning for Nell to follow. “You know, you never did tell me how you managed to break in here,” she said offhand, trying to distract herself from the moose that was stepping into her basement. This was fine. This was totally fine. “What, uh--what do you need me to do?” She asked when they finally were all in the basement, moose party-of-one included.

The elevator dinged and Rebecca looked up from her work, going over to the door, but standing aside. She knew what was expected behind the door, as it slid open and a nervous looking Erin came into view. “Oh, good! You were able to find one. Is it calmed, like we discussed?” she asked Morgan, looking over to Nell. She was younger than her online presence made her seem, but Rebecca could already sense the amount of power the girl held. As she ushered them in, she finished setting up the last candle and went to stand on the other side of the circle. “We’ll get this all set up before we grab your--” she stopped herself. Was it insensitive to say father? Probably, “--the corpse--” Oh, that wasn’t much better, “--Do we have anything to restrain him with?”

Morgan held up the empty elixir bottle triumphantly for Rebecca to see. “Moosey is in a great place right now, and I’ve done the research legwork to make this a quick one.” Suffering wasn’t an ingredient in the ritual, so she wasn’t keen on creating any. She pet the creature’s fur, scratching behind its rather impressive neck. The set up was exactly according to what Rebecca had told them to expect, candles and sigils and arrays in a dazzlingly complex riff on the dimensional theory circles she’d come across in her studies. It was beautiful. More importantly: it was powerful. Morgan scanned the rest of the room and settled on a shadowy shape slumped in a chair. “Is that, uh….is that him?” She asked, pointing.

Nell took a closer look at Erin, letting everything slow down for a moment to realize that...this probably wasn’t easy for the woman, especially after who knows how many of her light fixtures had just been shattered. “It’s gonna be good. We know what we’re doing,” she offered as a feeble attempt at assurance. “And um- I can...pay for the light fixtures.” That was technically their fault, wasn’t it? “But a good witch never tells her secrets about breaking in.” Nell bounced back with a tease. “Don’t worry about it, though- it’s nothing anyone without magic wouldn’t be able to do.” Then she was joining Morgan near the moose, reaching into her pocket and procuring a strawberry to offer up to the big guy with a fond smile. “Morgan’s a smartie pants, and I’ve used a moose or two before so it’ll be great.” Then she was taking in the set-up Rebecca had made with a practiced eye, not surprised to find that everything looked as beautiful and in order as it could be. “Truly a work of art, Rebecca. What’s he restrained with, now? If we have to, we could just use a bit of magic for that as well.”

Erin truly thought she was past the whole ‘this is fucking bizarre’ phase of this whole endeavor, but seeing the moose and the elaborate set up with the circle with the markings, surrounded in candles made her realize how entirely untrue that was. Noticed Rebecca’s hiccup in word choice but at this point? “Don’t worry about the lights,” she mumbled towards Nell, before a long, steadying sigh slipped through her lips. This was fine. Everything was fine. They were talking about the moose but it wasn’t clicking until a few seconds after that--”Wait, you’re going to… you know.” She gestured to her neck, dragging her index finger across it. “To the moose?” Jesus this was derailing further and further every second this dragged on. She ran her hands over her face again, her anxiety levels spiking. Just do what the kind witches say and this’ll be over soon. “I got him,” she nodded. Moved across the room to the chair her father was tied up in dragging him out into the light and to the circle. Wasn’t sure if that was right, but she’d seen enough horror movies to have an idea of how she assumed occult-y stuff worked. Doubled back for the kitchen pot, opting to hold that one in her arms for now. “What next?” She asked with more gusto. “I’d really just--love to get this over with, if that’s alright.”

“No need to hush the words,” Rebecca said to Erin, “he can’t understand English.” She turned to look at Nell, giving a nod. “Thank you, Nell.” She watched Erin drag her father out, from wherever she’d had him stashed. His head was missing, and he was tied to a chair. When Erin dragged him to the circle, Rebecca came up beside her and corrected his positioning, putting him at the top of the circle. “Center of the circle is for sacrifices. Top of the circle is the energy point,” was all she said before heading back to the other two. “Morgan, are you doing the sacrifice or is Nell? I have the dagger prepped already, so whoever is doing it, use that,” she instructed, pointing them to where to stand as well. Turned back to Erin. “I’ll need you to stand opposite your father, here,” she said, ushering Erin to her. “You’ll need to hold something of his as well. Something that has value to you.”

“We’re doing it together,” Morgan said readily. She had never killed anything as large as a moose before, and somehow that made it all the more important. She took the dagger from Rebecca and held herself in position, waiting for Nell to do the same. They had gone over this together, where to strike without wasting the blood they needed, and how quickly to slit the throat. Morgan had even practiced her techniques on the fresh produce she brought home. It wasn’t perfect or even close to the feel of the hairy, breathing creature beneath her, but as Morgan drove the knife into Moosey’s heart, she was glad she had something outside of herself to focus on.

Moosey’s legs buckled under him.

Morgan draped an arm around his wide neck and dug her weight into the floor to slow his fall. “Sshh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good, “she whispered. Stroking his pelt, she angled his head just so and peered down at Nell through his antlers one more time for the okay before speaking the blessing of sacrifice Rebecca had given her to memorize and making the second cut.

Dark blood sprayed up Morgan’s hands and rivered down, snaking past Moosey’s matted fur and trailing down, thicker and heavier, into the circle.

Nell waited for Morgan to get into position, stepping into her own with a matching knife in hand as she locked eyes with the other witch, a steady hand still petting the moose. She was only ever briefly sad about her sacrifices, knowing that they were serving a greater purpose. And did their life truly end if it was living on in something else? It was simply the ebb and flow of the universe, an exchange of energies that some might even say was beautiful. The manipulation of blood, and the life held within it should be revered in her mind, not met with disgust. In tandem, she sunk her own knife into the big moose, whispering her own words of comfort and encouragement to him as she did her best to help lower him. “Good boy, that’s it. Just a little sleep. Thank you, Moosey. I’ll remember you.” The blood was flowing quickly now as she felt her magic beginning to spring to life. She took a bit of it for herself, spreading just enough up her arms to leave long, red streaks there. Nell couldn’t really explain it, but she generally chalked the rush of power she got from this act to her affinity for blood magic. Finally, she rose from her place on the floor beginning the next part of the ritual as she spoke the words aloud, confidence in her movements as she reached out to link hands with Morgan and Rebecca.

Erin set the potted head in place beside where Rebecca had nudged the rest of her father’s remains in the circle. She’d thrown a joke in there--or maybe a genuine, playful jab--but it hardly sunk in. This felt like an out of body experience and she could only nod and move at the other women’s directions. Something of his. Right. She had prepared for that much. They weren’t an overly sentimental family, making finding something appropriate harder than she thought it would be. She procured an old, well-worn mug--one that had seen years of use from the stains lining the inside with ‘Embalming Fluid’ written on outside. It was dumb, she knew that. But she’d given it to him the day she told him she wanted to be a mortician. That day he’d laughed harder and smiled brighter, prouder, than any other she could truly remember. For almost a decade, this was the only mug he would drink out of too. “Got it,” Erin held it up shyly as she moved to where Rebecca wanted her, just in time for the knives to sink into the heart of the moose. With amazing care and grace, she noted, but the sight of a wild animal bleeding out onto her floor, with Nell rubbing the blood into her skin, stunned her into pure silence again. Oh god, what was she doing? What had she invited into her home? Maybe she should’ve just Nic blow the goddamn corpse up. “Jesus,” she mumbled. Wild, panicked eyes followed the trail of blood that moved into the circle before jumping between the three women as if waiting for an explanation or further direction.

An old mug was a good choice. Rebecca looked between the three of them as Morgan and Nell prepared the sacrifice, turning her eyes away as they slit its throat and let it bleed. She wasn’t much for all this magic ritual and sacrificing, but she knew this was a part of it. A part of life. And this animal’s soul would be returned to the ether while its blood and body would be used to help, here on Earth. She gave it a silent prayer, waiting for its labored breathing to stop before opening her eyes. Nell had already prepared the blood on her arms and Rebecca watched the liquid pool around the circle she’d made, filling in every crevasse. When it was full, she grasped their hands. “We’re going to channel our power through you, Erin, and your mug. I want you to think about your father-- think everything. Think about the good moments and the bad. The joy, the pain, the sorrow he brought you. I want you to think about what closure you need from him. And when you’re ready, speak it aloud.” She nodded to where Erin needed to stand, in the middle of the circle, facing her father. “Don’t be afraid, you can’t be hurt inside of there, I made sure.” She glanced at Nell and Morgan, then, before nodding, signaling them to begin chanting with her. She hoped the Hebrew wasn’t too difficult to memorize, but considering she was the link of the circle, she needed it to be in her power language.

Morgan marked the back of her hands with Moosey’s blood as it poured from his neck. She held onto him with all her might to control his collapse to the floor. She bent over his lifeless body and scooped the dark, stringy flesh from his neck and marked herself with two sigils, one connecting her with the others, and one protecting her from the pull of what they were about to do. She opened herself up and filled herself with the words Rebecca had given them to memorize. Her voice was strong and her mind was clear. There was no curse, no worry, only the balance and the bargain, power flowing in and out of her. And suddenly, in the space they had made together, a bright hole cut its way into the world.

A small, peaceful smile began to form on Nell’s lips as she felt their power mount, the three woman’s magic weaving together as if it had been yearning all this time to be joined as one. She had never minded working alone, but spellcasting with two others like this- it almost had a sense of nostalgia for her, having grown up with two sisters who’s magic she shared as they’d practiced all together in their younger years. The words fell from her mouth in tandem with Morgan and Rebecca, and she didn’t pause as the hole opened from one world into the next, though curiosity made her stare. It wasn’t like the glimpses of the demon realm she’d had before, though it certainly wasn’t anything similar to their world either. As she looked into it- she could feel the pull of the new world working against their magic, trying to lure her into its depths with something of a siren call, as if all their wishes would come true if she only stepped forward. But the temptation wasn’t a match for their joined power, and instead she simply gazed onwards into the world, trying to glean whatever she could from the swirling images she saw within. Nothing stayed concrete for more than the blink of an eye, shifting at a moment’s notice as wishes so often did, taking forms you wouldn’t expect, it being impossible to predict what might come next. But there were more important things to do here. “Bring it home, Erin. Let yourself have it.”

Speak it outloud? Fuckity-fuck-fuck. Erin faltered at that more than she had when Morgan stabbed a goddamn moose in her basement. Shaky hands struggled to keep the mug in her grip while the women circled her and chanted, the bright light that suddenly ripped into the dark room. So close she could swear she felt some sort of electrical pull, like a crackle, that followed the gusts of wind blowing her hair back. What sort of magic fuckery had she gotten herself into? For a long moment she only stared into the hole, lost in the slideshow of colors and images that were gone as quick as they came. Nell’s voice brought her back with a jarring halt. Right. Her father. Feelings. She’d done her homework, had a lengthy talk with herself about it, but she was having trouble remembering anything at the moment.

Squeezing the mug, she closed her eyes and focused. Flashes of memories jumping around in her own mind. The bad--the day she left over a year ago after she’d realized he’d had something to do with his mother’s death. The day she got the call about his death. The lackluster note that explained what she now had inherited. Her jaw clenched tightly. There was good there too, she had to remember that. Like the memory that came with this stupid mug. All of the warm comforts of home and family meals. Crying in his arms when the kids at school would tease her for being weird. He had been who had taught her the best way to handle it was to embrace it, after all. But for every good memory, the bad trickled in over top of it, reminding her how they got here in the first place. Fuck, she should say something.

She opened her eyes to the stark contrast of decaying flesh against the brightness behind him. Fear crawled along her nerve endings like a thousand little spiders and her heart pounded loud in her ears above their voices. “I don’t hate you,” she started, her voice already wavering as she tried to find the words. “I should, and I have every reason to, but I don’t. But I have what you’ve done and--I hate how you left things. But I’m going to fix it. And I’m going to be just fine without you,” she nodded, straightening herself.

There. She’d done it. But why wasn’t anything happening?

The looks the witches gave her didn’t seem all too impressed or convinced. She held her hands up. “Okay, okay!” She got the hint. Took another deep breath, running a hand over her eyes in frustration. Dig deeper? Is that what they wanted? “Alright--fine!” She rolled her shoulders, shaking her head, giving in completely now. “I do fucking hate you sometimes. I hate that you destroyed our family. That you bowed out without saying goodbye. That you left me this--fucking shit show to deal with and that because of you, I have no chance of having a normal goddamn life. And you can be damn sure I won’t forgive you for getting her killed.” Her eyes burned and her cheeks felt wet, suddenly aware that was the first time she’d said that thought out loud. “But I’ll fix this because you couldn’t. And if I can’t fix it, you can be damn sure I’ll be better at it than you. I don’t need you and I need to move on if I ever have a chance at that.” Erin paused, clearing her throat, nodding at the headless corpse wriggling in the chair before her. She wasn’t afraid of it anymore. “So you need to go,” she said with certainty, wiping at the tears under her eyes. “Now.”

That electricity from the hole heightened suddenly with a blazing swirl, suddenly tangible and powerful. Enveloping her father, chair, pot and all with a force that sent him flying backwards. And in a flash, he was gone. Finally, forever, gone.

Magic wasn’t Rebecca’s forte by any means, but there was a certain je ne sais quoi to it that always pulled her back. It was a higher connection to the world and the universe at large. It was a feeling she always got during exorcisms, and it was a feeling she’d been chasing her entire life. A sort of calm always washed over her when it happened, and she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing, watching Erin, watching the others, watching the portal, opening and closing, visions of another world, a hole in the universe, peering back at them. Erin’s words held power, Rebecca could feel them. Her emotions writhed around through the magic, absorbing the blood they had spilled, and centering on the undead body tied to the chair. It was almost a tragedy.

It all happened so quickly. In a flash, the body was gone. The portal sucked into itself, and closed. The effects were immediately, and Rebecca felt the weariness creeping in, faltering only slightly in her step as she let go of the other two’s hands. “It’s done,” she said quietly, rubbing her head, “you’re free.”

Free. Erin heard the word, saw the empty space where her father had just sat. Felt the exhaustion set in, felt bare and ripped wide open, but free hadn’t washed over her just yet. Her eyes remained on the space where the light had been for more than a few moments, her fingers anxiously digging into her palms. As if at any moment it’d reappear and shoot him right back out. That’d be her luck, wouldn’t it? But that moment never came and she was eager to get away from the three sets of eyes around her. “Thank you,” she finally mustered, clearing her throat and wiping her eyes before she turned to face them again. She owed them more than she could properly communicate right now, hoping the sincerity in her voice would speak for her. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s a start, anyway,” she mustered a half smile. Let a long breath go as her mind only just began to wrap around what had just happened. Then she stopped, her entire body sagging as her eyes fell to the blood streaming along the floor, leading to the small deceased moose still very much dead in the middle of the room. “...You guys are gonna take him with you, right?”

#wickedswriting #chatzy #chatzy: morgan #chatzy: becca #chatzy: nell #once more with feeling #aka the yeeting of the living dad

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woodlandelk · 7 years

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The Godling 3

Please read Drakenborg 1 -4 and Godling 1 first: https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/163948584770/drakenborg https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/164331108325/drakenborg-2 https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/164439254210/drakenborg-3 https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/165255024955/drakenborg-4 https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/165300347330/the-godling https://woodlandelk.tumblr.com/post/165439945005/the-godling-2

“Yeah, he has some crows. Really helpful fellows! One of them took care of your eye. We needed to remove it because of all the pus – Oh don´t look so shocked! It was frazzled anyway! And believe me, it was a pretty disgusting job!” appalled, the godling crossed his skinny arms in front of his chest when Iorveth stared at him horror-stricken. A crow had removed his eyeball?! He must be dreaming… Fluttering wings in the tree above his head seemed to back the godling. When Iorveth raised his head, he spotted five crows on a branch. Curiously, the birds stared down at him, croaking.

“Oh, seems like Berthold is back! He was so disappointed you always were asleep when he came to see you!” excitedly, Eugene jumped up and turned his head.

Iorveth followed his gaze, and when he saw what was approaching, his hand groped around to find something that could serve him as a weapon. Where the hell was his spear head?

Berthold was an about three metres tall woodland spirit, or leshen, as the humans called them. The tree like creature had bark instead of skin, limbs like branches and his head was a moose-skull with glowing eyes and incredibly huge antlers. Around his hips he wore an archaic looking deerskin, but Iorveth spotted a coloured knitted scarf wrapped around the leshen´s neck, like the one Eugene wore. He stood a stone throw away between some trees and watched them.

“No need to be scared, elf” Iorveth heard a calm and deep voice inside his head, “This is my forest, and no one will do you harm. If I wanted to see you dead, be sure you would not be alive anymore.”

To Iorveth this seemed reasonable, still the leshen was daunting. Now, many of the things Eugene had told him actually made sense. The godling stepped aside to make room for his friend. Carefully, the giant spirit walked to Iorveths pallet with steady and large steps, bending little trees to make way, so he would not damage the plants.

With a creak Berthold kneed down next to the awestruck elf. The spirit grabbed the blanket – it turned out that it was really some sort of moss – and exposed Iorveths body down to his hips. Iorveth shivered when the fresh forest wind stroke his naked skin. Slowly, Berthold laid his hand on Iorveths chest, and the elf felt a warm tingle spreading through his body. The woodland spirits touch dispelled the pain and the cold. Iorveth also started to feel stronger, and more awake. He realized that without Berthold’s help he probably would have died.

“Maybe you would have died, maybe not. I can make things grow, it was a breeze to heal your ribcage” Berthold raised his hand and eyed the leaves and buds that grew on his long fingers, “But unfortunately we could not do much for your face. Such a severe injury caused by violence, hatred and malediction is far beyond my capability.”

Well, sparrows picking the thorns out of his skin, crows removing his infected and inflamed eyeball and healing charms by a woodland spirit, all that was far more Iorveth could have asked for. And in this moment, far more than his brain could handle… How could he ever make amends for this?

“As soon as you are able to walk on your own, you will leave this forest, and you will never return. We bestowed you with this grace, because Eugene believes in your good heart. I don´t, since I found only grief and hatred and the desire for revenge in your thoughts. We don´t need that here.” Berthold reached for Iorveth´s face, and as soon as his fingertips touched the elf´s forehead, he felt how darkness oozed into his brain, his thoughts became foggy and before he understood what happened, Iorveth fell asleep. He would never see Berthold again.

The following days Eugene helped Iorveth to get back on his feet. They practiced talking and walking, and the godling taught him how to find edible fruits and roots, and how to get out of the wood.

One day, when Iorveth woke up, he was alone. Next to his bed lay a pair of trousers and a woollen tunic, obviously second-hand, but at least clean, his spearhead and a wooden cloak fibula, so he could wear his blanket as a cloak. Next to it Iorveth found a staff he could use as a cane, a gourd with water and a small bag, filled with some of Eugene’s roots.

Iorveth felt lugubrious, but got dressed and did not hesitate to leave the little camp behind. He knew he was not welcome here anymore. When he made it to the edge of the forest and saw the Drakenborg raising in the distance, reality hit him like a punch in the face. The grief, the wrath and the pain, it all was back. With a clenched heart Iorveth left the forest behind to get as far away as possible.

The End :)

(Well, technically not the end, because there is much more... Depends on how many would want to read it. Or you just go there: https://yrdenne.deviantart.com/gallery/62288885/Defeating-the-Fire-Book-1 and read the whole fcking fic XD)

#drakenborg #the godling #berthold #berthold is bae #iorveth #team iorveth #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #my writing #fanfiction #writing on tumblr #elves #scoia'tael #scoia´tael headcanon #the witcher 2 #andrzej sapkowski #iorweth

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